Harvard Mountaineering 10 - The Harvard Mountaineering Club

HARVARD
MOUNTAINEERING
NuMBER
10
JUNE, 1951
THE
HARVARD MOUNTAINEERING CLUB
CAMBRIDGE, MASS.
to
GEORGE SHANNON FoRBEs
in appreciation of his faithful
and enduring devotion to the Club
Contents
CLUB OFFICERS
5
JUNEAU ICEFIELD TRAVERSE
6
SEPTEMBER SELKIRKS .
18
HARVARD ANDEAN EXPEDITION, 1950 .
25
1950
COSMIC
VENTURES
REPORT
ON
THE
SOUTHERN
SELKIRKS
40
JUNE TETONS, 1949
47
VANCOUVER REVISITED
54
THE GRANITE RANGE .
63
TWO SUMMERS IN THE WIND RIVERS
74
CLIMBING NOTES
75
CLUB NEWS
77
OBITUARIES
78
CLUB MEMBERSHIP
80
INDEX TO HARVARD MOUNTAINEERING, NUMBERS 1-10.
84
Additional copies of numbers 8, 9, and 10 are available at $1.00 each
from the Harvard Mountaineering Club, Lowe11 House, Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass., U.S.A.
Club Officers
1949-50
President
Vice-President
1
GRAHAM 1v1cNEAR, Secretary
IRviNG L. FisK, Secretary
SEVERO M. ORNSTEIN, Treasurer
FRANCIS P. MAGOUN, III,
FREDERICK
L.
DuNN,
1950-51
2
President
President
'THoMAs 0. NEVISoN, Vice-President
"THAYER ScuDDER, Vice-President
RicHARD H. KIMBALL, Secretary
CHARLEs H. BELL, Treasurer
3
J AJVIES C. MAXWELL,
THo:t~-rAs
0.
NEvisoN,
1951-52
President
Vice-President
F. BRucE GERHARD, Secretary
RicHARD H. KIMBALL, Treasurer
THAYER ScuDDER,
CHARLES H. BELL,
ADVISORY COUNCIL
Chairman
KENNETH A. HENDERsoN,
HENRY
s. HALL,
JR.
H. ADAMS CARTER
BENJAMIN G. FERRIS
H. BRADFORD wASHBURN
WILLIAM
w.
v.
L.
PuTNAM
GRAHAM 1v1ATTHEWS
RoBERT H. BATEs
(resigned 1950)
FACULTY ADVISERS
PRoF. GEoRGE S. FoRBEs,
Emeritus
PROF. HASSLER WHITNEY
THoMAs
1
2
3
0.
NEVISON,
Joumal Editor
deceaJed
graduated Febmary, 1951
•
sprmg term
'fall term
[ 5]
Juneau Icefield Traverse
by
ANDEW GRISCOl\1
S
OME forty tniles north of Juneau, Alaska, lies a flat expanse
of ice and snow known as the Juneau Icefielcl. It is about forty
miles long and thirty miles wide and has many glaciers flowing
outward on all sides. Numerous sharp rock spires project up
through the ice to tempt the eye of the climber. The peaks are not
high but since the altitude of the Icefield is only 4,000 to 5,000 feet,
there is plenty of climbing in the one to three thousand feet of
steep rock remaining. The use of pitons for safety is essential on
many of these mountains and a few of the peaks appear so difficult
that direct aid may be necessary. The soundness of the rock is a
further attraction for most of the peaks are composed of strong
crystalline rock.
11ap of Joufhea.stem 1!/os/Ja showing posdim of JMeou lcefield
MoUN
;<
\
\
T-4 1 /i,;
y
G
\
P.4CIFIC
OCEAN
1{8 .,,
Co11rtesy of Appalachia
A party of five climbers: Freel Beckey, Harry (Bud) King,
Dave (Georgia) Michael, Bill Putnam (with the ever-present malemute Skagway), and the author decided to visit the region in July
of 1949. Our special objectives were the impressive rock fin of
[ 6]
Devils Paw, 8,584 feet, and the incredibly sharp Michaels Sword,
6,900 feet, both of which were on the east side of the Icefield. \Ve took off from Juneau in Dean Goodwin's Norseman
seaplane at 4 :30 in the afternoon of the fourteenth and landed on
Twin Glacier Lake bringing skis and packs containing a minimum
of food, sleeping gear, and cooking equipment. Our packs were
light because Fred had been on an expedition to the Icefield earlier
that year and had left a small cache of tents, food and gas at the
base of the Sword. Loading up on the shore at the snout of the
West Twin Glacier, we found a welcome excuse to delay starting
as Buddy took a brief swim in the glacial waters of the lake thereby
retrieving his skis which had mysteriously slid off the precipitous
shore and sunk into unknown depths.
At six o'clock we started to climb along the brush and moraine
beside the glacier and after two miles cut off to the right up a steep
slope covered with alders, small streams, and large mosquitoes.
Theorists who held that skis should be tied to one's packboard instead of held in the hand felt some of their arguments were unsound when ski tips tangled in branches which then came alive
and swept the climber over backwards. Patches of snow appeared,
the slope eased off somewhat, and we climbed slowly through an
evergreen forest which soon thinned away to open snow slopes
reaching up to a snowy pass. Our fatigue was forgotten at the
top when we had our first view of Devils Paw and the Sword. We
were near enough to the Arctic circle so that in the middle of
the night there was a glow in the sky from the sun to the north,
ten degrees below the horizon. This made the peaks stand out like
a fantastic black cardboard silhouette against the sky.
Y.l e donned our skis and in a frosty clear night made the nine
miles to the base of the Sword by six o'clock. Some of us visited
en route a camp of the Juneau Research Project and were very
hospitably treated considering that the men had been awakened
from warm sleeping bags at three in the morning.
A brilliant warm sunny day was our introduction to this area.
We waited in vain for Dean Goodwin to make an aerial drop
of our equipment as he had promised. In the late afternoon Fred
and I decided to stop cursing Goodwin and climb Couloir Peak
because bad weather was coming our way from the east. A two
mile ski to the south side of the mountain ended at the base of
[7]
Photo, W. R. Latady
Courtesy of Appalachia
MICHAELS SWORD AKD THE DEVILS PAW FROi.VI THE JUNEAU ICEFIELD
a steep 1,000 foot icy couloir for which the peak is named. We
climbed up this to a pinnacled ridge and scrambled up another
hundred feet to the summit. We were tired from over thirty-six
hours of hard physical work and took time out to watch the evening shadows lengthen. 'vVe thought the view of our proposed route
on the north ridge of the Sword interesting to say the least.
On the sixteenth Fred and Bud went to attempt the Sword
while Bill and Georgia climbed part way up the gully on the
right side of the main summit of the Paw. The rains came causing
a rapid retreat of both parties but not before the first had collected
an old cache of pitons on the ridge and the second determined that
the couloir on the Paw was a poor and dangerous route. We were
already tolerably sure of this last fact because an incessant clatter
of falling rocks could be heard in the vicinity of an exposed traverse
higher up above the couloir.
The next day dawned very promisingly so Fred and Bud were
elected to climb the Sword while Bill and Georgia headed south
seven miles to explore the Cutler, the highest summit on a ridge
known as the Horn Peaks. I stayed at camp to collect the aerial
drop of our supplies which absolutely had to arrive that day. In the
afternoon three members of the Research Project arrived to set up a
camp nearby, and they saw Fred and Bud waving from the summit
of the Sword. The climb had proved to be very exacting, requiring
numerous safety pitons. The impossibility of many sections of the
north ridge had forced the climbers to stay in the shade of the east
face for much of the route. Many overhangs constantly made it appear as though the route were hopeless, and the sensational exposure
of the 2,000 foot face was not encouraging. By four o'clock they
nevertheless reached the summit in time to see Goodwin drop our
supplies.
Before we left Juneau, Goodwin had told us to take care not to
get hit during the drop. Our gear was being dropped free fall in
twenty-five pound bundles and these could do rather permanent
damage to most heads. He said that each of our twenty-eight
bundles would land within two hundred yards of the tent. To our
fury, however, his statements were not justified by the results.
Lazily dropping from 1,000 feet he scattered bundles over three miles
of snowy landscape. We worked late into the night digging out
bundles and carrying them back to camp. Two were never found
{9]
and fortunately were unimportant. The morning breakfast of
Freel's oatmeal, scraped off the snow after three weeks in the rain,
and boiled with a tablespoon of Klim, no salt, and no sugar-then
burned, was forgotten in the joy of having plenty of food.
July nineteenth produced some ominous looking clouds, but Bud
and I skied around behind the Paw to reconnoiter our proposed
route. Just as we turned the southeast end of the mountain the
clouds settled clown onto the glacier, completely obscuring the view.
Hopefully we continued, involved ourselves in an icefall somewhere
on the north face of the mountain, and finally cleciclecl that we did
not know exactly where we were. The expected rain appeared
while we returned to camp following the holes made by our skipoles
in the icy crust. At camp we found that Bill and Georgia had arrived with the news that the Cutler needed sneakers to be climbed
safely. Now that the aerial drop had been made, we possessed
sneakers and could devote ourselves more seriously to climbing.
During more rain on the following clay we were musing in our
tents when a nwre thoughtful tnetnber of the party came up with
the Michael Cycle. This natural law stated that the weather on the
Juneau Icefielcl consisted of a cycle of one and one-half clays of clear
weather followed by two clays of rain. To our amusement the
cycle worked fairly well during our stay of two weeks.
The morning of the twenty-first found us asleep in a heavy fog.
By afternoon we cleciclecl the Michael Cycle predicted good weather
to come and so we packed a small camp around to the north side of
the Paw. Here Bill, Georgia, and I passed the night while Freel
returned to our main camp.
At dawn we began the climb up the steep glacier to the westernmost col. The route to the summit would have to be from the col
or up the steep northeast ridge which extended half way clown to
camp. All morning we worked out a path to the col between numerous crevasses. There were three delicate snow bridges without
which the climb might not have been possible. Skag, being unropecl,
needed much moral encouragement to cross them. Higher up when
the glacier was about one hundred yards wide, there was a series of
large crevasses cutting completely across it. A fourteen foot overhanging lip on one cost us an hour. Skag had to be hoisted up this
on a rope along with loud protestations but otherwise he climbed
under his own steam.
[ 10]
CourtcsJ' of AjJfalachia
Photo, W. L. Putuam
SKIING ACROSS THE JUNEAU ICEFIELD, RESEARCH PEAK IN DISTANCE
Courfes:,• of AN>a/acllia
Photo, W. L. Putnam
MICHAELS SWORD (LEFT) AND DEVILS PAW (RIGHT) FROM THE SOUTH
From the col we surveyed the possible routes. We were only five
hundred feet from the summit but no route looked very obvious.
The steep ice face seen in the photograph proved to have an angle
of about sixty degrees and was very rotten in the bargain. The south
face was appallingly steep and a cornice at the top looked very depressing. It was too late in the clay to attempt any climb, but we decided that the best idea would be to obtain the northeast ridge at the
lowest possible place. On the way clown a fixed rope was left at the
bad crevasse.
We started late at nine o'clock the following clay in hopes that
some of the fresh snow on the rocks would melt off. We decided
that the best place to get onto the ridge was a spot where it disappeared under an icefall which was a mass of creaking seracs. A wet
thirty foot rock pitch needing several safety pitons put me into a position to belay Bill to the left around the corner to a steep snow
slope. This move was possible only because we could get behind a
remarkable tongue of ice a foot thick which stuck around the corner
at us. We were happy that it managed to hold our weight. The
snow rapidly turned into 150 feet of 50-degree ice up which Bill
carved a path grumbling about an unwise jerk I had made on the
rope. We were now on the ridge which was a pleasant climb the
rest of the way. It was mostly rock, needing plenty of belays and
corniced near the top. The clay was warm although we were in the
shade, and we saw a twenty foot snow bridge, which we had crossed
the clay before, cave in with a loud roar. At seven we made the top
and retreated in great haste since the darkness was approaching,
along with the low scudding clouds of a new storm. It was dark and
overcast at eleven when we reached the bottom of the rock pitch,
and we all secretly wondered if our key snowbriclges had collapsed
in the heat of the clay. They fortunately were only badly softened
and camp was made at one o'clock. It is of interest that these two
clays were probably the only two during the summer when the peak
might have been clin1becl. Previously there had been too much
fresh snow, and soon afterwards the snow bridges must have collapsed.
During our stay behind the Paw, Fred and Bud had also been
busy. On the first day they attacked the Antler from the south side.
A gully and then a few hundred feet of difficult rock led to the sharp
west ridge which ends in a steep face extending up to the summit.
[ 12]
l
Courtesy of Aj>j>a/achia
Photo, W. L. Putnam
SOUTH PEAK OF DEVILS PAW FROl\I THE NORTHEAST RIDGE
Kodachrome b.v Andrew Griscom
"MICHAELS SWORD AND JUNEAU ICEFIELD TO THE WEST FROM DEVILS PAW
Several pitons were needed to protect the airy belay points for the
final four leads to the top.
On the following clay they skied five miles west from the Antler
across Harvard Basin in order to climb Organ Pipe. This was another very sharp, awe-inspiring peak with steep granite buttresses
giving a fluted effect reminiscent of a bank of organ pipes. The
morning was used in skiing around the n10untain hunting for a
route of ascent. In the afternoon they decided on the south ridge, a
route which in the tnorning they had attempted and cliscarclecl. This
route wandered somewhat from the ridge at times and proved very
difficult. Numerous safety pitons were needed plus one for a pendulum traverse. The summit was reached at too late an hour to return that clay so another night was spent in Harvard Basin.
Bill, Georgia, and I packed back to base camp in the rain on the
twenty-fourth and Bud arrived with Freel on the following clay. We
were glad to see each other and learn how successful both parties had
been. Time was running out, and we should have to leave soon.
The plan was to ski west twenty miles to the Taku Towers and
then to travel another twenty-five miles southwest down the Mendenhall Glacier to the Juneau airport, thus completing a traverse of
the whole icefield.
The twenty-sixth was foggy, but we shouldered seventy pound
packs early in the afternoon and headed off past Couloir Peak
toward the Taku Towers. We made camp in the evening on the
east side of the main branch of the Taku Glacier. Two more clays
of fog and drizzle dampened our enthusiasm for back-packing and
several visits were made to the main camp of the Research Project.
On the twenty-ninth we crossed the five miles of foggy glacier by
compass bearing and concentrated all our will power for good
weather on the morrow.
Our efforts were successful, and a warm sunny day put new
strength into our backs. We carried loads up to the western drainage basin behind the Towers and separated into several groups to
attempt some climbs. Because of the bad weather and consequent
shortening of food supplies we felt it unwise to attempt the Towers.
Also a low overcast was coming in from the west. Georgia and I
climbed a pleasant rock peak we nicknamed "Sapphire Spire". Freel
and Bud found snow conditions too dangerous to climb their peak,
but at five when we reconvened, Fred and I decided on a hasty climb
[ 14]
I
Courfes)'
of
Photo, W. L. Putnam
ApjJa/acllia
HORN RIDGE FROM THE WEST
(Cutler Peak in the Center)
Photo, W. L. Putnam
Courtesy of A/'l>alachia
TAKU TOWERS FROJ\I THE WEST
/
/
/
/
/
/
/
/
/
/
/
Photo, U11ifed States Army Air Force
THE JUNEAU ICEFIELD
Aerial view showing route out, looking southwest
of Flower Tower. The others went ahead to lay a trail down the
Mendenhall Glacier before dark. A snow slope followed by some
gullies led to an enjoyable an~te reaching up to the summit some
thousand feet above the icefield. From the top, Devil's Paw seemed
far away and much fresh snow mantled its deep cliffs. The peaks to
the north in the Bemers Bay Group were strangely reminiscent of
the Bugaboos. We hurried down and set off in the gathering twilight following the tracks of the advance party. A storm was building, and spits of rain continually annoyed us. A midnight slalom
down the well-crevassed upper icefall of the Mendenhall Glacier was
touchy at times, especially since a toe-plate had broken off each of
my skis. Soon after this we lost the tracks which were guiding us
and camped on a flat spot in the pouring rain.
Morning brought no let up in the weather. Skis carried us
within three miles of the Mendenhall snout; from then on we carried the skis. Route finding was next to impossible due to heavy
mist, and we kept running into badly crevassed areas. Against our
will the crevasses pushed us to the south side of the glacier, and the
final mile seemed to be one continuous icefall. All of us were soaking wet and tired from step-chopping, bushwhacking, and rock
climbing on the cliffs at the side of the glacier. Belays were necessary many times and heavy packs did not help. Skagway was horrified at this pinnacle hopping, and force was applied by boot in a
few places.
Late at night we reached the highway. Our trip had proved
a success despite bad weather, and all of our proposed ascents had
been, accomplished. We had proved the mountaineering potentialities of a fine new climbing area, and made the first full traverse
of the Juneau Icefield.
[ 17]
September Selkirks
by
TED ScuDDER
INCE the end of World War II, more Harvard Mountaineers
have climbed in the Selkirks of British Columbia than in any
other major climbing area. Besides being readily accessible via the
Canadian Pacific Railroad, the Selkirks offer much splendid rock and
snow climbing of varying difficulty. Glacier Depot, the small C.P.R.
station lying in the heart of the mountains, supports a general store,
rangers, and various railroad maintenance buildings. Here climbers can get last minute supplies and establish a very comfortable
camp, returning nightly from any number of close and bt;autiful
climbs. On the other hand, climbers can push north or south into
wilder and often virgin territory.
