By Curtis Jones in climbing — 25 May 2008

Mt. McKinley (2008) - Day 21

Stuck at Camp 4

We were awakened, again, before sunrise for no obvious reason. Leaving my sleeping bag each moring is the hardest challenge of the day. I mean, typically I've spent 10 - 12 hours heating up the sleeping bag, getting comfortable and finally falling asleep. Somehow this triggers Mike to tell us to wake up. I haven't figured it out yet.

Breakfast was more of that endlessly enjoyable cran-berry stuff and we were told to suit up for a round-trip to camp 3 (11k) to get food from the 17-man Brit group, which, yesterday, in true British fashion, did the math and deteremined that if they waited out the storm they wouldn't have any time remaining to drink beer in Anchorage. They have ten days of food for seventeen people cached at Camp 3 and that would certainly give us some more time on the mountain.

Meanwhile, while Wes was schmoozing with the Brits for their food, Olivia (one of the RMI 3 guides) walked up to the Brits and asked for all of their fuel. They explained to her that they would deliver the fuel to the rangers who would then distribute it, so, "go talk to them." It turns out that she wanted the fuel _not_ for this trip, but for her NEXT trip. Ridiculous. And later I over-heard JR (another RMI 3 guides) talking to Mike about the same thing. How do these people sleep at night?!

The weather forecast now shows only moderate winds tomorrow and the day after, so Mike held a group meeting and we all eventually agreed to try to move to 17k camp tomorrow and possibly summit the day after. We have four days of food cached at the top of the fixed lines, plus our gear. This, of course, means that we will have to forfeit the Brit's food and our "fate" (the end date of the trip) is now mostly fixed (based on our food supply). Mike said that he will be able to scrounge up some food here from other groups that are leaving, so we're not in any danger or anything. Well, not more so than usual. There's also a very slim chance that we might move up to 17k camp today, but it is already 1pm, so that's pretty unlikely imo, and then we'd have to take tomorrow as a rest day, so it wouldn't actually buy us anything. So, tomorrow...maybe.

Baron ran off with an AAI group this morning. I think they intend to make it to base camp by late today.

I'm lying in my tent, where it's moderately warm - boots, gaiters and harness all on. I think that describes just about everyone. We are all set to run down to Camp 3. Oh yeah, my harness seems to be a couples sizes too large now. Finally. There's the promissed weight loss!

I guess this trip will be over in about four days. There's a rough end in sight. I really didn't care for the notion of waiting around 14k camp for another week or ten days. That's just too long.

The true torture begins tomorrow.

Through another feat of extreme sphincter control, I managed to avoid using the camp toilet during the past two day wind storm. This morning was down right warm in comparison - relatively low winds and only a little blowing snow. Still, my hands were completely numb by the end of the ordeal. The two RMI 3 teams are slowly trudging their way up the headwall today to dump a cache. I guess they'll be hanging around to the other end of the storm. I'm surprised.

That was one of the best naps I've ever taken - on or off a mountain. Mike woke everyone up with the announcement that lunch was on. You see, now that some people have exhausted their lunch food, he is now procuring lunch for us. And what a lunch it was - creamy, buttery garlic mashed potatoes. Glorious. Really. Now, to pick up on that nap where I left off.

Another decent nap ended with a call for dinner - ramen, tuna and chips-a-hoy cookies. I think we scored this food from some other group. I wish I had brought cheez-its. And wheat thins. And more pringles. These are the foods I've been craving.

The weather report just came in and it looks like we'll be moving to 17k camp tomorrow. Probably early. There was a time (a week and a half ago) when arriving at 14k camp was somehow synonmous with the end of the trip. But, so many days of bad weather have made those "just two more climbing days" seem impossibly far off in the future, if not completely unattainable. I've accepted the fact that we're not going to have the opportunity to summit so many times that it seems a bit surreal to be moving to high camp finally. Well, almost.

My right leg hurts. I think I pulled a muscle on something a few days ago when quarrying ice blocks for the igloo. I don't remember hurting it. But it hurts - mostly just when stepping down. I guess that means I should be able to make it to the summit, although climbing back down fourteen thousand feet is another story. I guess I'll be doping up on pain killers and pushing through.

If this all plays out, we'll be flying off the glacier on Thursday. So close yet so far away.