Mt. Logan

The adventure kicked off today with a fair share of tumult. As planned, I had my passport ready for my evening departure, but, as luck would have it, it managed to find its way under my bed. I ransacked my bags three times in search of the elusive document until, thanks to my playful cat, I discovered its hiding place. Racing against time, I managed to make it to the airport in time to embark on my journey. I have to admit, the adrenaline was pumping! The airport was surprisingly accommodating, and the newly opened terminal wing in SLC added an element of novelty to my travels.
A minor hiccup arose when our flight was delayed due to some fellow passengers arriving late from Atlanta, but it gave me a chance to meet up with Ryan, my stalwart companion in this escapade, who was en route from St. George, Utah. Together, we navigated the labyrinthine Vancouver airport, grumbling about the incongruous location of our hotel, yet profoundly grateful for its proximity. Our camaraderie made the otherwise daunting task of managing our 143 pounds worth of gear through elevators and corridors significantly less burdensome. We finally made it to our rooms around 1am, exhaustion quickly coaxing me into a restful sleep by 2am.
xoxo Jenn

Rising at the early hour of 5:50 am, the day ahead required fortitude. After a refreshing shower and a hearty breakfast post-security check, we boarded our 2-hour and 15-minute flight, a leg of the journey bringing us closer to our destination.Upon arrival, Todd, our trusty guide, was there to assist us in loading our gear into the rental car. Our rental house, though not the epitome of comfort, offered a safe harbor for the night. We did an inventory check, discarded some surplus items, and then ventured downtown for a couple of necessary additions, including a bowl for my assortment of soups.

After a quick trip to the local grocery store for a few more essentials, we returned to the house to prepare for the impending journey, charging all necessary electronics and double-checking our equipment.Tomorrow’s plan is ambitious: we intend to head to Haines Junction at 7 am, with Ryan and Todd aiming to be on the glacier by 10 am. Unfortunately, space restrictions mean I’ll have to follow on the returning plane with any additional gear. Weather permitting, we hope to make it to Camp 1. The sheer determination among us is palpable; everyone is eager to conquer this colossal mountain.Despite a failed attempt by a previous team due to altitude sickness, and the knowledge of another team following in our footsteps, I feel less apprehensive and more exhilarated. The massive snowfall this year should work to our advantage, filling in the treacherous crevasses and perhaps our delayed start might bless us with slightly warmer weather. The spring has reportedly been pushed back a few weeks, but I’m retaining my optimism.

Now, more than ever, we need to ride on this wave of positive momentum. The adventure awaits!

xoxo Jenn

Today marked the beginning of our grand expedition on the glacier, and it was a day filled with excitement and challenges. Ryan and Todd had already touched down on the icy expanse at around 11 am, eagerly awaiting my arrival in the second plane. It wasn’t until 3 pm that I finally landed, joining them amidst the stunning frozen landscape. As I disembarked, I was greeted by the sight of our pitched tents, standing tall against the vast, desolate beauty of the glacier.Despite the late arrival, we wasted no time. Determined to make the most of our remaining daylight, we resolved to undertake the arduous task of carrying our gear to camp 1.

The weight of our provisions was substantial, making it the heaviest load of the trip.The journey thus far has been nothing short of extraordinary. Today, the weather bestowed upon us its finest gifts, surpassing any day I experienced during the previous season. The sun shone brightly, casting a warm glow on the frozen landscape, and a gentle breeze accompanied us as we made our way across the glacier. It felt as if nature itself was conspiring to bless our expedition with good fortune.The combined weight of our belongings amounted to a staggering 450 pounds, making our loads incredibly burdensome. Yet, undeterred by the weight on our shoulders, we pressed on with unwavering determination.Finally, we successfully stowed our gear at camp 1. Eager to replenish our energy, we sat down for a well-deserved snack before strapping on our skis. The descent awaited us, promising an exhilarating and swift journey down the slope. The speed at which we glided downhill was truly remarkable, a welcome respite after the grueling ascent we had endured. It was moments like these that made all the hardships worthwhile. However, navigating the glacier with our sleds proved to be more challenging than anticipated. The uneven terrain and the resistance against our progress reminded me of trying to run against a relentless wind on a bumpy surface. I can only hope that the strain of today’s exertions will not leave me sore and weary come morning. Tomorrow the weather forecast predicts an approaching storm. With the knowledge that time is of the essence, we aim to reach the spot where we had stashed our gear before the tempest could unleash its fury upon us.

As I write this journal entry, Todd is preparing dinner, and we will soon retire to our tents, even though the midnight sky will still be illuminated by the ever-present sun. It is one of the perks of being this far north, where daylight persists, offering its warmth and comfort to help ward off the icy cold. Tomorrow, we will face the impending storm, armed with the knowledge that our gear is safely stored. We will brace ourselves for the challenges that lie ahead, knowing that each trial will bring us closer to our ultimate goal. As I drift off to sleep, my mind fills with anticipation for the adventures yet to come and gratitude for the remarkable start of our glacier expedition.

xoxo Jenn

The sharp chill of this morning was biting, even inside the sanctity of our tent. My breath was visible, a frosty white cloud hanging in the air for just a moment before dissipating. We held off starting our day, waiting for the sun to bless us with its warmth – its presence truly does make a world of difference. A biting breeze nipped at our faces, hinting at the storms brewing on the horizon. With the ominous clouds congregating in the distance, we couldn’t help but wonder what tomorrow might hold. Our loads were mercifully light today, a scant 60 pounds compared to yesterday’s back-breaking burden. We paused for a quick snack, steeling ourselves for the steep climb that lay ahead. But the promise of setting up camp, and a temporary respite from the cold, spurred us on.By the time we tackled the steepest section, snowflakes began to drift down, covering us in a blanket of white.

