Mount McKinley’s Pioneer Ridge

Sev Heiberg, Alpine Club of Canada

One of the few easily accessible routes on Mount McKinley that remained unclimbed, Pioneer Ridge, leads up to the north peak from the northeast and separates the Muldrow Glacier from the Wickersham Wall. Being unfamiliar with the "pleasures” of walking through tundra and sceptical of reports about the unsettled nature of the Muldrow Glacier, we were attracted by a new route in preference to the well known West Buttress. Adolf Baur of Ottawa carried out the organizational duties. Don Lyon, Larry Fowler, Dietrich Haumann and I made up the rest of the party.

Two Volkswagens full of climbers and gear left Calgary on June 28 for the long trip up the Alaska Highway. Don could not get away from his school-teaching job in Golden, so he and I left on June 30 and did our best to catch up. When we reached McKinley Park the others had already left, aiming to be above the lower icefall of the Muldrow Glacier in four days in time to meet the airdrop of supplies. They had left for us a day’s work of packing food for the airdrop. On July 4 we finally set off across the tundra from Wonder Lake with our 95-lb. packs. Having been warned to cross the McKinley River early in the morning, we approached it with trepidation at three in the afternoon. After wandering up and down the stream to look for shallow places, we were very pleased eventually to get across, but light rain and heavy muskeg soon dampened our spirits. Since our legs were not in condition for this, we made slow progress over the tundra, across the Clearwater River and up Cache Creek. In the early afternoon of July 6 we reached McGonagall Pass. Before us we could see the remainder of our route: along the Muldrow Glacier to the Flatiron Spur, then up onto Pioneer Ridge and along it to the north summit at 19,470 feet. We were not going to try to follow the ridge all the way from Gunsight Pass. We had a limited amount of time and felt that the approach by the Flatiron was a big enough handful for us. The cloudless sky gave promise of frost during the night and we planned to rise at midnight to take advantage of the crust on the glacier.

The next afternoon we camped on top of a sérac in the lower icefall, trying to ignore the continual clatter of rocks rolling down from the cliff on either side. We were now only a few hundred yards behind the advance party who had had difficulty in finding a way through the icefall. After having made their way through the centre almost to the top they had been turned back by a huge crevasse that appeared to run all the way across the glacier. A second try on a route alternating between the rock wall and the ice proved more successful.

We woke to the sound of a light plane and scrambled out in time to see Don Sheldon of Talkeetna dropping our gear from a few feet above the ice. He yelled at us, "Have fun!" and left us to it. After several days of moving supplies up the mountain, by July 13 everything was stored at 12,500 feet on Pioneer Ridge just above the Flatiron. We dug a snow cave here to act as an emergency shelter because we should not be leaving any tents at intermediate camps. To the top of the Taylor Spur (15,070 feet) we followed the west face of the ridge just below the crest, through deep snow with a wind crust that was almost strong enough to hold us. We were a bit uneasy about these long, steep snow fields as two days earlier we had watched a huge avalanche clean off the whole rather gentle north face of the Flatiron. At the top of Taylor Spur, Adolf and I set up camp while the others went back down to the Flatiron to spend the night.

From here a knife-edged ridge led up and down for half a mile without gaining any altitude. Beyond a little col it rose steeply with a thin layer of snow overlying loose, glazed rocks which we tried to avoid by staying to the right on the snow as we had done before. Half an hour of breaking thigh-deep through a heavy wind-crust into the loose snow underneath gained us only about 50 feet; but the rocks looked nice and solid. We worked back and eventually got up to a small bowl at 16,000 feet, where we cached the food and gear. We had hoped to establish a route much farther up the rock that day but were too tired to continue. When we returned to the camp, Dietrich was setting up the other tent. Don and Larry had gone down to pick up a cache at 14,000 feet and were soon back.

The following day Larry and Adolf went ahead with light loads to try to set a route through to 17,000 feet above the rock pitch but the weather drove them back from 16,000 feet. All next day it snowed but the day after was fine. In the fresh snow which called for great caution, the camp was moved up to 16,000 feet. We were set for a try at the rock work in the morning.

