|
|
 |

back to main ::
| REPORTS 2008 |
White Princess - April 25-27, 2008:
Roster: Ty, Ariel, Amy, Nick, Cody, Isaac, Johnny, Matt
Two trucks rolled out of Fairbanks shortly after 6:00AM under a grey sky and early morning flurries. After the usual stop in Delta and the finishing of coffee at the trailhead, the eight of us headed up Castner Creek, which remained nearly entirely still covered and frozen over, at 10:15AM. Overcast skies and a slight breeze gave us hope that the pleasant and rather solid snow conditions would make for an efficient ski in. After picking our way around the occasional uncovered band of rocks, and removing our skis at one point to scramble the rocky slope alongside one of the larger ice cliffs near the terminus, we made it onto the glacier with only limited views of the surrounding valley. While the use of wax on our climbing skins helped most with the wet snow sticking to our skins, a few struggled for a good portion of the seven miles to where we stopped at the junction of the main
Castner and M'Ladies branch. At this point the group did a beacon check,
tied into three ropes, and exited the moraine to head SE up the M'Ladies
branch toward the south side of White Princess. Visibility worsened and we
were welcomed with a wet, strong and gusting wind blowing directing in our
faces. With white out conditions, we stuck to the rocks of the left side
moraine for depth perception and made our way slowly but steadily up the
glacier. Near 6:00PM we decided that digging into the north side of the
large moraine that exists at the base of the glaciated west side of White Princess would provide for our best protection from the SE winds. After establishing our camp, all settled in for an evening of hydration and spindrift management. Pessimism (and deep routed jealously over who had dug
the best tent site) lingered as the winds continued throughout the night.
The 5:00 am wake-up amounted to little as one could barely see the surrounding slopes. The winds had died but visibility remained poor. Eight inches of fresh snow blanketed the glacier below. Talk of what-to-do didn't cross tent walls until after 7:00AM. After a round of less than positive assessments, the group consensus seemed to be that it would be best to lose elevation and head for home. However, when the morning sun appearing through the clouds outlined the upper slopes of White Princess' SW ridge and glimpses of the summit cone reached our eyes, we easily convinced ourselves to give it a shot.
The three rope teams skied down onto the glacier and headed for the SW ridge just after 10:00AM. We unroped at the start of the ridge, ascended the first couple hundred feet and moved west across the snow field in order to gain the more manageable SSW ridge. The whoomping noises beneath caused little concern as we were able to gain the ridge without disturbing or crossing beneath any dangerous slopes. As a group, we steadily made our way to 7700 feet where we decided to rope up for the rest of the climb and to negotiate a short step in the ridge. The weather was not improving. The summit lingered above us, barely visible. With a group-decided turn around time of 7:00PM, and based on our forecasted slow progress on the upper stretches of the climb, we decided at 6:00PM to turn around. Our high point was 8800 feet, beyond the junction of the SW and SSW ridges. We returned to camp in calm conditions just before 10:00PM. The skis opened up briefly to provide nice views of Silvertip; however the group was not upset that White Princess remained hidden in the clouds.
We broke camp early Sunday morning under mostly blue skies and headed for a smooth roped-up ski down the center of the M'Ladies branch glacier. Temperatures in the low forties meant single layers and a chance to enjoy the sunny Spring weather in the Deltas. Tracks of the other AAC group (led by Max) that headed for the Thayer hut the previous day could be seen crossing the glacier and ascending the steep slope toward the hut's bench in the mountain. After unroping at the moraine of the main Castner branch, and some sporting their Sunday finest shirt, we skied out as a group - some with skins, some without. The snow remained intact and we made it in acceptable time back to the trucks by 2:30PM. With clear beautiful views of Blackcap, White Princess, and the surrounding peaks, we all agreed it was a fine trip despite scheduling our summit attempt for the wrong day. With burgers on our minds we headed for the Delta steakhouse and passed a couple of tasty-looking caribou that lingered along the highway just north of Donnelly Dome.
Lessons learned: If you're going to proceed in bad but manageable weather, you might as well proceed in bad but manageable weather as early as possible. I-Pods have no place near avalanche terrain or on a rope. If your tent partner goes to the trouble of offering you ear plugs from a fancy little sleep-well kit, it is an offer worth considering.