The unforgiving weather dogged us right up to Camp 1. A light storm, a biting mix of wind and snow, hit us in the final stretch. Layered up in everything we had, we forged ahead as fast as our weary legs could carry us.Setting up the tent was a challenge, with snow needing to be dug out and moved aside. But at least we could lay our heads level tonight, sleeping sideways in our makeshift home. The strengthening winds outside were a harsh reminder of the importance of acclimating in this weather, and so, we hunkered down.The storm finally afforded us a brief respite, and it felt like a godsend. The snowfall had obliterated our previous tracks, making our task for tomorrow significantly harder.

The hefty sleds we pull glide more easily on ice than through the fresh snow. And as much as we crave for a change of scenery, our environment is a monotonous palette of white snow, black rock, and blue sky. The lack of wildlife is almost eerie, no chirping birds or skittering creatures. All we’ve got for now is our own company, food, and the ceaseless act of hydrating.The snow has also brought avalanches, their thunderous roars echoing in the distance, unseen due to the white fog. One small comfort from this weather is the absence of blinding sunlight reflecting off the snow. Glacier glasses have been crucial, shielding our eyes from the glare.

At this moment, Todd is preparing dinner, the smell of food and heated tea filling the tent. We’re immensely grateful for the food from Nutritional Fitness; they’ve been nothing short of amazing. Looking forward to a carry day tomorrow – heavier loads but an anticipation of reaching Camp 2, our higher base camp. Comparatively, this year’s journey has been smoother, and we can’t help but hope that this positive momentum will continue.

Today, we successfully relocated to Camp 2. This spot will serve as our advanced base camp, a place of rest and respite until we can confidently ascend further. When we complete our journey, we’ll spend a final night here before the thrilling flight off the glacier.The day was a sampler of weather conditions, a testament to the unpredictability of this alpine environment. We started off with a pleasant shade and a tranquil absence of wind, which was quickly replaced by a fierce gust, a sudden fog, and a steady snowfall.

We relied on yesterday’s tracks to navigate our way through the disorienting whiteness.Upon reaching our new camp, we had to dig out space for the tent, erecting wind walls to safeguard our makeshift home. Despite the storm, the winds eventually softened and the light brightened, hinting at the sun’s desperate struggle to break through the cloud cover. The distinct chill here at Camp 2 is noticeable compared to the lower camp, matched only by the profound silence, broken only by the distinctive squeak of snow under our movements. Our journey up the icy hills demanded the use of ski crampons – much icier than last year’s venture. With the cold weather seemingly devouring our energy, we’ve been consuming food nonstop.

Another team is present on the mountain, though we’ve yet to meet them. We’ve observed their camp from a distance; they’ve been on the glacier four days longer than us, yet they’ve not ascended further. We noted their uphill and downhill tracks, suggesting they had a carry day today.The most challenging part of our climb lies between Camp 2 and Camp 3. We’ll decide on our next move depending on the weather – either a carry day or a rest day. With our preemptive decision to haul all our gear to Camp 2, we’ve successfully saved a back-carry day – a move I’m grateful for now, despite the strain it caused in the moment.

Caught in the storm today, I confess, I yearned for the comfort of Camp 1. Yet, when there’s nothing to return to, pressing forward becomes a clear, albeit hard, choice. My face still bears the sting of windburn from yesterday, particularly my nose, a painful reminder of the elements we’re contending with. Our rest this evening has been well earned. Exhaustion pervades our camp, and we look forward to our dinner in a few hours. We will plan tomorrow’s agenda once we’ve had a moment to catch our breath and assess the weather conditions. The unpredictable environment is a constant reminder that we must remain flexible and ready to adapt to whatever challenges come our way.

xoxo Jenn

We endured our coldest night yet. Venturing any part of your face out of the safety of the sleeping bag felt like a biting ice cream headache. Even the zipper on the sleeping bag radiated a chilling touch. This morning, we find ourselves awaiting the sun’s gentle warmth before we undertake a carry to the peak of the most daunting incline. Our plans for tomorrow are contingent upon the weather’s cooperation. If the elements are in our favor, we’ll ascend with all our gear, then retrieve our stashed provisions, and set our sights on Camp 3. Now, more than ever, the weather becomes a vital factor. We need to remain vigilant for high winds, as they pose the risk of frostbite.

My teammates, Todd and Ryan, are the epitome of mountaineering competence. Their expertise in camp construction, gear transport, and every other necessary task is awe-inspiring. As of yet, I haven’t quite mastered the art of falling asleep to their sonorous duet of snores – an unexpected lullaby that echoes through the still, icy night. The companionship and camaraderie here on the mountain, in the face of extreme conditions, is unlike any other. Every day brings a new challenge, but also a new reason to appreciate this extraordinary journey.This day called for a challenging ascent up a formidable hill, our sleds trailing empty behind us and our backpacks burdened with the weight of supplies.

The weather graced us with perfect conditions for this endeavor. We stowed everything just beyond the hill’s peak, preparing to retrieve it tomorrow along with the remainder of our gear for the next phase of our journey to Camp 3.The other team on the mountain, a friendly group from Austria and Germany, crossed our path today. They are four days ahead of us in this grueling race against nature, set to relocate to Camp 3 today. We owe them our gratitude for blazing the trail up the steep incline today, their efforts greatly appreciated.We may encounter them again tomorrow, depending on their pace. This morning’s exceptional weather had me contemplating an ambitious double carry in hopes of reaching Camp 3. However, the wind gathered strength in the afternoon, halting these plans.Taking advantage of this slower pace, we relished in a small luxury – wet wipe showers – and gave our bodies a moment to acclimate.