Early on the morning of September 7, 1949, five of us met at
Glacier Depot arriving both from East and West. Meeting at
Spokane, Harrison Blair, Fred Dunn, Dick Kimball and I proceeded to Banff where we supplemented the little dried food we
had. Tom Nevison, in from Vancouver, met us at Glacier. The
purpose of our trip, if we really had one, was to wander south to the
Bishops Range, reconnoitering the passes to the south and west of
the Illecillewaet Neve which had been practically uriexplored since
the days of Howard Palmer in 1908, and perhaps find a route into
the Battle Range. At first, our weather was beautiful-sparkling
clear days with only wisps of clouds-butsooi1 cirrus began to n1arch
across the sky, until finally it was blanketed and 'the first snows of
winter began to fall.
We ascended Asulkan Brook to the pass and spent our first night
just south of the lip of Asulkan Pass. Far below, we could hear the
Incomappleux (or simply Fish) Riv~:;r which seemed small and
frail, and yet which forced u~ the follow,ing night to wait until dawn
to cross its frigid but quieter torrent.
The south side of Asulkan Pass, though steep, was covered with
ripe blueberries. Some, already bitten by the first frosts, were turning in consistency yielding that winelike taste which sent us scrambling over the ground like marmots. Only one route of descent
S
[ 18 ]
J{odachrome by Tom 1Veviso11
THE INCOi\!APPLEUX RIVER
seemed favorable at the time, namely following the main gully
downward on its western side, avoiding the steep pitches sprayed by
numerous tiny waterfalls.
Once across the Incomappleux, we fought our way through the
alders-reason enough for keeping as high above brushline as
possible-to the base of the East Moraine of the Dawson Glacier, a
natural route into the heart of the Dawson Range. Threatened by
possible rain, we rationalized into camping early on a grassy meadow
just below the moraine where water, wood, and blueberries abounded along with numerous tiny chinchilla-like animals.
The following day, one of those so well-known to mountaineers,
we spent in our tents. I remember at midnight, with the first
crashes of thunder, seeing Tom's face appear in my tent opening
followed by the rest of him and much gear. The next day we read
the wrappers on all the cans, as the clouds alternately rose and fell,
[ 19 ]
depositing a new coat of snow on the Dawson Peaks. But by evening, the wind had died; the rain, hail, and snow ceased, with a rosy
hue tinting the clouds.
The subsequent day, clear and beautiful, saw us top Donkin
Pass and roar down to Mitre Creek, where above its southern bank,
on the ridge base of Cyprian Peak, we pitched our main camp. It
was perhaps the final two hundred feet to reach the top of Donkin
Pass that gave us the hardest climbing of the trip. Directly beneath
the pass lay a sixty foot cliff with perhaps a climbable chimney in it,
but below this, a steep snow slope, isolated from the glacier by a
wicked bergschrund, made the route impractical with packs. Instead, we ascended from the glacier up a steep snow slope to the
right, cutting steps to a point just below the level of the pass. Then
we traversed the snowfield to the rocky ridge of Donkin, still below
its crest. Here we met some difficulty, having to cut steps up a steep
slope of snow-covered talus alternating with ice, all with good exposure. An ice pulpit, hugging the ridge above our proposed route,
afforded an excellent belay stance from which to protect the climber
cutting steps just a few feet below. Later, with a fixed rope, we
gained the ridge crest a short distance above the pass and rapidly
descended the southern grassy slopes to beat out the approaching
darkness.
The next three days found us reconnoitering the West Ridge
of Cyprian Peak, subsequently climbing Cyprian proper by a new
and interesting route, ascending Donkin from the south, and running excursions over to the Purity Range in an effort to peer into
Battle Valley. To climb Cyprian we were off early in the morning
(for once), quickly covering the initial portion of the long West
Ridge. This presented a fairly easy knife-edge scramble, although
occasionally interesting bits of rock climbing and chimney work appeared. The ridge was characterized by numerous spires, some of
which we made brief first ascents of; others, we tactfully avoided.
By early afternoon, we were well along, but, logically, the three man
rope found itself falling behind and decided to turn back. Harrison
and I, eager to continue, found the route progressively easier, with
belaying no longer necessary. Three-ten found us in the gully
directly beneath the main peale Under our feet a steep snowfield
descended to a heavily crevassed glacier which angles directly into
the Bishops Glacier. Above us, the snow continued to the summit,
[ 20]
Kodaclirollle bJ• Tom Ncvisoll
CYPRIAN PEAK FROJ\1 DON KIN PASS
(West Ridge
011
tlte right)
leaving uncovered, however, a small rock ridge up which we
climbed. On top the view was impressive; Augustine Peak lay
slightly to the east, and to the south we could see portions of the
Battle Range. On descending, we reached the camp at one A.M. the
next morning after climbing up forested cliffs in the dark and flushing numerous bear-like things.
The next day was delightfully lazy for three of us with Dunn and
Kimball off at an early hour to explore Purity Pass and a peak to the
west of the pass. They were kept from the summit, however, by
snow flurries which increased in intensity during the afternoon.
By dawn the next morning, we knew that it was time to leave. In
camp a light rain was falling, but up on the glaciers and passes that
had changed to snow. Rising early we had gazed out upon a mistengulfed world with the mist hanging in layers, but occasionally
closing in completely to silently permeate the peaks. Quickly we
packed up camp, rigging tarps over our packs, and set out across
Mitre Creek and east up onto the Bishops Glacier. Our objective
that night was the Glacier Circle Hut.
Ascending the Bishops Glacier, we reached the Deville Neve,
running north and south. At its northern end this Neve is marked
by an impressive icefall lying snugly between Mounts Selwyn and
Topham, and overlooking Glacier Circle. To descend it is necessary
to take to the cliffs on the eastern side of the icefall. Because of the
near zero visibility, we started across the Neve too close to the icefall
and soon found ourselves in a maze of crevasses which ran, seemingly, in all directions. Throughout the afternoon we toiled between then1 and up their walls cutting steps occasionally as we went,
always looking for some rock to appear through the mist and snow.
Finally the clouds lifted slightly, Mount Topham unshrouclecl itself,
and we reached the east side of the Neve. In high spirits we clashed
to the edge of the icefall. Glacier Circle was below us, its firs and
pond clearly visible as a gentle rain cleared the atmosphere.
Eagerly we waited as Freel pounded two pitons at the cliff's top.
Then, tying the ropes together, we rappellecl clown into a gully,
lowering the packs as we went. The hour was late now. After
spending a few futile moments searching for an easier route clown,
we realized that unless we tried a 240 foot rappel we would be
stranded for the night. Already it was getting colder, the rain was
changing to snow which coated the rock making route finding irn[ 22]
possible. On seeing how far from the bottom the rappel rope hung,
we sought what cover there was on a tiny ledge with a slight overhang-tying ourselves and packs in as best we could. Fred could
lie down, but was almost directly in the wet, while the rest of us
huddled or stood under the overhang as darkness came in.
We climbed into our damp sacks, held a tarp over our heads, and
nibbled at a can of spam. A rising wind flung rain and snow at us,
and I could feel the water creeping slowly through the bottom of
my sack to encircle my toes while simultaneously a steady dripping
was saturating the rest of me. Finally the air began to cool and it
snowed harder as the night passed slowly.
Photo, W. R. Latady
DEVILLE ICEFALL FROi\I THE SOUTH
Ronte is up the cliff on the left
[ 23]
Dawn crept in cold and white with snow still floating down.
Once into our wet parkas and boots, vve forced a traverse east, picking our way carefully across the cliff where overnight all holds had
been enveloped. Finally we reached an easy gully down which we
rappelled. From there it was a wet scramble to the moraine below.
Several hours later, after a long and thoroughly annoying search,
we swam into the Glacier Circle Hut. Although there was no stove,
we located several pots which we filled with kindling and soon we
had the hut warm and completely filled with smoke. \Ve found
cots, mattresses, and heavy Hudson Bay blankets which we fought
over. Evening found us huddled in our blankets with a maze of
clothes lines about our heads.
Noon the next day we were finally on the Illecillewaet Neve
watching the sun fade, the mist roll in, and every sign of rock fade.
Even through goggles the whiteness was so dense that we could not
tell neve from sky. A man fifty yards away would have been completely consumed. To make matters worse the new snow was well
over a foot deep in spots. On compass bearings we trekked slowly
onward. Occasionally, black holes loomed up and then we knew
that we were too close to the Neve's edge. Once we saw a spot in
the snow which turned out to be a migrating Sora Rail, too weak to
lift itself far above the snow. Unable to catch it, we knew that its
migration had come to an end. Finally by seven that evening the
mist lifted enough to see Perley Rock, the landmark showing our
journey's end. That night we huddled in two tents as wind-blown
snow swept across the Illecillewaet to cover everything.
The next clay was the final one. Setting an impressive record by
falling waistdeep into every small crevasse, we picked our way down
the Illecillewaet Glacier. The crevasses were completely obscured
by fresh snow, and it was a slow process of probe-step-probe-step.
But the sun was finally out, shining brightly off the fresh snow.
Late that afternoon we plodded into Glacier Depot, resolving to return again, but never in mid-September.
[ 24]
Harvard Andean Expedition, 1950
Yerupaja-World of Ice
by
GEORGE
I.
BELL
"THESE are giant mountains covered with eternal snow, appearing to join heaven and earth." Such are the words which
Raimondi, greatest of Peruvian explorers and geographers, chose
to describe the Cordillera de Huayhuash. Highest of these great
mountains is Nevado Yerupaja-21,759 feet.
Raimondi had mentioned the ice-clad mountains in 1874 and
although the peaks lie but a hundred miles north of Lima, it was
not until 1936 that the Cordillera was explored by a party of Austrians. Included in this party was Erwin Schneider, one of the
world's great mountaineers. He and a companion climbed two
of the highest peaks, Nevados Siula (20,800') and Rassac (19,800')
and made two bold but unsuccessful attempts on Y erupaj a.
In the next thirteen years several parties of American and European climbers looked at, reconnoitred by air, and launched abortive attempts to climb Yerupaja. Their conclusions were the same:
it was a worthy objective, almost completely unassailable, but perhaps vulnerable from the southwest.
These fascinating reports, several fine photographs of the peak,
a new road to within twenty-five miles of Yerupaja proved completely irresistible to four members of the H.M.C. and to two members of the Stanford Alpine Club, and so the Harvard Andean Expedition, 1950, came to be. I was joined in this venture by Austen
Riggs, graduate student in biology at Harvard and our tallest member; Graham Matthews, the only one of us who had climbed over
15,000'; Jim Maxwell, then president of the H.M.C.; Dave Harrah, then president of the Stanford Alpine Club; and Chuck Crush,
at 34 our oldest member.
The last members of the expedition arrived in Lima by Panagra
Clipper on June 23. Austen and I had been in town about ten clays
to complete last-minute arrangements. It was in Lima that Dave
suggested, "Maybe we should call the mountain 'Old Roundtop'."
[ 25]
This would keep expedition morale high, for no mountain with
a name like that could be very hard to climb.
We were joined in Lima by Jack Sack, Peruvian editor of the
Harvard Crimson. We were carrying a two-way radio in to base
camp with which to keep Jack informed in Lima. Also joining
the expedition were Don Juan Onnea and his son Tomas. Don
Juan is an ornithologist and taxidermist at the Peruvian National
University of Trujillo. The Ormeas were going to stay at base
camp and collect birds for the American Museum of Natural History and the University of Trujillo, while we were climbing "Old
Roundtop."
Our progratn now was to get ourselves and 1500 pounds of equipment to the foot of the mountain. There we would establish a base
camp (at about 13,000 feet), and four higher camps. From the
high camp we should be able to climb to the summit and return
in a single day. Each camp was to be a self-sufficient unit vvith
tents, sleeping bags, air mattresses, a gasoline stove, and food for
several clays.
Nine strong, we left Lima by truck on Monday, June 26, and
it was not until the evening of June 28 that we approached the
road's end at the town of Chiquian.
On July 3 Jack left for Lima with the truck and the rest of us
lifted our eyes up to the mountains. ·with 17 pack animals and
the five feeblest saddle horses in the Andes we set out for the base
of Yerupaj a. In two days we had covered 25 trail miles and were
as far as horses could go. So at 13,400' we decided to call it base
camp.
In the Cordillera de Huayhuash, the wind blows nearly always
from the east, from the Amazon Basin, and the Cordillera boasts
one of the most monstrous aggregation of cornices ever assembled.
Some of the cornices on Yerupaja project a hundred feet out from
the supporting ridge. With a cornice of this size, it is easy to take
the attitude that whatever a minute climber may do cannot bother
so lordly a cornice. This attitude is not always well taken. In 1948
three Swiss climbers on Nevada Alpamayo had a huge cornice of
ice collapse under them. They fell about a thousand feet and are
still alive to tell about it.
To get to the base of the southwest ridge of Yerupaja, one must
cross over or go around the intervening north ridge of Rassac Peak
[ 26]
which lies to the west of Y erupaj a and then climb onto and up the
northwest glacier of Yerupaja. Dave and Austen found a route
over the ridge above 16,000 feet and Graham, by traversing some
interesting goat trails, reached the glacier and ascended a long way
by its side.
Routes both over and around the ridge had thus been found but
we chose the higher since here strong mules would be able to carry
gear another 1500 feet up. On July 9 three strong mules and their
willing owner, Naptali Sambrano, were secured. Naptali was willing, that is, as long as he had plenty of coca to chew. Chuck had
been sick when he arrived at base camp and was just getting back
on his feet again, Austen was coming clown with the bug, and
Jim thought he should stay at base camp to establish radio contact with Jack. This left Dave, Graham, and me to escort the mules
as high as they could go and establish Camp I about 500 feet
higher. The camp site was, at about 15,200 feet, a pocket of boulders
and grass at the base of a long reddish scree slope. We called it
boulder pocket or boulder carnp. It felt good to be underway and
moving up the mountain at last. We hoped not to return to base
camp until Y erupaja had been climbed. That night we had our
first bad weather since arriving in the Cordillera, somewhat over
an inch of snow.
'vVe were three cold and wet climbers in the morning. Dave and
I pulled out at 8 :30 carrying all that vvould be needed to establish
Camp II: a two man tent, two sleeping bags, "colossal" air mattresses, a Coleman stove, food, and personal gear. 'vV e climbed
slowly up the gruelling, snow covered scree. Although Rassac ridge
is here a broad and often most confusing mass of small ridges,
gullies, and tilted cliffs, a route was found through these and we
left a trail of cairns to indicate the way to those who would follow.
After about six hours we descended from the last shoulder of the
ridge and set up Camp II in a level space beside the glacier at
somewhat over sixteen thousand feet. This was glacier carnp. The
view of Rondoy and Jirishanca was superb and awe-inspiring. We
were well above the glacier and could look directly across at their
unassailable, a valanche-scan·ed faces.
The following morning we ascended smne 800 feet to make
sure that a route could be forced onto the glacier and above. What
we found left us encouraged and confident that the base of the
[ 27]
southwest ridge could be reached and a strong camp established
there-provided that the expedition did not remain crippled by
sickness. But returning to boulder camp, we found Graham feverish, too weak to descend to base camp. Austen was still below. Jim
and Chuck had come up from base camp with loads from the
clump and Naptali was doing yeoman work as a carrier. Chuck
was still weak and didn't want to go any higher for some time;
Jim descended once more to his radio. Thus it was decided that
Dave and I would pack over the ridge again and establish Camp
III in the col at the base of the southwest ridge. On the morning
of July 12 we set off over the ridge and reached glacier camp in
about three hours.
After a good night's sleep we left glacier camp at 8:30 and
climbed steadily over broken rock until we reached a point where
the glacier filled the entire valley and we had no rock to climb
on. There we put on crampons, tied into a hundred and fifty foot
rope, and climbed onto the glacier. We were in the upper reaches
of an ice-fall, but were able to climb out of it to a relatively level
snowfield which appeared to stretch all the way up to the col
with only minor bumps and cracks.
We were now passing beneath the giant west ice-face of Y erupaj a
which is overhung at the top by large cornices. At one point a
huge section of the face bad given way and a few million tons bad
cascaded clown and across the surface of the glacier. We slogged
upward, withering under a blazing sun and finally reached the col
(18,800') at 2:30. Looking south, we were alarmed at the steepness
with which the slopes fell away from the col and southwest ridge.
We found a place some twenty feet below and north of the col
where the upper lip of a bergschrund had fallen in. This left a
dubious platform large enough for several tents-with a menacing
serac above and to one side of the shelf. Dave wagered that the
bottom would drop out before the top fell in and I bet on the serac
above. We heard them both creaking during the night; it was for
us a cold and sleepless night.
We were back at glacier camp next morning and found it well
stocked for Austen, Jim, and three porters had packed loads over
the previous clay. They told us that only two or three loads remained at boulder camp. This meant that boulder and glacier
camps were essentially complete and col camp was started. The
[ 28]
climbing as far as col camp was quite routine; in time we had
no hesitation in travelling the entire route unroped. The fun
would begin above.
On July 15, I struggled down to base camp with a fever; and
Austen, with the porters, carried the last loads over to glacier camp.
On the sixteenth, Chuck, Dave, Jim, and Austen carried loads up
to col camp and Dave and Austen remained there, planning to
put up high camp as soon as they felt like it. In the following few
days, Chuck, Jim, and Graham brought additional food up to col
camp-Jim then retired to base camp for some rest. But at col camp
all was not going well; the weather was windy, with gusts up to an
estimated eighty miles per hour. Dave suffered an attack of indigestion, and at this altitude Austen was having trouble maintaining adequate circulation through his great length. Three times
they planned to start forth and got nowhere. Finally, on the 20th,
Dave carried two loads up to about six hundred feet above camp,
as far as he could go unroped, and Chuck replaced Austen at col
camp. But his night was made miserable by a racking cough, the
aftermath of the illness, which handicapped him all summer. The
next day Chuck descended to seek relief and I went up to join
Dave at the col.
