DAKERS Gowans woke Keith )Hansen and me at one A.M. The weather is clear. After the normal struggle with stiff boots, we groggily emerge to find a magnificent aurora glowing incandescently in the northern sky. A good omen, I hope; yet no sooner do I turn my back than it has vanished—as ephemeral as luck itself.

We waste much time in our igloo, melting snow and cooking breakfast. It isn’t until three o’clock that we are skiing from our camp under Mount Skarland to the cirque beneath the west face of Mount Hayes. Several hours later, under the face, we change skis for crampons.

Soon we plod through knee-deep snow towards the bergschrund. The face looms large and chaotic. Details seen from below are lost in a labyrinth of couloirs and towering rock buttresses. A short steep pitch gets us across the schrund and we move together up the lower snow slopes. Above us lies a direct, aesthetic line which leads to just left of the summit, but it is perched under unfriendly ice cliffs. Prudently we choose a safer route to the left. After 1000 feet or so, we cross a short rocky section to the left and gain a couloir which leads to the upper ice slopes. The icy couloir is filled in the middle with wind-packed snow. We continue simultaneous movement under optimum conditions. The ideal snow makes it almost disappointingly easy. The upper ice slope looks short from where we are, but we shall not be duped by the fore-shortening. It must still be 2500 feet to the north ridge. Being primarily frozen névé, we can avoid most of the water ice.

We reach the north ridge in cold wind at 3:15 P.M., realizing that we have climbed the entire 5000-foot face in nine hours, thanks to the perfect conditions. It still being a fair bit to the summit, we dig a cave for our bivouac. Keith confides, “Whatever it was that I was supposed to feel down there, it just didn’t come.” I feel too that the ascent had a certain emptiness about it that is difficult to grasp.

Rising late the next day, we are greeted by a cold, clear, perfectly still morning. We find the upper north ridge to be a classic Alaskan climb. It is a dream world of delicately laced cornices and intriguing traverses. I feel humble respect for those who pioneered this fine climb so many years ago. (The first ascent was made by Bradford and Barbara Washburn, Henry S. Hall, Jr., Dr. Benjamin Ferris, Sterling Hendricks,

William Shand and Lieutenant Robin Montgomery in 1941. See A.A.J., 1942, pages 323–324.)

By noon we are on the summit, taking in the magnificent scenery and feeling vague sensations of flying above all the surrounding peaks. Whatever it is we missed on the west face, I’m feeling it now.

After returning to our snow cave at three P.M., we decide to stop rather than to build a new one lower down. And besides, the weather is fine.

The next morning we are up at four A.M. after a very chilly bivouac. Clouds scud from the east. It only takes us an hour to get ready and soon we are moving down the north ridge. The descent has an ethereal, mystical quality. Clouds part and gather, filtering the sun into ghostly shadows, while the ridge crest divides the mountain into highly contrasting planes of dark and light. By mid-afternoon we drag our weary bodies into camp. Is it the climb or its aftermath that please me most? Hunger and thirst interrupt my reverie. Yes, it was a fine climb.

Summary of Statistics:

Area: Alaska Range.

New Routes: Mount Hayes, 13,832 feet, sixth ascent and first ascent of the west face to the north ridge, April 21 to 23, 1976.

Mount Skarland, 10,350 feet, second ascent and first ascent of the southeast ridge, April 18, 1976.

Personnel: Dakers Gowans, Keith Hansen, Dave Davis.