Adolf and I started early with loads of food and fuel for the final camp which was planned for 17,000 feet where a lateral spur joins Pioneer Ridge from the northwest. For 500 feet we stuck to the crest of the ridge on icy rock that was just steep enough to be tricky in crampons. In biting wind and the zero temperature, it was difficult to keep warm while belaying and Adolf was concerned about his feet. Hoping to make better time, we veered right onto the face toward a very steep snow gully that appeared to lead to the top. With bare, blue ice below and higher up, loose snow to our waists, we feared an avalanche but our goal was less than 200 feet ahead. Adolf braced himself above a rock and I ploughed a trough through the snow. By this time the others had caught up to us. Larry and Don with their personal gear and Dietrich with a tent. A howling wind met us on the crest of the lateral spur. Quickly we dumped our loads, leaving Larry and Don to set up housekeeping, and hurried back to the old camp.

Next day everything was brought up to the miserable summit camp. High wind during the night had piled snow on top of the Fürst tent until one of the posts and the ridge-pole had broken. Don and Larry had spent the night using the inner tent as a bivouac sack. During the day they had dug a small snow cave and when we arrived, Larry was sitting in it trying to thaw out his frozen finger tips. We managed to pitch the tents but by the time supper was over the Jamet tent was almost buried and we feared for the fabric. When Dietrich and I decided to move over into the Fürst, we had a hard time getting out of the Jamet against the pressure of the snow. All five of us in one tent supported the walls with our backs, taking turns shoveling snow off the roof. Each time someone entered more snow was dragged into the tent until everything was wet and soggy. In the morning the wind eased, but the job of enlarging the snow cave was only half finished when the storm revived and the Fürst tent and contents were hastily transferred to the cave; the Jamet was left to be buried. In the cramped quarters it was difficult to keep snow out of our clothes but at least we could not hear the wind and were able to spend a peaceful night.

In the morning we had to dig a 4-foot tunnel to get out. The drifting snow filled up our goggles and blinded us as soon as we stuck our heads out. Though we were unable to locate the cache of food and gas a few feet from the entrance, we did retrieve the Jamet tent which contained a day’s supply. This was done at the cost of slight frostbite on several toes and fingers. Another night in the cave brought a day of relative calm. The loose snow seemed to have all blown away and with good visibility we were able to find the food cache. Not until past noon was the camp in good enough shape for us to leave for the summit.

Since the wind-crust held us only intermittently, we took to the rocks again and followed the ridge to the small col at 18,000 feet. Here we stopped for lunch but soon moved on as there was a high wind and the temperature was near -20°F. From this point on, the snow was packed hard and the powerful headwind provided most of the resistance. In less than four hours after leaving camp, we were at the top. The visibility was perfect but the bitterly cold wind did not tempt us to stay long.

After a third night in the cave and the better part of a day spent drying clothes in the sun, we began the descent. At each old campsite abandoned articles were retrieved and our packs became steadily heavier. By one A.M. we had reached the camp above the Flatiron where we opened up the snow cave and cooked a meal. Treating ourselves to an after-dinner nap we dozed till three and then continued. It was wet and slushy before we were back at the airdrop site at 7500 feet. The Muldrow had been active during our short absence and in places the route was hardly recognizable.

All day we slept in the sun and at midnight began to look for a route out to the edge of the glacier. This took some hours and much later we were past the lower icefall with nothing but straightforward walking ahead of us. There were many rest stops before the McKinley River which was to provide a bit of excitement yet. We crossed in the middle of the afternoon with our customary good timing. This time the water was concentrated in the middle of the river bed where there had been only dry gravel three weeks earlier. As Dietrich was crossing the main channel, his feet were swept out from under him. The heavy packsack held him down and only with the help of Adolf and Larry could he get it off and come to the surface. Further down the stream, he and Adolf found a shallower ford and joined the rest of us. That evening, July 27, we were back at Wonder Lake just as the weather broke and the rain began to pour down.

Summary of Statistics

Area: Alaska Range, Alaska.

Ascent: North Peak of Mount McKinley, 19,470 feet, July 23, 1961— first ascent of Pioneer Ridge.

Personnel: Adolf Baur, Dietrich Haumann, Sev Heiberg, Lawrence Fowler, Donald Lyon.