We harbor hopes for a calm, windless morning, accompanied by good moving weather.In these freezing conditions, even brief gloveless periods render our hands frigid, needing about an hour to regain their warmth. Maintaining skin coverage is a constant battle, yet a necessary one to avoid the biting frost.Back home, my mom has taken the reins, ensuring my kids are cared for. This brings a comforting sense of relief, easing my worries and allowing me to focus on the journey ahead. I’m grateful for this invaluable assistance both here on the icy slopes and at home in the warmth of family. I miss everyone dearly and cherish the messages trickling in from home. The words of encouragement fuel our resolve, keeping us moving forward. This extraordinary journey continues to challenge and inspire us in equal measure. Every day is a new adventure, every night a quiet reflection on our achievements and aspirations.

xoxo

Today, we’re forging our path towards Camp 3. The sky is shrouded in a thick blanket of overcast, yet we still hold on to our visibility. The day carries an eerie calm; the only signs of life being the team and me. The howling wind remains our sole companion for sounds, and the chromatic palette of our surroundings is limited – black rock, blue sky, yellow sun, and a canvas of varying white shades.Our daily routine has evolved into a minimalist symphony.

By 8 pm, we’re snug in our sleeping bags, sharing stories to lull us into sleep. I have been battling sleeplessness. The sleeping bag feels constrictive, although it’s essential in this frigid environment. Rated for 40 below, our bags are initially toasty, adjusting to the night’s cold as hours slip by. Come morning, no one wishes to escape the cocoon of warmth.Our day starts slow, usually around 8 or 8:30 am, with the ignition of the stoves and gradual preparation for the day’s endeavors. With heavy loads to haul and our bodies acclimatizing to the high altitude, progress is slow yet steady. Our decision to kick off two weeks later this year seems wise. Despite the various weather conditions we’ve encountered, there is an underlying warmth that provides some relief.

Each of us carries thoughts of loved ones back home, their support bolstering our spirits, their absence tugging at our hearts. Ryan’s life partner, Tonya, is one such anchor. Having known Ryan pre-Tonya, I’ve witnessed his transformation in love, and it’s a delight to see him flourishing with her.I met Todd in 2020 when he helped me train for Tyree. His wife Winslow, a fellow guide, stays home during our big adventures, taking care of their son Bodhi. Bodhi is a year younger than my twins, serving as another connection between us.Ryan and Tonya’s lacrosse star son, Travis, is the same age as my son, Jack. These expeditions not only strengthen our friendships but also deepen the relationships back home.

The looming weather doesn’t promise an easy journey, but we will take each day as it comes, navigating any challenge Mother Nature throws at us. We’ve progressed faster than anticipated so far, with ample food supplies to wait out any unfavorable weather. Naturally, we’d all prefer a swifter conclusion to our journey, but patience is key. Signing off for now. Time to enjoy some of the fantastic eggs that Beldon from Nutritional Fitness kindly prepared for our expedition. The little comforts from home certainly make a world of difference on this extraordinary journey.

xoxo Jenn

UPDATE

We reached Camp 3 today, only to find the weather closing in ominously. What comes next is in the hands of the gods and the whims of Mother Nature. Our climb to Camp 3 felt nothing short of a miracle, testing our mettle every grueling step of the way.As we traversed the glacier field, visibility slipped away, leaving us in an unsettling white void. The ethereal beauty of the landscape was accompanied by an undercurrent of tension, the unspoken truth of the inherent risks we were taking. We navigated the territory with caution and strategy, going astray a few times but managing to find our way back. Such is the dance with the unknown in a total whiteout.

After the demanding day, a palpable fatigue hangs over the team. It’s time to retreat into recovery mode and replenish our energy reserves. Despite our isolation, snippets of the outside world manage to sneak in and brighten our spirits. Todd received news from my assistant that his friend Brian has been following our updates. It’s a heartening reminder that even as we stand alone against the formidable forces of nature, we are connected by invisible threads of fellowship and concern.As the soft hush of snowfall muffles the outside world, we cocoon ourselves in rest and preparation for whatever lies ahead. In the silence of the camp, we are left with our thoughts and the anticipation of the path that awaits. For now, we rest, drawing on the resilience that has brought us this far and will undoubtedly carry us through the challenges to come.

Here we are, at Camp 3, approximately 14 miles and 8,000 vertical feet from the summit. All that awaits us from here on out is a daunting journey above 16,000 feet. While we acclimatize from yesterday’s elevation of around 13,000 feet, we’re also taking the necessary respite after that strenuous ascent. The day initially held the promise of ideal climbing conditions. However, the fickle nature of mountain weather had other plans. Visibility faded, snowfall intensified, and here we remain, holed up in our camp, waiting for the storm to pass.

Navigating this wilderness is a delicate balancing act. We’re teetering on a knife-edge, constantly assessing the threat of avalanches with the expected 30-plus inches of snow over the next couple of days. The wind is another adversary. Above 20 mph in these frigid temperatures, frostbite becomes an all-too-real danger. Our ideal condition is calm – winds at 0 mph would be heavenly. Unfortunately, the forecast for the upcoming week predicts winds far above our safe limit.We arrived at Camp 3 equipped with provisions for seven days. The reduced tent space means that rolling over almost becomes a coordinated dance. If the weather forces us to extend our stay, we’ll need to venture back to Camp 2 for more supplies. This presents its own set of challenges, with visibility threats, crevasse danger, and potential avalanches. The path we’ve marked will be swallowed by the fresh snowfall, forcing us to navigate anew.

