F.E. WARREN AIR FORCE BASE, Wyo. -- The constant rush of wind died away and the bright sun took the edge off the bitter cold. The crunch of snow and ice beneath our boots stopped. Clouds, thousands of feet below, stretched in all directions, punctuated by smaller peaks like rocky islands.
My final objective had finally come into view an hour earlier, summiting Denali. Now I stood on the airy summit of the 20,310-foot mountain, the highest point in North America. Years of developing mountaineering skills, months of intense physical training and 18 days of expedition climbing all led up to this moment.
5 years ago, I climbed Washington’s Mount Rainier with two other U.S. Air Force Civil Engineer officers. They were training for a guided trip to climb Denali, which sounded challenging and exciting – so the idea was planted in my head to tag the continent’s high point.
In 2023, I decided 2024 would be my year to climb. I started talking with potential climbing partners and began an intensive physical training regimen. In December 2023, I formed a team with two other climbers in Colorado and we started planning our Denali summit attempt together. We wanted a self-sufficient experience, which is why we chose to go as our own team, and not part of a guided group. To this end, we planned our own training trips, determined our own gear loadouts and calculated our own food and other logistics. This was a major learning experience which ultimately increased our familiarity with the mountain and the anticipated challenges.
These months of preparation, training, logistics and coordination culminated with our flight into the base camp on the Kahiltna Glacier on May 23, 2024. The elevation at base camp is 7,300-feet, and the altitude only increases from there. Over the next 18 days, my team and I hauled 430lbs of critical gear and food for 47 miles across glaciers, up and down steep ice slopes, rocky wind-blown ridges and through powdery fresh snow. We camped in the snow each night and built walls out of snow blocks to shelter our tents from the wind. We melted snow for water every morning and evening to drink and cook with. On the lower glacier we travelled on skis, then switched to crampons at 11,200-feet as the steepness increased and ice became more prevalent.
The views were truly breathtaking, and the scale of the mountains was just staggering. It was hard to find the words to describe our surroundings, but I tried. I kept a diary during the climb, which helped me put into words the incredible sights I was witnessing.
On the first day of my journey I wrote, “As we started our departure from the airstrip, the grandeur of the place took front and center. The sun shone bright and brilliant against a sapphire-blue sky, dancing on the snow and sparkling among the scattered falling flakes. All around, rock and ice towered over us like glistening spires in a mighty cathedral. Multiple valleys spread out before us, flanked by thousands of feet of sheer rock walls, where snow and light blue glacial ice clung tenaciously, having resisted the frequent scouring winds... The scale and grandness of this place is unlike anything else.”
During my 18 days on the mountain, I pulled extensively on my past experiences to push through significant physical and mental challenges. Winds exceeding 50 miles per hour, temperatures below -20 F, altitude changes, blisters, gear failure, fatigue, dehydration, basic hygiene and rapidly changing weather forecasts.
I credit my military training as one of the foundations for my determination and mental focus, which I have built on over the years through endurance competitions including an Ironman and multiple 100-mile ultramarathons. When the going got tough, I knew how to focus on the positives, put my head down and keep grinding. I trusted myself, that I had put in the time and work to physically handle the challenges. I also trusted my teammates to carry their share of the load and keep pushing themselves.
My two partners ultimately were not able to make the final push from high camp to the summit on June 6, 2024 due to altitude sickness, so we separated at 17,200-feet. They headed back to camp, and I teamed up with a British climber named Dan, who had unofficially joined us earlier in the trip, to continue the climb.
After learning that I was in the military, Dan shared that he had served in the British military as a Royal Marine and was awarded the U.S. Bronze Star with Valor while deployed to Afghanistan. We connected over our military service, Afghanistan experiences, previous climbs we had done and love of the mountains.
Step by step we pushed towards the summit, crossing the steep and icy slope known as the Autobahn and then up Denali Pass. The wind picked up significantly at the pass, so Dan and I huddled quickly to discuss the risks and our comfort with continuing. We both still had extra layers we could add to stay warm, so we chose to keep going. As we climbed, the air continued to thin and every step took greater effort than the last. The wind scoured the upper mountain, blowing away loose snow and leaving behind a hard-packed and icy surface. Dan and I passed reference points familiar from the map, climbing past Zebra Rocks and Archdeacon’s Tower, crossing the Football Field and then up the 600-foot Pig Hill. The winds died away and the clouds shrouding the summit faded, finally putting us within sight of achieving our goal to stand on the highest point on the continent. As we slowly worked our way up the final airy ridge to the summit, we both cried. All the work, planning and effort of the previous weeks and months came out in a flood of emotion – tears of relief, of gratefulness and of awe.
Standing on the peak was surreal. The cleared weather opened pristine views as far as we could see in every direction, and the absence of wind ushered in a solemn silence. We high-fived, took photos, recorded videos for our loved ones and whooped in celebration. After 45 minutes on top, we re-shouldered our packs and started the long descent, happy and satisfied but fully focused on descending safely.
Why does any of this matter for an Airmen? Not everyone’s goal is to climb a mountain, and it doesn’t need to be. But I firmly believe that finding a challenge that you are passionate about and then setting incremental goals to get there is important. A goal should scare you a little and push you out of your comfort zone. You don’t have to go to Alaska and climb a 20,000-foot mountain, but if you do hard things and grow from them, your confidence will increase, and you will learn that you are capable of more than you ever once thought possible.
So, do hard things. Build physical and mental toughness. Challenge yourself. And you’ll find that you’re more prepared to face the unknown, whether deployed or at home.