Mount Watson and the Grand Plateau Glacier

Walter Gove and Donald J. Liska

ON June 5 our party of Mike Allen,

Cindy Anderson, Larry Dauelsberg, Walt Gove, Don and Alice Liska and John Neal gathered at Channel Flying in Juneau to be flown by pilot Ken Loken into the wild and unexplored country just north of Glacier Bay National Monument. The weather in Juneau was bleak and rainy. A little over an hour later we landed in an ice-filled lake at the foot of the Grand Plateau Glacier, which drains the north face of Mount Fair weather as well as several other beautiful peaks. Ken deposited us at the northeast corner of the lake at 85 feet above sea level about three miles from the ocean.

Our party had been organized by Walt and was specifically designed to meet the requirements of a cautious climber with a bad back; namely the trip was to be safe and easy. As any experienced climber knows, any trip designed by these criteria is bound to become heavy-duty. Anyhow, our intent was to spend an easy three days walking 21 miles up the wide—and untraveled—Grand Plateau Glacier to the foot of the west ridge of Mount Root on the British Columbia-Alaskan border. We could then have an airdrop at 9000 feet (naturally just after we arrived). Our primary goal was Mount Watson, an unclimbed peak of 12,500+ feet, which we planned to do via the east ridge. However, we were not oblivious to the charms of the other two unclimbed 12,000- footers in the area of Mount Root and an unclimbed, unnamed peak between Watson and Root. Also, in the back of our minds was the possibility of putting up a route on the unclimbed north side of Mount Fairweather.

Naturally, our trip up the glacier did not go as planned. As it was mid-afternoon when we landed at the lake, we made only a few miles the first day. We camped far out on the broad expanse of glacier in heavy fog, amused to see seagulls feeding, of all things, on glacier worms. Much of the second day was spent circling north to bypass an icefall at 2000 feet, although we did eventually make it to within three miles of the colossal 4000-foot icefall about two-thirds of the way up the glacier. At this point, the “easy” criteria irrevocably failed. We planned to go up the obvious ridge in the right center of the icefall, but spent the entire third and rainy day discovering we could not reach the foot of the ridge because of crevasses. On the fourth day we attempted to bypass the icefall by going back down the glacier a mile and climbing a chute due south just right of a prominent rock cleaver that went a third of the way up the slope. From the top of the cleaver we could traverse two miles across the slopes partly up the icefall to still another chute, this one heading east and the only apparent way through the upper icefall, which led to the relatively flat upper glacier. We were getting an excellent taste of the approach difficulties of an exploratory expedition in southeastern Alaska. This was our fourth day out and the first one we had told Loken to attempt his airdrop. Though it looked like an easy trudge to Base Camp, in the event he did not come we cut down to quarter rations to stretch our five-day food supply to twelve in an emergency. Despite clear weather at 7000 feet, Loken did not come. The next morning we dashed off early to get as high as possible to flag him down but were blocked by crevasses at 8000 feet. The icefall was impenetrable and when the weather turned bad, we gave up trying to find a route and set up camp. That afternoon Loken attempted to make the airdrop in dangerously bad weather but could not make contact.

That evening the storm set in in earnest and continued for two days. We were forced into an uncomfortable decision: to head down with our remaining food or to go on deeper into this wild terrain until we ran out of food and had to retreat in a weakened condition. John Neal remembered an aerial photo showing a relatively clear passage to the Watson-Root cirque that passed behind a small nunatak just north of us. We finally set off in a whiteout and headed northeast around the nunatak, where we managed to find the key passage. By late afternoon we passed all difficulties and camped near the mouth of the cirque. The next two days were excellent weather up high and we even did some reconnaissance, but it was socked in below.

Finally on June 16, our tenth day out, a day of exceptionally good weather, we had virtually given up on the airdrop and had actually started down, when Loken suddenly appeared and made the drop. That afternoon we camped under the east ridge of Watson. Here in the cirque, the three peaks looked very impressive, particularly the northwest face of Root; it appeared that we had had the sense to pick the easiest climb. As the east ridge of Watson is joined to the unnamed peak and forms part of the wall of the cirque, the immediate problem was getting onto its crest. We had anticipated that this would be easy, for according to the map, the lower part of the ridge was marked by a mile-long snow saddle. However in actuality the saddle is only a quarter- mile-long and the slope up to it is of very steep ice. We decided to attempt the first couloir north of the saddle.

