MOST trips to the Fairweather Range have been to the southern part of the range. In fact, the only previous approach to the range from the north had been a trip I had organized in 1974 in which we had landed at a lake at 85 feet at the foot of the Grand Plateau Glacier and followed the northern branch of the glacier up to the plateau just north of Mount Fairweather. From the plateau a number of climbs are accessible. In 1974 we had made the first ascents of Mount Watson (12,516 feet), and P 11,105, both via their south ridges. We had also attempted Mount Fairweather via the valley and headwall between the main peak and the west peak, but had turned back after a tremendous ice avalanche had crossed our path.

It would be possible to land a plane on the plateau. As the route by foot is arduous, involves a circuitous bypass of a 4000-foot icefall and goes up slopes that under certain snow conditions will avalanche, some persons will be inclined to fly in. In 1974, although we had walked in, we had had an airdrop on the plateau at about 8500 feet. That experience emphasized a facet of climbing in southeast Alaska. Although bush pilots can almost routinely fly at sea level, it is very rare that they can fly into the high mountains. In fact, in 1974 we spent two days in perfect weather on the plateau without rations or climbing gear while it was socked in below and due to lack of supplies had actually started out by the time the airdrop came. In short, any expedition in southeast Alaska that is dependent on planes being able to fly at high elevations is at the mercy of very unpredictable and typically bad weather. Not only is the schedule one that is often seriously upset and the eventual success of such expeditions tied to weather and machines, but one loses the aesthetic quality of being an independent self-contained unit. We thus decided to limit our reliance on the airplane to the days we planned to fly in and fly out.

On the morning of June 3 Ken Loken crammed our party, composed of Loren Adkins, George Fisher, Tom Distler and me, into a Beaver and we left for the lake at the foot of the Grand Plateau Glacier. After we landed, Ken and I took off to make an airdrop. We had decided to try to drop at 5000 feet, probably the highest one can drop and avoid the possibility of losing one’s gear in the snow. And, at any rate, it was socked in above. We tried to drop on the slope part way up and to the right of the major icefall, but all the boxes from the first pass disappeared into the snow and mist. We thus descended to 3300 feet and made the main drop at the foot of the icefall.

By one P.M. we had our packs on and set out. The glacier was much thinner than three years earlier. Just above the lake we swung left onto the glacier in an effort to avoid a crevasse system, but soon were in a series of small ice cliffs and crevasses. After a number of hours we reached both flatter ground and snow and eventually at 9:30 P.M. set up camp opposite the lower nunatak. The next day was long, as we bypassed the lower icefall on the left; it was late evening before we reached the main airdrop. The next five days were spent getting to our first climbing camp at the entrance to the Root-Watson cirque. We had some apprehensive moments before we found the boxes from the first drop. The weather was typical for southeast Alaska, alternating hot and cold, sun, whiteout and snow. We climbed the potential avalanche slopes at night or in the early morning when they were frozen. Above the main icefall we hauled our 120-pound loads by sled, a system which worked quite well except on the steeper slopes in deep powder. All in all we pushed ourselves fairly hard.

On June 9, the morning after arriving at our first climbing camp, we got up at 2:30 A.M. and had a quick breakfast. We planned to climb the unnamed unclimbed 12,300+-foot peak between Root and Watson via its south ridge, which looked like a good warmup climb. The only trick seemed to be to get to the saddle between the unnamed peak and Root. We snowshoed up to the slope under the saddle, put on our crampons and climbed up over the old avalanche debris to the bergschrund. A screw placed in bad ice, and a stirrup got us over the schrund. Above, the steep slope was covered by very hard snow, where we protected with plates, pickets and ice axes. Six 150-foot leads brought us to the “saddle,” which turned out to be a sheer, heavily corniced, knife-edged ridge comprised of rotten ice and loose snow which went for a quarter of a mile before it reached our easy ridge. We had no choice but to back off. We down- climbed the slope, rappelled over the schrund, and twelve hours after we had started were back at our snowshoes. We had decided against attempting this rather unattractive peak from the north in 1974, and now it had turned us back from the south.

We needed an ego booster and picked P 11,105, the most beautiful mountain I have ever seen. In 1974 Don and Alice Liska had climbed the south ridge in a quick if exposed jaunt; we decided on the longer and even more exposed north ridge. As we got to bed late, we did not get off until ten A.M. We snowshoed across the glacier and up to the low saddle in the north ridge, where we put on our crampons to climb up the ridge crest. By four P.M. we were at the base of the steep knife-edged ridge which led directly to the summit. The climbing was exacting, in part because of the snow conditions. The hard snow on the left side of the knife-edge required step-cutting while on the right side one wallowed in an unstable miniature cornice. As with the day before, we protected with plates, pickets, ice axes, and an occasional ice screw. At the sixth pitch it eased off a bit, but the seventh and last pitch was a bear, as it was steeper and led out onto the east face. George and I deferred to Loren, who chopped his way up like the tiger he is. We arrived on top at 10:30 P.M. to an extraordinary sunset. We started down-climbing immediately; we were at the base of the knife-edge five hours later and back at camp by seven A.M. A great 21 hours.

