Three of us from Seattle, Steve Hindman, Paul Coronett, and I, had arrived in Reykjavik, Iceland, just the day before. We had signed up for an Exploratory Ski Mountaineering Expedition as it was called on the Pirhuk Expeditions website (https://www.expeditiongreenland.com). Our direct seven hour flight from Seattle to Reykjavik on Icelandair was shorter than I expected and we arrived early in the morning jet-lagged and chilled by the cold, windy, winter weather we encountered.
Despite the wintry conditions, the town including our guesthouse was completely full, so we spent the day walking around the city while we waited for our room at the Baldursbra Guesthouse to be ready. We soaked in one of the public outdoor pools located throughout the city while we waited— I’m convinced there is no better way to get over jet-lag than to soak in a natural geo-thermally heated outdoor pool while cold, crisp, wind whips overhead. Once the room was ready, we took a brief nap, and then went out for an unnaturally expensive dinner in the compact downtown area—about $35 USD for fish and chips and a beer! The guesthouse which was recommended by Matt Spenceley (owner of Pirhuk Expeditions and a fully accredited UIAGM mountain guide) was clean, offered a great breakfast, and was very well situated within walking distance to the compact Reykjavik downtown as well as to the domestic airport and bus terminal.
In the morning, we took a 30 Euro(!), 4 minute, taxi ride to the domestic airport where Air Iceland has regularly scheduled flights to four different locations in Greenland, and thus moved our enormous duffle and ski bags one step closer to our goal.
After months of fretting about gear and about whether my 61 year old body could still handle the demands of a two week ski mountaineering expedition, we were finally on a plane bound for the tiny village of Kulusuk—one of only two settlements along the 2,700 km long rugged and mountainous coastline of East Greenland. We had packed and re-packed our gear in the guesthouse the night before trying to get the impressive cold-weather packing list we had from Matt down to the <20kg limit per bag that Air Iceland demanded for the flight. Paul and I were planning to ski a few more weeks in Iceland when we got back, so we still had some gear we wouldn’t be needing over in Greenland so the owner of the guesthouse let us leave a duffle while we were gone.
The flight was delayed while weather in Greenland cleared and that gave us the first chance to meet the other clients for our trip: Tim and Holly, a young couple from Melbourne, Australia; and Blake, a Brit from Sussex, England. Tim and Holly were both emergency room doctors whose penchant for travel off the beaten path was admirable— Sierra Leone, Ghana, North Korea(!), Uzbekistan,Pakistan, Iran, Georgia, to name a few. Holly had also lived and worked in Africa before she had gone to medical school. On this trip they were taking leave of absence for 6 months and planned to ski Mount Elbrus in Russia (5,600 M) and then Muztagh-ata in China (7,500M!) along the way. They both volunteer with the local ski patrol at the skihill near their home. Tim described some of the conditions they ski there and it sounds like you have to be either a committed skier or actually committed! The common uniform is a calf length waterproof poncho and rubber dishwashing gloves to deal with all the rain and wet snow they get! Blake was Chief Officer on a 75 meter yacht owned by a Russian Oligarch when he wasn’t playing somewhere in the mountains. He has a degree in civil engineering, but he chose to work on boats instead and for the last 7-8 years he has been working on mega yachts working 2-3 months on then 2-3 months off to get his fix in the mountains! The youth of our companions compared to the three of us from Seattle (Steve had just turned 60, I was 61, and Paul- the youngest of our group at 53) made me wonder once again what the hell was I doing planning on dragging a 80-100 pound expedition sled around the wilds of Greenland at my age! Originally scheduled for 9am, our flight finally took off around 2 pm. Flights are commonly delayed since the weather in Greenland is often epic as we would soon learn. Come to think of it, the weather in Iceland isn’t any picnic either, and flights are often delayed due to conditions there as well, but the pilots seem to be quite comfortable flying in these challenging conditions. Passengers— maybe not so much!
The flight to Greenland was full of tourists going to one or more of the Greenlandic adventure tours now available. There was our group of six; a number of people going to dog sled; some just visiting the nearby town of Kulusuk; and there was another large group of skiers that were with a helicopter ski operation that had recently started up there as well. All this meant that the flight was completely full as were all the flights to Greenland this time of year.
As we approached the Kulusuk airport in the small 40 seat Bombardier Dash turboprop we got a good look at the sea ice that looked pretty dodgy with lots of broken areas— not something that one could sled over or boat through— so we were definitely concerned about whether this was going to affect our trip. Kulusuk is situated on a small island at the head of two fjords surrounded by sea ice and mountains as far as you could see. Matt met us at the airport and we skied about 30 minutes to the small town where he and his wife, Helen, have one of the small basic wooden houses they have fixed up both as their home and lodge. They work hard on the house each year when time permits making it weathertight to withstand the severe conditions as well as remodeling and additions to enable more clients to stay there. Other tourists were met by the local taxi service that consisted of either dogsleds or snow machines— I wonder if any of these could be summoned using Uber?