The weather was now excellent; the strong winds of the previous few days had died and we were optimistic that we could put
up the high camp and even attempt the summit. We were a
bit worried because somehow we had but one Coleman at col
camp. To take it higher would mean leaving col camp stoveless
without warning to those below, so we took along only some
candles telling ourselves that we could melt ice for water with them.
From col camp it was evident that the southwest ridge itself
would not go. The ridge, often knife-edged, broken, or corniced,
was long and dangerous. To its left, however, out on the west
face, it appeared that a route could be forced through the seracs,
ice-cliffs, and crevasses. Dave had studied out a route through this
maze up to a saddle in the summit ridge at about 21,000 feet.
July 22 dawned bright and clear. We left col camp at 7:15,
descended a bit, and made our way up the steep glacier wall north
of the ridge. In an hour we had reached the two packs. Shouldering them, we roped up, crossed an intricate crevasse, and began a
long upward traverse out toward the center of the west face. This
[ 29]
would bring us out above a great section of the face that had
a valanced away. From there, we would be able to climb directly
up through broken ice-cliffs toward the low point of the summit
ridge. The footing was hard snow or ice sloping between 40 and
60 degrees-crampons held securely. The route went well: after the
diagonal there was a broad, steep gully, then a horizontal traverse
across a slope which ended below in a rather considerable dropoff into the avalanche area, finally up a broken gully through icecliffs. Shortly after noon we reached a level place barely large
enough for a tent. To leave the platform, one would have to chop
steps diagonally upward. I was all for stopping and Dave agreed,
but not until he had chopped some steps and climbed above the
overhang, ascertaining that we were some four hundred feet below
the crest. He drove an Ice piton and clescenclecl via the rope to
our shelf.
VIe sat 111 the sun for a while and yodeled clown at Jim~
who, 3,000 feet below, was ascending the glacier to col camp.
Then we pitched the tent and went to bed, the only thing to do
at this altitude. Dave had a copy of the Revolt of the Masses
which he was devouring for the third time. We set snow in a
pot and told the sun to melt it. Some snow evaporated, some just
sat quietly, but little showed a real desire to melt. Nobody had
any inclination to hold a heavy candle or pot to melt snow and
since we and our food were dehydrated, the upshot was no supper.
Shortly after dawn, we were astir and, breakfastless, set off.
All too soon it became evident to me that I was entirely too feeble
for any attempt on the summit and would be quite content if we
could merely return to col camp, food, and drink. So we went
back clown to high camp, thawed fingers and toes, and waited
for the sun to peek past the overhang. Then, slowly and cautiously,
we clescenclecl to col camp. Jim was there. He reported that he
was feeling fine and took movies of us as we arrived. I was glad
to turn my end of the rope over to Jim for the next try. The plan
now was for Dave and Jim to reoccupy high camp, acclimatize
there a clay, and then try for the summit on the third clay hence.
Nobody expected the plan to go through in detail; it ran
aground at the very start. Clouds and wind kept Dave and Jim
in camp on July 24. The higher one goes, the more sensitive
are one's criteria of the weather and the worse the weather. For
[ 30]
three days Dave and Jim were pinned down in their tents at col
camp by high winds and intermittent snow. Austen and Chuck had
carne up from base camp and we reinforced glacier camp with
food from below. Graham packed a stove up to col camp, broke
his glasses, and had to return to base camp for another pair. Jack
Sack had come in to base camp for some news and we gratefully
received the mail and magazines that he brought to relieve our
boredom.
At last, on July 28 we saw Dave and Jitn advancing over the
west face to reoccupy high camp. Through the binoculars, we
could see them move cautiously but steadily up to the tiny tent.
Then on July 30, we saw them start for the summit. Leaving high
camp at 7 :15 they climbed upward for about three hundred feet.
But a wind of great violence was sweeping across the ridge; they
could perceive its strength even frorn the lee below and reluctantly
retreated to high camp. Clouds descended to cover Y erupaja almost completely that clay.
July 31: Alone at glacier camp I would often look up at the
west face of Yerupaja. The tents at glacier camp were lashed by
strong gusts from time to time. To the east, the great chain of
peaks and ice sheathed ridges was shrouded by a line of wind
driven clouds. My attention was fixed as I scanned the upper
ice-cliffs and precipices of Nevado Yerupaja, for there, far above me,
I saw Dave and Jim moving upward toward the summit ridge
and toward the clouds. The final bid for the summit was underway; the climbers were less than a thousand feet below their goal.
They continued upward and as they pushed their way up the
last ice pitch below the crest of the ridge, the clouds swept down
and swallowed them. Where before there had been two men, I
saw only swirling mists or at best the fleeting ghost of a fluted ice
slope. Every few minutes I would look out of the tent, but always
to be greeted by the same sight-above 20,000 feet only a gray
shroud. I knew that it hid Yerupaja, but what nwre I could only
guess.
Graham, "feeling like a tiger," was up fron1 base camp the
following morning. The clay brought no improvement in the cloud
level and though we looked often, we saw no sign of our companions either at or descending from high camp. We began to
fear that all had not gone well on the summit ridge.
[ 31 ]
All four of us were more or less ready for action. In the morning
we would go up to the glacier below the west face and see if we
could raise anyone at high camp by shouting. If not, two of us
would continue to col camp. Next day the col party would go on
up to high camp and display an orange flag if they needed more
aid.
Accordingly, the morning of August 2, Graham, Chuck, Austen,
and I climbed slowly onto the glacier. Fleeting clouds blown
across the top of the peak obscured high camp much of the time.
We shouted, were silent, and listened. The wind brought us no
answer. We peered through the binoculars at the tent above and
saw no motion. We noted new avalanche tracks across the face,
across the route between col and high camps, and we looked at the
fans of avalanche debris at the bottom of the face, scrutinized
each black speck, and saw nothing. No sign of our comrades.
We went further up the glacier and shouted again. This time
there was a reply-it sounded like Jim, at high camp. Though
muffied by the wind and indistinct it did not sound like a distress
signal. We rejoiced, yodeled back, and hastened up the glacier.
Two would go up to col camp anyway and perhaps higher next
day to find out what was happening above. We paused almost
directly under the high camp and shouted again. The wind was
quieter and there was no mistaking the cry which came down. It
was Dave; in a hoarse voice he was calling for help.
Action was imperative. One could not see high camp from col
camp and hence Chuck would stay where we were to see if anyone started down from above. Graham and I would spend the
night at col camp and ascend to high camp in the morning. Austen
would go up to col camp and keep hot tea brewing and be ready
to aid any exhausted people that might arrive.
(Right) YERUPAJA:
WEST FACE
l\{uch of the route is shown
(II)
EAST FACE OF YERUPAJA FROM THE SOUTH
(III) YERUPAJA: NORTHEAST FACE
(IV) JIRISHANCA (telephoto)
Courtesy of Americau AIJ•ine Club
[ 32]
Photos, A. F. Riggs
Clouds soon veiled most of Yerupaja and Chuck abandoned his
freezing vigil to descend to glacier camp. At the col, Graham,
Austen, and I conjectured as to what had happened above and
prepared an early supper. Suddenly there came the cry again"Help! Help! Help!" This time it was closer and more urgent-from
the route and about a thousand feet above us. Slowly and painfully Dave and Jim were descending. We hurriedly put on our
boots, filled a thermos with hot water and sugar, gathered our
climbing gear and set off up the slope. We met them about six
hunch·ed feet above camp and began to hear something of the
ordeal above.
Their feet had been frozen, yet they were carrying clown most
of high camp. Dave insisted, "We've got to get off the glacier tonight. If we ever take our boots off, we'll never get them back on."
But Jim said he could not reach glacier camp. Only an hour of
daylight remained. I descended to col camp with Jim, and Austen
and Graham escorted Dave back clown the glacier and broken rock
to glacier camp.
Dave and Jim had left high camp at about ten o'clock on the
morning of July 31. They postponed their start until this hour
waiting for the warmth of the sun-hopeful that they could, if
necessary, return to camp after sundown by the light of a full rnoon.
Dave and Jim climbed into the clouds, to the saddle. Here nature
had gone berserk. The giant cornice which draped out over the
western face had split the ice ridge in two. That is, along the crest
of the ridge or where the crest should have been was a crevasse
thirty to one hundred feet deep. Its lower end came out on the
west face just at the saddle. Dave and Jim stemmed clown ''<!bout
fifty feet into the crevasse and started north toward the summit.
Often the bottom of the crack was false and once Jim fell through
up to his chest. The crevasse ended after about three hundred feet
and they advanced, Dave leading, up over the gentle cornices.
Fresh snow lay on the ridge and both could tell that they were
going to suffer from frost-bitten toes. Then through the mists
loomed up a three hundred foot step in the ridge, a great rock
face with every conceivable hold plastered with thin ice and loose
snow. It was possible only because of a small rib at the extreme
left edge of the face.
It was now 3:00 in the afternoon. Prudence suggested a return
[ 37]
but they knew that the summit was not far above the step. They
climbed on. A foot placed too far to the left would break through
into thin air over the four thousand foot west face; a foot too far
to the right would slip in loose snow. It was interesting going.
The step passed; they pushed on. Near the summit the ridge
sharpened. On either side the slopes, here mostly of smooth ice
and jagged rock, fell off at sixty to seventy degrees. No giant
cornices could be supported here but the ridge was lined with
smaller ones.
They reached the summit of Nevada Yerupaja at about five
o'clock in the afternoon. The clouds cleared enough so that there
was no possible doubt; they could see the ridge fall off to the
north and to the south. One at a time they stood on the top.
A few pictures and they began the descent. A minute or two
from the summit, clouds and mountain to the south formed a
particularly striking view and Jim decided to photograph it. He
was joined by Dave on a narrow section of the ridge. Jim removed
his gloves, plunged his ice-axe into the snow, and was beginning
to straighten up when suddenly, rather quietly and without warning, Dave and a great section of ridge dropped from view. The
one hundred and twenty feet of %" nylon, neatly coiled between
them, began to spin clown the west face after Dave. Jim reached
and grabbed his ice-axe which was just on the edge of the break.
He took a few steps over the top of the ridge, drove in his axe,
and had flopped clown on his stomach, one hand on the axe and
the other buried in the snow when there came a violent jerk on
the rope, a pause-had the rope broken? -a second tug, and then
a thifcl. One more would have pulled Jim over the edge.
Dave had fallen free about fifty feet, then clown seventy degree
ice until he reached the end of the rope. The nylon had stretched,
then contracted, pulling Dave well back up the mountain side.
1
Again he fell; again the rope pulled him up and again clown.
Dave had escaped injury save for some painful chest bruises
sustained in the bombardment of ice blocks from the broken cornice, and was able to climb back up the rope a ways and then, using
his double axe technique, to regain the ridge in about forty-five
minutes.
1 All rope used on the expedition was supplied by the Plymouth Cordage Company of Massachusetts.
[ 38]
The descent continued in approaching darkness. Another
cornice gave way as Jim was testing it with his foot but nobody
joined it for the trip down. The snow rib was descended in near
darkness and they groped their way down the ridge at night. The
sky above Yerupaja was overcast and the moon gave but little light.
By midnight they were at the end of the crevasse, barely one hour
fron'l high camp, but in the darkness they had not the strength left
to descend safely. Maxwell found a small ice-cave in the crevasse.
They crawled in and removed their boots. Evidence of severe
frostbite was all too plain. 1
Next morning Dave and Jim emerged into the sunlight and
descended to high camp in an hour. Then a twenty-four hour
rest during which discussion often turned to how well one would
be able to climb with artificial feet. Seeing the rest of us below,
they managed once more to put on their boots and begin the
descent.
In three days Dave and Jim had been assisted to base camp,
mule transport to Chiquian had been secured, and Graham and
Jack Sack had hiked out to Chiquian in a day to arrange for taxi
transport to Lima. Chuck went out to Lima with Dave while Jim
remained in base camp to leave with the rest of the expedition.
Though infection was avoided, Dave lost all of his toes and
Jim parts of several. In spite of the high price paid for the conquest
of "Old Roundtop", the members of the Harvard Andean Expedition are without exception eager to return to the high Andes of
Peru at the earliest opportunity. Blessed by superb weather and a
friendly country, Peru's magnificent peaks should continue to lure
climbers into the dark valleys that lead up to them, up onto their
icy flanks, and with good fortune to their summits.
1 For a discussion of the cornice accident and the frostbite injury see:
American Alpine Club, Safety Report, 1951. For more information about
the climb see: Harrah, David, and Matthews, W. V. G., Up Yempaja,
American Alpine Journal, vol. 25, 1951.
[ 39]
1950 Report On The Southern Selkirks
by
s.
M.
ORNSTEIN
Released by the board
COSMIC VENTURES MCML
E
ARLY last spring John M. Sn1ith, Charles H. Bell and I decided to get together for some climbing in the Selkirks in August. By the ninth of August we had managed to assemble ourselves
and our gear at Glacier, British Columbia. Charlie and John had
already worl~ed out on Mts. Wilcox and Pinnacle in the Rockies,
and I had joined Bill Heybroek of Vancouver in a traverse of most
of the Asulkan ridge.
Nonetheless we climbed Mt. Swanzy, near Glacier, to make
sure that we were in step before turning to bigger things to the
south. We carried our tent as close to Sapphire col as our energy
permitted and on the 11th climbed Swanzy via the steep south
snow slopes. It was a walk all the way, involving only an hour
or so of step kicking and a short walk along nearly level snow to
the actual summit. We gobbled chocolate, cast an eager eye to our
prospective country southward, and headed down the slope in a
sticky glissade. Picking up our tent on the way, we returned to
Glacier where the following day was spent cramming a three
weeks' supply into our duffels.
About noon on the thirteenth we set out under mountainous
packs for Perley Rock near the tongue of the Illecillewaet neve.
Five hours later, near the edge of the glacier, we collapsed into our
tent. The next day, by an alternation of fifteen minute periods of
staggering and collapsing we pushed across the neve only to arrive
in the "meadows" of Glacier Circle in a downpour just as the sun
was disappearing. Our fate was settled.
So that no mountaineer will again have to endure what we endured that night, I have included a sketch which, it is hoped, will
aid others in locating the cabin on a similar occasion. There is also
now a trail, marked by scant cairns in the clearings and well marked
by red paint in the forest. If you can find it to the left at the foot
[ 40]
of the ledges, luck is with you. If not, plow through the forest,
cross the brook about two hundred yards above the lake, and go
into the clear ground of the boulders on the north side of the
moraine. At this point you can begin to make use of the sketch.
This will require a short bit of backtracking to get you to the
cabin, but it is probably the easiest way to find it for anyone not
thoroughly familiar with the area.
Sketch by T. 0. Nevison
GLACIER CIRCLE
Artist's conception of the location of the Glacier Circle Cabin.
'vV e pitched our tent beside the stream which Hooded in the
ensuing storm. After a night afloat, we waded over to the cabin,
which turned up two hundred yards away.
The 15th and 16th were spent unpacking and drying out. On
the 17th we started up the east ridge of Fox. The storm was over
and had left fresh snow on everything above eight thousand feet.
A dense fog descended about noon; an hour later we were on the
verge of turning around when the clouds parted momentarily,
revealing the summit a short bit above. We hurried up the last
[ 41
J
two hundred feet, ate a quick lunch on top, and started down. The
ascent had taken nine hours and was considerably slowed by the
difficulty presented by the fresh snow. Vl e had time for a short
stop on the lower ridge, where it cleared gloriously just before
sunset.
The next clay we carried camp up the Deville chimney and
across the upper glacier to the southeast slopes of Selwyn. We
avvoke at three A.M. on the 18th to a spectacular display of aurora.
By four we were on our way up the east ridge of Selwyn. The early
part was easy, and we paused to take many pictures as the sun rose
over Topham. Gradually the ridge steepened, and we had some
fine rock climbing just below the summit, which we reached at
eight o'clock.
The clay was perfect and the view superb. To the south, the
Purity range stretched out beyond the nearby Bishops. In the distance, the Battle range presented an inviting facade. On the horizon we could barely discern the ominous black outlines of the
Bugaboos. Charlie pointed out peaks in the Rockies from Assiniboine to Clemenceau. To the west the flat \~'edge of Hasler, our
next goal, rose slightly above us.
After an hour we set off. We had to descend onto the broad
col and thence across snow slopes up to a bergschrund below the
summit. At this point we nearly crucified Charlie for running out
of film. We had intended to cross at a snow bridge, but found an
easier route to the left where the schrund ended abruptly at the
south face. A short traverse on steep snow brought us to the rocks
of the south ridge which we roughly followed to the summit.
Another hour of basking in the sun, and we headed down. We
glissaded to the schrund, jumped it, and instead of returning to
our tent, followed a long snow rib clown onto the Fox glacier. From
there we descended the lower part of the Fox ridge into the
Circle.
The next clay we packed the rest of our supplies up to high
camp, and on the 21st we trudged around the east end of the Bishops
and up to the Wheeler-Kilpatrick col. The view of the now nearby
Battles caused much shutter-clicking, after which we turned to
our objective, Mt. Kilpatrick. The route was very simple, leading
up over long snow slopes to the base of the summit pyramid,
across a delicate snow bridge and onto the north ridge to the
summit.
[ 42]
Photo, C. H. Bell
NORTH RIDGE OF KILPATRICK
Summit is on the left
Another perfect day greeted us, and while John and I snoozed,
Charlie gave the camera more exercise. We basked in the sun
for over three hours before turning back down the ridge. Nearing
camp, son1e oversized grizzly tracks caused us concern, but a careful perusal with the binoculars showed that our camp hadn't been
touched.