This mountain has proven to be a relentless weather beast, keeping us vigilant and on our toes. We had hoped for a miracle – a chance to push for the summit today. Instead, we find ourselves praying for patience and better weather conditions. And, on a more personal note, for my stalwart tent mates to cease their symphony of snores. Perhaps trivial in the grand scheme of things, yet sleep deprivation, when added to the absence of creature comforts, begins to wear thin. Here’s to the rolling good times, once the weather decides to cooperate.

UPDATE

We were confined to the tent throughout the day, a reluctant concession to the relentless weather outside. As it stands, tomorrow seems to promise an even harsher storm, the peak of this weather system’s fury. The forecast shows the storm still raging on Friday, possibly breaking by Saturday, only to resume its onslaught by Sunday.Our immediate future appears to be a test of endurance within the confines of our small tent. Going to bed soon, we can only hope that this turbulent period passes swiftly, leaving minimal impact on our progress. Despite the unsettling soundtrack of the storm outside, we will attempt to find some peace in sleep, taking turns in our tight quarters and preparing for whatever the new day brings.

Resilience is the name of the game now, as we weather this storm. We’ll cling to patience and the hope of better days, our spirits buoyed by the thought of calmer weather, clear skies, and the path to the summit opening up once more. For now, though, we dream of the summit in our frosty, wind-battered tent, riding out the tempest as best we can.

The predicted snowfall is upon us, as intense and relentless as forecasted. Yesterday, we took proactive measures to fortify our camp, extending the walls of our snow fortress to offer additional protection from the relentless gusts of wind. However, these harsh winds aren’t expected to start until the afternoon and will likely continue through tomorrow. An intriguing prospect has risen amidst this tempestuous weather; if the snow halts by early Saturday morning, we might consider a bold summit push directly from Camp 3. The alternative, hauling all our gear to Camp 4 or Camp 5, necessitates multiple consecutive days of good weather, a luxury we’re unlikely to experience.

The geographical structure of the mountain adds a twist to our decision-making. We would ascend to almost 18,000 feet, then descend to 16,000 feet, and finally aim for the summit at 19,551 feet. Towing our gear over this undulating terrain is a labor-intensive task, and we’ll require favorable weather to bring everything back. By choosing to stay at Camp 3, we conserve energy but add considerable mileage and vertical feet to our summit push. It’s a calculated risk, but one we’re willing to take. The presence of another team on the mountain introduces a new dynamic. We’ve discussed potentially teaming up for the summit push. At least two of their members seem eager to join us, likely possessing the endurance required for such a task. The distance or vertical climb isn’t the main concern, rather it’s the frigid temperatures, strong winds, poor visibility, and the uncharted territory ahead. Adding to the complexity, all of this must be navigated between 16,000 to 19,500 feet.

To keep a pulse on our unpredictable environment, I’ve set waypoints to track the weather across our route, checking them twice a day. This helps ensure we won’t be caught off guard by 50 mph winds on the summit, a situation we must avoid at all costs. Currently, we’re receiving the expected snowfall while the summit is being battered by ferocious winds. However, a shift in wind direction is expected on Saturday, offering a potentially favorable window for our summit push, provided the path remains safe.

The extended forecast teases a few periods of calmer weather in the first week of June, although predicting conditions this far out is notoriously unreliable. Still, the enforced idleness in our tent provides ample time to mull over all our options. Despite the challenging conditions, we remain resolute, our focus unwavering: the summit awaits.

Thursday Update

The storm shows no sign of abating. Already, we’re submerged under a foot of snow, with drifts reaching 2 to 3 feet. Our tent feels like a gladiator in an arena, continuously wrestling against the unforgiving wind, despite the snow walls we’ve erected in defense. We’re fighting against the odds, but there’s an unexpected, quirky challenge: boredom.

But it’s not all a grim battle against the elements. We’ve found reasons to laugh, to keep our spirits high amidst the relentless onslaught of this wild storm. I believe we’ve stumbled upon a profound lesson here – the ability to find joy in the face of life’s fiercest storms. It’s a simple yet profound truth that continues to uplift our spirits even as the snow deepens outside.

Today, we’ve been cocooned in our tent, the outside world veiled by a ceaseless flurry of snow. Tomorrow, we brace for a potentially harsher weather. Yet, within the heart of this relentless storm, we harbor a daring thought: another day of this, and we may risk a summit push despite the ferocious weather. The thought of sitting idle, doing nothing but waiting, is far more daunting. Our spirit of adventure urges us to push forward, even when the world outside seems intent on holding us back.

Our prayers are simple: less snow, less wind. Last night, the storm’s intensity tested our resilience, with so much snow falling that we had to unbury our tent twice. The wind gusts were relentless, carrying snow around and over the tent, obscuring our gear and skis. Our skis, once visible against the snowy landscape, were swallowed whole by the relentless snowfall. We had to search for them, unearth them from their white tomb, and relocate all our gear to keep it within our sight.

Our lives hang in the balance, the thread of a nylon tent being the only thing between us and the unforgiving elements outside. We’re guarding it fervently, understanding that its preservation is paramount for our survival.

The storm is expected to rage on for another day, albeit with gradually waning intensity. But the damage has been done. We’re exhausted to the bone, a night of restless vigil and storm-watch leaving us drained. We huddled together amidst our gear, discussing the daunting possibility of the tent’s destruction, a conversation that underscored the grim reality of our situation.