One thing that was immediately apparent as we skied over to the town was that Matt never went anywhere without a gun strapped to his back. As we would find out, polar bears were a constant threat and four had been shot right in town this winter— one had been shot right near the airport just the day before we arrived! Throughout the entire trip, we maintained strict protocols to watch for and deter any bears that we might run into while skiing or in camp. We even maintained an all-night vigil the entire time we were camping with each of us taking turns staying awake an hour or so each night outside of the tents with a small marine flare at the ready. Although we didn’t see any bears while we were there, Matt has seen them on a number of occasions on these trips and another group that was just across the fjord from us at the same time as us had a bear that came through their camp while they were out skiing one day. Matt and Helen also had two Greenlandic dogs that accompanied us under the premise that they would alert us if a bear was in the vicinity. Even though the dogs were young and inexperienced, I’m sure their instincts would kick in if a bear was around. Perhaps it may be difficult for some people to understand the killing of polar bears, but aside from the obvious danger of bears walking around the town, the Inuit have hunted and fished in this area for thousands of years, and polar bear hunting in particular plays a prominent role within their society.
After having a quick lunch, Matt got right into some issues with the weather that we would be facing. Of primary concern was a major storm that was forecast to begin late the next day. Extreme winds that Matt described as “terrifying”would be whipping down along the coast through the Denmark Strait. The storm would continue throughout the day on Monday before subsiding Tuesday. Then, after one day respite, a Pitteraq would come off the ice cap and come roaring down any place a natural gap exists for the air mass to reach the ocean. Matt described these winds as “absolutely terrifying.” They are unique to Greenland, and the word means “that which attacks you” in the local Inuit language and winds reach speeds of well over 100 mph. What this all meant was we would have to thread the needle between these storm events to get up the fjord safely to get to the start of our planned expedition. The last bit of the puzzle was whether the end of the fjord was free of ice or not, which would dictate whether or not it was possible to take a boat from town or if we had to go by snow machine across the ice first to a place where we could meet a boat from up north.
So, to summarize, if the end of the fjord was open, we could go the next morning and hope to boat up the fjord to the start point— ski up on to a glacier, set up camp, dig in, wait out the storm, ski Tuesday, hope the Pitteraq wasn’t that severe there, stay put Wednesday…. then spend the rest of the time watching out for Polar Bears! Or, conversely, if the boat driver didn’t want to risk it, we could wait out the first storm, wait until Tuesday when the winds that would come Monday from the Northeast would clear out the ice, boat up the fjord between the “terrifying” and “absolutely terrifying” wind storms, get to camp before the Pitteraq, dig in, and hope that we were someplace that didn’t have a gap off the ice cap… then spend the rest of the trip watching out for Polar Bears! In and amongst all this, we also hoped to get some skiing in too!
I was beginning to appreciate how difficult it would be to come here on your own and try to navigate the logistics of the weather, the ice, arranging a native boat driver and/or snow machine as needed, just to get to where you could then start worrying about the mountains, the snow and avalanche conditions… and polar bears! Matt had operated here in Kulusuk for 17 years, was a fully accredited UIAGM Guide, and was familiar with all these challenges. Plus, he and his wife Helen were full partners with some of the most knowledgeable native hunters in the area— Georg and his family— who were indispensable to getting to and from the expedition and trip locations. I was very impressed with how well Matt worked through all these challenges and just as impressed by the local knowledge of Georg and the other native Inuit. Without exaggeration, the East Greenland Inuit have come from the stone age to the modern age within two generations, and their ability to blend the knowledge that they have accumulated through living in this harsh environment for generations with modern technical know-how was truly remarkable.
4/16 Easter Sunday
The decision was made then to not go up the fjord to the expedition start-site the next day and to instead ski a nearby peak from Kulusuk. We towed in across the sea ice in the bay behind a snow machine driven by Georg— the Kulusuk rope toe! We climbed a small peak up a glacier that came down to the sea ice skinning up most of the way until we transitioned to ice axe and crampons. It was a glaciated peak just across the inlet with fantastic views all around! From the top we could see the Ice cap to the West, the ocean to the East, and mountains as far as you could see to the North and the South! The East coast of Greenland is extremely remote with spectacularly beautiful mountains formed from some of the oldest rocks on earth rising 3000 ft from the sea. The mountain chain is unbroken for almost the entire length of this rugged coast that extends for 1,700 miles from the southern tip to the far north. Although only a few miles from town, you could see very little evidence of man or his effect on the environment and this served as a reminder that we were in one of the harshest and most sparsely populated areas on earth.
