Greenland Traverse SE-NW Isortoq to Qaanaaq

Greenland Traverse SE to NW Isortoq to Qaanaaq. June 27-Aug 5, 2024

1539 miles

(1420 snow kiting, 119 manhauling)

4 first ascents 

Biggest day: 218 miles kiting

Fastest speed: 33mph kiting

Eric Gilbertson and Branden Joy

June 10-26 fly/boat to Tasiilaq in SE greenland, get delayed 16 days waiting for sea ice to clear (it was open the day before we arrived but drifted back in)

June 27 – July 2

Take scheduled air greenland helicopter to isortoq village, boat to coast. Manhaul 4 sleds each (400 lbs) 35 miles up icecap to kiteable terrain around 4000ft. Ride out three day rain event in tent. 

July 3-12

Snow kite west, roughly following Nansen route. Towed 2×2 grid of sleds. 

July 13-17

Snow kite up west coast following good katabatic winds to umiammakku nunaat region of unclimbed peaks. Best kiting day 200 miles.

July 18-26

Make four first ascents of peaks in umiammakku nunaat. Manhaul in and out. Ride out two day blizzard back on kiting route. 

July 27-Aug 1

Snow kite up west coast to edge of icecap near qaanaaq. Biggest day 218 miles kiting. 

Aug 2 – 5

Triple carry gear from icecap to coast over three days. My max pack weight was 112lbs. (Should have split it up into smaller loads). Boat to qaanaaq. 

Aug 6-21

Delayed in qaanaaq flying out 

Introduction 

I have some long-term mountaineering objectives that require big approaches on flat icecaps, and one approach method that sounds fun is kite skiing. This involves using the wind to get towed along the snow using a kite and skis. 

Polar explorers have been using kite assistance for many years. The Scott expedition to antarctica in the early 1900s mounted primitive kites on sledges to assist with down wind travel. In the 1990s Borge Ousland used a small homemade kite to help pull him along on skis occasionally when he made the first solo traverse of Antarctica. 

More recently, kite technology has improved significantly, allowing a distance of 100 miles or more to be covered in a day under ideal conditions. Kites today are not just simple squares of fabric. They are complex foil designs with ribs and internal chambers that help them easily catch the wind and provide significant towing force with easy maneuverability. 

If I could cover 100+ miles in a day then the long approaches to my mountaineering objectives would actually be feasible and I could avoid expensive ski plane charters. I would first need to learn to kite and gain experience on a lower-stakes expedition before going for the big prizes. 

I’d never kited before but Branden had a lot of kiting experience from his west-east kiting traverse of Northern Scandinavia. We agreed to do a training expedition first to prepare for future mountaineering trips. 

The main locations where kiting expeditions make sense are Antarctica and Greenland. Greenland is much cheaper to get to, so we decided to do a kiting traverse across Greenland. Ideally we’d climb some peaks along the way and have the trip at least a month long for the best training. 

There are two main traverse routes that people take in Greenland. The most common is the Nansen route, which traverses east-west or west-east across southern Greenland between isortoq and kangerlusuuaq. This is about 300 miles long and is generally done man hauling, not kiting, because the wind is not very reliable (though it has been kited).

The route generally takes 2-3 weeks and around a dozen or more groups do it every year, mostly guided and sometimes supported by dogsled. It gets done between March and August. 

In the spring groups can get driven to the edge of the icecap near kangerlussuaq and ski directly, but later in summer groups often helicopter on or off the icecap once snow has significantly melted. Near isortoq the icecap extends nearly to the ocean so in the spring groups can dogsled to the icecap and in the summer go by boat. Some groups helicopter to the icecap to start or end, flying from tasiilaq on the east or kangerlussuaq in the west. 

The second most popular route is a south-north traverse up the west coast from kangerlussuaq to qaanaaq. This is an area of very reliable katabatic winds and is usually kited. 

The route is around 1000 miles and is typically done april-may by one group every year or so, generally guided. In the spring groups can be driven to the icecap to start and they can exit via dogsled near qaanaaq in May at the end. The south to north itinerary makes the most sense with the prevailing wind direction. 

A few groups have done an extended traverse up the west coast starting near narsaq in southern Greenland and ending at qaanaaq. 

Other crossings I’ve heard of are a traverse from qaanaaq to isortoq by kite across north Greenland the down the east coast, two circumnavigations starting and ending near narsaq by kite, and an east west manhauling traverse from approximately ittoqqortoormiit to ilulissat (by Mike Horn). There are probably others I’m missing. 

My schedule was limited by the academic calendar so I could start mid june at the earliest. Our requirements for the trip were that we’d be out at least a month mostly kiting, we’d tag some peaks, and we’d experience both reliable and unreliable wind conditions. This would give us the best preparation for future mountaineering objectives. 

We also wanted to keep the trip as cheap as possible, so we wanted to avoid chartering helicopters on or off the ice sheet. Finally, we wanted to minimize risk. So we would ideally do a route where rescue was possible and not overly expensive if required. 

We consulted with some polar experts about our options, and decided on a traverse from isortoq to qaanaaq. We would basically cross west from isortoq along the nansen route then kite north up the west coast once we hit good katabatic winds. We would stop partway up the west coast to climb some peaks in the umiammakku nunaat region.

 This trip would definitely be long enough for our requirements, and would hit both unreliable wind (along the nansen route) and reliable wind (along the west coast). It would reduce risk by following well-trodden routes and never be too far from populated areas. (By contrast, the northeast coast of Greenland is largely unpopulated and a route in that area would pose much more challenging and expensive rescue conditions.)

This route also allowed us to avoid chartering helicopters for the icecap. We planned to boat to the icecap at isortoq, then hike down from the icecap to the coast near qaanaaq. The icecap ends about 5 miles from the coast near qaanaaq so it would be possible to carry gear down over multiple trips and then get a boat ride to qaanaaq. This was appealing to start and end at sea level on the coast to get a full coast to coast traverse. 

Interestingly, Greenland experts we consulted had not heard of any previous isortoq-qaanaaq traverses, or any previous kiting trips that climbed peaks on the west coast. So ours might be the first.