---
Matt Druckenmiller
Geophysical Institute
University of Alaska Fairbanks Office: 104B-WRRB
Phone: 907-474-1156
|
We managed to eek out success on the Item Peak club trip. 12 people signed up but only 5 (Steve Jewett, Ty Humphreys, Amy Breen, Jonny Mendez, and I) made it down to Trims Creek. Getting up the creek was a mess. Open water forced us up into the alders in several spots. Someone commented that Trims Creek needs a trim as we wallowed through deep snow carrying our skis with packs hanging up in the brush. Somehow managed to keep our boots dry.
It was windy where cold air was spilling over from the Jarvis Glacier but we skied out of the wind zone to camp up the first rise of the glacier moraine with no wind. After a quiet night, except for one person's snoring, we got up at 6 AM and skied on up the glacier. Last years route on the left edge of the glacier appeared more loaded so headed to the right side on the theory that the NW winds that had been hitting the range would have worked this slope. A pit confirmed a solid snow pack and off went our strong man and woman Ty and Amy cramponing up the 40 degree slope to a charming ridge with glaciers on both sides and nice views from Institute to Black Cap.
As we approached the summit some big cracks were crossed and the common Item
discussion of "which bump is highest" ensued. A wind from the S had come up and was tearing away at the four rim covered summits. We crawled up the S summit with ropes flying in an arch out over Item's N face. As soon as the last person tagged the top we headed back down.
Bad weather was on the way in with Moffit to Shand disappearing into the forming clouds. Packed quickly and with skins on made good time back down Trims Creek to find truck windows intact. Great group of people and pure luck with the weather made for a fantastic trip.
Stan Justice |
Institute: 4-6 April 2008
Roster: Chad Diesinger, Laura LeBlanc, Frank Olive, Christie Haupert,
Jason Stuckey, Jeff Carpenter, Isabelle Larocque, Kaarle Strailey,
Johnny Mendez, and Ariel Bleicher
After the newly customary beacon check in the UAF parking lot, the sleepy group departed for the Deltas, already dreaming of coffee and pastries at the Delta IGA. Snow flurries greeted us at Miller Creek where we left the cars. We did a quick beacon 'gate' check as we headed up the creek (Thanks for being the 'gate' Chad). The day began with a nice ski up the creek (still well frozen) and then up the Canwell. The clouds parted and the group worked on their tan while skinning up the medial moraine. Layers and miles were both shed in pleasing fashion. All participants equipment was in good working order and we proceeded at a leisurely pace. We regrouped and roped up (w/our pre-established teams) once we were near the base of Institute to cross the main branch of the Canwell on the way to camp.
Recognizing our desired camp location was still on the glacier, Frank and Chad made a quick and thorough probing of the site to ensure that there were no crevasses. We pitched tents amidst howling gusts and approaching storm clouds. P. Stuckey (you'll have to ask him what the P stands for) built a wonderful rustic kitchen and postergirl Christie dug a premium latrine. Three of the more industrious of our team put in a few hours constructing a stout snow cave.
The winds tapered off as the evening drew on and we enjoyed good food and good company in the sheltered kitchen. We ate in almost potluck style, although one appetite consumed away promises of leftovers (sorry j.s.). With full bellies and stiffening legs, we crawled into our tents, knowing the 5am wakeup would come only too soon.
We awoke to promising weather. The summit had still not emerged from the cloud that would enshroud it for the weekend, but the winds were calm and the visibility was good. Frank, Laura, and Jeff skinned out of camp early to dig a snowpit on the lower slopes of the route to assess the avalanche hazard. The pit revealed a typical Delta snow pack: ~2 feet of new snow on top of 2-3 feet of large, consolidated facets. A compression test revealed several week layers within the new snow. A modified Ruschblock test (AK block) produced easy failures on two layers in the new snow and a more resistant failure at the new snow/old snow (faceted) boundary. Chad reported 'whoomphing' noises (a red-flag of weak layers) as he and his ropeteam bootpacked up the slopes toward the snowpit. With these results, it was decided that the snowpack was not safe for travel on the given route. The wind-loaded upper slopes would be unavoidable and unsafe. Each rope team independently chose to abandon the route and return to camp. The skiers of the group revelled in a few nice turns, a quick skin up, and another set of powder turns before retreating. We had a nice surprise as Keelan and Graham pulled in on their four-stroke chariot. After hearing the snow report and hanging out for some social time, they departed with talk of sweet turns in Girdwood.