We went to sleep that night with fond thoughts of a rest day
on the morrow, but little suspecting that our climbing was virtually
over. The following morning we discovered that the gasoline was
nearly gone. Vle had sorely misjudged the amount necessary and
the loss from evaporation. At any rate there was nothing to do
but to start out. A single happy note was struck when Charlie
pointed out that we could begin to demolish the eleven clays' supply
of food which we had left. Suffice it to say that several hours later,
as we lay on our cots in the Circle cabin, our faces exhibited various
colorful shades of green. The next clay it rained. Three more
clays' food went.
[ 43]
1.
Finally on the 25th the weather cleared, and we started out.
About two hundred yards from the cabin, however, John crashed
over a slippery log and seriously sprained his ankle. VVe returned
to the cabin where we had to revert to a starvation diet once more
for a couple of clays. As John's ankle was improving slowly, we
finally decided that Charlie and I should go out to Glacier with
the major portion of the equipment and return with more food.
On the 27th we set out in a drizzle and slowly climbed up the
ledges into the mist. Shortly after we got onto the neve, the sky
blew clear; and we clashed home to Glacier. After a clay of rest,
"Raymond", a Swiss boy who was working for the ranger, offered
to go back with me to bring John out. Noel Gardner, the ranger,
was most considerate and helpful in letting him go.
Raymond and I made it across the neve in record time, arriving
at the ledges just before noon. John was glad to see us, but his
ankle wasn't mended enough for the trip out. The next clay, therefore, Raymond and I climbed Mt. Wheeler and returned, in a
state of collapse, to the Circle. On the 31st John's ankle was better
and we made the trip as far as Perley Rock. The next morning we
met Charlie back at Glacier. While we were gone, he had climbed
Mt. Rogers in the Hermit range with Ken Boucher of the A.C.C.
Finally, after some celebrating that night, we set off on the train
the next day for Lake Louise and home.
[ 46]
June Tetons, 1949
by
CHARLES
H.
BELL
ANDY Ornstein, Bud King, and I left Cambridge late on the
afternoon of June 11, 1949, bound for the Tetons of western
Wyoming. ~Tith one stop at Des Moines, where we camped in the
rain on the State House lawn waiting for Ed Cammack to join us,
continuous driving brought us to Jenny Lake early on the rnorning
of the 14th. We unrolled our sleeping bags and spent the rest of the
clay recuperating from the effects of our trip.
Our first objective was to be Teewinot, which, we hoped, would
serve as a conditioning climb for bigger things later on. As we
scanned the mountain from Jenny Lake, it seemed obvious that almost any route we wanted to take would go, so we eschewed the
snowslope recommended by the guidebook in favor of the rocky
East Face, which looked as though it would afford more interesting
climbing. By the time we were halfway up the rnountain it began
to occur to us that what we had taken for an East Face was actually
an East Ridge, and one which provided much delightful but timeconsuming rock work. We stopped for lunch at 2:30, gazed at the
summit towers still high above us, and decided we weren't going to
make it in time; so, after immortalizing ourselves on film in heroic
poses, we slunk back to camp.
On the 16th we shouldered our packs and headed up the trail to
Garnet Canyon, intending to make an attempt on Grand. Discrepancies in the physical condition of the members of the party became
obvious as Randy and Bud leapt happily frorn rock to rock, while Ed
and I crawled behind, searching desperately through our packs to
see if we hadn't brought a couple of extra toothbrushes which could
be discarded. At nightfall we hewed out a spectacular tent platform
well below the Lower Saddle, and cooked dinner in our tents because
of the high wind outside.
At 5 o'clock the next morning it was raining. We turned over in
our sacks and waited, but at six it was raining harder. The rain must
have stopped during the morning, for when I awoke again at noon
the sun was shining halfheartedly. But Grand was out of the ques-
R
[ 47]
Photo) Tom J.Vevison
THE CATHEDRAL GROUP, TETON RANGE
tion for that day, and we didn't have food to last another, so we headeel clown, caching one tent and some equipment for our return.
Buddy King left for Alaska early the following morning, and
Randy, Ed, and I loafed at Jenny Lake till noon, when we took a
boat across the lake to the base of Storm and Icicle Points, two minor
summits just north of Cascade Canyon. Proceeding up the Canyon
trail, and thence up a long gully, we reached the high col between
the two peaks at 5 :30 in the afternoon, to find ourselves confronted
with masses of nasty weather approaching from the vV est. We prudently, and hastily, withdrew.
Poor weather prevented any climbing the next clay, so vve spent our
[ 481
time purchasing supplies and wandering about the Jenny Lake Museum, which is plastered with warnings to mountaineers: "When
the weather looks bad, or night is coming on, it is more c9,urageous
to say 'Let's turn back' than 'We can make it yet'". We decided
that if courage consisted of turning back, we must be one of the
most courageous parties that ever hit the T etons.
By this time, however, we were becoming a bit impatient, and determined to reach some summit, any summit, before we left Wyoming. With this in mind, we took food for several days up the trail and
made camp in a delightful green oasis amid the snow of the South
Fork of Gar11et Canyon. Luck was finally with us, for the next day
dawned without a cloud. We made the ascent of Middle by the
snow-filled couloir on the South side, which was hard and icy in the
early morning. We spent half an hour on the summit, enjoying the
awesome view of Grand and examining the route by which we
hoped to climb it; then descended and proceeded to South Teton,
which proved no problem. Descending the latter via the northern
snowslopes, we found to our disgust that the midafternoon sun had
rendered the snow soft, sticky, and generally uncooperative, ruining
a splendid potential glissade. An hour of floundering about and extricating ourselves from holes in the snow saw us back at camp in
time to bask in the sun for a while before dinner.
Vle spent the next morning wandering about the North Face
of Nez Perce, alternately losing and finding the route, piqued by a
gale which attempted without success to blow us off the mountain.
First we went too low, then we went too high, and finally we scrambled over a couple of overhangs and found ourselves, somewhat to
our surprise, on the summit shortly before noon. Returning without
incident to the Canyon in the afternoon, we decamped and dropped
back down to Jenny Lake.
Randy and Eel embarked the next day on a renewed attempt on
Storm and Icicle, while I limped along the Cascade Canyon trail,
nursing a Bramani"battered toe. They sttcceeded in reaching both
summits; I succeeded in losing my camera somewhere along the
trail.
r 49 1
On the 24th we took our gear up the trail again, this time to Amphitheater Lake, where we encamped in the shadow of Grand.
Sitting around the campfire that evening, we watched the sky with
misgivings as fierce winds tore the clouds to pieces; but at dawn all
was calm, so we set off across the Teton Glacier for Mt. Owen. We
soon reached the steep couloir beside the minor summit known as
East Prong, and found it still in shade. A chilly hour of crampons
and step-chopping brought us to the East Ridge, which we followed
through numerous obstacles (including a waterfall under which the
belayer had to stand) until we reached the great snow shelf which
spans the Southeast Face. Crossing the snow to the South Ridge, we
scrambled up a few ropelengths of rock to the summit.
Back at camp that evening, we were just finishing supper when
we were joined by a party of Yale boys, led by Zach Stewart, who
had just come up from Jenny Lake. The two parties spent the next
clay peering at each other through the rain from their respective tents.
On the 27th Zach joined our party in the ascent of Teepee's Pillar,
a rock spire on the side of Grand, which just reaches 12,000 feet in
altitude and stands perhaps 1500 feet above its base. The party left
camp at 7:30 and climbed a long snow couloir leading to the tiny
Teepee Glacier, which clings precariously to the face of Grand, and
from which the Pillar rises. After one false start we found the route,
which we followed thereafter without difficulty because there was no
place else to go. This is one of Teepee's virtues; it is a totally unambiguous mountain. The climb proved a long succession of interesting and sometimes highly exposed rock pitches, and it was well after
three when we finally reached the summit. Two long rappels facilitated the descent, but when we arrived back at the couloir, we found
we had overstayed our leave; the snow had hardened again in the
evening. Zach essayed a glissade, with uncomfortable results, and
the rest of us were forced to mince timidly clown the steps we had
made in the morning.
We returned to Jenny Lake the next clay for supplies, while the
Yale boys moved their camp to Garnet Canyon for an attempt on
Grand.
[50]
The 29th found us back in Garnet Canyon, where we met the
Yale party coming down from Grand. They had been defeated by
storm~ and ice high on the West Face, and advised us to camp low
in order to allow the sun to melt some of the ice on the face before
we attempted the climb. We camped accordingly, not on the Lower
Saddle, but on the floor of the Canyon.
Photo, C. H. Bell
CAl\IP IN NORTH FORK OF GARNET CANYON
At 5 the next morning the weather looked dubious, but by 7 :30 it
had cleared enough so that the three of us agreed it was worth a try.
A snow trek as far as the Lower Saddle ( 11,500 ft.) and then a steep
scramble over snow and rock brought us to the real beginning of the
climb. Here, at the Upper Saddle, we roped up and prepared to
tackle the 750-foot sheer West Face. We climbed in a rather curious
manner: I, the third man, carried a copy of Coulter and McLane's
Guide to the Tetons, which contains a description of the route from
[ 51 ]
CourlcSJ' of Appalachia
Photo, J. D. Le'wis
WEST PEAK AND SU?I£MIT OF GRAND TETON FROM LOWER SADDLE (MARCH)
handhold to handhold. Before each pitch I would haul out the book
and quote Authority. This method proved highly successful, and
the climb a simple one compared to Teepee's Pillar. Our only difficulty was encountered in the Owen Chimney, which was clogged
with ice and proved an extremely slippery place, especially for the
leader. We reached the summit at twenty minutes to four, to find
ominous clouds approaching from the West. We scurried back
clown, avoiding the Chimney by a long rappel, and were overjoyed,
on reaching the Lower Saclclle, to discover that we had finally managed to hit a snowslope at the right time of clay. One long, swift
glissade brought us back to camp, and after a short meal we headed
clown the trail for the last time to Jenny Lake.
We left the Tetons the next clay, well satisfied with our record of
eight climbs, all of them (except Grand) first ascents of the season.
\Ve decided that June is perhaps the best time of all to visit the Tetons, before the crowds get there, and while there is still enough
snow to provide pleasantly varied climbing.
[52]
Courtesy of Appa/acliia
Plioto, !. D. Lewis
FINAL PITCH BELOW THE SUMMIT OF THE GRAND TETON (MARCH)
r53 J
Vancouver Revisited
by RoBERT S. McCARTER
N a cold, windy day in late August, 1948, John Ross and I
made our way with heavy loads from Camp I to the col of Mt.
Vancouver's north ridge. There we made a cache of all our leftover supplies, placed a marker stick, and returned to strike Camp I.
So ended the unsuccessful attempt of Mt. Vancouver.
It was a similar day in June, 1949, when Bill Hainsworth and
I scrambled up the rocks to the col. There was the marker. After
prying loose the frozen rocks, we uncovered all the food, and prepared to move it up to Camp II on the ridge. Our plan of attack
was the same as the previous year, only our climbing party had
changed. Now we had six: Walter Wood, leader of the Arctic
Institute's expedition; Peter Wood, his son; Noel Odell of Everest
fame; Alan Bruce-Robertson, a Canadian and our medic; Bill
Hainsworth; and myself.
We decided, after the previous year's experience, that a high
camp would be needed between Institute Peak and the summit.
We would parachute supplies for Camp I in the cirque below the
north ridge, then establish Camp II on the ridge. Camp III would
be parachuted behind Institute Peale The two drops went off very
well, and on June 28th we left base camp for Camp I in the cirque.
We had hardly established Camp I when the weather socked in.
Rather than use up valuable supplies, Walter and Bill returned
to base camp in order to drop another load if the weather remained
bad, which it did. On the 30th, after making another drop, they
returned to Camp I. Walter became sick during the trip from
fumes leaking from a five gallon can of gas he was packing. At
Camp I, Pete was troubled by a finger which had previously been
smashed. The cut should have been stitched, but we had no facilities to do it. At this stage Walter and Pete made the difficult
decision to return to base camp rather than take the chance of
holding back the party.
The four remaining members continued to push up the ridge.
Climbing conditions in general were better than in the previous
year. The warmer sun resulted in less blue ice, and we were able
0
[54]
to negotiate pitches on crampons that in 1948 had necessitated step
cutting. There was only one long pitch below Camp II, about 300
feet long and at a 45 degree angle. Noel and I cut steps up this
and established a fixed rope to facilitate relaying loads. By 7:00
P.M. we had pitched camp II in a little hollow on the ridge at
around 11,000'.
We awoke the next morning to find the weather socked in.
Noel and I roped up at noon to reconnoiter a route around the
long ice pitch that was a few hundred feet above us. This pitch
caused us much time and trouble in 1948, so we hoped to discover
a route which would flank it. Bill and Bruce descended to the
lower pitch to retrieve the fixed rope, in case we had to climb the
pitch. vV e spent most of the afternoon skirting crevasses and
floundering in deep snow, and found that there was no alternative
but to climb the pitch. On the vvay back to Camp II we met the
others who had left the fixed rope at the foot of the pitch, and
together we made our way down the ridge in the face of a high
wind and blowing snow.
The next morning we were up at seven and, after breakfast,
donned crampons and roped up. The pitch above Camp II proved
less difficult than anticipated. We had spent three hours cutting
steps in blue ice the previous year, but this year there fortunately
was a band of wind-packed snow where we could kick steps.
The fixed rope was secured to a bunch of willow wands to facilitate
our return trip from Camp III with heavy loads, and we continued
upwards. Just above we encountered a few hundred feet of hard
windblown snow formation, like waves on a sand beach. It was
a pleasure to walk on wind crust for a change, instead of ice or
deep powder snow. We encountered one more steep pitch, but
were able to kick steps up it. Further on the ridge blended into the
flank of Institute Peak, which gave us a grand view of the summit, still some five miles distant. We were skirting the flank of
Institute Peak by 6 :00 P.M., and beginning to wonder when we
would spy the drop box. Here we encountered the coldest powder
snow in my experience: my boots were completely stiff, and Bill's
feet were becoming numb. A few hundred yards from the ridge,
between Institute Peak and the summit, we saw a corner of the
box. The parachute and most of the box were buried under snow.
Camp III was established on a 35 degree slope which necessitated
[55]
much digging and leveling. By 8:30 we were cooking dinner and
melting frozen socks and inner soles out of the boots.
July 4th started out to be another miserable day, but by noon
the clouds had lifted. It was too late to think in terms of the
summit, so we climbed Institute Peak, about 500' above us. From
there we could look down onto base camp, and had an unparalleled
view of the St. Elias Range. During the afternoon, the Norseman
airplane paid us a visit. Walter had expected that we would be
climbing the summit, but, after a little delay, they spotted us on
Institute Peale After soaking up the sun and admiring the view
for an hour, we glissaded back to Camp III and cooked up a stupendous meal from the new rations.
We were up at sunrise on the 5th. It is impossible to tell what
· Alaskan weather for the day will be like before 9 :00 A.M., but
this morning looked bright and clear, except for a cap cloud over
the summit of Mt. Vancouver. This was the day. We were ploughing through powder snow by 7 :00, and soon reached the ridge connecting Institute Peak and the main summit. By 9 :00 we passed
the high point of the 1948 expedition, and by 10 :30 reached the
high saddle at the base of the summit massif. We stopped for a
second breakfast. The ridge above was obscured by the cloud and
windblown snow, but the weather everywhere else in the range
was clear. We stuck close to the ridge, climbing with two ropes
and alternating step kicking. After a couple of hours of this the
cloud suddenly opened. There appeared before us a solid buttress
of ice. How to tackle it? The right hand side was a steep ice
wall; the left hand side was an unknown jumble of seracs, crevasses
and treacherous snow. Then the cloud closed in again, and we
could see nothing more. We called a quick huddle and decided the
wisest route would be up the ice face. We knew it would go,
whereas the other route was extremely doubtful. The pitch, which
at the top reached a good sixty degrees, consumed two hours of
tedious step cutting. Once above it, we gained the base of the
(Right) i\IOUNT VANCOUVER FROl\I ABOVE THE
SEWARD GLACIER SHOWING ROUTE
Courtesy of American Alpine Club
[56]
Photo, W. A. Wood
C)
z
0
z
<(
_J
summit pyramid. The visibility was zero and the wind strong.
We stuck to the ridge for another hour until Bruce yelled that it
no longer rose ahead of him. The summit was a razor edge of
snow. We dropped down a few feet to get out of the wind, took
pictures of ourselves, as we couldn't see anything else, and fifteen
minutes later started down. It was too cold to stay around any
longer.
The ascent had taken nine hours; the descent took about four.
Hardly had we reached the high saddle when the summit cloud
disappeared completely. If it only could have cleared two hours
earlier! The trip from the high saddle to Camp III was one of the
most tiring I have ever experienced, especially because we had to
drop down and later gain back a few hundred feet. Bill swears
he fell asleep on his feet while resting before tackling a crevasse
whose upper lip was five feet higher than the lower lip. Everyone
was completely bushed when we reached Camp III. We were
forced to lose 800' at one point and had to traverse two miles
through powder snow that at times was waist deep, though the
summit was only 3,000' above this 13,000' camp. Upon our return,
we crawled into our sleeping bags, heated up some soup, and called
it a day.
The next morning we struck high camp, abandoning just the
food and gas, and descended to Camp II, which we reached around
4 :00 P.M. VIe had some hot tea, struck Camp II, and left for Camp
I in the cirque. The steep pitch below Camp II was extremely
treacherous from the warm sun, and I, for one, was very happy to
get it behind. Bill and I arrived at Camp I about 8 :00 P.M., but
the other two were delayed because Bruce had stabbed himself with
a crampon while jumping over a small crevasse. The wound was
not serious, but was extremely painful.
