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2008
Mugs Stump Award Winners:
McGee/White—Southeast
Rib, Mt. Logan
 Located
deep within Kluane National Park in the remote southwest
tip of the Yukon Territories lays the largest land mass in
the world, the mighty Mount Logan. The grandness of this
beautiful peak can only be understood from seeing it with
your own eyes. Most of its ridges and glaciers gain more
than 10,000 feet of vertical relief from one of the sprawling
icefalls it is surrounded by. It stretches over 40 km from
the east to west and 30 km from north to south. The vast
summit plateau is 20 km wide and all above 5000 meters, with
over 7 summits above this elevation. The mountain is also located less than
50 km from the Alaskan gulf so it is constantly being raked by storms from
the north Pacific. All of these attributes make this mountain truly a beast
to climb.
At
the end of May, Brad White and I started our journey north
from Whistler towards the Yukon Territory and our goal,
adventure. We were hoping to catch some good weather and
be able to climb a new route on Logan’s neighboring
peak, Mount McArthur, to acclimatize. We then hoped move
on to our main objective, the massive unclimbed South Face
of Mount Logan. Logan’s South Face is a terribly inhospitable
place. Three main ridges stretch out from the summit plateau
like a giant octopus stretching to grab its prey. These great
ridges drop off the summit plateau for more than 13,000 feet
to gain the Seward Glacier and some extend for over 10 km
in length. Between these ridges lie great expanses of large
cliffs, icefalls, ice couloirs and seracs. We hoped to be
able to piece together a climbing route on the relatively
safe-looking eastern side on this face.
The drive to Kluane Lake, our staging area to fly into
the park, went quickly. Or shall I say as quickly as the
usual overloaded, last minute shopping, coffee fueled non-stop
drive can be. Within a day and half we were pulling into
the airstrip of Kluane Lake and the Icefield Discovery headquarters.
We would get to know this place very well.
 Upon arrival the weather looked great, blue sky as far
as the eye could see and only a light breeze. However after
talking to the pilot and the rest of the people waiting on
the airstrip we learned that the weather was quite different
a 130 km away at the mountain. Twelve teams were on the backside
of the mountain and had just called for a pick up due to
continued bad weather on the peak. The pilot, Donjeck, had
just made an attempt to get the first group but had turned
around due to the wind and weather.
Over
the next 10 days we both slowly lost our minds. We had
the regular airstrip waiting game down to a science. Wake
up early to pack up camp and fly in. Find out that it doesn’t look good this morning, but you “never
know it might work at noon, so don’t go anywhere”.
At noon we would go through the same song and dance and then
the same at dinner. Soon we had unpacked, reorganized, gone
through gear and repacked more times that we could remember.
We even got to pack our gear into the plane once in a while
and make a short attempt at reaching the mountain.
After
10 days of living “on the strip” and
after way too many, push up, sit up and running sessions
we were ready to call it a good car camping trip when the
pilots suggested trying again. So we crammed our gear into
the plane and took off for what we assumed would be our last
attempt at reaching the mountain before we put our tails
between our legs and drove back home.
 To our surprise the weather actually looked better the further
we flew into the icefields. Soon we were being treated to
amazing views of glaciers that stretched as far as the eye
could see. Massive peaks jutted out from these rivers of
ice and reach high above the clouds. Within an hour we were
bouncing our way down the glacier and sliding to a stop below
the majestic East Ridge of Logan. For the rest of the day
we made base camp and Donjeck flew out most of the stir crazy
climbers who had been waiting to fly out as we had been waiting
to get in.
When we were first left alone on this side of the mountain
we had noticed that the peaks around us definitely looked
different that we had hoped. In all the photos we had from
our research of the area, Mount McArthur was draped in long
sheets of ice and snow. Now the whole face we had hoped to
climb a new ice route on was a mix of dirty snow and rock.
With our shortened time in the area and the lack of any ice
on McArthur we decided to make an acclimatization climb of
the classic East Ridge instead, then move onto the South
Face.
The next morning we found ourselves skiing up the glacier
with overnight packs and big grins on our faces. We soon
were realizing the scale of the peaks around us. For hours
you could ski in one direction with little change in view
and little gain on your objective. It felt as if you were
on a treadmill. The mountains were so much bigger than they
looked and we were begging to realize the scale of the climbs
around us. Within a few hours we were stashing our skis and
climbing up onto the ridge.