All but three opted to head back down the Canwell to the calling of Alaskan Steakhouse burgers. The weather window held for most of the ski out before slamming us with another snowstorm. The snowcave dwellers that stayed behind spent the afternoon exploring the upper stretches of the Canwell. They also got to play a fun game of 'find the snowcave in the whiteout'. Their extended stay allowed them to witness the evolving snowpack instability. The campers reported hearing large avalanches on the upper slopes of Institute (no visual due to storm conditions).
It is always a difficult decision to back off of a route, especially after coming so far. However, the mountains will always be here, and if buried, you may not. The reports of the natural activity confirmed that we had made the right choice.
Laura LeBlanc
PhD Student, Glaciology
Geophysical Institute
University of Alaska Fairbanks
907-474-1896 |
Silvertip -- March 29-30, 2008
Roster: Chad, Erin, Eamon, Anja, Ty, Mark, Jason, Laura, Steve, Ken, Ariel, Chris, Kaarle, Christie, Vaughn, with Cody, Mike, Andrew, Nick, and Keelan and Gram.
Saturday started with a beacon check in the parking lot at UAF, and then proceeded with excellent snow conditions, clear skies and brilliant sun on Michael Creek. The group size started as 19, but we ran into Keelan and Gram at the trailhead making us 21. Despite the group size, we moved swiftly up the creek, stopping along a high bank for a sunny snack break around noon. We saw no signs of recent avy debris along the steep walled section of the creek. Due to gear malfunction one member turned back about halfway up the creek, but managed to make it back to Fairbanks safely. At the headwall to the Jarvis, we found a protected area at the base of a rocky outcropping and practiced making rice patty fields, setting up a 3-teir system for the tents. Digging and snow wall construction took up much of the afternoon. Keelan and Jason took advantage of the early evening light and snowy slopes and showed off their textbook backcountry ski technique (ie., dug a snow pit and skied down one at a time with stops along the way to watch each other -- great job guys!). Dinner was leisurely as the group mingled from tent to tent and/or hung out in the group kitchen section of our compound. Rope teams were devised and a 500a wake up was agreed upon. The group snuggled into sleeping bags around sunset with a pale yellow/blue sky and light wind.
Sunday, we awoke to starry skies that quickly became overcast with increasing wind. With a final beacon check, we cramponed up the headwall around 730a. Chad kicked in steps up the headwall and we easily descended down the other side (note: if you can't go with Brad Stone on a trip, go with Chad -- as he too will always break trail!). We could see most of the mtn, but a big lenticular cloud loomed over its silvery tip as we reached the apex of the headwall. Teams roped up and we made our way across the blustery Jarvis glacier. It was reported that the winds blew so strong even our big burly leader, Vaughn, was knocked sideways! At the base of the mountain the group stood around in screaming winds deciding how to proceed. After much discussion it was agreed that the group would go back. With no summit attempt being possible and with a large group size, we decided the best idea would be to retreat to the tents and head for home. Keelan, Gram and Jason decided to break away from the group and go for the top (being a small quick group, they did end up making it two-thirds of the way up before turning around due to time). Winds blew us back across the Jarvis and we scrambled back up and over the headwall and leisurely packed up the compound. The ski out the creek was great fun. We had two folks test out the water. One member went head first into the creek with no one around to help out. After floundering, he managed to self-arrest and got himself back to the warmth of the truck quickly. No damage was done except for a possible water logged beacon and camera. The other swimmer was promptly rescued, both victim and rescuer suffering mostly from wet feet. The drive back to Delta was sunny on the north side of the range, although the rear-view mirror showed Silvertip shrouded in clouds, and left us inspired to get back down another day and try again.
--
Christie Haupert |
Triangle: March 22-23, 2008
Roster: Brad, Christie, Ellen, Jason, Jeff, Isabelle, Issac
The moral of this story is "you'll never know unless you try." Seven of us packed into two vehicles and with early morning moonlight headed for the Deltas. Weather forecast: cloudy skies and chance of snow all weekend (never believe the weather forecast). We set out up Casnter Creek around 10:30am with high overcast skies, allowing for views of Old Snowy, Black Cap and White Princess. Six were on skis, one on a spilt-board, with three folks sharing a communal sled. The trek up the Castner was quick work for most. The sled hauling proved to be more of a hindrance than a help and made for slower travel. A trail had been blazed through much of the fresh few inches of snow by back-country powder hounds the following day. We saw some of their tracks high up on the south facing slopes. The sun poked out a few times during the day and sweat poured.
