Max Kilcoyne: Denali

The Alaska Range is a special place because of how remote and wild it is. To reach the
mountains, you drive two hours north from Anchorage to the tiny town of Talkeetna before taking a 45-minute bush plane flight onto the glacier. For Denali, the plane lands at the foot of the impressive north face of Mount Hunter on the Kahiltna Glacier. 

I flew onto the glacier on May 22 after being weathered in Talkeetna for two days while a storm prevented pilots from flying into the range. Over the next six days I slowly worked my way from 7,000 feet to 14,000 feet, establishing a base camp where I could acclimatize before beginning my climb.

The goal of the trip was to solo the Cassin Ridge in a fast-and-light single push before
attempting a ski descent of Denali’s South Face. The Cassin is one of North America’s all-time classic alpine climbs: a striking 8,000-foot ridge that divides Denali’s South and Southwest Faces. The route contains roughly 5,000 feet of technical climbing, with difficulties up to WI4 and 5.8, followed by another 3,000 feet of 45–50° snow leading to the summit ridge at 20,310 feet.

After establishing camp at 14,000 feet, I headed out for my first acclimatization push. I planned to climb only as long as I felt good, but ended up summiting solo on May 29. I stood alone on the summit at 7:30 p.m. with my skis, trying to decide how to descend.

No one had skied the classic Messner Couloir yet that season, and it seemed like the most enjoyable option. The Messner is a sustained 6,000-foot couloir dropping from 19,500 feet directly back to 14 Camp. It holds over 40° for nearly its entire length, with steeper rolls approaching 50°. Being the first person to ski it that season—and doing it solo—was intimidating. I didn’t know how much glacial ice might be lurking beneath the snow or what conditions I would find, but it turned into one of the best ski descents I’ve ever had, with nearly perfect snow all to myself.

Now more acclimatized and having already been to the summit, it was time to wait for a weather window on the Cassin.

The biggest challenge in attempting a fast ascent of the Cassin is trail breaking. Fresh snow with no one ahead of you can dramatically slow your pace. Fortunately, my friends Tom Grant, Freja Shannon, and Kishen Mangnant were planning to climb the route over three days and generously invited me to approach with them before starting a day later. Their track would save me valuable time and energy.

After a few more acclimatization laps up to 17,000 feet, a perfect weather window finally arrived. It was a rare five-day stretch of stable weather, and everyone on the mountain was preparing for their objectives.

On June 2, Tom, Freja, Kishen, and I began the approach to the Cassin. Reaching the base of the route is far from straightforward and involves significant objective hazard. From 14 Camp you climb 1,300 feet to the Seattle Ramp, a 3,000-foot glacier spilling into the Northeast Fork of the Kahiltna. The lower half is a maze of crevasses with large seracs looming overhead. Moving efficiently as a rope team of four, we crossed without incident and reached the base of the route by 6:30 p.m. After setting up camp, eating dinner, and getting some rest, they prepared to start climbing the next morning.

Tom, Freja, and Kishen started the route on June 3, climbing roughly 2,000 feet to their first bivy. My plan was to spend that day resting while they broke trail as high as possible so I could attempt the route in a single push the following morning.

At 9:40 a.m. on June 4, I stepped over the bergschrund and officially started my climb.

The first 800 feet follow the Japanese Couloir, a steep 50–60° ice-filled gully with a WI4 crux pitch. I climbed deliberately, making sure every pick and crampon placement was solid while settling into the rhythm of the day. By the top of the couloir I had warmed up, shed a few layers, and began moving faster and more fluidly.

Above the couloir, a short 5.8 rock step leads onto an incredible 1,000-foot snow-and-ice arête—one of the most unique features I’ve ever climbed. I moved quickly through this section, fully settled into a comfortable soloing headspace and having an incredible time. I reached the top of the technical climbing at 16,700 feet after exactly five hours.

At that point I believed an ascent under eight hours—and Colin Haley’s 2018 record—might actually be possible. I ate some food and pushed as hard as I could.

I stayed on pace for a while, but as I climbed higher the altitude finally caught up with me. I simply wasn’t acclimatized enough. By 19,000 feet everything fell apart. My pace slowed dramatically, the wind increased, temperatures dropped, and the bootpack I had been following disappeared beneath fresh snow.

I fought my way through the final 1,000 feet and reached the summit ridge 9 hours and 12 minutes after stepping onto the route. From there, another 150 feet of exposed ridge leads to Denali’s true summit. When I arrived, roughly 20 guided climbers were crowded along the ridge. Completely exhausted, and having already stood on the summit earlier in the trip, I decided not to continue the final few minutes.

Some people may see that as not completing the route or taking the easy way out, but climbing is ultimately a deeply personal pursuit. For me, this climb represented years of preparation and one of the most rewarding days I’ve ever spent moving through big, complex alpine terrain. Touching the highest point wasn’t what made the experience meaningful.

The original plan was to ski the South Face while staying as close to the Cassin Ridge as possible. Unfortunately, strong early-season south winds and a lack of snow left my intended line unskiable.

After taking a rest day, waiting for Tom, Freja, and Kishen to finish their climb, I packed up my camp at 14,000 feet, skied back down the Kahiltna Glacier to 7,000 feet, and caught a bush plane back to Talkeetna—where warm pizza was waiting.