[Outlook] tunes with Sue, John Varco, Ben guitar. I just strum and sing the and Zoe for hours. Sue told me lyrics, but no one notices.” about her near-death accident, “Meat,” the co-owner of a during which a falling ice pillar, Talkeetna motel, heaved a log on one of Vail’s mixed routes, the size of his F-250 into the fire, impaled her abdomen. I didn’t stood on the flaming log, held know Sue well; in fact, I had up his beer and screamed, “I’m only met her twice. I was riv- one-quarter Athabascan!” eted by her stories. She was very His girlfriend stood next to energetic and unbelievably me wearing a tight camouflage excited. Her partner, Karen T-shirt that read “Pornstar” in McNeill, was due to arrive in glitter paint across her chest. a few days to join her on an After Meat’s ancestral proc- attempt on the Infinite Spur, lamation she punched my arm Mount Foraker. and yelled into my face, “He Two weeks later my partner really is, you know. You better Eric and I returned from Denali’s respect it.” 14,000-foot camp after a failed attempt on Thunder Ridge. “the only Sue and Karen had left the day before for their climb. We pulled thing more our cache from Sue’s tent and left her a thank-you note. Our interesting plans to climb the Mini-Moon- flower during our last day on the glacier were stymied by a flurry than of seracs that persistently calved off Mount Hunter, pounding the Climbing valley below. One enormous in alaska is slide had brushed Ben and his partner as they scouted Hunter’s meeting the North Ridge. We settled for a loCals!” short route on Mount Frances, on which we had our own heels sue said. dusted by an avalanche, and flew back to Talkeetna. “Respect what?” I asked. After the requisite shower and Pornstar rolled her eyes. burger at the West Rib Bar, we “Athabascan. You know, we’re headed to the town park on the all descendants of Athabascan. shores of the Talkeetna River. It Even Jesus was.” was 10 p.m. and the sky was as Fern, whom I hadn’t seen bright as day. Walking by a group since she invited us into the huddled on a giant log beside a party, walked up with a plastic campfire, I heard a voice. bag and pulled out a dead trout “Don’t be shy,” an old woman the length of my arm, saying, said to me from her perch on “Larry caught it for me.” the log. She winked once and “I’d love to catch one of those,” took a pull from a bottle of wine. I said. “My name is Fern. Come on and “Larry!” she screamed. “Take join us.” I walked over. Fern this boy fishing!” passed me her wine; I took a Larry was the son of a famous sip and gave it back. Alaskan bush pilot, but he turned “Nice here, isn’t it?” Fern asked. out to be a bit more peculiar “Yes,” I said, looking at the than his charismatic father, the last horizon. The sun cast orange with a flat, medicated affect light across the giant peaks on and an odd facial tick that rang the skyline. of instability. Larry sped over By midnight no one was sober. from the other side of the fire “One Tooth Guy” was quibbling on his ATV, clinching a basset- with Shannon, a loud, ruthless hound puppy by the neck as he musher who was calling him the rounded the giant log. He grabbed moonset “ugliest piece of shit I’ve ever my arm, pulled me aboard and by bRIAN IRWIN seen.” “Tauras the Guitarist,” sped down the riverbank to his As soon As we lAnded ropes and duffels. Everyone Sue laughed, then turned and recognizable in similar forms fishing hole. We didn’t catch any on the Kahiltna Glacier we ran was sitting comfortably on asked if I’d ever hung out in across the country as that crazy fish, but his dog, Hershey Bar, into a familiar face from home, foam pads. Sue lounged in her Talkeetna, from which we had guitar guy you see in parks, fell in the icy river twice. in New Hampshire. pink jacket next to her friend just departed. I hadn’t. strumming away as he stands Around 3 a.m. the town’s kin- Ben Gilmore greeted us, “Come Zoe Hart, sipping cherry Kool- “Just wait until you get back alone, was breaking strings left dergarten teacher jumped on a on up and hang out! The girls Aid and vodka, recalling their there and spend a day or two. and right. I asked him to play log and yelled, “It’s happening!” just came off Hunter. It’s