Benign

I work up at 2AM on the second longest day of the year and left the house at 2:30AM, heading towards Eklutna Lake all on my own.  I invited friends on this trip, but no one took me up on the offer, so I had to settle for the company of my second-favorite person in the world: myself! The Weather Underground forecast called for “PM Showers” at 30%, but the local trend had been clear mornings with clouding afternoons. A few mountain forecasts estimated clear skies, so I was fairly confident there would be a weather window for an ascent of Benign Peak. I’d been eyeing this one for a while, besides Bold it seemed like the only other “easy” B peak, with little bushwacking required.

The drive to Eklutna Lake took an hour or less. I saddled up at the parking lot and was biking by 4AM, circumnavigating the lake before the sun hit the glassy water.  I parked my bike in the woods 12.5 miles from the parking lot, just past the Serenity Falls sign, behind a nice large boulder and I geared up to ascend Benign Peak.  I’ve never attempted this peak, but I’ve been climbing the Chugach since I was 18 and it seemed within my skillset. I researched this route extensively and felt confident I was prepared for everything I’d encounter–I even brought a 30m rope and harness in case I needed to rappel! William Finley’s and Nate Bannish’s blogs were very helpful in preparing for this peak (except Nate’s time estimates were absurd, I don’t move as that fast).

William’s blog: https://www.akmountain.com/2014/09/25/benign-peak/
Nate’s blog: https://blog.chillychugach.com/2018/06/benign-peak-what-way-to-finish-off-4.html

Around 5:45AM I had refueled and repacked, ready to start gaining elevation. There is something incredibly satisfying about carrying everything you need on your back. My backpack contained: a rope, harness, crampons, summer gaitors, 3.5L of water (I drank it ALL and filled up 1L en route), a 750mL bottle of electrolytes, a sweatshirt, a rain jacket, work gloves, fleece mittens, and my camera resting on top. In the brain I had a bunch of snacks, truck/bike keys, and an inreach. On the outside I hung bear spray from my chest strap and had a small airhorn on my hyperlite phone pouch. An airhorn (bearhorn?) has been my preferred anti-bear tool for the last year since I used them effectively multiple times in the Portage Lake area. My wife Claire is always very concerned about bears when I go into the mountains, I am becoming moreso. Thanksfully, this short stretch of trees between the bike and mountain portions of the day was my biggest concern for that hazard but presented nothing furry to obstruct my quick passage.

There was about 700 horizontal feet of forest between my bike and the first of many scree slopes ascending the mountain, which took a little more than 5 minutes to cross (I had budgeted an hour). After my experiences bushwacking up Byron Peak, I have yet to encounter any brush that was comparable; this was a short walk with a few patches of devil’s club. Once at the bottom of the prominent scree gully, I began my slow, laborious climb. Today would involve over 6,000′ of elevation gain (from 1,000′ to 7,234′) so I did not push myself to go fast, I just maintained a consistent pace.  Around 1,800′ I took the hidden left fork to access Chockstone Gully, which started as mostly a subtle grassy drainage that was more and more filled with scree the higher I climbed.  Alders were helpful in pulling myself upwards at times, the scree did not provide good footing because it was either loose and slipped out or so hard that it was more like climbing a rock slab. 

As I continued to gain elevation, I entered the rocky confines of Chockstone Gully, named for the large boulder wedged between the two walls. The center of the gully was filled with a 2′ tall spine of isothermal snow lingering from the long winter, featuring a layer of ice at the bottom.  I was not wearing crampons and the ice prevented me from using the snow for footing, so I had to walk carefully up hard scree next to the snow.

I reached the Chockstone, under which had very little room to crawl…so I scrambled over the top. I noted that would be annoying on the way down.  It appeared to me as though the Chockstone had “rolled downhill”, for lack of a more accurate description, sometime in the last 12 years since William Finchley’s blog post documented its position in 2014 and 2020. It had both rotated and dropped and scree has probably filled in above it.