With the route chosen we next needed a permit. The permit process for Greenland expeditions is very complicated. Guiding companies take care of this for clients, but we wanted to do an independent unguided trip. 

The main hurdle is obtaining the three different types of insurance. 

1. Medical Evacuation. This covers you in case you are sick or injured and need evacuated. We purchased this through global rescue. They cover kiting in Greenland up to 80 degrees north latitude. Our farthest north point would be around 78 degrees latitude, so the coverage would work. 
2. Search and Rescue (SAR). This covers the case if we went missing and didn’t communicate at all with the outside world. Then a search team would be sent. This can be purchased through the Greenland government, but is very expensive. 
3. Bank Guarantee. This is the most difficult insurance. This covers the case where you request an evacuation for a non-medical issue. Examples could be running out of food or fuel. Medical and SAR do not cover this. Greenland requires 30,000USD per expedition deposited in a bank account controlled by the Greenland government. This way Greenland will pay for the evacuation and immediately recoup the money without worrying about the expedition members being unable to pay. 

The bank guarantee is a very unique setup and only a few banks in the US are supposedly willing to do it. But in practice those banks were unwilling to help us. 

Guiding companies have generally worked out agreements with Norwegian banks and the Greenland government for the guarantee, but we were not able to do that. 

We had a breakthrough, though, when Branden contacted Bergens Adventures. They guide the Nansen route and were also able to provide logistical support for independent teams. We’d heard that famous polar explorer Eric Larsen used Bergens for bank guarantees for his Greenland trips, so we figured we’d try also. 

We were able to pay Bergens a fee and they would take care of the logistics of the bank guarantee and SAR insurance. 

So we each took out personal loans and wired Bergens the 30,000USD. We were OK taking this risk because it was extremely unlikely we would request a non medical evacuation and we could easily pay the loan off once we returned with only a few months interest accrued. Bergens also already had an agreement with Greenland about SAR insurance and we would be covered by that. 

The insurance was the crux of the expedition permit. The permit also required having a satellite phone, personal locator beacon (inreach doesn’t count), marine radios, and guns if entering the national park in the northeast. 

We got an Iridium GO! to count for the satellite phone. This is a satellite wifi device that can pair with your phone and you can make calls with an app. Other apps also pair with it, and we planned to use the predictwind app to help us with weather forecasting. Note: internet speeds are very slow, on the order of kb/s, so normal internet browsing does not work. Only a few specific apps work with the GO!

We also paid professional meteorologist Chris Tomer to send daily weather forecasts to our inreach. Chris often forecasts for me on expeditions and his forecasts are spot on. 

I purchased a PLB and marine radios from west marine in Seattle. 

The gun requirement didn’t technically apply to us since we weren’t entering the national park, but it sounded like a prudent choice to still bring guns for polar bear safety. Polar bears generally stay near the coast but they’ve been spotted as far inland as Summit Station (near the middle of the icecap). So we wanted to be prepared. Unlike dealing with black bears or grizzly bears, the only real defense or deterrent for polar bears is a gun. 

Branden brought a 30.06 rifle (which would be required if entering the national park) and I planned to bring a shotgun. The rifle would be better for aiming to hit a bear and the shotgun would be better for firing a warning shot. 

I didn’t have any experience with guns and it turns out it’s a bit complicated to buy one. The closest store that sold a shotgun was sportsman’s warehouse in Puyallup an hour away. I paid for the gun online then had to schedule an appointment which I thought was to pick it up. In advance I had to watch a safety video and get a form certifying that I watched it. 

At the store I filled out a bunch of paperwork and they let me see the gun, but said I couldn’t take it then. I had to wait 10 days and the clock started when I finished the paperwork in person. Then I could return and pick it up for real. This was kind of frustrating since the place was so far away. I suppose there’s a good reason behind it. 

I eventually managed to acquire the shotgun and some slugs that would be appropriate for polar bears. I think the guys in the store were impressed when I said I needed to take down a polar bear. 

The next hurdle after meeting all requirements for the expedition permit was I needed to learn how to kite. Branden was the kiting expert and recommended I buy three kites: a 6 sqm, 10sqm, and 15sqm from Ozone. The range of kite sizes is meant to cover a range of wind speeds. We would use the small kite if the wind speed was high and the large kite if the wind speed was low. I got the explore model for the smaller kites and the Exp for the larger.

The Explore is much more responsive and maneuverable while the Exp is more stable. This was the combination recommended to us by other Greenland kiters. 

One of the best snow kite instructors in the US is Wayne Phillips in Utah. Branden learned from him and famous polar explorer Eric Boomer also learned from him. 

I messaged Wayne and we agreed on a weekend in January for lessons. I flew down with my new gear and he gave me excellent lessons all day Saturday at skyline. That’s a big open area around 10,000ft with great kiting terrain. The wind was pretty low but by the end of day one I could kite around perpendicular to the wind a bit with the 6m kite.  

The next day would hopefully be more lessons, but the wind never picked up enough. But the one day was still very valuable. 

I wanted to get more kiting in over the winter in Washington, but I was kind of prioritizing winter bulgers then (I’m working on a project to climb all Bulger peaks, the hundred highest peaks in Washington, in winter). By March, with winter over, I transitioned to practicing kiting. 

Unfortunately Washington is not a great location for kite skiing. The ideal terrain is big flat open snowy areas. Frozen lakes would be great, but Washington doesn’t really get cold enough for most lakes to freeze. Eastern Washington has flat plains, but by March the snow had melted away. 

 I did find a few spots to practice though. Keechelus lake near snoqualmie pass has a low water level in march/April and the sides are often flat and snowy. There are some stumps but they can be avoided. I was able to make two trips to “Keech” to get practice in.

The other good locations are icecaps. In Washington icecaps are usually in wilderness areas and it’s unclear to me if kiting is allowed. Paragliding and sailboats are prohibited in wilderness as is launching or landing any aircraft. But kite-assisted skiing staying on the ground appears to fall through the cracks and not be prohibited. I believe it is technically allowed but I’ve been nervous to chance it. 

In British Columbia, though, there are no such restrictions. So I made a few trips to the pemberton icecap to practice. This requires snowmobiling about 20 miles on a forest road to reach a set of very large, flat glaciers at least 20 miles long and several miles wide. 