The original intention was to head up the M'Laides branch and attack the mountain from the windswept east facing slopes. However, at the intersection of the Castner and M'Laides Glaciers, Brad and I wandered over to the north facing slope to test out the stability. With a group split because of slow sled travel, we decided if the north face was stable, we could avoid further glacier travel and camp out at the corner. After testing the slope and determining it was stable, Brad kicked steps in about a quarter of the way up and packed down some sugary snow at base of a rocky band. This would let it set up over night and expedite travel in the morning. It was decided, we would attack from the north aspect, carry our skis and hope for more "skinnable" snow up higher. Camp was established; thanks to Jason's excellent snow wall skills we were protected from any evening winds (of which there were few).
The 5 am wake-up call was greeted by clear starry skies. After a beacon check around sunrise, we were on our way. Making quick work of the first slope, we skied around to the east facing aspect and determined it looked good. Brad continued in the lead (note: go on trips with Brad -- he will always break trail and make your life way easier!) and criss-crossed up the slope. With care taken to space out properly to avoid traffic jams on the "red-light" slopes, we headed up. Even though the snowpack seemed stable, avalanches were high on some of our minds and we tried to travel on the slopes smartly. With such a large group, this made travel slower, but definitely safer. We continued to skin up for 75% of the ridge. The group was already beginning to salivate at the turns they were going to make on the way down. In a wind carved area next to some tall rocks, we dropped the skis, donned crampons and followed Brad up the remaining way with a wind blowing us sideways. The summit was reached by all but one. Pictures and moments to bask in the ever present sunshine and clear views of Silvertip and the Hayes Range were enjoyed. With such great weather we took our time descending back to the skis.
The stellar back country ski conditions made for an enjoyable decent. Fresh powder on top of well bonded snow made for textbook turns (and a few face plants)! Camp was quickly packed up and the ski out the Castner was enjoyed -- despite the inevitable rock hopping lower on the glacier. Once again the sled made travel a bit slower and only intensified the hunger for the Alaska Steakhouse for those waiting patiently back at the cars. Once all returned to the cars we made a quick trip to the steakhouse -- in time for the final pizzas of the night.
Despite a weather forecast that called for lousy conditions and previous warnings of instability on north facing aspects, we were happily reminded that you never know what you're going to get unless you just get out there and test it out. We also learned that sleds are not the most ideal method for carrying gear on the Castner. Keeping it on your back is by far the way to go.
--
Christie Haupert |
Our trip began with a great twilight drive saturday morning to McCallum Creek. Our small AAC group met up with 3 local Fairbanks climbers (one with a summit of McCallum) and headed up McCallum Creek. The first 3/4 mile was quick, finding the road packed with snowmachine tracks. At the small AT&T gate and bridge, we headed back onto the creek finding snow between 3 to 10 inches deep for the fearless trail breaker to overcome. As the creek narrowed into the gully and up into the McCallum Glacier basin, the snow was wind packed and easier for travel. The day was slightly above zero, and turned overcast by
mid-afternoon, limiting visibility to around 1 mile. We had a few
mishaps with bindings and skins on the way, cutting away at our day.
However, the groups intuition, our bailing wire, keyring, duct-tape
combo prevailed; making our ascent to base camp around 7 hours. We made
base camp at the base of the south ridge. We arose with the sun breaking the horizon and hardly a cloud in the sky. A small breeze kept us cool as the sun softened the snow and view pushed us to reach the top. Leaving base camp, around 9:30 we made the the McCallum summit (6700ft) in just under two hours. We enjoyed views of Institute Peak, to Mount Hayes, to all the way down to the Wrangell-St. Elias National Park on the horizon with Mount Blackburn standing tall. We descended after spending about a half hour soaking in the sun, the view and snapping some photos. We enjoyed a few ski turns on the way out, taking about 2 hours back to the car, all safe and in one piece around 3:30. We all filled our empty stomachs at the Delta Buffalo Diner with nothing less than a Jumbo Buffalo Burger, Buffalo fries, and some with multiple chocolate shakes, thanks to Ashley.
