Over the next few days we watched the icefall and the wall, while further exploring the area by making two first ascents on peaks surrounding basecamp. Peter and I first went for a warm-up climb on the Northeast face Peak 8,900, located a short distance from BC.  The 3,500 foot face was mainly steep snow, with a couple short mixed pitches that went at M5.  It seems that we were likely the first party to ever summit this peak, and this being Pete’s first Alaskan climb, he got the honors of naming it “Rogue Peak”. Descending down a long snow gully to the south, Pete triggered a memorable windslab avalanche (In general we found the snow pack on the Yentna to be thinner and more unstable than elsewhere in the range – more continental than maritime).  Two days later, Ben was feeling better and so we decided to go investigate the alluring, Himalayan looking ridge at the head of the Northwest fork of the Yentna, for a final tune-up.  We had taken to calling this stunning, multi-summited ridge “the MANtok Group”.  At dawn on a perfect Alaskan morning we soloed up a thin, winding couloir that stretched down the east prow of the Mantoks’ northern summit. We climbed ninety percent of the route unroped, only belaying for two or three pitches of mixed climbing (again, M5). 

Feeling acclimatized to the area and ready, we packing for the main event.  Our plan was to run the gauntlet past the icefall early in the morning, bivy as close to the wall as we safely could, and then try to tackle the climb to the summit of the Fin the next day.  It was hard to know exactly what we would find, scoping the climb from eight miles away.  But it was clear that the upper Yentna would not be a safe place during a storm: we knew once we were past the ice fall we were committed.  

Twice we woke up at 3 AM, only to call it off because the weather looked unstable.  Finally, we were greeted by clear, cold stars.  We skied through the lower icefall to gain those slopes to the west, than took off our skis and carried them up a 40 degree snow couloir (heavy packs!), traversed over some cliff bands before dropping back down to the glacier. We had circumvented the icefall.  Skis and skins back on, we moved towards the face, generally trying to eye-ball a line in the middle of the glacier, as safe from serac fall as possible.  We stopped to discuss our options about a mile before the wall, but didn’t feel quite good enough about the spot to pitch camp. Ahead, the enormous serac that forms the lower right side of the face loomed threateningly.  It was off to the races: our only choice was to sprint past this objective hazard and find a bivy at the base of the wall. With Peter in the lead, we put our heads down and moved at a purposefully pace, not quite a sprint. After a hasty stop to cash our skis, we post-holed directly under the serac, moving up and left to gain elevation and get above the deposition zone as quickly as possible.  Finally, at the very bershrund, we stopped and caught our breath.  For the first time since we past the ice fall I felt totally safe from objective danger.  We scouted for the best spot to install our bivy, finally deciding to pitch our tent about a hundred meters above the schrund under a steep rock wall.  We were resting in our sleeping bags by 2 PM.