Above the Chockstone there were a few rock steps which I was able to surmount with my privledged 6′ of height. I hiked past the two rappel anchors and inspected them.  I left that shitty gully behind and entered the morning sunlight, taking a break on a grassy knoll featuring a kindly little boulder around 2,700′.

I was unsure how to proceed from here. The drop-off straight ahead to Serenity Falls Gulch was a lot bigger than I expected.  I had 2 GPS tracks for this route, neither of which seemed right.  The first would have dropped me down a very steep gully, so I ruled it out. The second (Nate Bannish’s line) went uphill and seemed to traverse a steep rock face and descend off a cliff. GPS data can have varying levels of inaccuracy. Although I didn’t take his route, the curiosity led me to the safest way down: around the top of the hill on the east aspect at 3,000′ there’s a small pass where two gullies meet. The northern gully dropped down some cliffs to become the initial scree slope I started on. The southern gully was full of small-diameter scree and dropped safely to bottom of Serenity Falls Gulch.  The small-diameter scree let me descend easily (which conversely meant the return ascent would be brutally inefficient) and I crossed the Gulch, ascending the middle coulier to exit. 

 

From the top of the middle gully, I followed a moraine bench for about a mile and a half across a series of turns and hills traversing around the mountain, maintaining roughly 4,000′ elevation.  Finally, I reached the SE coulier that provides the easiest access to the summit.  There’s not much to say aside from OMG F*CK SCREE.  Every step I took lost me a quarter step as my weight pushed the scree down the mountain. I had 3,000′ of this gully to climb, I’d estimate the angle was roughly 45 degrees sustained almost the entire time. Which is steep enough to be challenging, while allowing me to stop at any time to rest and not be in fear of falling backwards. I took a lot of very short breaks, but tried not to look at my elevation too often because my ascent was very slow.

I encountered snow around 5,500′ and climbed that instead of the scree, it was much easier travel especially above 5,700′.  The snow had melted significantly and was easy climbing where it was thin, however in areas where it was deeper (more than 2′) I tended to posthole.  My early start for the day wasn’t just to ensure I arrive home at a reasonable hour (spoiler: that didn’t happen), but to avoid climbing snow during the heat of the day.  The summer hiking boots I wore do not have toe or heel bails, so I had to buy strap-on crampons for this trip.  The kid at AMH showed me the wrong way to fasten the straps, so I struggled for a while with my crampons falling off until, through the power of cold anger, I determined the optimal way to attach them, after which they never fell off again despite being thoroughly abused by scree climbing.  After this trip, it’s safe to say these crampons have seen more miles on scree than on snow!

It was around 2:15PM when I felt the wind at my back, blowing upwards. Seconds later I topped out of the gully around 7,000′, taking in the massive (but easily avoidable) 2,000′ drop on the other side of the ridge. 

I turned east and climbed easy rock, spying the snow-covered summit.  Annoyingly, I had to climb about 15 vertical feet of 55 degree snow, followed by 5 vertical feet of 45 degree snow, but thankfully it was the best quality snow so far: hard enough to accept an ice axe for protection, but soft enough I could kick steps with my soft boots.  The fall potential wasn’t too bad either, a few dozen feet instead of thousands.  This ended up being an enjoyable cap to the ascent, though I was ready to turn around if reaching the true summit were too dangerous. I topped out on top under beautiful weather! I kept an eye on the large cloud to the north, but it never moved south, so I was able to enjoy the view of the Eklutna drainage unobstructed by clouds.

I hung out on top for just under an hour, taking lots of photos and trying to identify distant peaks. I made an entry in the logbook, officially announcing my wife Claire’s pregnancy in the log. She was still in the first trimester at this point but I wanted to tell the world!

This peak has one of the most scenic views of the area, most of the significant peaks of the area are visible and from a rare, broadside perspective. Bellicose is the only other peak that offers a similar perspective on the “B Peaks” of Eklutna and I never plan to climb it. I appreciated seeing western profiles of Bold and Bashful, as usually those peaks are only seen in full from the north.  Bold looks like it will be ready for an ascent in a few weeks time!