Our plan for the days ahead will be dictated by the temperament of today’s storm. We’re in constant touch with the other team on the mountain, who have a pressing need to descend by Monday. We scan the forecast incessantly, hoping for a suitable weather window. But the mountain remains a formidable adversary, dishing out relentless weather that makes identifying a reasonable risk window a herculean task.

Our ability to charge devices is hampered by the severe weather, which will likely limit our communication for a while. The outpouring of support we’ve received is truly humbling, each message serving as a beacon of hope amid the storm.

Today, the wind gusts are expected to drop by 10 to 15 knots, which is a significant relief. Yet, the snow shows no sign of stopping. It’s falling at an astonishing rate, almost an inch of liquid per hour, which translates to a staggering amount of snow at these freezing temperatures. Our shovels are ready, but it’s a moot point if the wind continues to whip away the snow we clear. It’s a light, powdery snow, easily carried off by the wind.

The last 24 hours have been nothing short of an extraordinary adventure, a test of our resilience against the raw, untamed might of Mother Nature.

Love Jenn

Friday Update

To everyone who sent prayers, vibes, and well-wishes, your support has made a tangible difference. Out of nowhere, an unexpected blessing graced us – a brief, two-hour window of sun that gave us the opportunity to reset our camp. This came after enduring the most severe conditions I’ve ever faced on any mountain. It seems that we’ve turned a corner now.

However, our summit attempt tomorrow will likely be postponed. The forecast indicates several more days of unfavorable weather, a prospect that is far from ideal. Yet, every storm has a silver lining, and we’re hoping that a change in weather patterns could follow this period of relentless storm.

Your unwavering support bolstered us today, enabling us to position ourselves better to face the upcoming challenges. And in these challenging times, every advantage counts. We used our brief respite to bolster our defenses against the future weather onslaught that is yet to come. Thank you again for your encouragement and kind thoughts; we needed it more than ever.

The temperature nosedived today, plunging to the lowest we’ve experienced on this expedition. Thankfully, the snowfall has slowed, now coming in inches rather than the relentless feet we’ve been battling, and the howling wind has decided to give us a brief respite.

If visibility improves, we plan to journey back to Camp 2 to gather more provisions to bring back to Camp 3. However, this depends entirely on our ability to see, as the route between the two camps is riddled with expansive crevasses that pose a significant danger.

Our initial plans had marked today as our summit day, but the unpredictable weather had other ideas, ruling out any chance of a summit attempt. Sunlight is a coveted commodity out here. We’re longing for a sunny day not just for the warmth it provides, but also to recharge our devices and reestablish our communication lines.

I will continue to provide updates as the day unfolds! Our hopes remain high, and our determination is unshaken. We’re bracing for what’s to come, ready to seize any opportunity nature presents.

We awoke to a tent swallowed by snow, spending the morning wrestling it free from winter’s icy grasp. The ceaseless flurry continues unabated, hampering our plans to descend for supplies. The snow is relentless, akin to a soda fountain left running, spilling its frothy contents endlessly. We’re crossing our fingers for better news tomorrow. Send your prayers, for the weather is brutal and our food supplies are dwindling.

The high altitude paints our dreams in vivid hues, a strange side effect that’s always fascinating. In these harsh conditions, we’re ever vigilant for any positivity, any silver lining within the storm clouds. Today, it was the discovery of a rip in our tent – a problem, indeed, but one we could solve, helping us feel a semblance of control in the unpredictable wilds.

The weather is showing a faint sign of mercy, with temperatures feeling more like -25, -29 rather than the previous -46ish. This minor shift in temperature means we burn fewer calories, which is a welcome reprieve considering our current situation.

We’ve shaken off the snowy shroud from our tent another couple of times, and there’s a glimmer of hope that the snowfall might halt for the next 12 hours, a break we desperately need.

Traversing the 8-hour round trip to Camp 2 is fraught with dangers – crevasses and avalanche-prone areas. We’re continually evaluating our options, juggling risks and rewards. Late this week, we might see an improvement in weather conditions, and that’s a hope we cling to.

Todd ventured out to ski towards the other group, lost to sight in the whiteout, a few football fields away. We’ve been sharing intel and managed to get some repair tape for our tent from them, working together for mutual survival.

Refueling remains an unfulfilled task. So, we’re praying for a weather window tomorrow, a break that will allow us to replenish our food supplies at Camp 3 and hopefully gift us a bit of sunshine to recharge our electronic devices. Until then, we endure.

Jenn

At 6pm yesterday, a miraculous clearing graced the sky. Seizing the window of opportunity, we embarked on a journey down to Camp 2 at 7, a mission to resupply. We trudged back to our tent by 2am, weary but with food in our packs. The chill of the return trip was biting, fierce enough to leave its mark on Ryan, claiming a few of his fingers with frostbite. A harsh blow, compelling him to stay warm and forego any summit attempts – a decision heavy on all our hearts.

The plan ahead is uncertain. We might attempt a summit on Tuesday without Ryan, or possibly wait till Thursday. As it stands now, the most favorable conditions appear to be slated for the end of the week. But mountain weather is fickle and unpredictable. We yearn to complete our mission and descend safely. Today, we will rest, allowing our bodies to recuperate, hearts heavy with worry, yet grateful that Ryan won’t lose his fingers. The healing process will take time, and won’t be pleasant. Two of his toes are also in a questionable state, so we’ve been in touch with Parks Canada about a potential rescue operation.

