Tears in the Wind

by Larry Semento

  Over the months leading up to the trip, I continued my physical training program with growing sincerity as the departure date drew nearer. I also grew more concerned as that time approached; when training for these trips, I am always afraid that I will lack the physical stamina to keep up with the group. I was particularly worried about this for the upcoming Denali expedition because it was a small group and a physically demanding climb. We would be very dependent upon each other; one person’s failure to perform could cause problems for the entire group. I did not want my lack of physical conditioning to cause difficulties during the climb, for me or any of the other climbers. Since there is no objective standard to determine whether or not one’s physical condition is appropriate for a McKinley expedition, I was constantly anxious about this.

  It seems logical that those of us living at sea level are at a distinct disadvantage for climbing at higher altitudes, and that climbers who live and train at higher places, such as in Colorado, are more fit for climbing high mountains. However, from previous experience, I found that is not necessarily the case. High altitudes affect climbers differently; some have difficulty with altitude all the time, and others handle it extremely well, but have occasional bouts of altitude illness. So even though training at higher altitudes may be beneficial in other respects, such as with acclimatizing, climbers from the lowlands do not react to higher altitudes much differently than others.

  However, there is one distinct advantage of training at higher altitudes: the cold. No matter how many hills I could find, cold weather is rare in Florida. Many climbers, in preparing for cold mountain expeditions (Denali being one of the coldest), will go to extremes to prepare. They will take cold showers, sit in baths of ice, or hike nearly naked in cold, snowy weather. Although I would be at a disadvantage when it came to the cold, I did not consider doing any of those things, and hoped that I would be able to adjust to the frigid weather when I needed to.

  In addition to my physical training, I continued making the other necessary preparations for the expedition. I reviewed the list of equipment that Phil Ershler sent to make sure that I had everything required. The list was quite impressive. It included: expedition boots (double plastic outer boots with soft inner boot liners), several pairs of wool socks, long-johns, pile pants, a Gore-Tex jacket and pants, a down jacket and hood, wool hat, baseball cap, polypro liner gloves, wool gloves, heavy synthetic mitts, ski goggles, sunglasses, Thermarest pad, ensolite pad, a sleeping bag rated to 20 degrees below zero, large backpack, several nylon stuff sacks, ice axe (a pointed pick used to stop falls or slides), crampons (sharply pointed metal devices to slip on the bottom of the boots to secure footing on ice and snow), snowshoes, ski poles, carabineers (oblong metal devices that snap open and closed, used to hook items to or to pass ropes through), mechanical ascenders(devices attached to ropes to help climb out of crevasses or up steep walls of ice or snow), seat harness (a belt worn around the waist and crotch to attach climbing ropes), water bottles, eating utensils, Swiss army knife, Bic lighter, nylon cord and webbing, and large trash bags. In addition, we were told to bring snack items such as GORP (a mixture of nuts and candies, like M&Ms), candy bars, crackers, and beef jerky, and items such as sun screen, lip balm, toilet tissue, personal medications and first aid items, books and a radio.

  I had already acquired most of the equipment for previous expeditions, but because the weather on Denali is so cold and harsh, there were other items that would only be used on mountains like McKinley or those in the Himalayas, and I needed to get that equipment. Luckily, I had John and Frank to help. In addition to their valuable advice about the type of gear needed for Denali, Frank loaned me some of his equipment, the most important of which was his heavy down jacket.

  Aside from the equipment that we had to bring, Phil provided the group gear, which included nylon expedition tents, stoves, fuel, ropes, sleds and all food other than our personal snacks. It didn’t take me long to realize that we would each be carrying a heavy load of personal and group gear. It would be a challenge to minimize the weight yet assure that I did not leave anything essential behind. Over the course of the months leading up to the trip, I had many conversations with Frank and John to address this challenge, and their assistance was instrumental.

  Phil provided us a list of the people in our climbing group, with their names, addresses and telephone numbers. Including me, there were a total of four climbers. One of them, Dennis, lived in Georgia, and I contacted him by phone. I learned that he had been to Denali before, but had not made it to the summit because of bad weather. He suggested that I visit him so that he could tell me about the expedition and share his insight. I did so, and Dennis was particularly helpful in advising me about equipment. He looked over my gear and showed me what he was bringing, which assisted me greatly. Thus, I felt that I was well prepared concerning my equipment needs for the trip.

  One of the more difficult aspects of planning for this venture was arranging my affairs at work. This was the longest period of time that I would be absent from my office. Since the expedition was scheduled to take between two and three weeks, I wanted to assure that ample time had been blocked out on my office calendar for time on the mountain and travel to and from Alaska, so I set aside one month. In the past, I had not taken more than two continuous weeks away from my office, and in those rare instances, I was usually available by phone.

