The Smell of Adventure

I'm not too fond of the smell of airports. Nevertheless, it's the scent of duty-free that always stands for adventure. I feel happy when I realize I'm just passing through the Anchorage airport. Here, as Gary says, it has "a lot of land, but not many people." Alaska is not only the most sparsely populated state in the U.S. but also home to the highest peak in North America: Denali at 20,308 feet. Near the Arctic Circle, it feels taller than it is topographically. And everyone returning from there says it was freezing cold and snowing non-stop. Anyway. I'm sitting in Gary's minibus which takes us to Talkeetna. Boris sits next to me and keeps a lookout for wild animals.

The weather issue was quickly settled: we have only a short time on site, and luck must be on our side. We want to ski Cassin Ridge, an alpine climbing route with variable terrain, opened in 1961 and named after the Italian climber Riccardo Cassin. It was considered a significant first ascent and "the last and probably most difficult of all possible routes on Denali." It remains an alpine challenge – a line directly through Denali's south face. The appearance of this ridge is impressive by its size alone. The route is direct. If you don't want to unbuckle your skis exceptional snow conditions are necessary, and you would have to apply all the tricks in the book to cross those two rock bands to reach the Japanese Couloir.

I already had some doubts about the feasibility beforehand, and on-site, I realize it won't work this time. It's too warm and too dry. So we have to think of something else. As we climb from base camp to camp 1, we see: The only feasible line is to the left of the Cassin Ridge. It crosses the entire southwest face above a serac barrier, leading to the West Rib. From there we would climb back down and eventually cross the Chicken Couloir. A total of about 13,100 vertical feet to the summit. May 21. I am tied to a transport sled that carries all our supplies. We decided to climb to camp 3 and stay there for a few days to acclimatize. This part remains an unpredictable science and depends on details that are hard to calculate.

The heartbeat must settle, sleep is needed, and the breathing has to adjust. On May 25 we cross the "Football Fields," a plateau before the summit. I have yet to acclimatize fully. The descent via Orient Express is a nice reward after ten hours of climbing. Despite my aching legs the pleasure outweighs the pain. Especially because the sleeping bag and something to eat and drink are waiting below. We must slowly execute the strategy for our desired line next to Cassin Ridge. Skiing with bivouac equipment requires additional effort. The solution: Leave a tent at camp 3, descend to camp 1, pitch another tent, and then climb back up to conquer the summit over the course of two days. On May 31 we are on the move again. This time, I come acclimatized.

We reach the summit eight hours after leaving camp 3. The ascent is in the books, but the descent remains questionable. How is the snow? The traverse to West Rib? The drop-in is insane. We have to remember the key spots we saw from below. The narrow snow fields turn out to be wide couloirs; the rocks are massive walls. The snow is incredible in the first third, and we hardly believe it, but we manage to find the right line. Then comes the long traverse, and conditions turn icy, with crevasses everywhere. We analyze the situation, rope up, and secure one another. One kilometer further on, we have made it. Our descent has already taken five hours, and we allow ourselves a break between West Rib and Seattle Ramp.

The Chicken Couloir again rewards us with soft snow and no avalanche risk. That's how it should be. Before we reach the tents the crevasse labyrinth of East Fork Glacier demands our undivided attention one last time. Our new line could be called "Go Fast." What an adventure! Perhaps my most epic and, at the same time, challenging tour. Without a doubt the longest descent I have ever done in one day. 17 days after our departure from Geneva I smell the airport again. This time, however, it does not stand for adventure but for the safe return to the people I love the most.