The morning of the 7th Bill and I loaded most of the equip-
(Above) NORTH RIDGE
Position of Camp II marked by dot
Photo, W. A. Wood
(Below) WEST OF THE RIDGE
J\Iount Cook in background
Courtesy of American Alj>ine Club
Photo, W. R. Hainsworth
[59]
ment into a drop box and started to tow it clown the snow couloir
to the Seward glacier. The effort became frustrating around H:00
A.M. when the sun softened up the snow so that the box wouldn't
slide clown the 30 degree couloir. We tied it to a rock outcropping,
and glissaded clown to our skis at the foot of the couloir. By 10:30
we were sitting at base camp and consuming a mixture concocted
by Bill, the basic ingredient of which vvas Kentucky Tavern.
The success of a climb like Mt. Vancouver is based directly on
long range planning of supplies. An expedition must be prepared
to spend up to a week at any camp because of the weather factor.
One cannot safely climb a major Alaskan mountain on a shoestring.
We learned the necessity of abundant supplies frorn the 194H attempt. The shortage of supplies was one of the main causes of
our failure. Walter W oocl saw to it that the 1949 climb had enough
supplies to sustain at least a three week assault. vVe saved valuable
time and effort by organizing the high drop load to include all
items needed at high camp. It was unfortunate that the man who
had planned the clitnb clown to the last chocolate bar should have
become sick from carrying extra gas to Camp I. But, while he
did not tnake the climb, it was Walter's organizational work which
made the climb possible.
(Above) ODELL AND McCARTER AT CAJ\IP II
(Below) CRACK IN SEWARD GLACIER NEAR AUGUSTA
Pllotos, W. R. Haillsworl/1
Courtesy of America11 AIPille Club
[GO
I
The Granite Range
by
DAviD MrcHAEL
T
HE boys at forty-mile survey camp were a God-send to us.
Bernie had offered us the services of his truck in hauling our
tons of equipment from Golden all the mosquito-infested way to
Swan Creek, some sixty miles north along the Big Bend highway.
In addition we were feted royally, and luxuriously provided with
mosquito resistant tents for the night. We were five in number:
Andy and Betty Kaufmann, Norman Brewster, Alec Faberge, and
myself. After an evening of survey stories, we hastily made up
loads for the trip and then spent the next few hours throwing
away pounds. Intentions were to do great things to Mt. Adamant,
second in the Northern Selkirks only to Sir Sanford. And Mt.
Adamant demands great things: it required the equivalent of
three ascents just to locate the route.
The next morning was packed with thrills beginning with a
flying spin over twisted miles of Royal Canadian Highway No. 1
with one of His Majesty's best at the controls. Somehow we made
it to Swan Creek. It was cold and drizzling and frightfully early
in typical expedition tradition. The Colossal Vessel No. 2 was
launched, loaded, and ferrying operations carried on across the
wide and speedy-ten miles per hour here-Columbia River. By
now we were beginning to feel the bite of the Bush River mos·quito, with nothing like the immensity we could have ever imagined.
We learned later from Pete Bergenham, packer for Palmer in
1912, that this was the worst season in fifty years in a region ordinarily equal to Alaska for its mosquitos. In fact there were no bears
ADAMANT GROUP
Above:
Looking south from Observatory Peak.
Left to right:
Adamant (with its three summits), Turret, and Austerity
Rclow:
Looking north from Azimuth Col across Adamant Glacier.
Left to Right:
Turret, Adamant, unnamed spire, and Pioneer
Courtesy of American Alpine Club
Pilolos, A. Wexler
[ 63]
in the region: they couldn't take it. V\1 e drowned ourselves in rcpellant of four different kinds; the bugs seemed to thrive on it.
Everyone was pomegranite complexioned within the first few
hours.
As on most trips into back country, the worst mountaineering
hazards were encountered on the approaches, namely the brush.
It would be needless to go into all the various and massed combinations of Devils Club, slide alder, windfall, burned timber, second
growth, and swift streams which we met. It took two and a half
days to walk eight miles and to build camp. Certainly whoever
named Fairy Meadow had done the same. This lovely alpine
meadow tucked away behind the moraine of Granite Glacier,
open from brush and relatively devoid of mosquitos, was indeed a
haven. We felt like living once more and even like climbing.
The main objective was Mt. Adamant. Howard Palmer made
the first ascent from the south by means of a long couloir; we wanted to find something up the north side. There seemed to be three
alternatives: Andy had ideas on the east shoulder, very long, broken
by two ar2tes, but apparently straightforward; Sterling Hendricks
had proposed a route up the Central Glacier, extremely chopped
up and apparently dangerous since almost every point was threatened by icefall from above; and the Turret Glacier up the north
face, pronounced impossible. We decided on the east shoulder.
In the best Swiss style, we were off at four A.M., scrambling
over the dark and chilled moraine and up long, crusted slopes.
The glacial approach turned out to have many very steep pitches,
and as the sun began to loosen up the snow we began to wonder
about it. Norman, the snow specialist, because of the years he has
spent in this region, pronounced everything O.K. Everything, that
is, save two giant, bowed seracs overhanging a section of the route
and from which little things kept coming. Hopes ran high as we
reached the seracs and the angle appeared to level off for the remaining stretch of the ridge. Andy mumbled something about
a hole. It turned out to be quite a hole. We couldn't figure it
out. Norman and Alec ventured into the crevasse and worked
out to the right where there was an open slope; meanwhile I belayed Andy in an attempt to climb the only place in the far wall
that was not overhanging. Both tries failed. The decision was
that there must be some other way-on some other route.
[ 64]
Photo, A. J. Kauffmau, II
Courtesy of Appalachia
UNNAJ\IED PEAK, ADAMANT, TURRET, AND IRONMAN FROM
THE GRANITE GLACIER
I
Phofo 1 A. J. Ka~tffnulll, I I
Courtes3• of Appalachia
SERACS ON ADAl\IANT
Instead of going home, we angled down and went over to
take a look at a thing between Adamant and Pioneer Peak called
the Gothic Spire. After several hours of steep snow, we came into
a small bowl at the base of the only approach to this rounded
shingle. Our morale went to an all-time low. The peak looks very
difficult from all sides, but within the realm of possibilities once
on the rock ridge. But again there was a big hole, and the biggest
bergschrund I have ever seen. Unbroken and gaping, it completely
cut off the base. We went on home full of respect for these glaciers,
so small in size, so large in stature.
The only alternative now seemed to be Hendricks' route, but
early the next morning as we skittered over the frozen sun holes
of the approach, we decided that the inherent dangers were a little
too great, and that perhaps to try Austerity and take a look at the
north face of Adamant would be of advantage. The immediate
problem on Austerity, again, was the snow: at first deep, steep,
and soggy from the hot sun; then loosely overlying ice on a long
slope which required step chopping from the bergschrund to Ironman, a subsidiary summit of Austerity. The Austerity ridge seemed
very impressive as afternoon clouds and Bat light obscured indications of the angle from us, but as it turned out, the whole ridge did
not contain any real difficulties.
It was good to get on top of something after the previous day's
setbacks, and although it was not too pleasant because of the wind,
we spent some time looking over at Adamant and prospective
routes. The neighborly west face of the two Blackfriars was most
imposing with its sheer granite drop of 2500 feet. Brooding Sir
Sanford, shrouded in clouds, refused to reveal itself. The fun of
the clay came in a little problem of getting off Ironman clown an
ice gully on the north side. Although not difficult, we managed
to get into an amazing mess and tanglement of ropes and spent
much time yelling and thrashing about. We spent the next clay
in camp devising better means of outfoxing the mosquitos so that
we might get at least one good night's sleep.
It seemed to me that we were getting up earlier and earlier,
and the day of the third attempt found us making a gallant
try at clehyclratecl eggs at 2 A.M. Breakfast was predestined to
failure and we set out too sleepy to know whether or not we were
hun'gry. As we gained the glacier with the approach of dawn, we
[ 66]
CourteSJ' of AjJjJa/achia
Photo, A. J. Kauffman, II
ADAMANT, GOTHIC SPIRE, PIONEER PEAK, EAST GOTHIC,
AND GARGOYLE FROM ADAJ\IANT GLACIER
I
J
Photo, A. J. Kauffman,
Courtesy of Appalachia
THE TURRET GLACIER
l[
could see wind clouds moving over the summits at a fantastic
rate. However we continued our way up through the maze of
crevasses on the Turret Glacier and eventually up to the gigantic,
overhanging mass of snow couched above the Turret bergschrund.
Here we were well into the wind with winter conditions as clouds
of cold ice crystals blew over a fairly solid crust. We were indeed
awed by the north face; prospects seemed almost nonextant. About
100 feet above the glacier there was a triangular shaped patch of
frozen snow and above that the face appeared broken but steep,
with all the ledges covered with ice and snow. The immediate
task was to find access to the triangle.
Norman led out and chiseled his way across the 'schrund, up
to a narrow gully, and drove in the small timber we had brought
for the occasion. Bringing up the others, he threaded his way up
this chocked and crowded channel, through a letterbox, around
sharp ridges which forced him onto the face-which offered little
help. Fortunately this opened to the triangle, and steps were
chopped up to the apex where the main rock route was to begin.
This appeared to lead up to a ledge that traversed up to the left
giving a lead to the ridge of the north shoulder. By this time the
wind and the cold had become discouraging and the exposure demanded a survey of the situation. Without crampons or any sort
of adequate belay points, we decided to retreat and to return with
crampons in better weather.
Unfortunately at this point Norman had to return to work and
Betty volunteered to go out with him. About dawn we bade them
farewell; they departed downward as we prepared to go up for
another attempt on Adamant. Alec did not feel up to it that day,
so Andy and I set out at a rapid pace and, aided greatly by the
steps kicked the previous day which were still in good condition,
we reached the top of the previous attempt quickly and safely.
From here on there was a mixture of ice and rock. We climbed
with crampons. The route was tricky enough without continuously stubbing points and being denied just the needed toeholds.
After zig-zagging slowly upward, the delusively termed ledge
was reached. Since this ledge is hidden from the glacier, we
didn't know where it would come out with relation to the two
gendarmes that were, however, most obvious from below. The
leads could not be safely extended for any great length because of
[ 68]
the exposure, and consequently movement was very slow. Crampons and outward sloping smooth rocks and a paucity of piton
cracks did not speed matters. Although there were quantities of
little ledges sprinkled over the face, the main granite mass was
amazingly intact and handholds were further reduced by the water
and ice on the rocks.
Eventually the west ridge was reached-much to our dismay
we were below both gendarmes. Andy led into the first, a back
breaker. Both pitches were slightly overhanging in the approach
but made possible by chinning tactics on a lower flake, and above
by an awkward, scrambled chimney. The next gendarme was not
nearly so complicated, and the remainder of the trip was a cagy
snow pull given zest because it lay thinly over ice.
The day had been one of those rare beauties in the mountains:
crystal clear, warm, not a breath of wind. The summit was a grand
place and we lingered, ate, and looked for an hour. Sir Sanford
was grand and all of the Rockies stood clear; even such distant
peaks as Robson, Sir Donald, and the Bugaboos stood out. After
constructing the proper Colossal Cairn on the few remaining
Palmer stones, we hustled off.
Our main objective accomplished, we decided to do a little exploration by way of going over to Mt. Edfalls, about 10 miles
north of Fairy Meadow. We saddled up and spent long hours plodding across mushy glaciers and with an extra pull went up the
long slope of Mt. Sir William. After a long day and much debating on routes, we camped in a delightful nook on the side of
a moraine northeast of Mt. Edfalls. This is all metamorphosed sedimentary country, and the next day's scramble on the lower slopes
of Edfalls was dirty and tiring. This tricky little mountain used all
the optical illusions it could think of; we could never decide at
any time on the way up what was the summit, nor how our route
should be altered to get around illusive and horrible looking gendarmes. Avoiding several mistakes by accident, we set to work on
the highest thing around. The whole peak seemed ready to fall.
The holds were rotten if they held at all and the route was all on
the south face, just over a very deep overhang. Dodging rocks,
much time was spent cleaning out a route here until we noticed
the true summit off to our right, some thirty feet higher, and a
straight walk from the lower col. Upon reaching it we made com-
[ 69
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:::::
c
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-:;
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pass readings as Alec plotted the range, and there was much geographical debating as to whether this or either of two other peaks
was Mt. Edfalls. There came a time, however, when we had to
head toward home, and it was a long, wet tromp.
Our next move was to return to granite, beginning with Mt.
Sir Benjamin. We spent a hot day with the long pull up to the
Gothics Neve and miles of wandering over this snow desert. We
rapidly ascended Sir Benjamin with a minimum of difficulties
by means of an eastward glacial and cornice approach. 'vV e were
more impressed by the aiguilles of the other three sumrnits as
well as a neighboring pair, than by the one we were on. In the
afternoon we made a careful reconnaissance of Gibraltar, but decided that it would be a tough bolt job on its steep, almost unbroken
face.
The good weather was wearing us out; a nwratorium was
declared. We sat in the sun and discussed probable fates of one
Jerry Cunningham and his plans to come in to Fairy Meadow,
for he was now much overdue. Suddenly there were people, and
the Cunninghams and Schwartzs were here. The story unwound:
they had spent seven days packing up Swan Creek and had the
mosquito bites to prove it!
The only unclimbed peak around the Gothics snowfield other
than Gibraltar, its satellites, and the other peaks of Sir Benjamin,
was an awkwardly situated thumb named the Far Eastern Peak
of the Gothics (since it was east of the East Peak). We affectionately called it the Gargoyle. Alec and I had spent some time
trying to push a route over the bergschrund on the east side in
several places-all to no avail. 'vVandering around a corner and
up a feldspar intrusion there seemed to be some route on .the north
side-worth keeping in mind.
We decided to spend the three days remaining after Sir Benjamin with a trip to Azimuth Mt., taking in Gargoyle, Belvedere,
and hoping against luck on the Little Blackfriar. With heavy
packs, we again beat the long way up to the Gothics Neve, and
four miles across to the south corner. Leaving the loads at Thor
Pass, we went around to the west side of Gargoyle and traversed
along the intrusions to the north face. The major aggravation here
was to cross a crystallized band. The holds would not stay put,
and all the protrusions were very sharp. About thirty feet of this
[ 71 ]
Courtesy of Appalachia
Photo, A. J. Kauffman, II
MOUNT SIR BENJAMIN FROM GOTHIC NEVE
Courtesy of Appalachia
Photo, A. J. Kauffman, II
ICE CLIFF ON TURRET FROM ADAMANT
was no help to the nerves, and at that, the regained granite had
increased its angle sharply. The face was well broken, however,
offering many routes, and although we could see only a short
distance ahead, we came out only twenty feet from the summit.
It was not a very nice place to be, because of the wind, so we got
out hastily after constructing the required cairn.
The south side of Thor Pass is a messy place and requires some
thought and effort in going over it safely. Jamtned and cluttered
with rocks and dirt at a neat angle, almost every footstep is followed by a small avalanche of junk. Beyond was the swamp of
the Adamant Glacier, loaded with surface meltage in its hot basin.
The other side of Azimuth was covered with alpine flowers and
heather, pretty to look at, murder to walk on. Wandering around
for some time, we located the 1948 Colossal Camp Spot at just about
the right time. A camper's dream, it was ideally fitted out with
a distant trickle of water, heather choked moraine on the only
level spot, rare firewood, and mosquitos. \Vere it not for the magnificance of Sir Sanford sitting across its retreating glaciers, all
nwrale would have sunk in fatigue.
Getting off fairly early next morning in worsening weather,
we headed toward the Little Blackfriar whose summit appeared
in suitable dignity from any approach. The logical route was to
go over Mt. Belvedere and continue along a snow ridge to the west
rocks of the Blackfriar. The weather grew more stale the higher
we climbed on Belvedere and by the time the summit was attained,
the sun had long been gone, a fine mist in the wind made everything feel clamp and cold, and the rocks on the Blackfriar were
wet. We decided to go home and prepare for the next day's trip
through the brush.
The trip out was speeded by the trail-clearing work of Cunningham and company, but there were just as many mosquitos
to chew on us. After another thrilling spin across the Columbia,
we were out, into civilization. This time we could see the Adamants; it had been fun.
[ 73]
Two Sun'lmers in the Wind Rivers
by H.
ADAl\1S CARTER
In 1949, Bob Bates, John and Ann Case, Waldo and Ruth Holcombe, my wife Anne, and I made a flying trip to the Wind River
Range, Wyoming, where none of us had climbed before. It was a
summer of nearly climbed peaks. On the first day we were turned
back by a thunderstorm less than two rope-lengths fron1 the summit
of Woodrow Wilson. Our next climb was to be an easy day for the
ladies. We mistakenly tried the east ridge of Sphinx which we
abandoned at the foot of the big Gendarme to the relief of us all.
Next we tried the west ridge of Koven in so high a wind that we
did not dare to traverse out onto the face. The almost vertical ridge
was too much for us. A climb of Sphinx via the ordinary route followed by a traverse up the northeast ridge of Gannett and a descent
by the nonnal route concluded the trip.
In 1950 we headed out again for the West. This time the distinguishing feature was the age of the group. Excluding myself, the
oldest was eighteen. \Vith John Hewett of Williams as second rope
leader and a group of what were then still schoolboys, we climbed
some sixteen rather good peaks. One of the clin1bers, Lammot Copeland, is now a member of the H.M.C. First we headed for the
Wind River Range where the winter snows had been so heavy that
we had some difficulty getting into the mountains. George Tanner
did a masterful job of getting our supplies in with his pack string.
The snow probably helped us on one climb where we may have
made a new route on East Sen tina!. We followed a gully that would
otherwise have been quite dangerous because of falling rock. This
led to the northwest ridge which we followed to the summit. We
made the following additional climbs:
Gannett-northeast ridge up and ordinary route clown.
Koven-traverse up east ridge and clown west ridge.
vV arren-Doublet-Din woody traverse.
vV est Sentinal-via east face.
Woodrow Wilson.
Bastion.
[ 74 l
Sphynx-ascent via the north face, down the west ridge.
