Getting There
"Excess Baggage".
Our first battle with adversity came within SeaTac airport, where the Continental checkin clerk loudly
proclaimed "You have excess baggage!", adding "there's nothing you can do about it. It's 75$ per excess bag."
We had tried to carefully pack everything into no more than 3 bags each, but somehow, Marcus' stuff was in 4.
A quick repacking shrunk us down to 12 checked bags for the 4 of us. We got the last laugh as we checked all
our bags, a couple of which weighed 69.5LBS (the limit is 70LBS), and avoided any "excess baggage" fees.
Marcus and Dave wait for our checked bags at the Anchorage airport. Marcus
brought the rope onto the plane as carry-on, to avoid the "excess baggage" problem. With the climbing
boots we wore on our feet for the same reason, we must have looked like total climbing geeks.
Our flight took us up along the BC Coast Mountains, and then along the Fairweather Range. By the time we got to
the St Elias and Chugach, clouds covered them. On the flight, I had the aisle seat right under the control panel
for
the movie system (the movie was Air Bud IV or some crap like that - that's like, the third time I've seen an Air
Bud movie on a plane, in not very many flights). This control panel was controled by Continental's "Armpit Man",
who would stick his armpits in my face everytime the volume needed to be adjusted, or the video tape changed.
Marcus steals the Ultima Thule van.
After landing in Anchorage around midnight, two of us took a taxi to the Claus' "office" (Anchorage home) and
quickly obtained the Ultima Thule van that would be our transportation to Chitina. We paid $440 for this
transporation, but we had to drive ourselves. And run errands for the Claus's. And the "full tank" was not. No matter,
it was all an adventure.
On the way back to the airport to pick up Dave, Greg, and our huge amount of gear, Marcus got stopped by the
cops for running a red light. Well, "running" is perhaps too strong a word. "Gently moving through" is probably
better. Those tricky Anchorage double left arrows had him thinking we had a green, until I alerted him halfway
through the intersection, pointed this out, and pointed to the cop car coming the other way that was trying to
turn left across our lane. Marcus explained his way out of a ticket. Funny that Donna Claus had even
warned us about Alaska police, that they are everywhere.
After an early morning dinner at Denny's, we crash in the van at the Claus's "office" overnight, and the next
morning,
we run an errand for the Claus', picking up some boxes of bugspray at a sports wholesaler warehouse.
Red-Light-Runner-Marcus drives to Chitina.
A five hour drive across the Alaskan wilderness, with glimpses of peaks and glaciers through the clouds, brings
us to Chitina by early afternoon.
We go to the post office to pick up the Claus' mail, which should include
our stoves (which we can't fly on Continental), and learn that it's already been
picked up and brought to the airport. We ask if there were any packages, and the woman says no, just letters.
Uh-oh. Where are our stoves??? A minute later in our conversation,
she adds offhand "unless you mean boxes and stuff". Earth-to-podunkian-resident! We breathe a sigh of hesitant relief, and drive down to the airport.
The airport consists of one parked plane, about 10 or 15 cars and trucks, and a small wooden building labelled "Ultima Thule Outfitters".
It is locked. Anyway, time to wait until 5pm for our plane ride, and hope our stoves came.
Marcus and Dave at the Chitina airstrip.
After an hour or so, we find out we are able to see through the locked door, through a keyhole. Greg puts his
eye up to it, and begins to discern the contents. He scans around, and locates an oblong object. "I think it's
a ski pole". A pause. "No wait - it's a pen". Now that Greg has discerned the scale of objects in the room, he spots a
pile of boxes. Through the lowest limits of the keyhole, he spots one labelled Marcus Collins. Marcus verifies
it is his stove. Dave also spots his stove box. Whew!
Greg playing spy.
We wait for two more hours at this mosquito infested airport. We play rock throwing games, and Greg constructs
and utilizes a blow gun out of a piece of pvc tubing.
Greg fires his blow gun. Boredom breeds creativity.
Finally, at around 5:30, a plane lands, and pulls up to us. Paul Claus' dad John hops out. "You guys are early!"
We reply that we were told to be here by 5pm. He says he was told 7pm. Then, he apologizes for his flying
"After that landing, you guys probably don't want to fly with me!". His landing seemed fine to me, but the
comment he had just uttered made us nervous!
We help him unload gear from some Logan climbers who were rafting out. As we load our crap into the plane,
he exclaims: "Wow, you've got a lot of stuff!". "Paul's not going to be happy! Didn't anyone tell you about
flight weight limits?" He seems to be worried for us.
We were so far off the suggested weight limits we thought they couldn't be right! We begin to worry, and our
spirits sink a bit. We know its obvious we are Alaskan expedition newbies.
We are off, and 45 minutes later, the plane banks, and we land at an inconspicuous landing strip on the side of
the Chitina river, 100 miles from the town.
At Ultima Thule Lodge. All our crap is now loaded into a trolley, and we are just
standing around.
At the lodge, we are left alone, wondering what to do. John mentions that Paul is eating with the
recreational guests (who pay more per night at the lodge, than we do for our entire return trip from Anchorage
to Chitina to the lodge to the glacier), and will be out to greet us shortly.
