Adventure
Turn Left Off The Summit
A Second Descent of the South Face of Denali
Editor’s Note
Michael Gardner passed away on October 7, 2024 while attempting to ascend the unclimbed north face of Jannu East in Nepal. He was climbing with longtime partner and close friend, Sam Hennessy, who survived.
Mike and I started working on this story in the summer of 2024, as a multi-part feature about some of his big adventures. He and Hennessy pushed the boundaries of skiing and alpine climbing, most recently with a historic ski descent of the south face of Denali in the spring of 2024, which he writes about here. He was a second generation Exum Guide and longtime Arc’teryx athlete with a reputation for moving fast and light in the mountains, but more importantly for his contagious enthusiasm for life.
When we first discussed this piece, he started by telling me: “I definitely don’t want it to sound like I’m boasting.” We discussed the “why” of pushing limits in the mountains, and he talked about wanting to be a part of something, rather than conquering it. He talked about listening to the environment, and choosing objectives based on what the mountains had to say. He said he wanted his story to be relatable—even if skiing the south face of Denali is not particularly relatable.
While Mike’s accomplishments could easily fill the pages of this magazine—first ascents and descents in Alaska, the Tetons, and Himalaya, among others—it was his approach to the mountains and the people around him that stood out the most. Kind, thoughtful and quick to laugh, Mike was the kind of person who made everyone around him feel like a friend. In his words: “Who you go to the mountains with isn’t simply a means to an end, it’s kind of the whole point.”
Mike’s story wasn’t 100 percent finished, but we felt these words were too important not to share. His close circle agreed.
It was an honor to get to know Mike and work with him. He will be missed by many.
—Lily Krass Ritter
The screeching sound of Eric sketching out on snow as it transitioned to ice drifted up through the murk.
“Easy E, you good dawg?” I yelled into the cloud.
The thunk of his tools swinging into the ice echoed up through the mist.
“Yeah, but this is not the way,” he called back.
I felt a slight prickle to the back of my neck. Where the hell were we? Sam had already traversed hard right the other direction. All of a sudden, I felt immensely alone.