There are only about 3,500 permanent residents along the entire East coast of Greenland, most of whom are native Inuit with some Danes thrown in for good measure. Although Greenland voted for home-rule in 1979 and even more independence in 2008, it is still dependent on supplies and services from Denmark, which provides for about two-thirds of the islands economic needs as well as healthcare and education in what has been described as a paternalistic welfare state. Denmark’s claim to Greenland is mainly due to a historical claim stemming from the Norwegian Vikings that settled on the Southwest coast in the 10th century, beginning with the voyage of Erik the Red from west Iceland in 985. These settlements lasted until the 15th century when these once thriving colonies mysteriously vanished. (http://icelandmag.visir.is/article/what-happened-viking-settlement-greenland-new-research-shows-cooling-weather-not-a-factor). In 1721, an expedition led by Danish-Norwegian missionary Hans Egede was sent to Greenland, not knowing whether a Norse civilization still remained there. This established a territorial claim that defaulted to Denmark when the Kingdom of Norway was ceded to Sweden in the Treaty of Kiel which persisted even through WWII and has resulted in the present state of affairs. From conversations with Matt as well as some of local Inuit, many Greenlanders are keen for complete independence from Denmark to apply their traditions of self-reliance instead of the distant, light-handed, control by the Danish government. They would prefer to create their own institutions; negotiate their own investment opportunities; and solve their social challenges through education, opportunity, community health, and self-determination. I am betting on the hard-working, smart, savvy, and community minded people that I met to enable this to happen.
Since over 80% of the landmass is covered by an ice-cap that is up to 2 miles thick in places, habitation on the East Coast is confined to a thin band along the coast where there are only two areas that presently support settlements: Ittoqqortoormiit in the North (called Scoresbysund in older maps and also the area my father was based in WWII); and Ammassalik in the South— which includes the nearby town of Kulusuk where we were based. The history of East Greenland reflects the extremely harsh environment and there is evidence of multiple influxes of early native cultures inhabiting this rugged coast as far back as 2,500 BC who have all subsequently vanished. Around 1200 AD, another native culture group, the Thule, arrived from the west from Alaska, having emerged there 200 years earlier. They settled the southern areas of Greenland and ranged over vast areas of Greenland’s west and east coasts. These people, the ancestors of today’s modern Inuit inhabitants, were superb hunters on land and sea, including seals, walrus, whale, and polar bear. Unlike earlier cultures, they had dogs which they used to pull sledges and for hunting large game. In addition to the innovation of dogs that enabled survival in this harsh world, they also brought with them the kayak which is considered one of the most ingenious hunting machines ever devised.
We came back to Kulusuk, enjoyed a makeshift Easter dinner at Matt and Helen’s, and then sat out the next day in the comfort of their home as the first storm blew through. As the projected 100 mph winds whipped through the town outside we were safe and secure inside reading or reviewing skills such as crevasse rescue that we might need on the expedition. Matt had to rush out in the middle of the worst of it when his business partner and friend, Mugu, had the windows in his own house blow out! Matt and he were fortunately able to attach plywood over the broken window as a temporary fix right during the worst of the storm. By late afternoon, just as predicted, the winds abated enough that a number of us ventured out and walked up to an overlook above the town to see if the fjord was open for the next day which would make travel easier.
4/18 Tuesday
This was it! We were ready to go but the sea ice was blocking the fjord so no boats from Kulusuk could be used. Matt was able to contact an Icelandic fisherman- Siggy- from a small community to the north (Kuumiut) who had a larger boat that he could park at the edge of the ice as long as we could get across the bay using snow machines. Siggy is a burly gruff older Icelander who lives full time in Kuumiut with his young Inuit wife and their children. He came tearing across the soft but still somewhat solid ice in his powerful snow-machine towing a cargo sled. He was in a hurry to get back across the ice with us before: A) the ice deteriorated further; and B) the ice that his boat was anchored to gave way! Great! We piled an insane amount of expedition gear onto the cargo sled, then 3 of the party jumped on the cargo sled with two more behind Siggy in the sled. Siggy took off into the snow and wind with almost zero visibility at a breakneck pace, constantly standing up and squinting into the sleet and fog— no goggles!— to look for landmarks that were nowhere to be found. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Georg’s son, Mugu, came up to us on the side in another sled waving wildly that we were off-course and had to go more to the right! We learned later that we were heading straight towards deteriorated ice that could have swallowed the sled. Mugu then signaled to follow him and he took off in a different angle than the way we had been heading. Just about then, the cargo sled starting bogging down into the mush and we came to a stop. Siggy jumped off in soft ice up to his knees and crawled back to unhook the sled after which we just took off leaving the 3 party members and gear behind!
