Nate Farr and I went to the eastern part of the Stikine, on the British Columbia side of the Coast Range, about 50 miles from Petersburg, Alaska. We were supported by the McNeill-Nott Grant, and I had won a Mountain Fellowship Grant as well. We were likely the third group of climbers to ever attempt peaks accessed from the Scud Glacier, and mountains in the area had either been climbed one time, or not at all. Our primary objective was the North Ridge of Mount Ambition. Following a whirlwind adventure with an unforgettable bush pilot, falling into a flooding river, crossing a serac-threatened waterfall to reach our glacier, and losing 1/3 of our food due to a completely-exploded airdrop, Nate and I were psyched to climb. One problem: Nate's boots were missing. We cut out two stiff plastic insoles from our backpack frame, and used the shredded detritus of our airdrop drybag, plus a Tyvek sheet and tons of Seam Grip, and modified some old Nike running shoes into the “Omni-boots.” Amazingly, Nate was able to front-point and lead steep ice bulges in this homemade footwear.

Not exactly a Koflach. Photo: Herrington.

 We climbed about 1,500 feet of steep neve and alpine ice on the face that separates Mount Ambition, with its northern neighbor of Mount Endeavor. At the col between peaks, the rock on Mount Ambition was horrible, the worst I have ever seen. It made the Fisher Towers look like El Cap. We did about four rock pitches before rappelling off using some “memorable” anchors that I’d just as soon forget about. We turned north and soloed and simul-climbed up the southern ridge on Mount Endeavor, which was about 2,500 feet of rock, mostly mellow mid fifth-class. We summited Mount Endeavor for the peak's second ascent, and called our route Arete sans Chaussures (“Arete without Boots”; D 5.6 AI3, 4,000 feet).

 Getting off the mountain, down a 4,000-foot route, was difficult and compounded by the fact that we had not intended to climb the mountain during that weather window, and knew nothing about its complex architecture. We ended up making a series of V-threads, leaving rock anchors, doing some downclimbing as a storm came in, and leaving about 70 feet of tat, along with many nuts and pitons. In an homage to ratings in the Black Canyon guidebook where we'd trained together this spring, we called the descent from Mount Endeavor a "PDW," for Pretty Damn Western.

 After drying our gear and resting for a couple days, we headed to the West Ridge of Peak 8,692. We climbed through shattered but mostly solid granite in four steep pitches to the aesthetic ridge crest, which continued, at around 5.7, on up to the summit, which had also been reached once before. We named this route the Dalestrom (Dale + Maelstrom) in honor of our walking whirlwind of a seaplane pilot. We rated it 5.9+, 2,500 feet, but after finally being able to pull on some decent holds, it could have been 5.8 or 5.10c. Really, it was just nice not to be raining rock down on the belayer with every move. 

 —Blake Herrington