MOUNT SALISBURY had been on my mind almost daily for the past two years. It all started when Mike Heath, Bill Sumner, and Dusan Jagersky returned from Alaska’s Fair-weather Range after an attempt on Salisbury’s northwest face. (A.A.J., 1976, p. 439-430.) Mike’s slides were incredible, snow and ice everywhere.

Dave and Diana Daily and I immediately decided on the Fairweather Range for the summer of 1975. As we didn’t really feel up to Salisbury, Mike suggested Lituya Mountain via its classic north ridge. (A.A.J., 1976, p. 440.) For me it was a very satisfying trip, just the three of us, all on our first trip to Alaska. We left Seattle in early June almost total strangers and returned after six weeks of hardships, the best of friends.

It wasn’t until 1977 that I was able to put together another trip to the Fairweather Range. During this time the first ascent of Mount Salisbury had become an obsession with me. As I began to look for interested climbers, I was distressed to learn of other groups planning for the peak. One group never left Seattle and the other, organized by Dusan Jagersky, left Seattle two weeks before us. They would be on the other side of the mountain, attempting a difficult, new approach from Glacier Bay, via the Johns Hopkins Glacier. Very little was known about that side of the mountain, and while the chances for success were probably less, it sounded like a very exciting and adventuresome trip. In contrast, our route would be via the well-traveled Fairweather Glacier, and what we were quite sure was a feasible route up the mountain’s northwest face.

I felt that we had a strong group and looked forward to a good month of climbing as we departed Seattle the first week in June. We were Steve Swenson, Jerome Eberharter,* Todd Bibler, Greg Thompson, and I, all from the Seattle area.

The approach up the Fairweather Glacier begins at a small glacial lake, one mile from the Pacific Ocean. From the lake, the glacier heads due east into the heart of the Fairweather Range. Base Camp was located at the upper reaches of the glacier in the spectacular amphitheater formed by Mount Quincy Adams, P 12,606, and Salisbury’s northwest face.

This face rises a full 4500 feet from the glacier to the summit, at a consistent 50° to 55°. The right margin of the face is littered with huge ice cliffs, as is the entire summit area. Exposure to avalanche danger from these summit ice cliffs demanded a quick light-weight attack on Salisbury. So with the weather remaining good we set out on the evening of June 15 shortly after the sun was off the face. We had with us two or three days of food and fuel, a dozen or so ice screws, six snow flukes, a snow shovel, personal bivouac gear and Todd’s small bivouac tent.

Two hours of snowshoeing brought us directly under the steep face. From here foreshortening made the summit appear ridiculously close. In the dim light of the short Alaskan night the next few hours were spent tackling a weakness in the schrund. Jerome took the first pitch, 70° frozen-together ice chunks overhung by a huge ice cliff. The rest of us huddled close to the wall and dodged volleyball-sized ice chunks that Jerome dislodged. He finished the pitch by skirting the ice cliff to the left and belayed me up. This placed us on the 55° snow which continued for the next ten hours and 3500 feet. Fortunately snow conditions were excellent and the climbing straightforward. Jerome and I led off on one rope with Steve, Todd, and Greg on the other.

Jerome and I swung leads for the next 30 or 35 pitches, while the others followed and reused our belay platforms. On the other rope Steve would lead, belayed by Todd, as Greg followed with a Jümar for selfbelay. This system worked well, and the rope of three had little trouble keeping up with our rope of two.

About two-thirds of the way up the face the weather began to deteriorate and soon it was snowing. The exposure was terrific. The face dropped away smooth and unbroken to the glacier below. As Jerome and I were tiring, we let the other rope team lead. We thought there was a schrund about 1000 feet above and suggested bivouacking if it was usable. Steve did a great job and before long he had disappeared into a small hole in the face. It was just what we needed. Back inside was a cavern with a bivouac platform, completely protected from the weather and isolated from the oppressive exposure. After a hot meal Jerome and I crawled into the bivouac sack, while the others squeezed into Todd’s tiny tent.

We awoke six hours later with the weather unchanged. We weren’t too excited about our situation. The spindrift avalanches which were sweeping the face would only be larger lower down. Retreat didn’t seem wise, so after a quick discussion we decided to go for the summit. Jerome and I had already made one attempt on Salisbury a week before ahead of the arrival of the others, and didn’t like the idea of climbing the face again should the present attempt fail. Todd, who had been feeling ill, elected to wait in the schrund while Greg, Steve, Jerome, and I went for the top.