I made one day trip in March solo and Branden and I did one overnight kiting trip in April. This gave me practice towing a sled while kiting. 

The final destination I found is the ridgetops near whistler, BC. I found two other kite skiers from the area and we took the gondola up from the resort then kite skied along the ridges over Oboe and Flute peaks. The ridges tend to have pretty reliable wind. 

I got in about seven kiting days before the snow melted too much. 

One other skill to learn was how to operate the shotgun. One morning Branden and I drove out some back roads near Sultan to an area known to gun enthusiasts as a good target shooting location. Branden taught me how to operate the gun and we fired a few holes in a stump. 

We had to make other important gear decisions. For sleds we decided to each buy six Paris pulk expedition sleds. These are about $80 each on Amazon. We would tow a 2×2 grid of sleds while kiting and we would double up each of the front sleds. This way if any cracked we would have backups. 

The 2×2 grid would allow the sled setup to not flip over if making a sharp turn. I’ve towed sleds a lot in the past on trips to Denali, Ellesmere Island, and other places, and I know it’s very important for the sled to be stable. 

Note: some people kite with one large sled custom designed for polar expeditions. However, this is difficult to travel with in a plane or helicopter and is very expensive. Paris pulks are cheap, durable, small, and stackable for ease of transport. 

We decided to bring one extra pair of skis in case either of us broke a ski. I’ve broken a ski in half on icy terrain in Washington and had to scoot out 20 miles to the trailhead. I did not want that to happen in Greenland. 

We planned to use overboots and lenz battery-heated socks because other kiters had warned us our feet would get very cold. 

We would bring three stoves, each capable of burning gasoline if needed (MSR XGK). 

We brought two tents, a hillberg cylinder tent designed for high wind and a backup BD Eldorado. We would each have a tent, stove, and fuel in our gear in case we got separated. 

For food we brought 55 days worth each. This gave plenty of buffer, even though we expected the trip to take about 40 days. We budgeted 4500 calories per day. This was sort of a guess since I wasn’t sure how much energy I would burn each day kiting. It would be cold but probably not high energy expenditure. (I ended up eating 3500-4000 calories on kiting days). 

We knew temperatures can be very cold on the icecap, even mid summer, so we took -40f sleeping bags. 

Finally, we took standard glacier travel gear for the side peaks and for the start and end. We would likely need to manhaul the gear through crevasse territory until we got to around 4000ft-6000ft elevation. The polar experts told us that is where the terrain is generally safe from crevasses and we could start kiting. 

By early May we had finished all our training and gear purchasing and were hoping to hear back if our expedition permit had been accepted. The expedition office websites says a decision will be given 12 weeks after submission. 

This winter the site was hacked and it did not work to accept online submissions. So we emailed all the required documents to the office in early March. We received a reply to expect a decision by May 20. 

However, by May 20 we learned there were delays. Bergens was working with the office to sort things out, and it turned out to be very complicated. The Greenland government had decided to change its rules related to bank guarantees and SAR insurance while they were reviewing our application. So it appeared we would be the first people to try to get through under the new rules.

Bergens already had a guided group on the Nansen route that got approved under the old rules, but there was apparently a lot of confusion about our application. Many meetings were held with more delays. New legal documents would need to be drafted for our bank guarantee to meet the new requirements and more lawyer fees would come with that. 

To make matters worse, the guided bergens group on the nansen route got caught in a piteraq (very high wind event for multiple days). They needed a helicopter evac, costing bergens a lot of extra money. There was talk about dropping out from helping us, but we paid a bit extra to help out with the new legal fees and we were hopeful things would work out. 

Getting to the icecap

June 9-27

On June 9, after I’d finished grading my last final exams, we packed our final bags and headed to Seatac Airport. The permit still hadn’t been approved, but we were told it would happen by the time we landed in Greenland. 

Our checkin was very complicated. We had 14 bags between the two of us, including two firearms, ammunition, a ski bag, and an overweight oversize bag with our 12 pulks stacked together. We got there early to sort things out. 

One of the Iceland air agents was super helpful through the whole process. Somehow the scale wasn’t working so she had to estimate the bag weights (that was great news for us). Also, we were supposed to pay around $200 per extra bag, but somehow that didn’t ever come up. We didn’t ask any questions and were relieved to make it through. 

We connected in Reykjavik, and luckily iceland customs did not inspect our bags. I’d brought a lot of meat and cheese and preferred that it didn’t get confiscated. Iceland customs prohibits it from entering Iceland, but it appears they allow it to pass through en route to Greenland. 

We then made it to kulusuk on schedule. This is not guaranteed. I’ve heard planes often boomerang back to Iceland if the gravel landing strip is covered in fog, which is common. 

Everything was going surprisingly smoothly, but that would not last long. From kulusuk we planned to take a scheduled air greenland helicopter flight to Tasiilaq, the main town in the region. There we would spend the night at the red house hotel before getting on the next scheduled air greenland helicopter the following morning to isortoq. From there we would boat to the coast to start. 

Air greenland had already blocked seats for our baggage on each flight so all our gear should fit. 

However, at kulusuk they said the guns and skis wouldn’t fit on the helicopter. Luckily for us, though, the piteraq that had affected the bergens group the previous week had blown the sea ice out to sea. The air greenland agent said her brother could take us there by boat. 

Since the luggage was already loaded in the helicopter and we’d already paid for the ticket, I took the helicopter flight and Branden took the boat. He said it was around an hour and at one point he had to take over the wheel while the owner tried to shoot a seal.

We stayed at the red house lodge that night, then the next morning bought a few gallons of heptane from the lodge. Heptane is kind of like white gas and is much cleaner than gasoline for our stoves. We’d been told that for the past ten years expeditions have always flown with fuel and guns on helicopters and never had problems. 

Later that morning we got our gear to the heliport and loaded up. The weekly flight to isortoq only had one other passenger so all our gear would fit. We were supposed to pay an extra 1500usd for our excess luggage, but the agent was nice and counted it as cargo, so it was only $500. 