On the next day Don Liska and Larry Dauelsberg put a route up the couloir, 45° and 1000 feet high. The upper couloir was crested with rock spurs and cliffs which presented rockfall hazards and the entire couloir was an avalanche gully. However, the morning was cold and the pair used an assortment of rock pitons and flukes to fix 800 feet of handline up only moderately difficult slopes. They found a passage through the cliffs and reached the ridge crest. Though tempted to continue toward the summit, they rappelled down the upper part of the couloir, a wise decision, as the next day’s climb was long and risky.

On June 18 we got a fairly early start. Don and Larry got off first to shift one of the handlines higher for protection through the cliff section. The fixed ropes speeded the climb up the couloir despite a dusting of fresh snow and a bitter wind. In working the ropes, Don )got a couple of fingers frostbitten and there was some rockfall. The first third of the ridge was an easy walk, up to the first rock step, where John Neal and Cindy Anderson turned back. After the step we traversed steep down-sloping ledges and then led up snow-covered ice. Above, the climbing was on relatively soft snow with ice underneath, exposed and in places knife-edged. We could kick good steps but had little protection from ice-axe belays because of the ice beneath.

Glimpses of the fog-shrouded summit drove us on. We were surprised to find the steepness and exposure greater than we had believed from the saddle. Gendarmes, corniced crests and a stretch of 70° snow- covered slabby rock were obstacles we placed beneath us before we reached the top. We had only a brief, cold stay on the summit. The descent went smoothly except for the last ice pitch above the saddle, where we almost had a rappelling mishap.

After a late sleep, we set off in a whiteout for the base of Fair- weather, five miles to the south, but got lost and set up camp a couple of miles short of the climb. An ice cliff running across the whole north side dampened hopes of climbing the north buttress of Fairweather. Instead we hoped to ascend the valley between the main peak and the much lower west peak to a saddle between the two and to follow the upper west ridge to the summit.

The next day was clear. We set off for the saddle, keeping well away from the ice cliff until, near the saddle, crevasses forced the route under it. The cliff had been quite active and above us a small avalanche had just swept across our proposed route. As we debated the advisability of proceeding, a large chunk of the ice cliff broke off, sending what we figured to be six million cubic feet of ice across what we had just climbed. We abandoned the climb.

On June 21 we packed down to the airdrop site. On the way down Don and Alice Liska climbed the beautiful unnamed 11,100-foot peak, due south of our cirque which forms the northeast headwall of the Sea Otter Glacier, an ice horn that rises 2400 feet above our airdrop site. The climb started with an exhilarating and easy snowshoe hike around a big cirque below its southeast ridge to an altitude about 600 feet below the summit. From there we could see the entire eight-mile length of the west ridge of Fair weather from its base, as well as Watson and Root in clear profile to the north. It took courage to tackle alone the final knife edge which rose abruptly above a deep saddle in a series of steep shoulders and corniced crests, extremely exposed on either side. Mackerel clouds spotted the eastern sky as a big storm moved closer and gave a “last chance” feeling to the endeavor. It was a dizzying perch with Watson and Root to the north, Fair weather to the south and the total chaos of the Grand Plateau icefalls beneath. The descent was uneventful, although both complained of some loss of tolerance to exposure before regaining the saddle.

Sastrugi was forming on the glacier as we raced for camp ahead of the storm. We built block walls around the tents and settled down to a stormy night of frolic and shivering. The next three days were spent descending to the lake at the foot of the Grand Plateau Glacier, from which Ken Loken flew us out on June 25.

Summary of Statistics:

Area: Northern Fairweather Range, Southeastern Alaska.

First Ascents: Mount Watson, 12,500+ feet, via East Ridge, June 18, 1974 (Allen, Dauelsberg, Gove, D. and A. Liska).

P 11,100, via Southeast Ridge, June 21, 1974 (D. and A. Liska).

Personnel: Michael Allen, Cindy Anderson, Lawrence Dauelsberg, Walter Gove, Donald and Alice Liska, John Neal.