Our main goal was 12,860-foot Mount Root, which we thought was probably the highest unclimbed mountain in North America, a hunch subsequently confirmed by Brad Washburn. We hoped to climb the south face, which leads in one grand sweep to the summit. We anticipated that the face, most of which averaged between 45° and 50°, would either be an avalanche hazard and hence unclimbable, or a simple matter of step- kicking. The first three pitches were snow covered with a hard crust and went exactly as planned. Then we hit ice, which apparently continued all the way to the summit. After some indecision, we veered right. This got us one easy lead and then we were back on snow-covered ice. After three leads, we climbed over some virtual snow steps which marked the top of an old slab avalanche. We then veered right again in the hope that the edge of the upper south face, something of a rib, would have more snow. It did, although there was ice just underneath and we often still had to cut steps. On the latter part of the climb George, and particularly Loren, led, while Tom and I followed, enlarging the steps. One of the tricks on a climb like this is to prepare the route for the descent, for one must climb down what one climbs up. Finally, early in the evening, we were up. Twenty-two pitches of climbing, most of it on ice of widely varying quality often overlaid with a veneer of snow. We had protected almost all the pitches, usually with ice screws, occasionally with plates. I was very tired, and the descent, our second night out, seemed interminable. Finally, by six A.M. on the 14th we were back at camp, having been moving for 31 hours.

Our second major goal was a new route on Fairweather on the north side. The possibilities are extremely limited, as almost the whole north side is overhung by an enormous ice cliff. There appeared to be two possibilities: a rock buttress which looked as if it might break through the ice cliff and a snow rib which joined the east ridge about three-quarters of the way up. The rock buttress was beyond us and we decided to try the snow rib.

After our climb of Root we slept all day. However, by 4:30 A.M. the next morning we were off hauling sleds to the saddle between Fairweather and the subsidiary 12,600+-foot peak on Fairweather’s northeast side. By early afternoon we had reached the saddle and set up camp. Although it was clear the next morning when we set off for the snow rib, it looked as if bad weather was approaching. There appeared to be two cruxes to the climb, the first getting onto the rib, and the second and much harder where the rib merged with the face at the top. I led the first lead through a jumble of ice blocks and crevasses which got me onto the rib itself. By the time my belay was set up it was snowing in earnest. George came up and led the next pitch on fairly low-angle snow, but now we had to retreat under severe blizzard conditions. On the descent we fixed the two pitches. We were dependent on wands and were encrusted in snow. The weather was never again good enough for the climb. The next morning it was windy with broken clouds. After breaking camp we decided to climb the knife-edged but gently sloping southwest ridge of P 12,600+. Part way up, the winds came on in earnest, blowing a good 50 miles per hour, uncomfortable on the knife-edge. The stay on top was extremely brief. That afternoon we sledded down to 11,000 feet and set up camp just north of the valley between Fairweather and the west summit. From here we hoped to climb the north ridge of the west summit where we would join the west ridge route Loren and I had climbed in 1968. After my experiences with ice avalanches in 1974 and the sight of ice blocks all across the valley floor, we had no inclination to bypass the west summit by heading for the saddle between the two peaks. By the time we had set up camp, it was snowing.

It snowed most of the night. In the morning the wind swept across the summit of Fairweather in a loud roar. By late afternoon there was a definite improvement in the weather; by 7:30 we were off. We snowshoed up the valley in deep powder a short way and then swung right up a fairly steep slope of deep snow onto the north ridge of the west peak of Fair-weather, hitting the crest of the ridge slightly above the ice cliff. The ridge was well rounded, not steep, had perfect snow for cramponing, but was laced with crevasses. A hidden snow bridge collapsed under George as he was coming up last and we had to make a minor rescue. Once we were forced to climb down onto the very steep east face to bypass a crevasse. Just below the west summit, a crumbly snow bridge and a short vertical wall gave us some trouble. From the west summit we descended a few hundred feet and started up the ridge leading to the main summit. In 1968 it had been a very straightforward climb up convoluted but very good cramponing snow. Today it was different in the bitter cold wind. The ridge was now criss-crossed with small crevasses, often hidden by powdery snow. Finally, we dragged ourselves for a brief moment onto the summit in miserable weather. Just as we started down, we were hit by the full fury of a storm. If we had been fifteen minutes later, we would have had to turn back before the summit. With visibility limited and our steps covered, we searched endlessly for the wands we had placed every 150 feet. They were our life line. Below the west summit the weather slowly improved. By 2:30 in the afternoon we were back in camp having been climbing for 19 hours.

Two days later we were camped on the low mountain just above our lake. In the heavy brush it took almost all of the following day to descend to the lake. The next day we walked out to the ocean and strolled down the sandy beach. A most fitting end to a mountaineering expedition. At ten A.M. on the 24th the pilot from Channel Flying arrived on schedule and we were on our way back to civilization.

Summary of Statistics:

Area: Fairweather Range, Southeastern Alaska.

Ascents: P 11,105, second ascent, via new route, the North Ridge, June 10, 1977 (whole party).

Mount Root, 12,860 feet, First Ascent, via South Face, June 13, 1977 (whole party).

P 12,600, northeast of Fairweather, First Ascent, via Southwest Ridge, June 17, 1977 (whole party).

Mount Fairweather, 15,300 feet, via a largely new route up the north ridge of the west peak and thence up the west ridge, June 19, 1977 (whole party).

Personnel: Loren Adkins, Thomas Distler, George Fisher, Walter R. Gove.