  This facet of my planning caused me as much apprehension as anything else. On this trip, there would be very little opportunity for me to call my office or for my staff to contact me in the event of an emergency, especially while we were on the mountain. My law partner was available to cover any emergencies that came up, which made me feel more comfortable. Also, my office staff was competent and well prepared for my absence. It was difficult to ensure that my calendar was kept open for that length of time, particularly for litigation matters that had to be scheduled, such as court hearings, depositions or mediations. My assistants and I constantly juggled the schedule to keep this time open, and it was an ongoing problem up until the day that I left. Finally, just before my departure, I had to review each of my pending files and place notes in them as to what should be done if matters arose during my absence, and this proved to be an onerous and time-consuming task.

  Another part of my expedition planning process involved gathering the funds necessary to pay for the trip, which was no small expense. First, there was the cost of the guide service. Phil provided our guides, the food and group gear during the trip, one night of hotel lodging before and after our time on the mountain, transportation between Anchorage and Talkeetna, Alaska, and the flight from Talkeetna to the Base Camp on Mt. McKinley. Of course, this was the most expensive item associated with the trip. I also had to pay the cost of airline tickets for travel from Orlando, Florida to Anchorage, Alaska and back, and for the hotel in Anchorage. There was the additional equipment that I had to purchase, the most costly of which was a new heavy-duty down sleeping bag, since the bag that I had was insufficient. Of course, there are other travel expenses, such as meals and gift purchases.

  I paid the guide service fees in a couple of installments, as Phil required, and obtained my airline tickets as far in advance of the departure date as I could. I acquired the remaining items of equipment over a period of several months as funds permitted. As the expedition approached, I grew increasingly nervous about finances; although I anticipated being gone from home for no more than three weeks, I wanted to make certain that all of my household bills were paid for one month in case I was gone that long, and to assure that my wife had monies available for her and my daughter in my absence. I became frantic two weeks before my departure, fearing that a financial disaster would happen while I was gone. More than once I considered canceling the trip, then convinced myself that it was a “once in a lifetime experience” and that I should forge on. On one of those occasions, feeling extremely guilty about leaving my family for my own enjoyment while they sat home and suffered, I told my
wife that I was not going. She told me “You’re going! Somehow we will find a way to get through whatever happens, and you are not going to give up on this opportunity.” Her wisdom prevailed.

  As the months preceding the expedition rolled by, my level of excitement grew, notwithstanding my continued concern for my family and law practice. I received information periodically from Phil, each time reading and re-reading his communications with curiosity and anticipation.

  When I first signed on, Phil told me about the other climbers in our party. Mike and Meegan, a couple in their mid-twenties, lived in Denver, Colorado. Dennis, who lived in Fitzgerald, Georgia, was in his early fifties. Phil described each of them as a strong climber with a good personality. Given the length and severity of this expedition, and the fact that we would be more or less dependent upon each other throughout, I knew that Phil would be certain to put together a group of climbers who were compatible both in personality and ability.

  Dennis, who was to be my tent mate, had climbed several times with Phil in the past, and had attempted Denali with Phil’s group a few years earlier. Unfortunately, bad weather set in and stranded them at the High Camp and they did not reach the summit, so Dennis wanted another chance. I would come to know Dennis much better in the time prior to departing for Alaska.

  I knew little about Mike and Meegan. They lived in Colorado and were engaged to be married. Mike had climbed with Phil on Mt. Rainier, and Phil described Mike as a big, strong climber. Phil had not climbed with Meegan before, but from what he knew about her, he felt that she was as tough a climber as Mike.

  There is always some apprehension on these trips about others in the party. On most expeditions, the group is large enough that one or two jerks won’t make much difference. On the Denali expedition, we were a small team, and that could pose a problem. Of concern to me as much as personality types were the relative strengths and abilities of the climbers. Further, and equally important, is team morale. We would have to cooperate and work together as a team under difficult and stressful circumstances. The success of our expedition, and more significantly, our lives and well-being, depended upon it. I knew, however, that Phil had taken that into account in assembling our group.

  As I said, my physical preparedness for these expeditions always caused me trepidation, and I found that to be particularly true for this one. I worried constantly about faltering or not being able to keep up with the group. I knew that once the climbing started, it would be too late to do anything about those fears. However, I knew that Phil must have believed that I had sufficient mountaineering skills and aptitude to fit in with the other climbers.

  After having several telephone conversations with Dennis, we received an invitation to visit him and his wife in Georgia. My wife, youngest daughter, and I drove up to his home for a weekend. Aside from his advice about my climbing gear, Dennis provided valuable insight on the mountain and the expedition.

  Whenever climbers get together, climbing becomes the dominant topic of conversation. Often, the nonclimbing partners feel ignored and left out of the exchange. I knew that my wife had been through this several times before, and I admired her efforts to appear interested in climbing stories that she had heard many times over. I didn’t know whether Dennis’ wife was involved in climbing, but I worried that our wives would lose patience listening to Dennis and I talk mountaineering for two days. It was a great relief for me to learn that she was a wonderful person and had no interest in climbing herself, although she was also generally supportive of her husband’s pursuits.