It seems likely that Ryan will be evacuated tomorrow, given the weather outlook. If the conditions hold, Todd and I aim to summit on Thursday. However, now we are burdened with the task of hauling gear intended for three, slowing our descent. At this altitude, 16,000 feet, Ryan will likely be long-lined off the mountain – strapped into a suit and lifted off by a helicopter before being lowered down to a safer location for transport. He remains in good spirits, enduring the wait with patience. We are relieved that the situation isn’t worse. A few months of healing should see him back to his usual self.

With Ryan’s absence, we are compelled to launch our summit attempt from Camp 3, bypassing Camps 4 and 5. I don’t possess the strength to lug the extra load over the pass, making our summit day a long and grueling endeavor. We can’t accompany Ryan in the helicopter, and our priority is to get him off the mountain as swiftly as possible.

Even with visibility, our trip to Camp 2 last night was a maze – we got lost despite marking the trail. The snow’s relentless cover swallowed our wands. Perhaps we’ll use our footprints from last night’s expedition for our final descent, but this mountain seems to have a knack for wiping clean any human trace daily.

Back at camp, with our food supplies replenished, we are feasting like there’s no tomorrow. Activities to pass the time are sparse, and any food we don’t consume becomes an added burden to carry down. In these quiet moments, we are reminded of the fragile balance between man and nature, missing our loved ones while embracing the tough lessons this mountain continues to teach.

Ryan was just airlifted by a helicopter, a speck against the vastness of the sky. They had a rescue member land, securing Ryan in a ‘screamer suit’ before whisking him away towards base camp. There, they can safely land the helicopter for him to enter. They promised to return for his gear at the camp – a substantial relief for Todd and I as we prepare for a treacherous descent. While we must still transport his supplies from Camp 2, sharing the load between the two of us, this gesture alleviates the burden of his sleeping bag, backpack, skis, and various gear – all significant weight, especially considering the hazardous part of the descent between Camps 2 and 3.

Our companions from the European team embarked on their summit attempt this morning. Our hearts were heavy, wishing we could’ve joined them – the strength in numbers offering a level of comfort. However, their return should provide valuable insights to aid our own endeavor. The sky is as clear as it’s been since our arrival, but a storm is brewing for the weekend. Our window of opportunity is narrowing. The plan is to strive for the summit tomorrow, or possibly Thursday, then hastily retreat from this relentless mountain before the storm unleashes its fury.

My eyes watered as Ryan was whisked away, a melancholy conclusion to our shared expedition. Witnessing his discomfort was heartbreaking. I managed to hold back the flood of emotions until he was out of sight. Then, I let them wash over me, a torrent of relief and sorrow. Now, we look ahead to our summit attempt, a feat hard-earned on countless levels.

We’ve been on an arduous journey, oscillating between life-threatening experiences and relentless elements. From our near-death experience in our snow-buried tent, to the chilling night that claimed Ryan’s fingers with frostbite. We face a daunting summit challenge – just the two of us, 14-plus miles into the wilderness, navigating unfamiliar terrains in temperatures plunging into the negative 20’s. Food rationing, mental and physical exhaustion have pushed us to our limits.

We’re packing bags and allowing things to settle today, preparing for a marathon of a summit push tomorrow. Anticipating a gruelling 20-hour trek, though we’re hoping for less. Our tracker will be set at 30-minute intervals, conserving battery life for essential navigation. Our celebration will hold until we’re safely back at the tent – mindful that most fatalities occur during descent. Today has been about mental fortification, gear checks, meal planning, and hypothetical scenario training.

A coincidence not lost on me, the potential summit date – 5/31/23, matches my Everest summit date exactly. As I pen this, news comes in from the park officials – they won’t return for a sling load of Ryan’s gear. We will have to shoulder the additional load from Camp 3 to Camp 2. An unwelcome development in an already formidable task. The mountain tests our resolve, but we won’t let it break our spirits.

Love, Jenn

Our intentions of making a summit push today were thwarted. The mountain, like a grizzled old soldier, refused to yield to our plans as the weather took an unforgiving turn. Adding to the challenge, we received word from the other team, the one that embarked on their summit attempt yesterday. They didn’t reach the summit. Their words echoed in our minds as we considered our next move.

They told us they needed more time, as if time were a commodity we could simply add to our rations. Indeed, the elements require us to tread a delicate line between moving forward and ensuring we don’t risk frostbite in the merciless cold. They estimated that they needed an additional five hours. It’s a sobering reminder that our bodies are not machines; they do not produce heat with the same efficiency at hour 20 as they do at hour 1. It’s a grueling prospect to face – hauling our sleds up another 2,000 feet and setting up camp yet again.

We’re pushing against our physical and mental limits, gambling on the hope that we’ll still have enough energy for an arduous 15-hour push the following day. Every day spent on this mountain is another page in our understanding of its unforgiving nature. The mountain is a leviathan – formidable, unyielding, relentless. Every small victory against it makes us understand why so few triumph over its peak.

The mountain is testing us, but we hold our heads high. The harder the struggle, the more glorious the triumph, they say. It’s a trial of our spirit, our resolve, and our sheer human will. And we’re prepared to fight every step of the way. This mountain may be a monster, but we are warriors. Every setback is a setup for an even greater comeback. We will endure, we will fight, and we will conquer.

May 31 Update

A wave of relief washed over us upon hearing that Ryan is in good hands. He’s at the hospital, and despite the pain in his fingers and feet, it’s a promising sign. It signifies healing. The Canadian healthcare system has some exclusive treatments for frostbite not available in the US. That’s a silver lining we’re holding on to.