As for further peaks, in the distance I could easily make out Carpathian that sits at the head of Portage Glacier. I looked for Hut Peak and Roost Peak, both of which I’m familiar from my trip to Eagle Glacier in March.  There’s a suprising number of mountains between Benign and Rosie’s Roost, though I’m sure I saw a few of the same peaks from both locations I could not identify them.  Rook and South Rook are hidden from Benign behind Bellicose.

I signed Benign’s peak register (first ascent of the season, unless someone climbed but didn’t sign) and departed around 3:15PM.  I made relatively quick progress down the mountain, keeping my crampons on until I reached 5,000′. I didn’t have to downclimb at all after the summit snow, I could relatively easily plunge step my way down the snow/scree.  The top layer of snow was prone to sliding by this time (thank you past-Wayne for the early start!), so after triggering a slide I’d routinely follow the path as it offered easier travel. There was some fun scree on top of snow that made scree skiing a reality.

Once I reached the moraine bench at 4,000′ around 5:30PM, I thought I’d be back to my bike by 7PM. I was two hours off…the traverse around the mountain took forever. I found some desperate bear poop (mostly seeds) along the way, as well as some normal scat further down. I was surprised a bear would wander up this high, perhaps it denned up here during the winter.  Once around the mountain at the ege of Serenity Falls Gulch, I descended the middle gully and ascended the access gully on the far side.  The small diameter scree in the access gully was great to descend in the morning, but made progress back upwards challenging as my footing kept sliding down with the scree. I mostly stemmed off the rock walls to propel and pull myself upwards.

I eventually reached the top at 3,000′ and descended the various grassy rock faces to the kindly little boulder on a grassy knoll around 7:30PM, where I put on my crampons and descended towards the Chockstone.  I considered putting myself on rappel, but figured it would be more of a hassle and I felt very confident in my footing with my crampons on.  The awkwardness of the descent was mostly resulted due to the snow; I couldn’t simply walk down the center of the gully towards the Chockstone.  Instead I slithered my way down the gully, pressing myself against the snow and rock for stability and boot-scooted my way over the Chockstone.  After leaving the rocky walls behind, I decided keeping my crampons on was the best strategy for the hard scree to come and the descent progressed relatively quickly as my spikes tore into the ground and turned hard scree into soft scree.

 

I took my crampons off on some rocks just before I reached the trees, hiked through the woods and arrived at my bike around 9PM, which made my total climbing time just over 15 hours.  Filled with the sense of fulfillment only a long day in the mountains creates, I changed back into my biking shorts and took a short break before beginning the 12.5 mile bike back around the lake.  I played leapfrog with a couple who was also returning via bike, I kept stopping to take photos of the mountains in the sunset and they’d pass me, then they’d stop to look at something and I’d pass them.  There was a porcupine they were observing at the Bold turnoff that I pretended to see in order to justify leaving the conversation quickly.  I hadn’t spoken with anyone since Claire had gone to bed the previous night and, at my level of exhaustion, I wasn’t particularly interested in talking or hanging out.

I briefly stopped at the parking lot bridge to soak my feet in the cold river water that drains off the Twin Peaks and arrived at my truck just after midnight, quickly loading up and driving home with the help of an entire thermos of coffee.   All in all the trip was 20 hours car-to-car (4AM-12AM).  I got home at 1AM, making the total trip 22.5 hours door-to-door.  My wife Claire wasn’t very happy that I went no-contact after I reached my bike, but in my defense: I thought she would be asleep!  I promised her that, next time, I’ll send her reassuring messages when I reach my truck even if it’s well-past her bedtime!

Timing (hours:minutes)
Bike in: 1:30
Ascent: 8:45
Summit: 0:55
Descent: 6:00
Pre-Bike break: 0:15
Bike out: 2:30 (I was really slow and stopped to take photos)

Snow Coverage with approximate route: