đź“– Story Time đź“Ť Triumvirate Glacier, Alaska
I’m a city girl who until recently didn’t even own a pair of proper hiking shoes until my last trip to Alaska. I’ve twisted ankles walking across smooth flat pavement in good weather and never thought of myself as the kind of surefooted person who could confidently traverse remote glaciers. But I do love trying new things, so an opportunity to climb America’s most remote via ferrata was something I couldn’t refuse.
Of course, I did have to look up via ferrata before getting on a United Airlines flight from Newark to Anchorage, spending a night and taking a 40-minute float plane ride to the Tordrillo Mountain Lodge on Alaska’s Judd Lake the next morning. Tordrillo opened a via ferrata — Alaska’s first — on the Triumvirate Glacier in the Tordrillo Mountains in 2019.
What is a via ferrata?
Via ferrata is an Italian term that means iron path. Via ferratas began to appear during World War I, providing a way to move troops around the Dolomites in Italy.
Via ferrata climbers can expect to find a route made of steel cable and iron rungs built into rock. Climbers wear harnesses and attach themselves to the cable, which doubles as a climbing aid, via carabiner clips. Via ferratas are known for making otherwise dangerous climbing routes far less risky, allowing inexperienced climbers like myself to explore the realm of serious mountaineers.
While there are more than a thousand via ferrata routes in Europe, they are far more rare in the U.S., which is home to about a dozen of them. Tordrillo spent years working on its via ferrata, flying in Italian builders to tackle the project after spending more than a year working to secure the required permits.
Tordrillo’s via ferrata is the country’s most remote and the first to open in Alaska. It encompasses 1,200 feet of steel cable built into a solid granite crag 4,000 feet above sea level. It’s located 80 miles from the nearest road and reachable only by helicopter, effectively making the public climbing trail an exclusive experience for Tordrillo guests.Â
YOLO
As a beginner who hasn’t even climbed a rock wall at a plush city gym, I was pretty sure I wasn’t even going to attempt the 900-foot vertical climb. But flying in a helicopter over the Alaskan interior with its seemingly endless unspoiled forests, blue ice and pristine lagoons made me feel just out of my element enough to think about it.
It wasn’t the climbing or the thousands of feet between my feet and the ground below that scared me. As a novice climber, I didn’t think I had it in me to make it to the top. Despite having spent hundreds of hours in exercise classes, at the gym and walking miles across some of the most interesting cities in the world in recent years, I didn’t think I was physically capable of scaling the cliff in front of me.
But the horizontal practice path at the bottom of the trail — along with a patient guide and the carabiner clips attached to my harness — gave me the courage to try. I fully expected to make it a few steps and come scrambling back down as fast as I could when I realized what I was attempting.
Better Than A Trust Fall
Trust isn’t something that comes easy to me, especially when it’s myself and my abilities I have to trust. But climbing a via ferrata requires trust not just in oneself but also in the mechanisms designed to provide for a safe climb.
And what I will remember most about this climb isn’t the majesty of nature surrounding this remote spot, or the feeling of accomplishment and awe when I got to the top. It is hearing my guide Brandon Cole’s voice telling me to trust myself and to trust my equipment.
As I was climbing, there were moments when it felt natural, like I had fallen into the rhythm of the climb. There were moments when I could feel the strength I had gained from the hours I had spent in the gym in recent years. And there were a couple of moments when I felt a pair of hands cupped beneath my feet to give my petite body the boost I needed to take the next step.
It wasn’t until the very end that I really thought I couldn’t make it. It was just me, the best guide I could have asked for and what looked like a tightrope about 1,000 feet above a crevice over an immaculate swath of beautiful blue ice.
I could almost feel a panic attack coming on, but I knew my best option was to face my fears, to calm my soul and to trust myself and those around me. Cole steadied my walking path. I said a little prayer and slowly inhaled, exhaled and did it all over again. And just like that, I had accomplished something I never expected I could.