The sun paints the snow-capped mountain in gold at 10 am, and we plan our day around this. We make use of the morning light to pack up, which is no small task. It takes a good few hours to sort our gear, dismantle our current camp, and load our sleds for the journey ahead.

In the wilderness, time is fluid. There are no deadlines, only the rhythm of nature, the rise and fall of the sun. But even as we operate on “mountain time,” every minute counts. We’re preparing ourselves to move higher up this monster of a mountain, closer to the summit.

The prospect of hauling our equipment and essentials up another 2k feet is daunting. But it’s a necessary step. It’s not just about reaching the top; it’s about increasing our chances of success. We aim to set up our next camp before exhaustion creeps in.

Setting up our makeshift camp 4 was a monumental task today. We pushed our bodies to the limit, pulling the laden sled up against harsh winds. It felt as challenging as hauling my 10-year-old twins up the slopes at our local ski resort. We worked until the curtain of visibility descended, marking an end to our labor for the day.

Once the tent was up, we turned our attention to repacking gear for tomorrow’s summit push. It’s a careful process, figuring out what’s necessary and what’s a burden. As we sorted through our stuff, the wind continued to howl outside, a relentless reminder of the wild environment we’re in.

The solar panel let us down today, failing to charge adequately. It has hampered our ability to communicate, leaving us somewhat cut off from the rest of the world. Out here, every small tool and gadget plays a significant role in our survival and morale.

As nightfall encroached, we awaited the slow process of snow melting for our dinner. The little rituals of camp life – like preparing meals and securing our gear – provide a comforting structure in the heart of this chaotic mountain.

It’s a harsh reality to face: our actions today might have improved our chances of reaching the summit, but it’s still uncertain. There’s a lot to conquer ahead of us and a tough climb back to this spot at the end.

The weather remains our most unpredictable adversary. We’re at the mercy of nature out here, hoping for a bit of luck and a break in the storm. We’re not asking for much, just a few hours of stable weather to help us progress. Please keep us in your prayers as we hunker down for the night, preparing our minds and bodies for what promises to be an eventful day tomorrow.

As I write this, I can’t help but reflect on how our situation on this mountain mirrors life’s ups and downs. We’ve faced severe storms, experienced unbearable cold, and witnessed a teammate’s painful exit. Despite all this, we keep moving forward, learning, adapting, and persisting. The journey isn’t over, and we’re ready for what lies ahead.

As the first hints of dawn streak across the stark mountain landscape, we awake with a start. We’ve planned for an 8 am kick-off for our most significant challenge yet. Every fiber of our beings reverberates with the profound reality: we are about to attempt the summit.

The cold is bone-chilling, a brutal reminder of the harsh conditions we’re up against. Yet, in the midst of this freezing wilderness, the emerging sun begins to paint the sky with hues of hope. Its warming rays, although distant, seem to cheer us on, bolstering our resolve.

Out here, the only sounds are the crunching of our boots on the compacted snow and the heavy rhythm of our breathing, echoing in the eerie silence. The stark realization is overwhelming: we are the only two souls on this vast mountain. It’s a poignant moment, amplifying the magnitude of our journey.

A cocktail of emotions churns inside me. Anticipation, apprehension, excitement, and a profound sense of purpose. These feelings are as palpable as the icy wind against my skin. Today, we don’t just confront the physical ascent but also the climb within, an internal summit of resolve and resilience.

As we shoulder our packs, and steel our spirits for the ascent, the mountain stands majestically in front of us. A silent sentinel awaiting our journey upward. We pause, drinking in the ethereal view, acknowledging the challenge that lies ahead.

Then, with a nod to each other, we take the first steps of our summit attempt. It’s time to test the limits of our endurance, our courage, and our willpower. And so, the ultimate climb begins.

1:15pm:

The summit, once an abstract goal in the distance, has now crystallized into a tangible point within our reach. Just a few more hours, a few more labored breaths, and a few more steps through this unyielding ice, and we will stand at the pinnacle of our journey.

The feeling is surreal. We’ve been battling the elements, pushing past exhaustion, wrestling with self-doubt, and here we are, on the brink of achieving what once seemed impossible. Our bodies ache, our lungs plead for more oxygen, yet a profound sense of accomplishment fuels our spirits. We are still standing, still striving, still advancing towards our goal.

We take a pause, a respite amidst the unrelenting ascension. It’s time to refuel our bodies, to savor a fleeting moment of rest. As we huddle together against the biting wind, breaking open our ration packs, the silence is heavy with anticipation.

We chew slowly, mindful of the food’s precious energy content, all while keeping our eyes fixed on the path that lies ahead. It’s a daunting sight, the terrain harsh and inhospitable. But every mountain climber knows that the most challenging section often precedes the summit. And so, we mentally brace ourselves, preparing for the grueling struggle that awaits.

The pause is over too soon, and it’s time to march on. We dust off the snow, tighten our grip on our equipment, and exchange a glance that speaks volumes. This is it. The final push. We can only hope that our bodies will hold up, that the weather will stay clear, and that our tenacity will see us through.

As we take our first steps into the next, and most demanding, section of our climb, we do so with a determination forged in the fires of adversity. The summit beckons, and we will answer its call.

3:28pm:

We did it. The summit. The seemingly insurmountable peak that had loomed over us, both physically and metaphorically, for days on end. It’s beneath our frostbitten feet now. We are standing at the apex of our journey, the pinnacle of this monolith of ice and rock. We made it.

Tears, hot and unruly, carve their way down my cheeks. They freeze almost instantly, joining the delicate frost that has claimed my eyelashes. But I barely notice the chill. The emotions welling up inside me are far too overwhelming.