Hope to see you on the mountain,
Andrew Croan |
WHAT HAPPENED:
In the early afternoon, Saturday March 1, a group of 17 people (15 class members, co-leader Ty Humphrey, and me) arrived on skis and snowshoes in an area with ice cliffs for practicing crevasse rescue in the lower section of the Castner Glacier. I arrived first and found a suitable ice cliff. This ice cliff was located underneath a moraine slope of the length of about 100 feet and the angle of about 35 degrees. The snow on the slope was about thigh-deep, mainly sugar snow with a thin slab on top of that.
Being accustomed to the false idea that the moraine slopes on the Castner Glacier are not long enough to accumulate sufficient amount of snow that could create an avalanche of a concerning magnitude, we neglected to give the situation a deeper thought and started setting up anchors at the upper edge of the slope without testing the snow on the slope for stability. The anchors ("dead men" made from skis) were set up in a lower angle (~25 degrees) section of the slope close to the upper edge of the slope and combined with an anchor formed by a rope going around a big rock in a flat area above the slope’s edge.
I was the first one to rappel down the slope and down the ice cliff. I was just about to unclip from the rope when I heard an avalanche. First, I thought the avalanche was on one of the distant mountain slopes, but it didn’t take me too long to figure out that it was actually on the slope above me and coming right on me. Even though I tried to swim on top of the avalanche, my feet got caught in the packed snow and I got partly buried, with my head, hands, and part of my chest sticking out after the snow movement completely stopped. The only other person affected by the avalanche was Eamon. He was at the upper edge of it when the snow came loose and he ended up riding down with it. After flying down the ice cliff, he supposedly had a relatively soft landing on top of the avalanche debris. Soon after that, Eamon was delivered a shovel and he dug me out from the snow. Nobody was hurt.
Looking at the slope above the ice cliff, it was now pretty much free of snow up to the upper edge of the steep slope section.

It ended right below the anchors that were in the lower angle section. The surface was ice and small rocks. The avalanche was most likely triggered by our activity at the upper edge of the steep slope section.
After a short discussion with the class about the mistakes we made, we redid most of the anchors; we placed some of them into the flat area above the slope’s edge and made ice-screw anchors on the slope, which now was free of snow and allowed us to find rock-free areas for ice screws. The slope clear of snow and the ice cliff underneath were now safe to practice crevasse rescue. The rest of the course went normally.
WHAT WERE THE MISTAKES:
My mistake was acting automatically (choosing a similar slope and ice cliff as the last year and the year before) and not using enough thought in action. I should have initiated a snow stability test. Especially since this was a class, we should have spent a good amount of time on analyzing the conditions (pit, layers, compression test, angle estimate, etc.) and reviewed the students’ avalanche knowledge.
The mistake of others was not-thinking for themselves and relying on my thinking. They should have questioned whether what we were doing was safe. Nobody voiced any concern.
HOW DO WE LEARN FROM THAT:
Prevent acting automatically. Think of what you are doing.
Be self-sufficient; think for yourself and don’t rely on thoughts of others. Safety is everyone’s responsibility.
Even relatively short moraine slopes can pose an avalanche danger. Test the slopes before you use them
SHOULD WE CARRY BEACONS ON THE CASTNER CREVASSE RESCUE COURSES?
One of the questions asked by students at the planning meeting before the trip was whether they should have beacons. My answer was that they don’t need beacons because we won’t be in an avalanche prone area. I encouraged them to have shovels and probes, though (even though at that time, I mainly meant it for camping and testing crevasses).
Next time, I still wouldn’t require the participants to have beacons, but I would at least recommend them. I think most of the years, we will be able to eliminate avalanche danger by proper selection of ice cliffs to practice on. But good cliffs are scarce and it can sometimes happen that the only suitable ice cliff will have an avalanche slope above it. Beacons could be useful in that situation. I still don’t see them as a necessity, though, because we are talking about small avalanches and chances are high that people won’t get completely buried and if they do, chances are high that even without beacons they will be quickly found, given the number of people around and given the relatively small area covered by the avalanche.
--
Tomas Marsik |
top |
|

|