Many apologies for the delayed entry. Days come and go with a somewhat chaotic, yet predictable rhythm here on the glacier. Business has been slow (yet is just now starting to pick up), and Don decided that it was time to get the interns out into the back country so as not to drive each other nuts. Partnered with my best buddy, Mandy, and Bill and Don, we headed out to a local trekking path called Hatcher's Pass in hopes of mapping out a new route for clients. We intended on trekking about 10 miles through unfamiliar terrain, and over virtually untraveled routes. For clients, it would take 5 days; for us, 48 hours. The "planned" trek would take us through Lane Pass, over the Snowbird Glacier, past the Snowbird Hut and onto Bomber Hut. The following day would take us over the Bomber Glacier where a WWII plane had crashed and its remains still there. Then we would traverse down and out of Hatcher's Pass. Seemed simple enough, a pleasurable couple of days...
The beginning of the hike was smooth sailing; we punched out almost three miles in 2 hours. However, within a half hour of trekking past that, we had crossed into the realm of "too cool for clients." The first pass turned out to be a jagged ridge with loose boulders and snow. In order to access the pass we wanted, we had to drop down about 200 feet to cross loose granite boulders, slick snow cover, and sand all on a 35 degree angle. At this point I realized that this wasn't a normal "hike", and I turned to Don and asked if this was at all like mountaineering. Don, the always supportive and never condescending boss that he is, stared me in the eye and said, "You left backpacking in the parking lot."
Ok.
Well, we survived the pass, and descended onto Snowbird Glacier, and Mandy and I were thrilled to put crampons on our feet for some much needed stability. The glacier was gorgeous, and the Snowbird hut inviting. We arrived just after 7 in the pm at the hut, meaning it took us about 5 1/2 hours to move about 1.5 miles and that we didn't make it to Bomber. But I didn't care I was off that damn mountain! For now.
At 4:30 the next morning, we crawled out of our sleeping bags and got dressed. We had all day to make it back to the car and only a slight idea of what general direction to go in. As luck would have it, after 3 and a half hours, one descent, two river crossings, and continuous bush whacking, we reached the hut. After a quick lunch and a cup of coffee and feeling rejuvenated, our feet began to carry us to the crash site and to the snow capped section glacier that we must inevitably cross. For those unfamiliar with glacial travel, snow cover means one thing, the potential for unseen hazards. For one blissfully unaware of these dangers, crossing this snow field may seem enjoyable; what this ignorant, dewy-eyed individual may fall victim to are unseen crevasses, bergshrunds or moulins. I, on the other hand, am a well trained glacial guide and am all too aware of these hazards. With Don first, me behind him and Bill in toe ( Mandy chose the low road), the comment left to sit in my mind as we began to move was Bill declaring, "If Don disappears, stop moving."
Well, we all had a good laugh once we reached the last pass, some laughing a little bit harder than others. The last big challenge was descending that last mountain; it took us three hours and at this point I almost began to enjoy it. Then finally, with much rejoicing, ,we reached an actual trail. In celebration, Mandy got on her knees and kissed the path, and I took off my pants and hiked in my under armour.
The trip ended with us in Palmer at the local Mexican joint. I had a burrito; veggie of course.
Nearing the end of the trek. This is the true color of the lake. I used a color accent feature on my camera to emphasize only on this color. By the by, this is a typical color of a kettle lake.
In the center of this photo is the tallest peak, just to the left is the pass we crossed from Bomber Glacier.
On the Snowbird Glacier, the nunatak in the background breaks apart and large boulders such as this one fall down. Although one might think I am trying to climb this rock, I am actually trying to hump it.
Can you see the path we followed? Me neither.
This is before I found out I was going to become a mountaineer for the next 34 hours. I checked into the Badassery a young lady, and checked out as a bad ass chick.
