What else can you say about our first trip to Alaska in 1979 except it was a debacle: Don (NPS mandated foursome) was a whimp and slow so the Cassin was out; we got a bad batch of blazo for our stoves in Talkeetna; the white gas leaked and tainted our four week supply of fruitcake; the stove blew up; never mix and match snowshoes and skis in the same expedition.
There was some good news though: three of us have remained friends; the green puffy parka that I lent Mike when his sleeping bag burned up still warms me on belays; it is clear that if you have enough single malt stashed on the kahiltna glacier you can trade for almost anything (except a stove).
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