When the two of us remaining on the sled arrived at the boat at the edge of the ice, we jumped off— up to our knees in the soft pack ice!— and climbed the ladder up to the boat— safe at last. Siggy took off back into the storm to go retrieve the sled and it took at least 30 minutes or so before he was able to make it back with the 3 other members. We learned that when they got off the sled they were up to their knees in the deteriorating ice and worried that they might go through! Tim, the Australian Doctor who seems at home with all manner of deadly animals or dicey travel conditions said that he was definitely outside of his comfort zone! At any rate, we managed to get their gear below decks carrying the hundred pound sleds and then proceeded to wait for Helen, Matt, Holly, the two dogs, and the remaining gear. Another 30 minutes passed before they came out of the fog and snow— apparently they experienced some more drama as one of the dogs jumped off the sled and got dragged behind by his collar for quite some time before they could get Siggy’s attention. The poor dog was pretty traumatized when they finally arrived. We finally got everyone on board, including the dogs who didn’t want to have anything with getting carried up the ladder, the gear down in the hold, and then finally the sled was picked up with a hoist and placed on deck. Although it seemed like a three-ring shit-show during the process, all in all, it was a pretty effective way of getting to and from the frozen ice. We then proceeded up the fjord finally to our destination— a remote bay leading to some even more remote mountain valleys that Matt had targeted for this year’s two week expedition. We chugged along at a stately pace up the fjord and the weather soon calmed as we got away from the mouth of the fjord. We stopped briefly to pick up two skiffs that would be used to land us on to our start site and finally arrived just as it was getting dark. The next storm was starting as we landed and we unloaded all the gear, lugged it up about 1/2 mile to the top of a hill above the fjord and then proceeded to dig in and set up camp in case the winds came that night. The day finally ended around 11 pm after we had set up camp and choked down a quick dinner and then collapsed into our tents for the night. Not before finding out though that we still had to alternate staying awake all night for polar bear watch! Somehow, it worked out though, and during my hour at 4 am I was finally able to write down some random thoughts about what all had happened that day!
4/19 Wednesday
The day dawned clear and cold and we brushed the foot or so of new snow that accumulated overnight off of the tents. As we looked around at the amazing place that we were now going to spend the remainder of our trip exploring, we finally understood why we had put so much effort and planning to get here. There were mountains and glaciers all around with unlimited potential and we were the only people as far as you could see in any direction– it was truly privileged space. The next 11 days were filled with exploring our new surroundings, skiing incredible lines in an unexplored area, and dealing with the next strong storm system that rolled in about a week later.
We moved camp once further up the valley so that we could access mountains at the head of that valley. We did two exploratory trips from there that included our highest point of the trip. Not quite a peak but still enough of a high point that I fulfilled my wish of naming it after my dad. It will never appear as such on any maps nor in any records other than this, but at least I have the satisfaction of calling a Greenlandic peak after him– Peak Walter West– kind of a unique ring to it I would say!
We had to be cautious due to the new snow that had fallen with wind but throughout the trip we were still able to ski some big lines on un-skied peaks– quite an experience. As the trip progressed we got into the rhythm of taking our turns sometime during the night of watching for polar bears, eating meals and sharing stories in the spacious cook tent, and then heading out during the day to explore a new valley or peak.
Towards the end of the trip, Matt got word through sat phone with his partners that there was another storm moving through that would be particularly unpleasant since it would be arriving as a warm front bringing rain as well as wind. The decision was made to reverse tracks and get back to the water where we would be picked up by zodiacs and then brought back down the fjord where we could then move our gear again to a shelter that Matt had erected in order to wait out the storm and dry out. It wasn’t on the agenda but it was a necessary move once we saw the extent of that storm.
We stayed another day in the shelter until the storm passed, and then moved one final time back to the town of Kulusuk since yet another storm was coming through and Matt didn’t want to take the chance of us being stranded up the fjord when our flight back to Iceland was to arrive. We spent the last two nights back at their house where we had a great final day skiing on another nearby peak as well as enjoying pizza night with Chef Matt showing of his cooking talents!
All in all, it was an amazing trip. Even though the weather was challenging and the amount of effort to get to and from the skiing was difficult, exploring such a remote area gave us a slight taste of what exploring an untrammeled area was like. Of course there is no way to compare this with the rigors of a true expedition, but perhaps it was just enough of a taste that it satisfied my curiosity in that regard!
