Climbing spring ice and rock on Glacier's Mount Wilbur

An echoing squeak rang out from the early morning darkness, bouncing off nearby walls of sedimentary Glacier rock. The sheer walls of Mount Wilbur awaited overhead, thankfully shrouded by a moonless night. 

The rhythmic crunch cried out from the hard névé snow, giving way to countless sharpened crampon points. My partner and I steadily climbed up the steep snowfield extending down from Wilbur’s summit until we reached the base of its great over-arching headwall. 

We established our first anchor of the day as the first light began illuminating the high peaks of the Many Glacier Valley. The morning sun began burning with a fiery vengeance of red alpenglow, igniting us on our small perch on this larger-than-life mountain. 

The first of three roped pitches was solved by a tenuous traverse around a snow mushroom to a delicate pillar of ice, with fantastic exposure to the valley floor below. As we worked up the thin pillar, it became crucial to stem out onto nearby rock, since the ice only allowed one foot at a time. 

As storm clouds brewed overhead, I led through the notorious “jump traverse” pitch and positioned us below the final summit pyramid. While a blizzard raged atop the final hundred feet of Wilbur, the last of our rope made its way out from my belay towards the summit, taking me along with it. 

Climbing through thin ice and loose rock, I eventually crested the summit ridge where my partner awaited, sitting feet from the summit cairn.

A rejoice was well deserved, though short-lived, as we were still atop one of Glacier's most prominent mountains amid a billowing spring storm. Descending, without incident, through long stints of down climbing and multiple traversing rappels eventually brought us safely back to the first perch, where the red morning sun greeted us many hours before.

We reached the safety of a gentle meadow below Wilbur, where we watched dozens of bighorn rams take turns head-butting each other, their thuds carrying to the upper reaches of the great summit we stood on hours before. 

Below the rams, and out of harm's way of a rogue headbutt, we finally were able to relax and embrace. We celebrated our teamwork and made our way down the trail into the brisk embrace of nightfall.

    Seth Anderson Photography
  

    Seth Anderson Photography
  

    Seth Anderson Photography