Vinson Massif - Part I

December 2022, Chile - Mount Vinson, the highest peak on earth’s forgotten Antarctic continent, was discovered by aircraft as recently as 1958. Isolated in a sea of ice, the 16,050-foot peak, also referred to as Vinson Massif, was only first climbed in 1966 making it the last of the seven summits to be climbed. On account of its remoteness, Vinson has seen approximately 3,500 people reach its summit which is roughly half of the people who have climbed Mount Everest.

Located in the aptly named Sentinel Range, Vinson shares its lonely and foreboding perch with frankly much more challenging mountaineering objectives including Mount Shinn and Mount Tyree, the latter of which has seen a mere seven recorded ascents. These peaks overlook an endless expanse of ice in all directions and are located at the base of the Antarctic peninsula a full 1,600 miles from the tip of South America.

Traveling from my home in Seattle, I arrived in the remote outpost of Punta Arenas, Chile on December 26, 2022, which serves as the jumping off point to Antarctica. This charming, if not sleepy, windswept city is located on the gusty shore of the Straight of Magellan and is the southernmost city with a population exceeding 100,000 people. Punta Arenas enjoys a picturesque central square and colonial architecture with a handful of restaurants and coffee shops with even fewer worth visiting more than once. 

"Isolated in a sea of ice, the 16,050-foot peak, also referred to as Vinson Massif, was only first climbed in 1966 making it the last of the seven summits to be climbed"

While the original Antarctic explorers the likes of Shackleton and Amundson among others committed years and immense resources to attempt their expeditions, modern Antarctic explorers face considerably fewer logistical challenges and discomfort. Today, reaching Antarctica from Punta Arenas begins with a flight aboard a chartered Boeing 757 flying over the Southern Ocean to the blue ice runway at Union Glacier Camp. From there, climbers looking to reach Mount Vinson take a short 45-minute flight aboard antique but reliable de Havilland Otter aircraft on skis to basecamp. These unique travel arrangements are coordinated by a firm called Antarctic Logistics & Expeditions (ALE) who run their operation out of Salt Lake City and Punta Arenas. 

The day after my arrival, I connected with the other three client members of my team: Devon, Bel, and Sid. Together we were to be guided by Mike Hamill and his Climbing the Seven Summits guide service. So, while ALE would get us to and from Mount Vinson, Mike would be the one to lead us safely up the mountain itself. Mike was already on the continent finishing his first of two trips that season and would meet us at Union Glacier upon our arrival. In the interim, a local guide named Pedro showed us around town and helped us get briefed and checked in with ALE. 

At the time, ALE had strict guidelines pertaining to Covid and each of us was required to pass a Covid test prior to departing. I was quite nervous about this part, as a positive test would mean an immediate trip home with no refund of the many thousands of dollars I spent on the trip. In my life I never half assed a Covid test like I did that day, and as fortune would have it, my results came back negative and I was cleared to fly.

"The plane took off turbulently and banked south toward the bottom of the world"

After two days in Punta Arenas, at last we were on our way to Union Glacier. A bus picked us and dozens of other Antarctica bound travelers up from across town and after checking in through security were taken out to the plane waiting for us on the tarmac. The wind was howling with gusts above 50 MPH that nearly blew me away as I walked up the stairs to board the plane. Seated together, a few rows back from climbing royalty including Alex Honnold and Garrett Madison, myself, Devon, Bel, and Sid gripped our seats as the plane took off turbulently and banked south toward the bottom of the world.

A few hours into the flight an excited murmur ran though the cabin as Antarctica came into view. And there it was, land beyond the edge of the map with stark wind scoured mountains and a jagged escarpment of ice calving icebergs into the deep blue ocean below. 

As the plane approached Union Glacier, we donned warm clothing and our climbing boots with a giddy excitement. I positioned myself at a window seat as we flew past the Sentinel Range and banked right to line up with the blue ice runway, the small dots of Union Glacier Camp’s tents and equipment coming into closer view. Prior to landing the captain warned us that the landing would not feel “normal” and cautioned it would feel much bumpier with a longer runout. Easing the plane down we landed with a small jolt followed by a gentle swaying motion as the plane rolled over gentle hummocks in the ice, eventually coming to a complete stop and turning around to head back up the runway where a small warming hut and a group of vehicles were waiting to take us to Union Glacier Camp itself a few miles away.

When the plane’s doors opened an icy blast entered the cabin and I was happy to have my warm climbing gear on, and after a short but impatient wait, I walked down the stairs from the rear of the plane and stepped foot in Antarctica for the first time. It was a remarkable feeling and at that moment I had officially visited all seven continents on earth. From the bottom of the stairs I gingerly walked across the blue ice to the warming hut, careful not to aggravate my back which I had badly injured just six months prior to the trip. Hopping into a customized F-350 we were driven to Union Glacier Camp taking in the surreal vastness of the scenery along the way. 

Set against a backdrop of imposing mountain slopes, white snow, deep blue sky, and the penetrating sun of the 24-hour austral summer, Union Glacier Camp is a site to behold. A seasonal outpost of Quonset and clamshell style tents, the camp includes a mess hall and commercial kitchen, restrooms, a library, and a small fleet of snow cats and other equipment required to set up, maintain, and tear down the operation each year.  Adjacent to camp is a secondary ice airstrip where smaller planes service ALE’s “domestic” services to not only Mount Vinson but trips to the South Pole and Emperor Penguin colonies among other locations.

Many Vinson climbers end up overnighting at Union Glacier Camp upon arrival but the weather at Vinson Basecamp was ideal so the plan was to grab a quick meal and fly in that afternoon. I have an endemic case of “get-there-itis” and was thrilled to be headed to the mountain to allow for more weather (or other) contingency days.

"Vinson is not a terribly difficult climb from a physical or technical standpoint, but at first glance it sure looked intimidating and somehow more lifeless and sterile that a “normal” mountain"

The Otters were making roughly 90-minute cycles between Union Glacier and Mount Vinson and we jumped into the second rotation. As the plane slid down the runway and took flight we were treated to more intimate views of unclimbed sub peaks and wind scoured ridges on one side of the plane, and to paraphrase Buzz Aldrin, the magnificent desolation of the Ronne Ice Shelf on the other. After approximately 45 minutes of me rubbernecking out the window, the plane banked towards a series of taller peaks, Mount Vinson among them, whose summits towered many thousands of feet above the plane’s altitude. Suddenly the landing strip and a dozen or so tents at Vinson Basecamp came into view, flanked by Mount Vinson’s imposing cliffs, ice seracs, and ancient crevassed glaciers. 

Vinson is not a terribly difficult climb from a physical or technical standpoint, but at first glance it sure looked intimidating and somehow more lifeless and sterile that a “normal” mountain. The plane’s engines throttled down, the skis touched, and after an incredible journey in its own right I had made it to Mount Vinson and one of the most remote campsites on earth.