 Like
the rest of the ridges around us the East Ridge is a classic.
Unbroken for over 10,000 feet it dives like the spine of
the mountain into a deep remote cirque surrounded by massive
ice seracs and avalanches. Once on the route you are safe
from the surrounding show of power. One obstacle guards
the lower stretches of the ridge. To gain access to the
ridge you must climb a short 300-meter south-facing steep
snow slope. It seems like a trivial slope, however due to
its elevation and exposure it represents the crux of the
route to many parties and it was no different to us. This
should have taken us no longer than an hour to ascend, however
we were trapped for three hours swimming up hill like salmon.
The snow was a terrible mess of facets, mush and water. We
would make good progress for a few minutes and then sink
to the bottom of the winter snow pack. Feet on the rocks
below and chest just barely out of the snow. Travel was near
impossible and the constant fear of the slope avalanching
was a real concern. Soon we ditched out packs and swam up
to a stance and hauled our packs up. Once on the ridge we
made good time and were camped 1/3 of the way up the ridge
by dinnertime.
The
next day the weather looked a bit threatening but there
was no way we were going to sit around after all that time “car
camping” so we headed up the ridge instead. Throughout
the day we were treated to spectacular view and interesting
climbing along the knife-edge ridgeline. By late in the afternoon
we were camped at the summit plateau from were we would make
our push for the top.
 Early
the next morning we were lucky to find that the clouds
that had developed the night before had burned off and
that it appeared that we were acclimatizing well. Soon
we were gasping for air, sprinting along the plateau while
making for the summit. Other than the collapse of an unseen
snow bridge and the ensuing flight of Brad into the depth
of a crevasse, the trip to the summit was almost uneventful.
We both grunted along the summit ridge feeling the affects
of a rapid ascent and little acclimatization but soon we
were being treated to one of the best views in the world.
All around us was a sea of ice and peaks. By late afternoon
we were back at the tent eating the rest of our food. The
next morning we awoke to a bit of fresh snow and cloudy
skies but by late afternoon we had regained our skis and
were heading back towards base camp.
During
a few rest days the weather continued to get rapidly warmer.
The peaks around us kept on shedding their coat of winter
snow and ice. On the first cooler day we packed up some
day packs and decided to ski 20 km over to the south side
of the mountain to take a look at our proposed route. Throughout
the day the temperatures rapidly climbed and we now felt
as if we were on a treadmill in the Sahara. By noon we
were positioned in front of the wall and made a mini camp
were we could observe the wall for the next few hours. Throughout
the rest of the day we were treated to the show of the mountains
from avalanches, serac and rock falls and general mayhem.
We were starting to realize that that weather was having
a terrible effect on this side of the mountain. Through the
binoculars we could also see massive amounts of debris at
the base of the route and major seracs above. With all these
facts pilling up together we decided to give up on our attempt
on the South Face and look at the peaks surrounding our base
camp for other possibilities.
 Unfortunately for us upon arriving back at camp the weather
deteriorated again and we were treated to a beautiful six-day
storm. During this storm the feezing level rose to over 4000m
with constant precipitation. Needless to say when a 12-hour
weather window arrived and the forecast for more bad weather
came in we called for a pick up and made our way back to
Kluane Lake. As it turned out we had been very lucky in our
ascent of the east ridge as the weather had been so bad out
on the airstrip that some of the parties that had wanted
to fly out when we arrived on the mountain had been unable
to get out and had been trapped on the mountain the whole
time we had been climbing.
The
Saint Elias Mountains and Kluane national park are truly
awe-inspiring. I would have to suggest to any climber,
skier or adventurer to visit these mountains, as they truly
are some of the most beautiful mountains in the world if …..you
ever get in to see them.
Brad and I would both like to thank the Mug Stump Award
for making this trip possible. Even though we accomplished
few of our planned objectives we feel the trip was a success
in that we had our eyes opened to the mountains and people
of the Yukon. Both of which are one of a kind.
Thanks,
Craig McGee and Brad White.
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