SLEEP was fading away with the help of hot coffee, and once again I became aware of the glacier stretching away from my tent door. Somewhere down that glacier the drone of an airplane rose and fell, steadily coming closer. By the time I stumbled outside and had the radio switched on, the plane was starting a turn not far away. Pete Haggland with all but one bundle of our food and gear for a month jammed in behind and nearly on top of him was jockeying his Super Cub for a low-angle run over a nearby marker in soft snow. During the next hour, after numerous passes and a return trip, everything was dumped with only minor rips and ruptures. Pete heartily wished us luck and flew off towards Fairbanks. The four of us on the glacier glanced at each other, surveyed the pile of goods, and then cautiously looked at the top of Mount Deborah a mile-and-a-half away and 7000 feet above.

The day was July 11 and John Cady, Barry Nash, Ray Watts and I were camped at 5000 feet on the Gillam Glacier near the base of Mount Deborah’s north side. Several days before in rain and wind Pete had shuttled us nearly to the terminus of the Gillam after a landing at Portage Creek. The rain had quit on the hike up the glacier but the next wave of disagreeable weather probably wasn’t far off. I had found this out in June of 1971 on a previous attempt at a north route and so hoped that our present larger food allowance and equipment would give us extra time.

We packed four 30-pound food boxes along with pickets and fixed rope and began threading our way through the northside icefall. The lower part had been explored the previous day by Ray and John and was not too bad, but the upper part had huge areas of collapsed ice, which forced us to detour close to the high rock wall on the left. We cached our loads at 7100 feet where the next day Barry and Ray set up Camp I after another carry from Base Camp. Continued warm weather of 45° F. turned the crevassed but relatively easy terrain above Camp I into knee-deep slush. The sun turned Barry and Ray beet-red as they pushed the route past a bergschrund and partly up the 45° side of the north spur. In the following few days we completed our move to Camp II on the spur and placed about 500 feet of fixed rope on the slope below the camp.

Camp II was in a snug pocket with ample room for two tents. In contrast, the ridge beyond was a knife-edge of fractured rock and corniced snow which never failed to avalanche debris of some sort whenever we moved out on it. This narrow portion ran about 500 feet and was followed by a 100-foot 50° pitch of snow-covered ice above which steep rock ledges and snow continued to 10,300 feet. This part was the crux. At Camp II there was a reluctance to push higher, but when above this section, we had a definite urge to complete the climb so as not to make any extra trips across it.

John and Ray managed to reach the intersection of the north spur and the northwest ridge at 11,000 feet on a blustery July 20. They fixed more rope on the highest pitch, dug a two-man snow cave and returned. The following day Barry and I tottered up with 50-pound packs. Pitches which without packs had been relatively comfortable were now entirely different. The joy of climbing was just not there. Higher, above the rock, large snow cornices lined the north spur. A section of the ridge collapsed and dropped me backwards eight feet into a jumble of snow blocks. After patching my cramponed legs, we continued up to the corner which was to be Camp III. Our luck with the corniced ridges continued to be bad. The first snow cave collapsed when a large cornice broke off. Its debris nearly reached Camp I.

We sat out a day of alternating blowing mist and sun and even had lightning flashes. The evening was serene by contrast, but an uneasy peace seemed to prevail. Ray and John’s appearance the next day with loads from Camp II was a welcome relief. Travel above Camp III was deemed hazardous during the next several days of mist, snow and warmth. We had enough food there for perhaps four days more.

The sky cleared on the evening of July 25; with fingers crossed we left camp around 10:30. There were high, thin clouds, but most of the clouds filled the valleys below us. A short way above camp the ridge narrowed and curled-under cornices appeared like frozen waves. The work began. We kicked steps, edged around crazy towers of snow and glanced uneasily at the rocky gullies plunging off the south face of Deborah. Most of the time we could not see the steeper north face except where an occasional short catwalk brought us above the steep flutings. The light at midnight was dim and flat. The ridge steepened somewhat. We moved smoothly. We fixed rope only on a couple of stretches where vertical snow walls forced us onto narrow traverses on the shattered rock of the south face. Eventually the sky brightened and our feelings too, since we could finally see what we were doing. The last of the narrow cornices were passed and we climbed a moderately steep slope onto a sort of long glacial block which forms the summit ridge. After a half-hour of wallowing in deep snow we stood on the broad, roomy, but windy summit. Mount McKinley floated like a great doublehumped iceberg on the western sky. The weather was holding but we were never sure for how long. About 600 feet down the ridge from the top, I plunged through a snow bridge and fell 30 feet onto the soft bottom of a crevasse. Crevasses on summit ridges had not occurred to any of us.

On July 27 we climbed down to Camp II along the ridge, now even more treacherous due to softening snow. The wind picked up and for two days it rained, while slushy avalanches sounded nearby. Camp II was relatively cozy and food plentiful. When the weather cleared, we completed our climb down and hiked out to the airstrip where Pete Haggland picked us up on schedule on the morning of August 2. The two clearest days of the entire trip were the last two of the hike out, but two good days were too much. Before the plane had finished ferrying us away, it was raining hard.

Summary of Statistics:

Area: Hayes Group, Alaska Range.

New Route: Third ascent of Mount Deborah, 12,339 feet, via the north spur to the northwest ridge, July 26, 1976.

Technical Data: 2400 feet of fixed rope, 16 pickets, 15 ice screws, 2 snow flukes, 3 rock pitons.

Personnel: John Cady, Barry Nash, Rick Nolting, Ray Watts.