 Just as we were about to board, though, the pilot noticed we had heptane in one of the bags and said that couldn’t fly. The rules had changed a few months earlier. 

He said we could take it by boat, though, and the sea ice was currently clear. We made the fateful decision then to abort the heli flight and instead go by boat. Apparently we heard air greenland just got a new helicopter this year in tasiilaq and just this year decided heptane can’t be taken on board. So we got kind of unlucky. 

We called around and the best deal we found was Michael, a local hunter, would do the transfer for 1000usd. It had to be asap, though, since he said the sea ice was moving back in. 

Unfortunately for us it was raining hard all day but we decided to go for it. Our 14 bags had been sitting outside the heliport in the rain for hours while we figured things out. Roberto, the owner of the red house, drove us and our gear to the dock and we loaded up in Michael’s small open boat. His cousin Curtis joined to help. 

We cruised out of the fjord and soon started encountering sea ice. It had blown in a lot just overnight. Micheal navigated expertly, at times sneaking through tiny gaps and bouncing off ice chunks. 

We then hit open water, but halfway there we encountered more ice. At least three times I thought we’d have to abort, but he always found a way. Finally, about 80% of the way there, we finally hit a dead end. He pointed out the sky was very white ahead, indicating dense ice, whereas behind us the sky was dark, indicating mostly water. 

I was getting pretty cold in the pouring rain boating at 30mph. We turned around and returned to the red house. Roberto was very welcoming and served us a big dinner that night. 

At that point we had three options to get to the icecap.

1. We could try to boat again. Locals said usually after a storm moves out the sea ice drifts back out. So likely in the next few days it would be passable. 
2. We could take the next scheduled air greenland heli to isortoq in a week. We learned that locals had some heptane in isortoq that we could buy, and we could also buy gasoline there. But the flight needed to be basically empty for all our gear to fit. We estimated at most there could be two other passengers out of a nominal 10 seats. 
3. We could try to charter a helicopter. The air greenland charter estimate was 7k usd. But there was one other helicopter in town owned by a guy named Tim. We heard that was about half the price (but still expensive).

To complicate matters, we still didn’t have our permit. That did finally officially get issued and emailed to us the next morning, though. So we were finally good to go. 

We decided to prioritize the boat since it was the cheapest and allowed our fuel. And it sounded like the ice would likely clear.

Over the next week I made daily hikes up to seamonds mountain, a peak 4 miles from town with a view of the coast all the way to isortoq. The sea ice never cleared, though. 

The morning of the weekly air Greenland flight we checked online and it was nearly full. There was no way our gear would fit. 

We tried to contact Tim from the private helicopter, but he said he was busy that week and that we should take a boat. 

We decide to keep waiting for a boat, but we also booked refundable tickets on the next air greenland flight a week out. We told air greenland about all our gear and they blocked a few seats. But we knew we’d still need to be lucky and have very few other passengers.

Over the next week the sea ice still didn’t clear. I spent a lot of time hiking the nearby peaks. There was a good food truck in town serving muskox hot dogs and pizza that we took advantage of. 

Finally the two week mark hit and it was time for the air greenland flight. Luckily only one other passenger was signed up, so all our gear fit. We loaded up, took off, flew 5 minutes up the coast, but then turned around. The pilot said there were too many clouds. I was beginning to worry we’d have to abort the whole trip. 

For the next two days we stayed at the Angmagssalik hotel, paid for by air greenland. Locals there said it was the worst sea ice conditions in the past 15 years. Usually it would be passable to isortoq by mid June. 

Finally the flight was rescheduled for June 27. Tickets had gone back on sale online and fortunately for us nobody else bought seats. On June 27 we loaded up all our gear, and got on with the one other passenger. I was certain something else would delay us, but we made the entire 30 minute flight all the way to isortoq!

It felt like the crux of the expedition was now complete, while in reality the expedition was just beginning. 

We’d made arrangements for a boat ride and fuel in advance to save time. A local with a tractor hauled most of our bags from the helipad to the dock and we carried the rest. We met Peter, and he gave us the fuel. Then he and his wife helped us load gear into his boat. 

Isortoq is on an island and luckily the sea ice was clear the 5 miles from the village to the coast near the icecap. The fjords near isortoq are pretty well protected from sea ice blowing in.

Peter turned up born to be wild on the radio and we cruised around icebergs to the coast. He dropped us off at a gentle slope just 100ft below the edge of the icecap, then sailed back to Isortoq. 

Finally the overland component of the expedition had begun, after a full 16 day delay from the start. 

Manhauling to kiteable terrain

June 27-July 2

35 miles 

Greenland experts had told us that kiteable terrain safe from crevasses starts between 4000ft-6000ft. We planned to manhual roped up to there, which could take several days. 

We each had approximately 400lbs of gear and we would split this among four sleds each. We would tow them single file while manhauling to decrease the profile sinking into the snow, then we would convert to a 2×2 grid once kiting. 

We took a few hours to ferry the loads from the coast up to the edge of the snow and then rig all our sleds. We’d each brought 4 duffles from skipulk.com that were made to perfectly fit in Paris pulks.

By 9pm we were loaded and roped up, so we started up the icecap. We started in skis in soft snow but it soon turned to ice and we switched to crampons. 

We noticed a structure in the distance and made that our goal. After a few hours of low angle icy glacier we reached an automated weather station and pitched camp nearby. 

Officially we were just south of the arctic circle so the sun did set, but in practice it never got dark enough to need a headlamp.

Over the next five days we made slow progress up the icecap. It was tough work each dragging 4 sleds uphill. The ice soon got replaced by snow and sometimes slush swamps. Flat areas between slopes would often contain wide slush pools that were tricky to navigate. Usually our feet got soaked. 

On the other side of a slush swamp we’d generally be met with a gentle snow slope. But then on the top in the rollover area we would have to navigate a maze of crevasses. 

 

At one point we got tent bound for three days in nearly continuous rain that accumulated 2 inches in our sleds. I made good progress on my mystery novels on my e reader those days. 

Finally around 3500ft we reached continuous non slushy snow and were able to switch to skis. Our speed increased dramatically and we were able to go over 10 miles in a day for the first time.