We left in a rainstorm, our first bad weather, and drove north,
entering the Columbia Icefield in the rain. It cleared and remained
perfect for almost all of our stay in the Canadian Rockies. We
climbed the north ridge of Columbia descending its east face and
made a traverse of Edith Cavell. Next we climbed Odaray frotn Lake
O'Hara. We then spiraled up Huber, climbing Victoria from there,
and descended to Abbot Pass. Our final ascent was Biddle; we went
up the southeast ridge and descended the west ridge in our only bad
Canadian weather.
Climbing Notes
1949
Early in the summer, a party comprised of Andy Griscom,
Harry King, Frank Magoun, Dave Michael, Henry S. Pinkham and
Bill Putnam, spent three weeks in the Disenchantment Bay area.
The group made the first ascent of Mt. Upham, a 9,300 foot peak
east of the Variegated Glacier. The party was the first to go up the
Variegated Glacier and rnade a number of minor ascents in the area.
Some surveying and geological reconnaissance was done including
some observations of a large, peculiarly shaped, tall pyramidal object
made of rocks and thought to be an odd anthropological relic.
Graham Matthews, Griscom, King, and George Bell spent several weeks in the Cascades, and made numerous first ascents, among
which was a climb by Bell and King of the East Ridge of Forbidden
Peak. Other first ascents were Trapper Peak and Needle Peale
The party also climbed Mounts Rainier and Baker.
Matthews later climbed Lower Cathedral Spire, Yosemite, and
then joined Beckey in an abortive attempt on unclimbed Castle
Rock Spire in Sequoia National Parle
[ 75]
The ACC held its annual summer camp at the Freshfield Icefield.
HMC members present included Henry Hall, Brad Gilman, Charlie
Bell, and Bruce Gerhard. The icefield has not often been visited
and several first ascents were made. Constant rain marred the first
ten days of the camp, but when the weather cleared, numerous ascents were made. Climbs in which HMC members participated include Coronation Peak, Mt. Bergne, Mt. Trutch, and three rock nubbins: Peony, Pitooey, and Petrie.
1950
Bill and Mike Putnam spent the summer in Europe and made a
number of ascents in the Pyrenees of 11,000-12,000 foot peaks in the
vicinity of Mt. Perdu near Gavarnie.
In early August Bill Putnam and Hugh Campbell put up a new
route on the Gross Glockner (12,800') in the Austrian Alps. The
route was a major variation of the standard Hoffman's Weg, proceeding straight up the icefall of the Hoffman's Kees instead of
crossing and proceeding up the east ridge of the mountain.
Ad Carter, Fred Ford, and Bob West climbed in the Wind River
Range, Wyoming.
In 1950, a group including Oscar R. Houston, Anderson Bakewell, Mrs. Elizabeth Cowles, Charles S. Houston, and H. W. Tilman
was the first party to venture into the area in Eastern Nepal south of
Everest. Houston and Tilman spent one week examining and photographing the climbing possibilities of the south side of Everest. No
practicable route was found and reports are that the south side is
steeper, more broken, and apparently more difficult than the north.
The group came back with some excellent kodachromes and movies
which Charlie Houston showed the Club at the 1951 Spring
Dinner.
[ 76]
Club News
In 1950, the H.M.C. was able to obtain a room in the basement
of Lowell House (M-en try), largely through the efforts of Frank
Mag~un, for its use as a clubroom and library. The room has been
redecorated and modestly furnished; fluorescent lighting has been
installed; and one end has been panelled off to provide storage space
for equipment. The library includes an excellent collection of mountaineering books left by the late Allston Burr as well as a number of
books and pictures donated by various other metnbers.
A Safety Committee was organized in the fall of 1950 because of
the increasing number of accidents caused by novices climbing without adequate leadership. The Comtnittee, led by Ted Scudder, conducted both a standard Red Cross first aid course and a special
mountain rescue seminar in the spring term. The characteristics of
good leadership have been stressed and inexperienced men found
climbing on their own have been urged to seek competent leadership
or to join a climbing organization. Frequent discussions and analyses
of mountaineering accidents have been held during the regular Club
meetings.
The increasing number of new men interested in mountaineering
has caused a lack of leaders in the Club. For this reason the H.M.C.
is holding a leaders' climbing school at Glacier, B. C., from July
24th to August 3rd. Bill Putnam will be the director of the
camp. Interested members should contact Bill or the Club at once.
New men and graduate members are especially urged to consider
spending a week to ten clays in the camp in order to exchange ideas
and experience. Perhaps a cairn-building competition could be
held.
[ 77]
Obituaries
JAMES GRAHAM McNEAR
1928-1949
A native of Peoria, Illinois, McNear attended Deerfield Academy before his entrance into Harvard in the Fall of 1946. He began
his climbing career in the Tetons in 1946, and made numerous
ascents in that range during the following two seasons. In 1948 he
climbed extensively in the Wind River area and Yosemite, also
making ascents of Stettner's Ledges on Long's Peak and the Devil's
Tower.
A member of the Chicago Mountaineers, the Seattle Mountaineers,
and the Iowa Mountaineers, Graham~ participated actively in the
H.M.C and was elected Secretary in the Spring of 1949. His death
that summer in an accident on the Dent du Geant was a great loss to
the Club and to all who knew him.
WILLIAM SARGENT LADD
1887-1949
Having secured his B.S. from Amherst in 1910 and his M.D. from
Columbia in 1915, Dr. Lacld embarked on a distinguished professional career. He taught at Columbia, Johns Hopkins, and Cornell,
where he held the post of Dean of the Medical College from 1935 to
1942. He held positions of responsibility in numerous professional
and philanthropic organizations, including the New York Academy
of Medicine and Memorial Hospital, and was a trustee of Amherst
College and the American University, Beirut.
A former President of the American Alpine Club, Dr. Lade\ was
a mernber of the Alpine Club (London) and the Alpine Club of
Canada, and an honorary member of the Club Alpine Fran~aise and
this Club. His climbing record included many seasons in the
Canadian Rockies and the Alps. In 1926, with Allan Carpe and the
guide Andy Taylor, he pioneered Mt. Fairweather in Alaska, and
was a member of the expedition which climbed it in 1929.
[ 78]
His personal qualities were of the finest, and his many generosities and untiring efforts in behalf of American mountaineering
will not be soon forgotten.
JULIAN WILLARD HELBURN
1883-1950
Graduating from Harvard in 1904, Helburn worked for two
years with the New York Evening Sun and with the American Magazine. He then entered the leather firm of Helburn and Company
in Salem, Massachusetts, in which he rose to the position of treasurer
and of which he later became president. During World War II he
served as a consultant to the War Production Board.
He made many ascents in the Alps, including the Matterhorn,
Mont Blanc, and Monte Rosa, and was one of the earliest pioneers of
winter mountaineering in the White Mountains.
The Club is indebted to Mr. Helburn for his bequest of several
valuable books for our library.
r 79
1
Membership
of the
Harvard Mountaineering Club
HONORARY
HALL, HENRYS., JR., Honorary President, 154 Coolidge Hill, Cambridge 38,
Mass.
BRowN, T. GRAHAJ\·I, Prof., Physiological Institute, Cardiff, Wales, Great
Britian.
CoNANT, JAJ\IES B., President, Harvard University, 17 Quincy St., Cambridge
38, Mass.
FISHER, JoEL E., 1020 Fifth Ave., N. Y., N. Y.
HousE, vVJLLIAM P., Chesham, N. H.
ODELL, NoEL E., Prof., Clare College, Cambridge, England.
RicHARDs, I. A., Prof., 41 Kirkland St., Cambridge 38, Mass.
WAsHBURN, H. BRADFoRD, JR., 213 Brattle St., Cambridge 38, Mass.
\Voon, vVALTER A., JR., Arctic Institute of North America, Audubon Terrace,
Broadway and 156th. St., N. Y. 32, N.Y.
GRADUATE
*Indicates Life Member; (A) Indicates Active Member
*BAssETT, DAVID R., '49, 11 Temple St., Apt. 9, Boston 14, Mass. (A)
BATEs, RoBERT H., '35, Dunbar Hall, Exeter, N. H. (A)
BEAL, vVILLIAM D., JR., '46, Jackson, N. H. (A)
BELL, GEoRGE I., '48, 112 Eclgecliff Place, Ithaca, N. Y.
BisHoP, RoBERT H., '38, Arrowhead Farm, Novelty, Ohio
BRIGHT, ALEXANDER H., 165 Brattle St., Cambridge, Mass.
BRoKAw, CALEB, JR., '43, 225 Oak Parkway, Dunellen, N. J. (A)
BRoWN, DoNALD W., % Guarantee Trust Co., 524 5th Ave., N. Y. 18, N. Y.
CABoT, FRANcis H., JR., '49, North P. 0., Mathews County, Va.
CuvrMAcK, EDWARD A., '50, 350 So. Miss. River Blvd., St. Paul, Minn. (A)
*CARTER, H. ADAMs, '36, 361 Center St., Milton, Mass. (A)
*CARTER, RoBERT S., '39, I Hilltop Rd., Port Washington, N. Y.
CHAMBERLAIN, LoWELL, '49, 4255 Lowell Drive, Des Moines, Iowa. (A)
CHAMBERLIN, HARRIS A., M.D., '42, 29 Woodbine Rd., Belmont 78, Mass. (A)
CLAPP, RoGER E., '41, 2 Gray Gardens East, Cambridge, Mass. (A)
Conn, JoHN, 277 Cooper Place, New Haven 15, Conn,
Cons, DR. SIDNEY, '38, Reel House, Groton, Mass.
CoMEY, ARTHUR C., '07, Beaver Pond Rd., Lincoln, Mass.
DALRYMPLE, JAII·IEs W., JR., 'SO, 6 Beacon St., Andover, Mass.
DoDsoN, RoBERT H. T., '47, 434 Harvard St., Norfolk, Va. (A)
DoRSEY, HERBERT G., JR., '34, 3708 33rd Pl. N. W., Washington, D. C.
DRAKE, JosEPH W., '45, 925 Park Ave., N. Y., N. Y.
EMERsoN, J. PHILIP, 'SO, 15 Hawthorne St., Salem, Mass. (A)
*EMMoNs, ARTHUR B., % Foreign Service Mail Room, Dep't State, Wash.,
D. C. (A)
[ 80]
EMMONs, ORVILLE H., '36, Knollwood, Dover, Mass. (A)
ERsKINE, LINwooD M., ]R., '46, 808 Slater Bldg., Worcester, Mass. (A)
*FARQUHAR, FRANCIS P., '09, 220 Bush St., San Francisco, Calif. (A)
*FERRIS, BENJAMIN G., ]R., M. D., '40, Towne House Rd., Weston, Mass. (A)
*FISI<, IRVING L., II, '50, 20 Berkley Place, Buffalo, N. Y. (A)
*FoRBEs, ALEXANDER, '04, 610 Harland St., Milton, Mass. (A)
*FoRBEs, GEoRGE S., '02, 12 Oxford St., Cambridge, Mass. (A) Fac. Adviser
*FoRSTER, RoBERT W., '50, 1013 Westview St., Philadelphia, Pa. (A)
FRENCH, STACEY, 170 Lowell Ave., Palo Alto, Calif.
GILMAN, BRADLEY B., '28, 808 State Mutual Bldg., 340 Main St., Worcester,
Mass. (A)
GooDwiN, ]AMES A., '34, 46 Farnham. Rd., West Hartford, Conn.
GRAY, JoHN C., '30, 3326 Quesada St., N. W., Washington 15, D. C.
GRAY, RoBIN, '38, 306 Adams St., Milton, Mass. (A)
GRIFFITH, WAYLAND C., '46, Palmer Physical Lab., Princeton, N. ]. (A)
*GRiscoM, ANDREW, '49, 21 Fayerweather St., Cambridge, Mass. (A)
GRUNEBAUM, HENRY, '47, 11 Brayton Rd., Scarsdale, N. Y. (A)
*HALL, HENRY S., ]R., 154 Coolidge Hill, Cambridge 38, Mass. (A)
*HAMILToN, IAN M., '50, 3330 N. St., N. W., Washington, D. C.
*HENDERsoN, KENNETH A., '26, 29 Agawam Rd., Waban 68, Mass. (A)
HoLT, BRANTLY, M. D., Box 594, Ellensburg, Wash.
*HuNTINGToN, EDwARD V., 48 Highland St., Cambridge 38, Mass. (A)
HuRD, JoHN C., ]R., '49, Winthrop Hall, St. John's Rd., Cambridge, Mass.
JoHNsoN, LEE R., 6173 Olentangy Blvd., Worthington, Ohio.
KAUFFMAN, ANDREW ]., II, 6427 Brooks Lane, Washington, D. C. (A)
KENNARD, HARRisoN E., M. D., '25, 246 Dudley Rd., Newton Center, Mass.
KENNARD, JoHN H., M. D., 967 Elm St., Manchester, N. H."
LATADY, WILLIAM, '37, Gray Gardens East, Cambridge 38, Mass. (A)
LEDoux, Lams P., !55 6th Ave., New York, N.Y.
*MAGOUN, FRANCIS P., III, '50, 29 Reservoir St., Cambridge, Mass. (A)
*MALLINCKRoDT, EDWARD, '00, Mallinckrodt Chemical Works, St. Louis, Mo.
(A)
MANTEL, SAMUEL, ]R., 5640 N. Pennsylvania St., Indianapolis, Ind.
MAssEY, GEoFFRY, '49, 22 Plympton St., Cambridge, Mass. (A)
MATHER, KIRTLEY F., '09, 155 Homer St., Newton Center 59, Mass.
*MATTHEWs, W. V. GRAHAM, '43, Fessenden School, W. Newton 65, Mass. (A)
MAXWELL, ]AMEs C., '50, 83 Mountfort St., Boston, Mass. (A)
~McCARTER, RoBERT S., '46, 118 Easton Rd., Garden City, L. I., N . Y. (A)
McGRAIL, THoMAs H., '47, 4 Rita Lane, Albany, N. Y.
MEANs, ]Al\IEs, 30 Humboldt Ave., Providence 6, R. I.
*MILLER, MAYNARD M., '43, % A. G. S., Broadway & 56th St., N.Y., N. Y. (A)
MINER, W. LAWRENCE, ]R., '47, 97 Lower Blvd., New London, Conn. (A)
NoTl\IAN, JoHN H., Oakhurst, Clinton, Iowa.
*O'BRIAN, LINcoLN, '29, % Daily Eagle, Claremont, N. H. (A)
OvERTON, GEoRGE, '40, 5728 Woodlawn Ave., Chicago 37, Ill.
*PEABODY, DEAN, ]R., Prof., '47, 362 Clyde St., Chestnut Hill, Mass. (A)
PERKINS, FRANcis W., '26, 19 Forest Rd., West Hartford, Conn.
*PuTNAM, WILLIAM L., '45, 216 Central St., Springfield 5, Mass. (A)
*RIDDER, WALTER T., '40, 622 Albee Bldg., Washington 5, D. C.
RoBBINs, SAMUEL M., '45, 12 Cotton St., Newton 58, Mass.
*RoBINSoN, CERVIN, '50, 72 Myrtle St., Boston 14, Mass. (A)
[ 81 ]
*Ross, JoHN H., '48, 24 Craigie St., Cambridge 38, Mass. (A)
ScHAFER, J. PHILIP, '43, Dept. of Geology, Brown Univ., Providence 12,
R. I. (A)
.
ScoTT, DouGLAS C., '35, 1900 Albany Ave., West Hartford, Conn.
*SosMAN, JoHN L., M. D., '40, 33 Old Billerica Rd., Bedford, Mass. (A)
*STACEY, DAviD, '40, Box 26, Estes Park, Colo., (A)
STARZINGER, VINCENT E., '50, 630 41st., Des Moines, Iowa. (A)
STEBBINs, HENRY D., M. D., '27, Peach's Point, Marblehead, Mass.
STEINWAY, THEODORE, '35, 40 Sutton Place, N. Y., N. Y.
*ToDD, CLEMENT J., '44, 178 South East Blvd., Corona, Calif. (A)
Voss, JoHN, 64 Oxford St., Cambridge, Mass.
WHITNEY, HAssLER, '32, Eliot House N-21, Cambridge 38, Mass. (A) Faculty
Adviser.
UNDERGRADUATE
( t indicates active member)
A.I\IEs, OAKEs, '53, Box 126, Cold Spring Harbor, Long Island, N. Y.
AsPINWALL, PETER, '54, 521 Hammond St., Chestnut Hill, Mass.
BARDEN, RicHARD P., '54, 3007, N. E. Holman St., Portland 11, Oregon.
BmLENsoN, A. C., '54, 160 Lawrence St., Mt. Vernon, N. Y.
tBELL, CHARLEs H., '52, Tinkerbell Farm, New Milford, Conn.
tBLAIR, HARRISON L., '51, 453 Manor Rd., Detroit 30, Mich.
BoRsT, HANs, IG., 773 Park Ave., c/o Saint George, N.Y., 27, N. Y.
BRIGGS, vVINSLOW R., '51, 667 Goodrich Ave., St. Paul 5, Minn.
BRowN, RicHARD M. IG., 4375 Ampudia St., San Diego, Cal.
CoPELAND, LAMJ\IOT, '54, Greenville, Del.
DAvis, MoRGAN J., JR., '51, 3207 Inwood Drive, Houston 19, Texas
DRAKE, DAvm, '52, 1803 East 52nd St., Seattle, 'Nash.
DuNKER, HENRY T., '51, Church Hill, ·woodstock, Vt.
tDuNN, FREDERICK L., '51, 26th East Slst St., N. Y. 28, N. Y.
FARRINGTON, RICHARD, '52, Pine Orchard, Conn.
tFoRo, FRED B., '52, 54 Florence Ave., Norwood, Mass.