A good while later, we have been sat down at a picnic table outside, and are being served pasta with what
appears to be
a venison sausage tomato sauce. It's very good. At some point during our repast, Paul steps out of the main
lodge and approaches.
After introductions, we begin a slightly awkward conversation.
We soon realize he is sizing us up - determining our experience level, asking us what kind of climbing we've
done, etc... We also soon realize he is thinking "Gumbies!". He asks if we have skis; we respond affirmatively.
He replies "You've just moved up a few notches!". (Only later to move down when he finds out two of us have brought
telemark gear). He suggests that we might want to go somewhere different (read: easier) for our first time
here. Perhaps to the Bagley Icefield, instead of the Mt Bear area. It was at this point that Dave moved us down a few
notches in Paul's eye.
"I think we saw the Bagley Icefield on the drive here" announces Dave, trying to sound like he knows what he is
talking about. I realize he is thinking about the glaciers and ice of the Chugach Range that we saw between
Glenallen and Palmer - but that wasn't the Bagley. As soon as the words are out of Dave's mouth, he realizes he
has committed a faux pas.
Paul smiles and laughs his characteristic you-are-the-greenest-newbie-gumbies-ever chuckle.
Marcus watches as Paul takes off.
So while the weather is bad, we are left to ponder the decision - Mt. Bear or Bagley Icefield? All our maps and dreams revolve around Mt Bear. Paul seemed to indicate that some of our routes - S. ridge of Bear, and N. side of the Wetterhorn - might not be totally out of our league. In the lodge the next day, still waiting for weather to clear,
we peruse stacks of photo albums, given to Paul as gifts by his buddy Reudi Homberger, for trips that they
took together. We encounter lots of pictures of Mt. Bear, the Wetterhorn, and Mt. Gunnar Naslund. Yikes! The feeling one gets when looking at these photos is one of serious objective danger. Very crevassed, big icefalls, steep, scary! Only the south ridge of Bear looks relatively straightforward. Even the
"ski" of the south side of Bear is extremely crevassed and broken by icefalls. On one of the pages, Reudi has
inscribed "Much more ice than in old Europe!"
We pass our time at the lodge playing croquet and Trivial Pursuit. Greg creates a Trivial Pursuit dynasty - he is
unstoppable. Even when it's not his turn, he always tries a guess at an answer. More often than not, he is right.
He then states: "I was right, you were wrong." It was a phrase we heard several hundred times that day, and
again throughout the trip, whenever he was right (a situation which dimished markedly in frequency once we had
left the civilized world and Trival Pursuit). Is there a Trivial Pursuit game for a Palm Pilot? Now that
would be something to take on an expedition!
Dave makes his shot, while Marcus ponders his next move.
At around 2pm on the third day at the lodge, Paul comes in and says "how soon can you guys be ready?". We are
ready half an hour later, but "in line" before us is a group of guided climbers were were going to attempt Mt Bona.
The weather is still preventing flights into Bona, but the Bagley Icefield is apparently clear. So they decide on
that. As for us, we have the choice of either still waiting out the weather for Mt Bear
(not encouraged), or going into the Bagley today. So Bagley it is. Luckily, the Bagley and its adjoining glaciers
combine to form the largest
non-polar icefield in the world, so we won't be bumping into the other party there.
Greg and I furiously packing up and reorganizing gear amidst moose antlers. Due to the pressure to ditch a lot of
our gear, Marcus ends up skimping down to the bone, while somehow, I end up at base camp with a thermarest lounger.photo by Dave Burdick
It is close to 6pm by the time we finally take off (2 flights for the Bona people, and another flight to retrieve
the rafts used by some recreational guests that afternoon). Paul guides the plane up the Chitina, and then up
a side valley, weaving around the cloud banks, finally popping into sunshine.
View south to the icefield from the plane on the way in, after popping above the clouds.
We are flying over the unnamed glacier to the west of the Baldwin Glacier.
The peak on the left in the distance is 9476. The glacier below us is at about 6000-ft. Way in the background in
the right half of the picture is probably Mt. Miller (11150-ft)
We continue to weave around
glaciated valleys and through passes (the wingtips almost touching the valley walls in places, it seems),
until he finally points out where we're going to land. A smooth landing and some taxiing bring us to our
home for the next 19 days, elevation 8000ft
Unloading our enormous amount of gear.photo by Dave Burdick
The view of the main part of the Bagley Icefield from here is spectacular, although we would become very used
to it by the end of the trip. Paul pointed out a few of the peaks around us. The prominent pointy mountain
to our east was called "Flight Path Peak". He said his feet were the only ones the summit had ever seen -
he had climbed it 15 years ago, by its rotten-looking southwest ridge. He pointed across the valley and suggested
a peak for a ski ascent. It looked steep from this side.
Our base for the next 19 days.
After he had left, we set up our 4 man tent (Himalayan hotel), and constructed snow walls, and eating areas. It was
pleasantly warm and sunny. By nightfall though, clouds had filled the valley to our west.