By July 2 we crossed the 4000ft threshold and indeed the terrain was flat, snowy, and devoid of crevasses. Now we just needed some favorable wind and we could finally start kiting. 

Kiting west along the Nansen route 

July 3-12

213 miles

On the morning of July 3 we woke up to a light breeze and decided to give the kites a try. We weren’t sure how long it would last so we left the sleds in single file just in case we decided to switch to manhauling.

We started with the 15m kites and immediately started making progress 10x faster then walking. It was amazing to finally start the kiting leg of the trip! I was excited to start putting on big miles. 

We had to go slightly upwind, though, and that required a lot of tacking, meaning zig zagging back and forth like a sailboat. The wind dropped slightly then and we were going really slow. We had a secret weapon, though – line extensions. 

Our regular lines were 25m long but we had an extra set of 25m lines to double the length. Generally the wind gets stronger higher from the ground, so the line extensions would allow us to access the stronger wind.

It took a while to get the new setup rigged up, but then we were finally cruising at a faster speed. We could increase the speed by making the kite move in loops, creating apparent wind. This got us up to around 15mph.

We made good progress, but at one point Branden radioed back that something was wrong with my sleds. Indeed, the back two had ripped off! I’d been checking back on the sleds every 5 minutes and they must have just torn off.

I think the long single file line of sleds is bad for towing at high speeds. It can hit a resonance and start oscillating back and forth and cause lines to get torn. 

I dropped my kite while Branden went back to retrieve the missing sleds. We both then stopped and converted our setups to the more stable 2×2 grid. 

By the time we finished the sun had gotten lower and a breakable crust formed on the snow. So we decided to call it a day and camp there. That’s one great aspect of the icecap – you can camp pretty much anywhere. It’s always flat and there’s always snow to melt for water.

The next morning we continued making good progress with the 15m kite and long lines. Mid day, though, we passed some interesting tracks in the snow. It turned out to be snowshoe tracks. And there were mounds of snow nearby like it was a camp. They looked pretty fresh. We were perhaps 15 miles in from the coast, and I wondered if it was maybe a guided camping trip? It seemed unlikely hunters would venture that far inland when animals usually stay near the coast. 

We continued on and within 3 miles we saw fresh polar bear tracks! They were headed towards the interior. I’m not sure what a polar bear would be doing that far inland and heading even farther from the coast. Maybe the snowshoe tracks were actually from hunters tracking the bear. 

Soon after that the wind died and we set up camp. It seemed like an appropriate time for Branden to sight his rifle and for me to take another practice shot with my shotgun. It was July 4 so that seemed like an appropriate way to celebrate american independence day anyways. 

Over the next week we got more good kiting in, but also plenty of time waiting around for wind. Sometimes there would be wind for a few hours at night but calm in the day. Others we’d get in a few hours in the morning but then it would die in the afternoon. Somedays there was no wind. It was very unreliable and hard to predict. 

It might seem to make sense to manhaul on the days with no wind, but this is not always a good idea. If we man haul all day we might cover 20 miles, but we could cover that distance in 45 minutes with good wind. So in general we decided to get as much rest as possible on the calm days, then be prepared to put on extra hours on the good wind days.

On July 8 the morning started out with a whiteout but kiteable wind. This was a tricky situation. If we were manhauling we would definitely move in those conditions. But kiting was risky. We would be moving so fast we could easily get separated and not be able to find each other, even using our radios. We had a contingency plan for this case, though. We had set up a group tracking feature on our inreaches. If we got separated we’d pull up the inreach apps on our phones and see a map with each other’s location shown. 

We’d ideally only rely on that as a last resort, though.

 

That day we decided to wait for the whiteout to clear. By afternoon we kited in good visibility and the best wind so far of the trip. We got cruising at 25mph with the long lines and got our best day yet, breaking 50 miles. We also hit another milestone by passing through the saddle of the nansen route. 

While the icecap might look flat, it actually rises to around 10,000ft at summit Station and around 9000ft at a local maximum in the south. The saddle is the low point in between and the point to aim for in a crossing. It felt good to make it to the other side and be traveling downhill, even if imperceptibly. 

We kited a few more days west then had a forced rest day July 12 with no wind. That location turned out to be at a critical juncture. We were far enough west that we needed to think about turning north soon and leaving the nansen route. 

Wind was predicted to pick up around midnight that night from the southeast and be kiteable levels all day. 

We were used to kiting perpendicular to the wind, which is the easiest direction in low wind. Perpendicular would have us moving southwest. Interestingly, that direction would have us reach the abandoned Dye2 communications station in 30 miles. That sounded pretty neat. It’s a huge cold war era structure in the middle of the ice sheet that was abandoned. 

That destination would be sort of useful because we would also be making westward progress and the west coast had the most reliable katabatic winds. 

The alternative option was to try to go slightly downwind moving north. We didn’t want to go northeast (perpendicular to the wind) because that wasn’t productive, but north would be productive since we were well past the saddle. 

Going downwind requires more wind or doing a tricky looping technique. The wind was supposed to be higher (10 -15 kts), so we decided to give that a shot. We took a few hours nap in the evening then started packing at 11pm as the wind started to build. 

Kiting up the west coast “PCT” route

July 13-16

484 miles 

We decided to use the biggest kites and longest lines to hopefully be able to go downwind without needing to loop the kite. Shortly after midnight we were set up and ready to launch. 

We were a bit north of the arctic circle then so the sun never really set. But it did get right down to the horizon making for colorful conditions. The temperature dipped pretty low with the low sun, and we each used lenz heated socks, overboots, down pants, and our biggest mittens/gloves. 

I felt like an airplane pilot when we launched. Our radio sequence was usually something like 

Branden to Eric, wind southeast at 7 knots gusting to 9 over.

Copy Branden this is Eric ready for launch

Roger Eric, launching 

Branden would usually launch first since he was the navigator, then I would follow. That time the launch was pretty strong, nearly ripping me off my feet, but I recovered and righted myself as I felt the big tug of the sleds on the back of my harness. 

We immediately parked the kites overhead and were pulled north. That was the first time I’d experienced what we call park-n-ride kiting. We simply park the kite in the air, point the skis at the kite, and go. No need to loop or lean. 