From the cave we traversed right to what appeared to be the weakest point in the first of the summit ice cliffs. I led this pitch and belayed a short distance above. As spindrift poured down the face, Jerome took the next pitch which was 165 feet of 60° water ice. This brought us to the summit ice cliffs that would be the crux of the climb and would place us on the summit ridge. It looked unclimbable without aid as the huge ice cliff overhung for 100 feet. I started off the next pitch by traversing left on very steep ice hoping to find a way around the overhangs. I finally managed to place a wart hog, which gave me much needed confidence as I dropped down into a steep narrow couloir which took me to the summit ridge. Below Steve led Greg up the three crux pitches, despite difficulties with the constant spindrift. The snow would fill the space between his eyes and glasses, blinding him; as soon as the snow was removed, his glasses would fog up.

Above on the summit ridge Jerome and I huddled together to keep warm and waited. It seemed to be forever before they joined us. Together we headed up the easy ridge, confident of the summit, even though we couldn’t see 20 yards ahead. After slogging for 45 minutes, the ridge dropped away sharply. We were on top. Huddled together on the windy summit, we wondered if we had beaten Dusan and his group to the top. It was not until we returned to Juneau that we uncomprehendingly heard the news of their tragedy.

After several rappels and some down-climbing, we rejoined Todd at the bivouac schrund, twelve hours after we had left him. He was feeling better and since we had little food left, we descended the face immediately. Snow conditions were excellent once again and we did no belaying for a long way to minimize time exposed to avalanches. Snow conditions worsened near the bottom of the face and we belayed about ten pitches.

As we began to traverse the face in order to skirt the lower schrunds, we had to cross several large avalanche troughs that were swept periodically by large wet snow slides. However the real danger was from rock-fall where the face curved under the rock band bordering the left side of the face. Here I was struck in the leg and knocked from my stance. The pain was real and I was scared as hell of more rockfall. Belays from Jerome enabled me to continue safely. We kept a close watch for more rocks, made a final rappel off another ice screw and were returned safely to the glacier.

Steve Swenson tells of P 12,606.

We arrived back at Base Camp on June 17, only four days after Todd, Greg, and I had left Juneau. Salisbury had been the primary objective of the expedition and I certainly hadn’t planned on being successful so soon. But now we had seven days of bad weather to choose another climb, everyone with his own idea. We finally decided to attempt a route on P 12,606 via its unclimbed south buttress. Todd, Jim, Jerome, and I left Base Camp on June 25.

To gain the ridge, we had to climb a small glacier on its east side. The weather, doubtful when we started, began to improve, and we were exhilarated by brief glimpses of Lituya and Salisbury across from us.

After gaining the ridge crest, we had some easy snow climbing before encountering the first in a seemingly endless series of granite steps and towers. These apparently difficult problems had easy solutions, and we were able to climb together, for the most part, without belays. It was great to be doing such a spectacular climb in a continuous manner. As the climbing was technically moderate, the act of placing hands and feet gave immediate pleasure.

The two rope teams swung leads when appropriate, and as we climbed we voiced our enthusiasm by shouting our favorite expedition sayings to no one in particular.

Our only real problem was the final rock thumb. As it couldn’t be bypassed, we had to climb it directly. Easy cracks led to a hand traverse that was awkward to climb with wool mitts, crampons, ice axes, and packs. The hand traverse led to a heavily corniced snow fin that intersected a broad snow face and that was the end of our difficulties.

We bivouacked in a crevasse higher up and were on the summit within an hour and a half the next morning. It was a perfect day. We could see all the way to Mount Saint Elias, and the view of our route on Mount Salisbury directly across from us was awesome.

Three hours later we descended the Heath-Jagersky-Sumner route back to the Fairweather Glacier.

After another week of bad weather, we walked out to meet our appointment with the pilot.

Summary of Statistics:

Area: Fairweather Range, Southeastern Alaska.

Ascents: First Ascent of Mount Salisbury, 12,170 feet, via Northwest Face, June 17, 1977 (Eberharter, Nelson, Swenson, Thompson).

P 12,606, New Route via South Ridge, June 26, 1977 (Bibler, Eberharter, Nelson, Swenson).

Personnel: Todd Bibler, Jerome Eberharter, James T. Nelson, Steven J. Swenson, Greg Thompson.

*Recipient of A.A.C. Boyd N. Everett, Jr. Climbing Fellowship.