Joy, relief, triumph – they surge through my veins like a roaring avalanche, leaving me breathless. The enormity of our achievement sinks in, and all I can do is cry. Cry for the pain endured, for the strength discovered, for the limits pushed, for the fears conquered.

My tears are a testament to our journey, as real and tangible as the snow beneath our feet. I let them flow freely, not even trying to hold them back. This moment deserves every tear, every shudder, every gasp of awe.

We made it. Against all odds, we made it. And as I gaze out over the seemingly endless expanse of snow and sky, I realize that this moment, this triumph, will be forever etched into the fabric of who I am.

Although elation is still coursing through our veins, we take a moment to gather ourselves before the imminent descent. There’s a saying among mountaineers, the summit is only halfway. The real test is getting back down safely. And so, our focus shifts.

6:37pm:

We’ve returned to Camp Four, hearts full and spirits high. This day, this grand venture, this victory – it wasn’t just ours, it was everyone’s. The people who’ve encouraged us, supported us, believed in us, every step, every breath, every hard-won mile – this summit was as much yours as it was ours.

Overwhelmed with gratitude, I’m reminded how astounding life can be when we open ourselves to possibility, when we let go of our fears and step boldly into the unknown. We knew there would be challenges, that we might stumble and fall, but instead of fearing the descent, we embraced it, relished in the journey and the beautiful lessons it unfolded.

Living life isn’t just about the destinations we reach, but also about the journey itself, the experiences we gather, and the moments we share. And today, we didn’t just live, we celebrated life in its most raw and profound form.

We’re tired and battered, our bodies echoing the strains of the monumental task we’ve accomplished. Tomorrow looms ahead with its own daunting challenges – another day of vertical ascents with our heavy sleds. But tonight, we bask in the glory of what we’ve achieved, the joy of this moment, and the warmth of your unwavering support.

So, thank you, to everyone who was with us on this expedition, in spirit and thought. Your presence was felt with each gust of wind, with each crunch of snow under our boots. This accomplishment belongs to all of us.

With love and gratitude, we sign off for the night, cocooned in the silence of the mountains and carrying the exhilaration of the summit in our hearts. Our adventure continues, but for now, we rest. Goodnight.

The next phase of our journey has been mapped out. The objective is to descend from Camp Four to Base Camp, an endeavor we anticipate will take around 10-12 hours, providing weather conditions remain in our favor.

The uncertainty of mountain weather looms, yet, our spirits are buoyed by the prospect of boarding a plane come Saturday morning. The idea of stepping foot back on solid ground, removed from the ceaseless snow and biting winds, is more exhilarating than I can describe.

Once we’ve touched down and been reunited with our driver, Teena, the plan is to embark on a 2 1/2 hour drive to White Horse. Our first task, once we’ve safely navigated the drive, will be to take Ryan out for a well-deserved dinner. His endurance and spirit, even in the face of adversity, have been inspirations throughout this expedition.

The night will be spent in the comforting confines of a hotel room – a stark contrast to the wind-whipped tents we’ve called home these past few weeks. Decisions on our next steps will be made based on Ryan’s needs and overall condition. We remain hopeful that he is healing well and won’t require further immediate medical intervention.

The idea of returning home is incredibly exciting, even if tinged with the fatigue of the past days. Each challenging step, each moment of uncertainty, every surge of triumph – these are the experiences that have shaped us throughout this expedition. As we prepare for the final leg of this journey, we carry these moments with us, reminders of all that we have accomplished together.

The adventure continues and we march on, hearts filled with anticipation.

xoxo Jenn

The journey down the mountain felt as immense as the ascent, with gear we had left at camps looming like extra peaks to overcome. The first challenge was Camp 4. We had to muster the strength to carry all our gear over the pass again, a day after our gargantuan summit push. By the time we reached Camp 3, we added Ryan’s gear to our pile. The result: Todd burdened with two sleds and me with one heavier than preferred.

The crevasse field that could have been a treacherous labyrinth was made manageable by the cooperative weather. With clear visibility, we charted our way through. The steep hill between Camps 3 and 2 was a test of nerves and skill. I side-slipped down the hill to guide the sleds, while Todd worked from above, relieving them of their weight.

Camp 2 greeted us with our tent buried in snow. An hour of arduous digging and our advanced base camp was cleared. We then faced the onerous task of packing up our gear, which inflated my sled to over 100lbs. We were, however, determined to leave no trace behind, adhering steadfastly to our mountain ethic.

Ropes were tethered to the sleds to curtail their speed. Helpful on steep sections, these ropes were confounding in the flat terrains, feeling like cruel constraints.

Beyond Camp 1, we encountered a group from the Czech Republic. Their fresh faces, eager at the start of their journey, juxtaposed with our weary, shower-deprived ones. We swapped stories, took photos, and continued our journey.

Todd reached Base Camp in record time, as we were hoping to hasten our unreliable plane pickup. The arrival of the plane and our subsequent drive to Haines Junction felt surreal. The local pub, despite having its grill closed, served us appetizers. We were so used to dehydrated meals, that even this felt like a feast. However, the real surprise came from a table of hockey players who not only offered us their burgers but celebrated our feat with rounds of shots and generously covered our meal. Their random act of kindness is etched in my memory as a highlight of this adventure.

Our goal now is to get back to Whitehorse to see Ryan and then embark on the journey home to our loved ones.

This adventure was truly one for the record books on so many levels. I’m grateful for the support and companionship that all of you provided. We climbed together, shared experiences, and found strength in unity.

Till our next adventure,

xoxoxo, Jenn.