cock- attempt of Deprivation. The only thing more interest- some Ben Harper. Everyone by the fire cheered tail hour.” “Send it! Arrrghh!’” Zoe ing than climbing in Alaska is Tauras said loudly, “I don’t and ran down by the river. We We entered Sue Nott’s giant mock-screamed at her as she meeting the locals! You’re going have any of that, but how about followed. The gang stopped in dome tent, its edges sprinkled took a sip of the ratty cocktail. to love it,” she said. We sipped some Byrds?” He leaned in and a clearing and stared into the with piles of freeze-dried meals, “Remember that?” whiskey and listened to Ozzy whispered, “I can’t really play the southwestern sky. The moon was 32 roc k an dic e.co m | 07 January illustration by jeremy collins [outlook] Cherry Kool-Aid, pink jacket; Sue Nott and Karen McNeill in their element before starting the Infinite Spur. enormous, a rich amber hue, but were hit just below the sum- hung up in the trees south of mit by winds estimated to be town. Everyone stood in silence, in excess of 100 mph. (The loss even Meat, as the moon sunk of the pack and the women’s below the horizon for the last disappearance appear to have time this spring. It wouldn’t occurred separately.) Over presented by rise again until autumn. the next week I followed the We stayed by the river until ongoing search very closely. sunrise. As the outline of the The more I dug for new informa- Alaska Range emerged on the tion or promising findings, the horizon I stared at Mount For- more I realized that although aker. It was Sue and Karen’s there were theories, the third day on the Infinite Spur. incident may always remain My eyes shifted to Denali. A a tragic mystery. lenticular cloud was building Sitting at my tiny desk, I over its summit. In the days drifted between idyllic mem- to come, a storm packed with ories of my expedition and hurricane-force winds would images of Sue’s pink jacket. Occasionally I’d stumble onto a website that had a photo of i realized Sue, grinning widely, wear- that although ing it, or an aerial photo there were that showed the jacket atop an avalanche-debris pile at theories, the base of the Infinite Spur. January 10 Every time I saw a photo of the inCident that jacket I felt a lump in may always my throat. I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I remember telling Sue, that January 15 remain night in her giant tent, that my wife would be jealous of a tragiC her pink jacket. mystery. I vividly recall the bound- ing metronome of my pulse envelop both peaks. in my temples as we plodded A week later I was back up the glacier. The sensation at work. of swinging into Denali’s cold, My wife, Carolyn, called my brittle ice. The deafening roar cell phone. and bitter aerosolized snow- • Ice Park - Open mid-Decem- sbinderdesigns.com “Brian, did you hear about filled wind gusts of Hunter’s ber through March; go to Sue Nott and her partner? avalanches that poured up ourayicepark.com for They’re missing on a mountain and over Radio Control Tower. conditions, membership in Alaska. Didn’t you just see And the charm of Sue Nott’s information and discounts them up there?” giggle over a Kool-Aid cock- I scrambled to contact friends tail as she relaxed against a • Open competition: Qualifying from Denali’s National Park bright orange tent wall while Jan. 10-11; finals Jan. 13. Service patrol, guides and the sun slipped behind the local climbers, trying to find ridgeline and the coldness • Clinics hosted by elite athletes out what happened. I read of the mountains rose from with free use of the latest about findings—boot tracks the valley. < gear high on Foraker, the recovery of a pack from the base of the Brian Irwin is a family phy- Complete information regarding festival, • Slack line open to all yo route—and the belief that sician from North Conway, ma the women surmounted the New Hampshire. This was clinics and competition: • Evening presentations by: technical section of their route his first trip to Alaska. will Jack Tackle - Jan. 11; Vince Anderson - Jan. 12; Artwork and lay-out courtesy of Sophie Binder . sbinder www.ourayicefestival.com Mark Wilford - Jan. 13, and John Varco - Jan. 14 34 roc k an dic e.co m | 07 January.