And we really got ripping fast. We were soon doing 25mph and it felt easy! It was then I realized why the guided groups kite up the west coast instead of the nansen route. We had officially reached the promised land, what we jokingly called the PCT. (Based on the pacific crest trail that goes up the west coast of the US and is very popular). 

Within 2 hours we’d already covered 45 miles, and it was nearly effortless. But the wind started picking up and our biggest kite on the longest line started to get overpowered. So we dropped the kites and switched to the 10m kites with regular lines. 

With occasional looping we were able to again move due north slightly downwind at 20-25mph. 

Later in the morning we noticed a big cloud system approaching from the south moving about the same speed and direction as us. When we stopped for a food break at 80 miles it caught up to us and we were stuck in low visibility. 

We started moving immediately and kited ahead of the system, moving barely faster than the storm. It felt like a scene out of the mad max movie where people are trying to outrun a huge sandstorm. 

We kept cruising at 20+mph and took another break at 125 miles. We were finally comfortably beyond the storm and still going north. 

After that we went another two hours at 25mph and took a break at 175 miles. In those conditions going downwind looping my arms were getting tired from maneuvering the control bar. It really works the triceps. And after 2 hours my feet start getting sore in the ski boots. I don’t really get tired, but breaks are still helpful. 

We both agreed with the conditions so good we ought to push far enough for a bicentennial day. Especially since our previous week had seen so many low-mileage days or zero-mile days. 

So we pushed on another hour, then finally called it at 200 miles. That was the first time we’d ever finished the day while it was still windy instead of stopping because the wind had died. We had been going for 15 hours and were sore enough to be satisfied. (Note: the world record for distance kiting in a day is 369 miles in 24 hours by Larsen and Copeland in 2010 also on the west coast of greenland).

We slept in the next day and didn’t start kiting until 1pm, but with good wind we still made it 100 miles in 6 hrs, just taking one break. That day a storm had us caught in a near whiteout the last 20 miles, and we made sure to stay close together. 

After a zero-wind rest day we managed to do a 184 mile day with more good wind. That brought us to the umiammakku nunaat region, our planned mountaineering spot. 

Mountaineering in Umiammakku Nunaat

4 first ascents

July 17-26

100 miles

I had researched beforehand based on American Alpine Journal articles that some peaks near the coast in the umiammakku nunaat region were unclimbed. The peaks are 20-30 miles in from the coast in the rugged stretch of land where mountains aren’t completely buried under the icecap. The peaks are difficult to access  because they are quite far in from the coast, making boat access challenging, and they are far from the main kiting region and away from reliable wind, making kite access challenging. They are also very far north, farther north than the northern tip of Alaska. 

We planned to kite in as close as possible, then man haul if needed. 

I’d planned a route to hit a bunch of peaks, uncertain how many we’d actually have time for. We figured based on our timing we could devote 8 days to the side trip. This meant it was unlikely we’d hit all our objectives, but we could probably at least climb a few of them.

On July 17 we had already diverted off the main kiting route and could see the peaks in the distance. It was quite a change from flat white snow in all directions to seeing big black rocky mountains! 

We were about 20 miles from our planned transition point and planned to kite there and beyond if possible. We would basically venture on to a big peninsula that narrowed farther out and was flanked by a fjord on on south and a 40 mile glacial tongue on the north leading to the ocean. 

We were now low enough elevation that the snow was getting slushy during the day and refreezing at night. (We were far enough north the sun never actually set but the temperatures did drop between 11pm to 4am). 

This made the snow very icy that morning, which would prove problematic. 

We set up our 10m kites to launch but I had a bit of trouble. In order to launch the kite the procedure is to carefully unfold it while piling snow on one edge. This snow weighs it down so the wind doesn’t pick the kite up off the ground. 

The icy conditions made weighing down the kite challenging. I’d never launched in those conditions before. I chopped up the icy crust with my shovel into small pieces and used those to weight the kite. 

However, when I pulled the lines back to untangle them the wind picked up a corner of the kite and it launched off the ground!

I held tight onto the control bar, knowing if I dropped that the kite would probably blow away and be gone forever. I frantically grabbed for the central line, which acts as a brake. If I could pull that the kite would scrunch into a ball and drop to the ground. 

But the kite immediately went into what’s called a death spiral. It started spinning so fast I couldn’t grab the brake line. It started dragging me across the ice on my belly as I clutched the control bar in one hand, grabbed for the brake line with the other, and dragged my feet into the ground to slow down. 

Luckily Branden was nearby and quickly ran over and tackled the kite to the ground. Crisis averted.

But then the kite had turned into a kitemare – a very tangled mess of lines. That would take at least an hour to untangle and be very tricky in the wind. 

The forecast for that morning was for the wind to die in a few hours. Our options seemed to be untangle it but then have to manhaul to the peaks, or I use my 6m kite and go very slow (the big kite would have been too strong).

But another option was for Branden to just tow me until the wind died. He already had his 10m kite set up to launch. That would be our best shot of not losing our wind window. 

I’ve done a lot of towing from my snowmobile with skiers behind me in Washington, and we could employ the same technique. I tied my glacier rope to brandens harness then made a 3:1 z pulley system and held the end. Branden then launched, but took a hard fall. The kite had jerked really hard forward then the 800lbs getting towed jerked hard backwards.

He got back up with the kite still in the air, though, and we started making progress. Branden had to loop the kite a lot to generate enough towing force and did some downwind techniques. We made good progress for an hour before the wind dropped. 

But then it was low enough to use the big kites. We both set up and continued kiting down the peninsula. We made it to the planned transition point and a bit farther. But then it got icy and the peninsula narrowed and we got worried we were moving too fast. Speed is great on a big flat icecap, but it’s dangerous on a narrow icy peninsula with crevasses below.

So we switched to the smallest kites. Then we could move at a more comfortable and safe pace, though we had to do a lot of looping. 

We made it up and over a few hills, and at last reached the top of the hill that was our planned turnoff to our first peak. The terrain got more complex from there and we had already kited much farther than we’d expected, so we called it good for the day and pitched camp.

