The North Face crew skis Denali

We landed on Alaska's Kahiltna Glacier at an altitude of about 7,000 feet on June 5. Current beta said that 11 people had fallen into crevasses on June 4, but that piece of bad news was somewhat offset by the fact that it had been snowing for several days up high, hopefully helping with the blue ice situation.

From where the planes dropped us on the glacier to the summit of Denali was 13,000 feet of elevation gain and about 16 miles of travel. We had roughly 1,200 pounds of gear amongst 11 people, each with a pack and a plastic kiddie sled to hump it all with.

Ingrid BackstromLucas Debari (left) and Sage Cattabriga-Alosa jokingly drape themselves in gear.

The first few days we traveled at night to mitigate the crevasse danger -- we hoped the colder temps would freeze the snow bridges -- and since it never got dark, the lengthy midnight sunset to blue-ish dusk to sunrise made for surreal skinning. I almost forgot about the massive hog of a sled I was pulling, until we reached the first real hill. Then, my hip flexors begin to feel like they might explode out of my legs. Luckily they never did and we reached the first main camp at 11,000 feet in three days, tired but optimistic. (Well, I was tired. Some people still had energy to go for an evening pow shred above camp -- and I don't think Conrad Anker ever gets tired.)

From 11,000 feet, we carried a huge backpack load to 14,000 feet the next day and cached it there. Skiing back to 11 camp felt so good it was almost guilty, especially when we would whiz by a rope team of climbers ascending on foot.

The following day we carried again and established our main camp at 14, where we were relieved to hear that ski conditions were shaping up nicely. After a couple of days there, hiking and skiing pow -- er, acclimatizing -- in the lower half of the Orient Express, we knew the weather and snow were looking good for a summit bid and we moved up to 17,000 foot camp via the West Buttress under light snowfall.

We pitched tents, melted water, and made ramen with chicken from a pouch (seriously delish) before passing around a chocolate bar and trying to sleep. We were chilly and restless but woke up feeling surprisingly OK, and after I had my Starbucks VIA packet with powdered milk, I daresay I felt good. Conrad arrived from 14 camp (he stayed there so as to make a single day, light and fast summit bid like the real mountaineer that he is), and started up, setting a bootpack in a few inches of fresh.

Making it to the summit was agonizingly hard. We encountered negative 50 degree temps for part of the climb, and it is just a long way to get to 20,320 feet. Finally, we made it to the highest point in North America, which was one of the proudest feelings I have had. Clicking in and skiing off the summit, however, was totally thrilling, the ultimate reward for 12 days of pure effort.

The payoff continued as we broke down successive camps and continued down the mountain, following Sage's skier's instinct as he led us down the Rescue Gully back to 14 camp, showing that he had some mentoring to do, too. From 14, we skied to the airstrip in an all-night push, with massive packs and pulling sleds from 11,000 feet down. Somehow I barely noticed the weight when we were skiing back down.

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