'FoRBEs, JoHN M., '54, 197 Brattle St., Cambridge, Mass.
FRANcis, HENRY S., Jr., '54, County Line Rd., Gates Mills, Ohio
FuLLER, JoHN G. c., '52, 3418 vVarden Drive, Philadelphia, Pa.
GARDNER, ALEXANDER, '52, 2700 Euclid Park Place, Evanston, Ill
tGEimARD, F. BRUCE, JR., '52, 248 Oakridge Ave., Summit, N. J.
GoRDON, RicHARD J., '54, 528 72nd St., Kenosha, vVis.
HANSEN, LoRENTZ IV., '52, 67 Alta Vista Drive, Tuckahoe 7, N. Y.
HEARn·, STEPHEN, '53, Canoe Rd., New Canaan, Conn.
tHEINEMANN, H. EmcH, '53, Mill Rd., Norwalk, Conn.
HoLM, vVALTER, '51, 222 Pajarito, Nogales, Ariz.
HuMPHREYs, JoHN, S., II, '54, 1211Park Ave., N. Y.
tKn\IBALL, RicHARD H., Jr., '52, 705 Ridge Rd., Lewiston, N. Y.
LAWSON, JA!v!ES A., '52, vVater St., Foxboro, Mass.
LAsH, MALLORY, IG, Box 2255, R. R. 5, Victoria, B. C.
McLEoD, JoHN, '54, 9 East 67th St., Kansas City 5, Mo.
MAsoN, IVILLIAM V., '51, 1801 Bolsover Rd., Houston, Texas
MAVOR, HuNTINGTON IG, 8 Gracewood Park, Cambridge 38, Mass.
MoRK, DoNALD C., '52, 177 Franklin St., Newton, Mass.
[ 82
J
tNEVISON, THoMAs, '51, 1759 Union Commerce Bldg., Cleveland, Ohio
NoxoN, JoHN F., IG, 7 Cove Rd., Stonington, Conn.
OLI<EN, MARK D., '54, 76 Robbins Rd., Vlatertown, Mass.
ORDWAY, SAJ\IUEL, III, '52, 155 East 72ml St., N. Y., N. Y.
tORNSTEIN, S. M., '51, 259 Merion Rd., Merion, Pa.
PoTTER, H. DAviD, '53, 2518 Woodlawn Ave., Boise, Idaho.
PuTNAM, MicHAEL C. J., '54, 216 Central St., Springfield, Mass.
RABKIN, RicHARD, '54, 312 E. Devonia Ave., Mt. Vernon, N. Y.
Rnvo, EDwARD R., '51, 66 \Vaban Hill Rd., Newton, Mass.
RoY, RoBERT F., '52, 62 Linden Pl., Brookline, Mass.
tScuDDER, THAYER, '52, 46 Brewster St., Cambridge, Mass.
SHAW, SAMUEL E., II, '54, 149 Lincoln Rd., Longmeadow 6, Mass.
SHEATs, PAuL D., '54, 2401 Calvert St., N. W., Washington 8, D. C.
SHUMAN, BERTRAM M., '52, 23 Fessenden St., Mattapan, Mass.
tSMITH, JoHN M., '52, 76 Elm St., Northampton, Mass.
SJ"v!ITH, THoMAs W., '51, Argilla Rd., Ipswich, Mass.
STowE, ARTHUR N., '54, 81 Forest Ave., Hudson, Mass.
THoMAs, STEPHEN l'vL, '54, Oenoke Ridge, New Canaan, Conn.
VAN THIEL, PIETER R., '54, 2934 4th Ave., Pueblo, Col.
t'NEST, RoBERT C., IG, 43 Symphony Rd., Boston 15, Mass.
WRIGHT, J. C., '54, 3301 E. Seneca St., Tucson, Ariz.
ZENER, JoHN R., '54, 1326 Madison Park, Chicago 15, Ill.
CORRESPONDING MEMBERS
BAKER, DAviD, 43 Garden Rd., vVellesley, Mass.
BERNAYs, DAviD J., 24 All Military Rd., Saranac Lake, N. Y.
DoDGE, JosEPH B., Gorham, N. H.
JoHNsoN, FREDERICK 0., 49 Fremont Place, Los Angeles 5, Calif.
PITTMAN, CHARLEs, (Life) c/o Reeves, 26 Ridge Rd., Summit, N. J,
[ 83]
Index to Harvard Mountaineering,
Numbers 1-10
A
Abbe, E., III-21, 24, 25
Abbot, Mount, VI-41; VII-5; VIII-43
Abruzzi, Duke of, V-6, 8; VIII-9
Abruzzi Ridge, V-9, 10
Adagdak, VIII-27
Adak, VUI-27, 29
Adamant Glacier, IX-50; X- 67
Adamant, Mt., IX-48; X-63
Adams, Lt. Chas., IX-31, 32
Agnes, Mt. St., see: Mt. Marcus
Baker
Alaska Range, II-37, 46; VI-18, 23;
IX-7
Aleutian Islands, VII-26; VIII-27, 32
Allen, Kenneth, II-47
Alpine Club of Canada, camp, II-70,
72; VIII-37; IX-65; X-76
Alps, III-15, 19; IV-28; V-37, 39;
VI-36, 53; VIII-62, 71; IX-6, 21;
X-77
American Alpine Club, V-6; VI-33;
VII-32; VIII-22, 47, 71, 75; IX-7
American Geographical Society, III21; IV-17; V-17; VI-27, 28, 30;
VIII-22; IX-69
Anderson, Carl, IV-11
Andes, VI-15; VIII-67; IX-87; X-25
Antarctic, IX-8, 25
Antler, The X-12
Arctic Institute of N. America, IX-70,
78; X-54
Arctic Peak, IX-80
Argentine, Mt., IX-50
Asperity, Mt., IX-10, 17
Asu1kan Pass, X-18
Augusta, Mt., IX-78
Austerity, Mt., X-62, 66
Avery, Stewart, VI-36
Azimuth Mountain, IX-50
B
Bagley, Mt., VI-23
Baird Glacier, VI-32, 47
Baker, Morton H., VI-50; VIII-34
Bakewell, Anderson, V-17; VI-28;
X-76
Baldwin, John D., IX-6
Bates, Robert H., IV-14, 23; V-6, 20,
22, 39; VI-27-33, 48; VII-26; VIII70; IX-7, 8; X-74
Battle Mountain, VIII-36
Battle Range, VIII-34, 44; IX-60;
X-18, 44
Beardsley, Hartness, IV-20, 23
Beaton, B. C., VIII-34; IX-60
Beaver, Mt., VIII-34
Beckey, Fred, IX-9, 12, 14; X-6
Bell, C. H., X-40, 47, 76
Bell, George I., IX-18; X-25, 75
Beowulf, Mt., IX-63
Bering, Vitus, VIII-7, 21
Bernese Oberland, IX-21
Bertha, Mt., VI-7; IX-8
Big Tooth, IX-40
Bishops Glacier, VIII-48, 50; X-22
Bishops Mitre, III-22, 23
Bishops Range, X-18, 42
Bishop, Robert, V-37; VI-15, 16
Blackfriars, X-66
Blackhorn, Mt., II-70, 75; IV-24
Blair, Harrison L., X-18
Blake, Robert, VI-50
Blanc, Mt., III-15, 18
Blue Hills, II-78, VI-56
Bonney, Mt., VIII-43; IX-65
Boott Spur, VI-62
The Club is indebted to David Michael, Phil Emerson, and C. H.
Bell for the great amount of work they did in compiling this index-ed.
[ 84]
Bras Crocl1e, Mt., II-53
Brewster, Norman, VIII-43, 46, 47;
IX-60; X-63
British-American Himalayan Expedition, IV-29
British Columbia Mountaineers, V-11
British Columbia, IV-24, 27; VI-41,
48; VIII-34, 37, 43, 51, 72; IX-42,
57, 70; X-18, 40, 63
Brokaw, Caleb, VIII-70
Brouillard, Mt., II-52
Brown, D. W., IV-28, 29
Brooks, Eric, III-23, 24; VII-16, 17;
VIII-37
Brown, T. Graham, IV-11, 28, 29;
V-30, 34
Bruce-Robertson, Alan, X-54
Buckner, Mt., VI-36, 38
Bugaboos, VIII-37, 70; IX-63, 75, 76
Bugaboo Spire, VIII-40, 42; IX-76
Burdsall, Richard L., IV-6; V-6
Burr, Allston, IX-88, X-77
Bush, Mt., I-18, 21; II-64; IV-27
Butters, Mt., VIII-34, 36; IX-60, 63
c
Cabot, Francis H., Jr., IX-38
Cabot, Thomas D., V-15
Campbell, Hugh, X-76
Cammack, Edward, X-47
Campus Peak, II-71
Canadian Rockies, II-60, 65, 66; V-37,
39; VI-33. 48; VII-16, 19; VIII-37,
51, 54; IX-6, 7
Canadian Topographical Survey,
II-66
Canin, Mt., VIII-64
Cannon, Mt., VI-53, 59; VIII-72
Carmel, Mt., VI-53, 59
Carpe, Allen, III-5
Carter, H. Adams, IV-14, 16, 20, 29;
V-30, 39; VII-26; VIII-66, 70; IX-7;
X-74
Cascades, VI-36, 48, 50; VIII-55, 76
Case, John, X-74
Cathedral Ledge, VI-54, 62
Caucasus, III-15; IX-8
Centro Alpinistico Italiano, VIII-62,
64
Chamberlain, Lowell, IX-7, 69
Chase, Weldon A., VIII-57, 62
Chatwin, Len, VIII-40
Child, William S., IV-14
Chile, V-39; VIII-67
China, IV-6; IX-7
Chugach Range, V-22, 37
Clapp, Roger E., VI-53; VII-9, 13,
29; VIII-37, 70
Claw Peaks, IX-12
Clearwater Group, I-6; II-66
Clemenceau Glacier, II-47, 58
Cleveland, Robert, I-14; II-70
Cline, Mt., I-9
Cloudmaker, Mt., IX-55, 57
Club Andino de Coutin, VIII-69
Cobb, John, VI-48; VII-29
Colombia, V-15
Colossal, Mt., IX-46, 51
Columbia, Mt., II-47, 50
Columbia River, VI-40; IX-42, 45;
X-63
Combatant, Mt., IV-24
Comey, Arthur C., II-77
Conant, James B., V-37
Constitution, H.M.C., III-36; VI-69
Cook, Mt., IX-78
Coolidge, Lawrence, IX-6
Cooper, W. S., VI-30
Copeland, Lammot, X-74
Cordillera de Huayhuash, X-25
Cork, Bruce, VII-9, 29; VIII-70
Cornelia, Mt., IX-19
Cortina d'Ampezzo, I-26, IX-38
Cosmic Ventures, MCML, X-18, 40
Cowan, Mt., IX-15
Couloir Peak, X-14
Coyle, John, VI-15
Craig Yr Ysfa, VII-2, 23, 25
Crescent Spire, IX-76
Crillon, Mount, III-9, II; IV-14, 16;
VI-7, 10; IX-7
Crush, Charles, X-25
Cyprian Peak, X-20
D
Dagelet, Mt., IV-14
Dais, Mt., II-48
Dall, Mt., II-37, 41, 44
Damnation Gully, VI-47, 51, 63, 66
Darjeeling, V-6, 30
Darr, Everett, VI-36
Davies, Sanger, I-28
Dawson Range, VI-42; VII-S; VIII43, 44, 48; X-19, 41
[ 85]
Day, Willson, VI-41; VIII-74
Deborah, Mt., VI-26
de Laittre, John, II-47
Delusion, Mt., IX-16
Demavend, Mt., VIII-71
Dent Blanche, IV-28, 29
Dentiform Pic, IX-12, 14
Dester, Batice, IX-I 1, 17
Deville Chimney, X-42
Deville Glacier, VI-45; VII-7; VIII48, 50; X-23, 41
de Villiers-Schwab, Henry B., IX-6
Devils Paw, VIII-23; IX-70; X-7
Devils Thumb, VI-47, 48; VIII-23
Devils Tower, V-39
di Bona, Angelo, IX-38
Disenchantment Bay, VIII-22; X-75
Division M·t., I-19, 23
Dodge, Joseph B., VIII-29
Dodson, Robert, VIII-71; IX-8, 25
Dolomites, I-26; VIII-62
Donkin Pass, VIII-48; X-20
Dow, Russel, V-22
Dragonback, Mt., IX-11, 19
Drown, Ray, IX-75
Duncan, Dyson, II-60; IV-27
Duncan, Mt., VIII-34
Dunkirk, Mt., VI-48
Dunn, Fred, X-18
Duplicate Peak, II-56
Durand, Dana B., IX-6
Durand, Billy, IX-52
Dyhrenfurth, Norman, V-22
E
Eagle Peak, VI-42; VIII-43
East Peak ( Gothics), IX-47, 49
Eckenstein, V-6
Eddy, Garrett, V-37
Edfalls, Mt., X-69, 70
Edith, Mt., VII-16
Edith Cavell, Mt., VIII-53
Elburz Range, VIII-71
Emmons, A. B., IV-6, 8, 28, 29;
V-30; IX-7
Emmons, Orville, IX-7
England, VII-23, 25
Enterprise Peak, IX-51
Erskine, Linwood M., VIII-34
Escalade Peak, IX-63
Escape Hatch, VI-63
[ 86]
Estella, Mount, II-72
Everest, Mount, V-6, 25-29; X-78
Everett, Walter C., III-15, 17; IV-14
F
Faberge, Alec, X-63
Fafnir Mount, IX-63
Fairweather, Mount, III-5, 6, 7, 13;
\TIII-18; IX-7
Fairweather Range, III-5; IV-14; VI7, 8, 12, 32; VIII-22
Farbus, Mt., I-19, 20
Farquhar, Francis, IV-28
Farrar, Mt., II-54
Fay, Mt., V-2
Ferris, Benjamin G., Jr., VI-18, 23;
VIII-7; IX-42
Feursinger, Michl, VI-7
Feuz, Edward, I-19, 22, 24; IV-27
Feuz, Ernest, II-60; IV-24
Feuz Peak, VIII-49, 50
Fiebelkorn, Carl, VIII-31
Field, W. Osgood, II-66; IV-27; VI30; VIII-22; IX-6
Finsteraarhorn, IX-22
Finsteraarjoch, IX-22
Fitzpatrick, Joseph, VI-41, 42, 44,
48; VII-29; VIII-48; IX-7
Fix, William C., IX-18
Flower Tower, X-17
Fobes, Joseph, IV-17
Foraker, Mount, I-21; II-37, 39, 40,
44; IV-11, 13; IX-7
Forbes, Alexander, III-21; IV-28
Forbes, George Shannon, X-2
Forbes, H. S., III-23
Forbes, Mount, I-6, 18, 21; II-60, 64
Fortress Pass, II-47, 50, 51
Four Guardsmen, IX-15
Fox, Mount, VI-45; VIII-49; X-41
Franklin Glacier, VII-21
Fremont Peak, V-39
French, Stacy, V-37; VI-50
Freshfield Group, I-22; X-76
Frewing, H. Lester, VI-39, 40
Frontier Mt., IX-9, 16
Fryxell, F. M., III-29
Fuhrer, Hans, II-47, 50; IV-17, 24;
VIII-51, 54
Fuhrer, Otto, IV-29
Furnas, Thomas, VI-41, 44; VII-5
G
Gabriel, Peter, V-22, 37; VI-33
Galleon, The, II-51
Gargoyle, The, X-71
Gashed Crag, VII-23
Geddes, Mount, IV-24; IX-19
Gerhard, Bruce, X-76
Ghost Mt., II-52, 55
Giants Head, VI-59
Gibson, Rex, VI-33; VIII-39, 42;
IX-53, 57
Gifford, Walter S, Jr., V-37; VIIT75
Gilman, Bradley B., II-70; V-37; VT60! VIII-39, 71; IX-21; X-76
Glac~cr Bay, VI-30; VIII-22, 25
Glac1er, B. C., VI-41; VII-S, 7; IX65; X-18, 40
Glacier Circle VI-41 44; VII-S;
VIII-47, 50; X-22, 40
Godwin Austen, Mt., V-6
Goode, Mt., VI-37
Goodwin, James, V-37; VIII-70
Gothics, IX-47, 49; X-67
Grand Cime eli Lavareclo, IX-40
Grand Teton, III-28; IV-28; VII-9,
12; X-52, 53
Granite Range, X-63
Graven, Alexander, IV-28
Great Sitkin, VIII-27, 29
Grendel, Mt., IX-63
Griscom, Andrew, IX-75; X-6, 75
Grossglockner, Mt., VIII-57, 60; X-76
Grunebaum, Henry, IX-75
H
Hainsworth, Bill, X-54
Hall, Henry S., IV-24, 27; V-15, 37;
VI-18, 23, 36, 48; VII-16; VIII-70,
71; IX-6, 53; X-76
Hall, Mt., IX-15
Hardship, Mt., IX-19
Harper, Paul, V-37
Harris, Lem, IX-6
Hartshorne, Edward Y., VIII-74
Harvard Andean Expedition, X-25
Harvard Fatigue Laboratory VI-41·
'
'
VIII-9
Harvard Inst. for Geographical Exploration, V-20, 24; VI-7
H.M.C. Cabin, VI-52, 62; VII-30·
VIII-72
'
H.M.C. Constitution III-36 VI-69
Hasler Peak, VIII-48,
'
Haworth Lake, IX-55
Haworth, P. L., IX-53
Haydon, John W., IV-20, 23
Hayden Peak, VIII-2, 9, 15
Hayes, Mt., VI-18, 23, 26, 48; IX-8
Headwall of Tuckerman Ravine, VI58, 64, 66
Heartstone, Mt., IX-14
Hector, Mt., I-6, 22
Heiligenblut, VIII-57
Helburn, Julian W., X-79
Henderson, Kenneth A., III-31; VI36, 37, 39, 54; VIII-27
Hendricks, Sterling B., VI-18, 21, 23,
24, 33; IX-42, 45, 49, 50
Henry, Phineas McCray, Jr., VIII-74
Hermit Peak, IX-16
Hess, Mount, VI-26
Hewett, John, X-74
Himalayas, V-25, 27; VIII-71
Hind, Robert, VIII-42
Hitchcock Quarries, II-78; VI-53, 57
Hodgkin, V-34, 35
Holcombe, Waldo, IV-16; IX-7; X-74
Hole-in-the-wall Glacier, VIII-24
Hoover, Don, II-47, 48, 50, 51, 55
Hopewell, Robert, VIII-71
Horseshoe Basin, VI-37
Horseshoe Glacier, VII-21
Horn Ridge, IX-71; X-15
Houdini Needles, II-49
House, William P., V-11 13 14; VI48; VII-26; VIII-70;
Houston, Charles S., IV-11 14 28 29·
V-6, 30, 32, 36; VI-50; do( X-76 '
Houston, 0. R., IV-11; X-76
Howser Spire, VIII-38
Huagoruncho, VI-15, 16
Huancahuay, Mount, VI-16
Hubbard, Father, IX-70
Hubbard Glacier, IV-20; VIII-25; IX78, 80
Hubbard, l'viount, IV-23
Hugisattel, IX-22, 23
Hunter, Mount, II-37
Huntington Ravine, II-19; VI-47, 51,
53, 62, 66; VIII-72; IX-84
Hurley, Edward C., VII-32
Db '
[ S7 J
Iconoclast, Mount, IX-51
Illecillewaet Neve, VI-42, 44, 46;
VII-5; X-18, 40
Incommapleaux River, VIII-34, 36;
IX-61; X-19
Institute Peak, IX-78, 80, 83, 84; X54, :16
Italy, VIII-71, 62
Isolation, Mt., see: Mt. Charles Shiverick
Jackman, A. H., VI-28, 33, 35
Jackson, Wyoming, 1-14; VII-9; X-47
Jiigerjoc, IV-28
Jelfers, Lercy, 1-12
Jefferson, Beverley, II-70, 75
Jenks, William, VI-15
Jenny Lake, T-17; IV-28; VII-9, II
Jirishanca, X-27, 38
Joachim, Adam, II-47, 48, 50, 51
Joe English Hill, II-79; VI-53, 57;
VIII-72
Jof Fuart, VIII-62, 64
Johnson, Joe, IX-6
Julian Alps, VIII-62, 70
Juneau Tcefield, VI-7, 8, 30, 31; VIII22, 23; IX-69, 70, 73, 74; X-6
Juneau Research Project, X-7
Jungfrau, IX-21
K
K 2, V-6, 10; IX-8
Karakorum Range, V-6
Karstens Ridge, VI-35
Katahdin, Mt., TI-77; VI-54, 64;
VIII-72
Kate's Needle, VT-48; VIII-23
Kauffman, Andrew J ., II, VI-35;
VII-5, 7; VIII-7, 44, 71; IX-7, 42, 60,
64; X-63
Kauffman, Elizabeth, VII-5; VIII-9,
12, 43, 47; IX-42, 61; X-63
Kaumajet Range, III-21, 23, 27
Kennard, "Hap", V-15; IX-6
Kinglapait Mts., III-21
Kilpatrick, Mt., X-42
Kimball, Richard H., X-18
King, Harry C., IX-9, 12, 15; X-6, 47,
77
[ 88]
Kiska Volcano, VIII-31
Kitchener, Mt., II-50
Kleine, Zinne, 1-28
L
Labrador, III-21; IV-28
Ladd, William S., III-5, 9; VI-30;
X-78
Latady, William, VI-41; VII-9, 13,
23; VIII-9, 12, 22, 70; IX-7, 25,
69
Lauterbrunnen Breithorn, IX-21
Lawrence, Donald B., VI-30
Le Conte Glacier, VIII-26
Leda Peak, VII-7, 8
Lens, Mt., 1-18; II-64
Leutold, Joseph, VI-39
Lhakpa La, V-27
Little Tahoma Peak, VI-50
Lituya, Mt., III-10
Lloyd, Peter, V-28, 30
Lloyd George Mts., IX-8, 53, 55
Logan, Mt., IIT-5; IV-20; VIII-IS;
IX-78
Longstaff Col., V-32
Loomis, William F., IV-26, 28; V29; IX-7
Louise, Lake, I-9, 18; II-60, 69; V-37
Louis, Mt., VII-16
Lucania, Mt., IV-18, 20; V-20, 22;
VI-7; IX-8
Lyell Icefield, I-22; II-60, 64
Lyell, Mt., I-18; II-60
Lynes, Twinning, II-60
M
MacLaurin, Colin, IX-7
MacLaurin, W. R., II-47, 50, 59
Magoun, Francis P., III, VIII-72;
IX-9, 12, 14, 78, 83; X-75, 77
Mallory, Mt., II-54
Marcus Baker, Mt., V-22; VI-18; VIII71
Marcus, Melvin, IX-69
Masherbrum, Mt., V-34, 36
Mason, Douglas, IX-29
Matthews, Graham, IX-9; X-25, 75
Maxwell, James C., IX-18; X-25
McCarter, Robert, VI-47; VIII-72;
IX-78; X-54
McConnell, Grant, VI-36
McCoy, C. D., I-5
McDonell Peak, VIII-54
McKinley, Mt., II-37; IV-12; V-20;
VI-18, 33; IX-8
McNear, James Graham, X-78
Megrew, Alden F., IX-7
Melcer, Ralph H., II-68
Messines, Mt., I-18
Mercator, Mt., IX-14
Metzger, Eldon, VI-39
Michael, David, IX-9, 12, 14; X-6, 63,
75
Michaels Sword, IX-66; X-7
Michel, Mt., VIII-49
Miller, Maynard M., VI-7, 30, 41, 47,
50; IX-7, 69, 78
Miller, 0. M., III-21
Miner, \V, L., Jr., IX-9, 70, 75
Minya Konka, IV-6
Moffett, Mt., VIII-29
Molenaar, Cornelius, VIII-9, 55
Jviolenaar, "Dee", VIII-9, 55
Mons Peak, II-60
Moore, Terris, III-6; I V-6; V-23; VI33; VII-26
Moran, Mt., I-12; III-31
Morris, Brewster, III-25
Morrison, Alva, VI-7
Mount Bertha Expedition, V-7
Muir Glacier, VI-32; VIII-23
Mumm, Mt., VIII-51
Munday-Hall Expedition, V-11
Munday, W. A. Don, IV-24; VI-48;
IX-17
Murchison, Mt., I-22
N
Nanda Devi, V-30, 32
National Geographic Society, V-20,
23; VIII-9
Nat. Geog. Soc. Yukon Expedition,
IV-20, V-22
Nevados Siula, X-25
Nevison, Tom, X-18
New England, II-77; VI-47, 57, 59;
VIII-70
Nichols, Robert L., IX-8, 29
Nilsson, Einar, VI-33
Norquay, Mt., VII-16, 19
North Gully, VI-47, 63, 66
North Twin, II-48
Notestein, Frank B., V-17
Notman,
Notman,
Novatne,
Nunatak
Arthur, V-37
John, V-37; IX-7
Toni, VIII-10, 21
Fiord, IV-23; VIII-22
0
O'Brien, Lincoln, II-78; IX-6
Obstacle Peak, IX-63
Odell Gully, VI-63
Odell, Noel E., III-21, 24; IV-29;
V-25, 30, 32; IX-53, 57; X-54
Oldhorn, Mt., II-73, 75
Old Man of the Mountain, VI-60
Olympics, VI-48, 50
Ome Daiber, IV-20, 23
Oppy, Mt., I-19
Ornstein, Randy, IX-75; X-40, 47
Ostheimer Party, IX-7
Outram, Mt., I-22
Overton, George, V-37
Owen, Arthur, IX-29
Owen, Mt., III-30; VII-9, 12; X-50
p
Palmer, Howard, II-66. 73; VIII-34,
75; IX-49
Palmer Peninsula, IX-29
Paragon Mt., VIII-53
Parker, Paul, VI-36, 37
Patagonia, IX-74
Perley Rock, VI-42; X-24, 40, 46
Perouse, Mt. La, IV-14
Peru, VI-15, 51; X-25
Petzoldt, Paul, III-31; IV-28; V-6,
X-53
Pica Cristobal Colon, V-18
Pigeon Spire, VIII-40; IX-75
Pinkham, Henry S., IX-42; X-6, 75
Pinkham Notch, VI-51, 62
Pinnacle Gully, VI-47, 51, 63; VIII-72
Pioneer Peak, IX-49; X-62
Pipestone Pass, I-5; II-66, 68
Plomo, El
Pollux Peak, VII-7; VIII-44; IX-66
Portal Peak, II-70
Praolini, Henri, V-17
Primus Stove, VII-28
Projectile, Mt., IX-10, 11
Project Snow Cornice, IX-70
Punte Fiammes, IX-39, 40
Purcell Range, I-22; VIII-37; IX-75
Purity, Mt., X-45
[ 89]
Purity Range, X-20, 42
Putnam, Mike, X-76
Putnam, \~Tilliam L., VI-41, 47, 50,
52; VII-20; VIII-9, 12, 16, 27, 70,
72; IX-7, 9, 14, 42; X-6, 76, 77
Pyrite Ridge, IX-50
Pyramid, Black, V-9
Q
Quadrant, Mt., IX-46
Queen Bess, Mt., VI-4H
Quincy, lvit., II-50
Quincy Quarries, II-7H; VI-51, 56;
VIII-72
Quintets, VIII-39
R
Railroad Quarries, VI-53, 56, 64;
VIII-72
Rainier, Mt., VI-48, 50; VIII-55, 76
Rampart Mts., II-72, 75; VIII-53
Rassac Peak, X-26
Rattlesnake Crags, II-78; VI-53, 56;
VIII-72
Razorback Mt., IV-24
Recondite Peak, II-66, 68
Reeve, Bob, V-20, 22
Refugio Gilberti, VIII-62
Reliance Mt., VIII-70
Remote, Mt., IX-19
Resplendent, Mt., VIII-51, 53
Riggs, Austen, X-25
Rishi Ganga Gorge, V-30
Robinson, Bestor, IV-26
Robinson, Cervin, IX-65, 75
Robson Glacier, VIII-51
Rocky Mt. National Park, II-66
Rondoy, X-27
Rongbuk Glacier, V-28
Ronne Antarctic Expedition, IX-8
Root, Mt., III-12
Roovers, Mt., IX-17
Ross, John H., VI-47; VII-9, 24; IX-7,
53, 78, 83; X-54
Russell, I. C., VIII-9
Russell, Mt., II-37, 41, 44; IV-28
s
Saint A-gnes, Mt., VI-18
Saint Elias, Mt., II-37; III-5, 11; 1V20; VIII-7, 74, 75; IX-8
[ 90]
Saint Elias Range, II-37; III-5, 11;
IV-17, 22; V-23; VI-27; VIII-7, 22,
55; IX-70, 78
Saint John, Mt., III-29; VII-II
Sanford, Mt., V-23
Sancay, Mt., IX-7
Santa Marta, V-17, 19
Sapphire Col, VII-8; VIII-44, 46; IX65; X-40
Sapphire Spire, X-14
Savoia Pass, V-8
Scarpetti, I-29
Schneider, Erwin, X-25
Schultz, Mt., IX-14
Scimitar Glacier, IV-24; IX-8, 11, 16
Scudder, Thayer, X-18, 77
Selkirk Range, II-69; V-37; VI-41,
4R, 50, 66; VII-S; VIII-34, 43, 74,
75; IX-42, 60, 65, 75; X-18, 40, 63
Selwyn, Mt., VI-44, 45; VIII-48, 50;
X-42
Sentinel Peak, IX-46
Serra, Mt., IX-15, 19
Seward Glacier, IX-7H, 84
Shand, Mt., IX-12
Shiprock, V-38, 39
Shipton, E. E., V-25, 28, 30
Shishaldin, Mt., VIII-27
Shiverick, Charles, II, VIII-51; IX-2,
9, 14, 88
Shiverick, Mt. Charles, IX-14
Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta, V-15;
IX-8
Siffieur River, I-9; II-66
Sikang Expedition, IV-6, 10
Simpson, Jim, I-23; II-60
Sir Benjamin, Mt., IX-48; X-71
Sir Donald, Mt., V-37; VI-2, 42; VIII43, 47, 70; IX-66
Sir Sanford, Mt., VIII-75; IX-50
Skagway, see: Pinkham, Henry S.
Slana, V-23
Sleeping Giant State Park, VI-59
Sleeping Lady, The, VI-50
Smith, John M., X-40
Smith, Phil, III-30
Smythe, Frank S., V-28; IX-53
Snowden, VII-23
Snow Dome, II-50
Snowpatch Spire, VIII-39; IX-75
Sosman, Leland, VI-47; VIII-43
Spur Cabin, IV-2; VI-51; VII-29; VITI72
Stacey, David, V-37; IX-7
Steele, Mt., IV-17; V-20
Stewart, Zach, X-50
Stiletto Needle, IX-12, 18
Storey, Charles M., IV-11
Storm Point, VII-13; X-48
Streatfield, Norman R., V-6
Streeter, Edward, IV-16
Strong, Bill, VIII-51
Strumia, M. M., I-19
Stutfield, Mt., II-48
Sundial Peak, II-48
Sunrise Glacier, IX-10
Swan Creek, IX-43, 45; X-63
Swanzy, Mt., VIII-43, 47, 50; X-40
T
Taku Glacier, VI-30, 32; VIII-25;
X-14, 16
Taylor, Andrew M., III-5, 10; IV20, 23
Teewinot, Mt., III-29; IV-2R; VII-11,
12, 14; X-48
Tellot Peaks, IX-12
Terry, Tom, VI-15
Tetons, I-12; III-29; IV-28; V-39;
VI-48, 50; VII-9; IX-86; X-47
Tetragona, Mt., III-23, 25, 27
Thomas, Anthony, IX-70
Thomas, Lowell, Jr., VI-7
Thorington, J. Monroe, I-19
Thorne, Neal, V-37
Thorne, Peter, V-37
Thor Pass, IX-46, 49
Threshold Peak, IX-16
Throne, Mt., II-73, 75
Tibet, IV-6; V-25
Tiedemann Group, IX-11
Tilman, H. W., V-25; IX-7; X-76
Tofane, Mt., IX-41
Tom, Mt., VI-54
Tonquin Valley, II-70
Topham, H. W., VIII-7
Topham, Mt., VI-44
Torngat Mts., III-21
Torre, Inglese, IX-38
Truslow, Frank A., III-30
Tryfan, VII-23
Tsar, Mt., II-47
Tupper, Mt., VIII-43
Tucker, Beverly, IX-38
Turret, Glacier, X-67, 72
Tusk Peak, II-53
Tyndall Glacier, VIII-7
Tyndall, Mt., IV-28
u
Underhill, Robert L. M., V-39
Upham, Mt., X-75
Uto Peak, VI-46; VII-7; VIII-43
v
Vancouver, Mt., IV-20; IX-78, 85;
X-54
Van Dyke, Milton, VI-47; VII-9
Ventures, Cosmic, MCML, X-40
Voss, John, VI-50
w
Waddington, Mt., IV-24; V-11; IX13
Wales, VII-23
Walsh, Mt., IV-17; VI-27
Wapack Range, II-77
\Vashburn, H. Bradford, IV-14, 20;
V-20; VI-7, 18, 23; VII-26; VIII70; IX-7
Washington, Mt., II-77, 79; VI-47,
51, 58, 62; VII-29; VIII-72
Watan, Mt., IX-49
Watatic, Mt., II-77
·Waterson, C., IV-11
Watson, Duke, VIII-47
Weatherford, Willis, VI-47, 50; VIII71
Weber, Jean, II-47
\Veiner, Herb, VI-50
Wessel, David, IX-53
\~T estmorland, H., VII-16
Wheeler, Mt., X-46
White Horse Ledge, VI-51, 54, 61
Whitney Gilman Route, VII-60;
VIII-72
Whitney, Hassler, VI-60; IX-21
Whitney, Mt., IV-28; VI-50
~liessner, Fritz, V-11
Wiessner Route, VI-60
Wilbur, George B., VI-41; VIII-75
Willard, Mt., VI-64
Willcox, Alanson, V-11
Williams, Mt., IX-15
[ 91 ]
Williamson, M t., 1V-2H
\Vilson, Dave, IX-9
\Vilson, Lee, VI-7
\~Tinchester, Leonard, IX-9
Wind River Range, V-39; X-74
\Vinship, Thomas, VI-7
Winthrop, Mt., VI, 39, 40
Wolf Creek Glacier, IV-17; VI-28
~Toad, Harrison IV-17
\Vood, Peter, X-54
Wood, Mt., IV-17; VI-27
Wood, Walter A., Jr., IV-17; V-15;
VI-27; VIII-71, IX-78, X-54
Wood Yukon Expedition, lV-17; V-22
~Toads, HenryS., IV-14
\Voolsey, Miss Elizabeth, V-11
[ 92]
\~Trangell Range, V-23;
~Tu!sin, Frederick R.,
VI-IS
Jr., VI-48;
VIII-75
y
Yahste-Tah-Shah, VIII-7
Yale Mountaineering Club, IX-18,
69; X-47
Yerupaja, X-25
Young, J. T., IV-6, 8
Yukon Territory, IV-17, 20; V-22;
VI-27; IX-78
z
Zennatt, IV-28
Zoji La, V-34