The next morning, July 18, we went for our first mountain, peak 1857. Our camp was above 6000ft and the summit was only a little higher, but to get there required dropping 1000ft to cross a glacier. 

The snow was icy so we started out in crampons and made the fateful decision not to bring skis. We roped up and descended to the glacier below, and as we should have expected, the snow got very soft.

We took turns postholing breaking trail across, and eventually reached the base of peak 1857. It was melted down to rock, so we switched to hiking boots while carrying our ski boots for the summit icecap.

Amazingly we saw patches of moss, small flowers, and even a moth and a bird! This was the most flora and fauna we’d seen in weeks! 

After scrambling up the west face we reached the summit icecap. There we transitioned to ski boots and booted the rest of the way to the top. 

We had great views of the long glacial tongue to our north and many more sharp peaks. I posed for pictures holding my shotgun and whippet, an interesting combination. (We were definitely deeper into polar bear terrain near the coast.)

We retraced our route back, and the postholing was still tough. Eventually we reached camp by 10pm and decided a rest day was in order. 

The next day the wind died to zero as expected, and we managed to untangle my kite and I made progress on my books on my ereader. 

We also started sorting gear for our remaining week. Our next peaks were farther down the peninsula, but not all our gear needed to go out and back with us. Ideally we would only take the bare essentials and cache everything else. 

However, there was a nonzero chance that a polar bear might raid our cache. If it destroyed our kites or ate too much of our food we might risk needing a non medical evacuation, which would be bad news. 

So we decided to take the bare minimum amount of gear to climb the peaks and also to kite to qaanaaq. That meant we would take our kites and extra food and fuel, but cache anything else (like even more food and fuel we were very unlikely to use and the spare skis and spare tent).

This worked out so we’d each leave two sleds and bags and each take two sleds and bags. We piled up the gear then piled a bunch of snow on top. 

July 20 we packed up, roped up, and continued deeper into the mountains. On the downhill sections we combined our sleds into a 2×2 grid tied to the middle of the glacier rope to more easily control, and on the uphill we separated so we each towed 2 sleds single file.

After 7 hours we crested peak 2152, but the terrain got sketchy beyond there. It was a steep narrow descent with crevasses looming below and on the sides. We worried the sleds might get out of control and head toward the crevasses. 

So we pitched camp there on the summit. This meant our objectives farther in would likely not work with our time window. We figured at best we could do a one-day out and back trip and try to bag a few peaks.

On July 21 we left camp early traveling light. We cramponed down the steep icy slope, then switched to skis where it mellowed and softened.

 

We had planned to cross over a saddle to access some prominent peaks beyond, but I encountered slushy snow above crevasses that was too sketchy. So we modified our objective to be tagging nearby peak 2171 and peak 2063, two appealing summits. 

We found a safer slope on a different aspect and cramponed up steep icy snow weaving through large crevasses. We soon topped out on peak 2171 and were treated to our first views of the ocean since June! 

We enjoyed the views, then skied down to the saddle we had originally aimed for. From there we ditched skis and scrambled up bare rock to the summit of Peak 2063.

We had more views of icebergs in the ocean and could make out Qeqertarsuaq island far in the distance. This is the location where, in 2017 a landslide from the umiammakku nunaat peninsula created a 300ft tall mega tsunami that hit nugaatsiaq village on the far side of the island. The village was since abandoned.

We hung out on the summit a while before descending to our skis. We made fun turns down the steep face we’d ascended, and this would be some of our only real skiing in Greenland.

Later that evening we returned to camp, satisfied with our four first ascents. That was all we could fit in our time-frame. 

Over the next few days we manhauled our gear back out, picking up our cache along the way. It was luckily not raided by any polar bears.

We reached our planned kite transition point on July 24, but unfortunately the next few days were predicted to be nasty weather. The wind was already picking up to unkiteable high speeds that evening as we reached the transition point. 

We pitched camp there, built a big snow wall for protection, moved the sleds to the leeward side of the tent that usually is free of drifts, and hunkered down.

The next two days were unrelenting blizzard conditions with heavy blowing snow and whiteout. I only left the tent a few times to go to the bathroom. Our vestibule was big enough to cook and gather snow there, meaning we could mostly stay inside. I ended up making more good progress on my books.

Kiting the west coast to Qaanaaq

July 27 – Aug 1

710 miles

On the morning of July 27 the skies cleared and the wind dropped to kiteable levels. It was finally time to make progress. 

We made off-and-on progress early in the day with inconsistent wind that had us changing kites a lot. We finally managed to find good wind with the 15m kites and hit the 100 mile mark just as the wind died. I’d say that day had the roughest sastrugi massages of the whole trip. 

We were almost continuously skiing over icy sastrugi up to a foot high which shook our bodies and sometimes got us briefly airborne. It was hard on the joints, but it felt great to finally be back on the PCT able to put down high mileage days.

We continued averaging 100+ mile days with the reliable katabatic winds, though the temperatures got much colder. A few mornings up north the temperature dropped to -20f and we decided to sleep in later those days. I went all out on layers, kiting in a down jacket, down pants, balaclava, overboots, lenz trigger finger mitts, and lenz heated socks. Still, the wind chill was cold when kiting at 30mph. Those days the high temperature never got above 0f.

As we moved farther up the coast we eventually had to head northwest, which meant moving directly downwind for the dominant southeast wind. It was actually faster to zigzag between due west and due north than to do the tiring looping technique to go directly down wind. Branden did an excellent job navigating as always with his garmin gps velcroed to his shoulder strap. 

On July 31 conditions aligned well and we made the biggest push of the trip, 218 miles in 14 hours. We made it north of the Inglefield fjord and kited west toward Qaanaaq. By evening we reached a point at 4000ft where we’d have to start being more careful about crevasses, so we stopped there to wait for visibility to improve. 

That day we were quite efficient, often moving at 25-30mph and taking breaks every 50-60 miles. I found the limiting factor for me on the big pushes is getting sore from the boots and the hard shell kiting harness. I don’t really get very tired, but after about two hours the harness starts getting uncomfortable on my hips and my ankles get uncomfortable in the ski boots. But generally a 10 minute break resets the soreness clock so I’m good to go again. 