  Nonclimbing partners are faced with a dilemma. Although they want to encourage their spouses, they worry about the dangers and sometimes face criticism from others. Often people will ask them how they can allow their spouses to climb. Although my choice of hobby posed some problems for my wife early on, I think that she came to understand my desire and need to do this. She did not encourage me to go climbing, but neither did she discourage me. To have someone say to her, “Why do you let him do that, he’ll kill himself,” was very disturbing both to her and me, because it is difficult enough to understand, let alone to convince someone else to comprehend a spouse’s motivation for climbing. I know that she worried about the dangers, although we rarely spoke about it, other than for me to give assurances that I was climbing as safely as possible. We reached a level of quiet understanding that provided us some comfort, although it bothered me that she had to deal with other people’s doubts and discouragement.

  Mountaineering is truly a selfish sport. Any pleasure my family or friends derived from it was incidental to mine. I imagine it’s much like someone watching me eat an entire chocolate cake; perhaps that person gets some pleasure from my happiness. Probably very little, though.

  My choice of hobby also affected the other members of my family. I have always been close with my children, as well as my parents and siblings, and they often discussed their apprehensions about my climbing. My parents were frank and open about their concerns for me and my family. They had good reasons to be apprehensive about my climbing.

  Years ago, when I was a new college student, my sister, Judy, tragically died in an automobile accident while I was away at school. Her vehicle skidded down an icy bridge and crashed into another car. She was a beautiful person, just a high school student at the time, and the loss of her life had a profoundly sad effect on our family. Although we have a large family, I know that my parents did not want to suffer the loss of another child.

  I love my family dearly, and certainly did not want to do anything that would cause any of them grief. The best I could do was to assure them that I would be careful and take every precaution.

  We thoroughly enjoyed our visit with Dennis and I found that he and I were compatible, which was important since we would be spending so much time together on Denali, much of it in our tent. Dennis had considerable climbing experience, having climbed Mt. Rainier, Mt. Elbrus in Russia, and a couple of peaks in South America, to name a few. More importantly from my perspective was the fact that Dennis had made an attempt to climb Denali several years ago with Phil. He was able to help me tremendously with his advice concerning gear, logistics, and details of the climb. Dennis told me, “You’ll never be as hot, and you will never be as cold as you will be on this trip.” He warned me about countless dreary hours spent trapped in tents waiting out storms. He told me about the unsurpassed beauty of the mountain.

  Before we left Dennis’s home, he offered to lend me several items of essential equipment, including a pair of snowshoes and a large duffel bag, and showed me how to separate my gear into various sized nylon sacks. We made plans to meet in Anchorage and to share a hotel room there. As we returned to Florida, I reflected on our visit with Dennis, and was glad that I had gotten to meet him before our expedition began. I looked forward to the Denali expedition with renewed excitement, but also with a heightened concern for its seriousness.

  I received a message from one of my other traveling companions, Mike, about an assignment that his sixth grade science class had started. A letter from his class in Colorado arrived shortly thereafter. It explained that the class was participating in a project about mountaineering during our expedition. At the time, I did not know how great an impact that this school project would come to have.

  The letter explained that the students were setting up a website, that Mike would carry a satellite phone on the trip so that he could send daily reports from the mountain, and that the students could then post the information on their website. The website would include profiles about the expedition members, and information about mountaineering and Mt. McKinley. Thus, people from around the world could learn about and follow our expedition, while the students participated in a “virtual classroom.” I was somewhat dubious about this; on one hand, it would be interesting for my friends and family to follow along with us, but if there were problems, I didn’t want them overly concerned by what they learned on the students’ website. I filled out the resume form they sent me
so that they could publish the information as part of the climbers’ profiles.

  Before leaving for Alaska, I had an opportunity to visit the website. I went to my father’s house and he located the site on his computer. It was really a special moment that I shared with my dad. A few years before, he had serious heart problems and suffered a stroke that had partially incapacitated him. He spent more time on his computer after that, and he particularly enjoyed “surfing the net.” Although he was well aware that I was embarking on the Denali expedition, he never truly understood what was involved until he visited the students’ website. There, he saw the information that the students had posted: photographs of the mountain, a visual description of the route, the itinerary, the equipment list, and a history of climbing on Denali. Thus, he gained some deeper understanding of what the expedition was all about. As we looked with excitement at his computer monitor, I silently thanked Mike’s young students for putting this together.

  As I continued to make final preparations for the trip, I scheduled an appointment to see our family doctor for the physical that was required for all climbers. My doctor told me I was due for a complete physical anyhow, so he set me up for the whole works.

  When I looked at the form “Physician’s Certificate” that the doctor was required to complete, it brought home the seriousness of the climb. The form stated:

  The bearer plans to participate in expeditionary mountaineering in Mt. McKinley National Park, Alaska. In the interest of personal safety, the National Park Service wishes to be assured that he/she is in physical and mental condition to endure the extreme stresses associated with arctic mountaineering.