August 1 would be our final kiting day of the trip. Up to that point we hadn’t gotten many pictures or videos of each other actually kiting. It’s hard to take a good picture while kiting, and we’d  been nervous to waste valuable kiting time stopping to take pictures. 

This was our last chance, so we spent a few hours in the morning getting some good shots with our go pro cameras. 

Soon we could see the water of Inglefield fjord and knew we were getting close. But with 30 miles left to the edge of the icecap the wind suddenly dropped. It was only 3 knots and we couldn’t even launch our biggest kite on the longest lines. 

It was almost close enough to just manhaul, but we didn’t want to give up without a fight. We took a nap for a few hours with the kites still set up. Then I was woken up by a light breeze. 

 Branden measured 5 knots, from the east. That meant we’d have to go directly down wind, but we gave it a shot. 

We were just barely able to launch the 15m kites with the long lines. Then we had to do the tricky looping technique going down wind. This was my first time trying this technique and I think the big kite and long lines make it harder. 

I dropped the kite a few times but eventually got the hang of it. It involves making frequent turns zig zagging downwind, which makes the sleds jerk a lot. The snow was getting slushy enough that the sleds started bulldozing up a big mound of snow and slowing me down. 

I tried to park the kite directly above me and yank the sleds over the slush mound. But then my shoulder popped and I got nervous. I’ve dislocated my right shoulder four times in the past year, starting from a fall in the khumbu icefall on Mt Everest. I really didn’t want to dislocate it again, especially just from yanking on a stuck sled. 

With the kite still parked above I slowly scooted back on my skis and dislodged the sleds using my good left arm. Then I could continue making progress. 

We managed to go just 7 miles in 2 hours, but then the wind shifted and picked up and we started going downhill. Finally it looked like we might reach the edge of the icecap that day. 

We could see the edge of Bowdoin Fjord, our target, and McCormick fjord farther north, with the Qaanaaq icecap sitting on the peninsula in between. 

As we got closer to the edge of the icecap we slowed down, and noticed a few very thin cracks a few inches wide in the snow. We knew from talking to other Greenland experts that this region was very safe for crevasses, with a gradual descent and no steep slopes where crevasses might form. Indeed, those tiny cracks were the only ones we saw.

The terrain got icier as we descended, and soon we started crossing runnels where melt water would flow down. It was getting to be quite advanced kiting going down an icy steep slope, while pulling a sled and navigating through the runnels. So we dropped the kites for the last time. 

We then walked the sleds down the slope ahead of us (I call this walking the dog). At the base of the slope we had to cross dozens of deep runnels, and this was challenging with the sleds. I would often just build up speed and rely on the momentum of the sleds to help them jump the runnels.

Finally we reached the morain on the toe of the icecap and could drag the sleds no farther. We pitched camp there, a mere 5 miles from the coast. 

Ferrying gear to the coast 

August 2-5

25 miles 

It felt like the traverse was basically complete, but we still had some of our toughest days ahead of us. We needed to ferry all our gear 5 miles to the coast descending 2500ft. That doesn’t sound too bad, but we had a lot of gear. We didn’t weigh it all but estimated around 250lbs per person. That seemed like it could be split into three heavy but manageable trips down. Maybe we could even do it in two days. 

On August 2 it rained all day so we just stayed in the tent. The next day we each loaded up approximately a third of our gear in a duffle and strapped sleds on the outside. We then wore our kiting harnesses and strapped the bottom of the load to the harness so it would like the hip strap on a backpack. We looped the duffle straps over our shoulder like shoulder straps on a backpack.

The loads were heavy and very awkward to get off the ground. We made slow and steady progress, taking brief breaks to hunch over or sit on a rock every 10 minutes. 

It took 5 hours, but we made it to the coast and dropped off the gear. I returned with my shotgun since we always wanted a gun in polar bear terrain. The round trip took most of the day, and we decided one trip per day would have to suffice. 

The next day we took our second load, and while walking back up the slope we saw two boats cruise up the fjord! It was our first sign of civilization in over a month. 

Finally on August 5 we carried our last load down. On the coast we took out the scale to measure, and my three loads were 90 lbs, 100lbs, and 112lbs! Brandens biggest was 115lbs! We really should have divided those into smaller loads, since those trips were rough.

We repacked our gear to better fit in a boat, then called our contact on the satellite phone that we were ready. However, he wasn’t available.

Luckily we had a backup plan. We called Saki on the Sat phone and she was extremely helpful finding us transportation. Within 2 hours Otto arrived in a boat. He motored close then jumped out in his rubber boots and dragged the boat closer. We loaded all the gear in and soon took off.

He had a comfy muskox hide to sit on in his small cabin. Outside he had a kayak and an inflated seal skin. I learned these are required to legally hunt narwhal using traditional techniques, so he was definitely a seasoned hunter. 

We boated through icebergs for an hour and then arrived in Qaanaaq by 8pm.

All the official lodging was booked up by scientists, but Saki knew of a house under renovation we could stay in. It was unheated with no running water but that was OK with us.

As of August 21 I’m  still in Qaanaaq waiting for a flight out. Flights keep getting canceled. So far I’ve been here 17 days and counting, with four cancelled flights and one I got bumped off (but Branden made it out on that one). Reasons for the cancelled flights include no plane available, technical issue, fog at emergency landing location (upernavik), and wind at qaanaaq. 

Unclear when I’ll make it out. In total we’ve spent 40 days crossing the icecap and I’ve spent 32 days in villages waiting out delays. 

There’s some nice hiking around town though, and the dwarf willow bushes are already turning to fall colors.

Chronology of trying to leave Qaanaaq:

Aug 7 – flight full
Aug 10 – flight cancelled because no plane available
Aug 11 – flight cancelled due to technical issue
Aug 12 – look into boating to ilulissat. No boats in qaanaaq can make the journey (1400km)
Aug 14 – bumped off flight, but cancelled anyways due to weather
Aug 16 – flight cancelled due to wind at qaanaaq
Aug 17 – Branden makes it out. I get bumped to next flight
Aug 18 – flight cancelled due to fog at emergency landing location (upernavik)
Aug 21 – fly out

 

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