Mt. Wickersham is a 7,415 ft mountain that lies just west of the toe of the Matanuska Glacier. It is a sizable massif encompassing over 15 mile² with a prominent summit that is 4,500 ft above the Matanuska Glacier. The peak was named for James Wickersham (August 24, 1857 – October 24, 1939) who was a district judge for Alaska, appointed by U.S. President William McKinley in 1900.  He served as judge until 1908 and in 1917 was elected to serve as Alaska’s delegate to Congress.  During his term he was instrumental in the passage of the Organic Act of 1912, which granted Alaska territorial status. He also introduced the Alaska Railroad Bill, legislation to establish McKinley Park, and the first Alaska Statehood Bill in 1916.

Wickersham also lead the first recorded expedition to Denali. He departed Fairbanks on May 16, 1903 and his party spent a month working their way to the base of the North Face – which is now known the Wickerham face. Along the way they shot wild game, captured a fox kit which they kept as a pet during the approach. After a month of travel they reached the Peters Glacier where they surveyed their options:

“Everywhere [is] covered with debris which is constantly sinking into caverns and crevasses, where it is ground into gravel and sand by the weight of the glacier, and poured out on the plain by the force of the bed-rock floods. This glacier is active, moving and pushing forward in the track of another which once occupied the same site, but which was far higher and more extensive.”

– James Wickersham, Old Yukon: Tales, Trails, and Trials

They made a half-hearted attempted to work their way up the glacier but soon abandoned all hopes of reaching the summit and began reversing their route.  On their return they built a raft to avoid the arduous hike – but the raft was torn apart shortly after launch and  they lost most of their food and supplies.  The proceeded downriver on foot until past the “raging torrent” where they built another raft and then lazily floated back to Kantishna – eventually working their way back to Fairbanks 2 months after departing.

After his Denali attempt Wickersham was elected to serve in Congress three times. In 1932 he lost reelection and retired to Juneau where he practiced law until his death in 1939.  You can read more about Wickersham’s contributions to the state here.  For more information look for a copy of Evangeline Atwood’s Frontier Politics: Alaska’s James Wickersham either at the library or on eBay – or you can attempt to work your way through Wickerham’s memoir, “Old Yukon: Tales, Trails and Trials.”  However this memoir was, to quote the late Terrence M. Cole, “terribly written”.  “It was too long, boring, and had a number of misremembered events”, Cole said. “That weakness could be due to the passage of time – or because he was a politician.”

Climbing History

The first recorded attempt of Mt. Wickersham was in spring 1969 by the Bludworth brothers who ascended the Glacier Creek route but were driven back first by dense brush and by avalanche danger on a subsequent attempt.  In May 1969 Fred Cody, Harry Bludworth and Grace Hoeman traveled up the Matanuska Glacier and then ascended the East Face but turned around just short of the summit due to avalanche danger.  As they were packing up camp an avalanche roared down the gully above them and through their campsite. No one was injured but gear was lost and the 3 party team had to return across the glacier with use of only a single ice axe between them.  

Hoeman returned on July 3, 1969. She retraced her route up the glacier and up the east face until reaching the bench where they had camped in May.  She found and collected the lost gear (“gloves, overboots, ice axes, rope, camera, canteen”) scattered around the slopes and then began working her way up the Northeast Face.

Early in the not-so-bright morning, I, equally not so bright, work my way up the East Face, which is not difficult, except that the brittle rock slopes out and is covered by small-sized debris. I reach an unstable little summit much earlier than I had anticipated, steal rocks out of the summit tower side to build up the top, on which I dare not stand, place a jar with wrong entry (I call the ascent face NE, maybe this will work as an invitation for a second ascent). I descend along the SE Ridge, which is surprisingly easy and scree down to my camp, chasing sheep the other way. I stack the recovered possessions on top of my load, and where there had previously been one ice axe for three, there are now three ice axes for one. Thus I commence the way home. Taking the pack off occasionally to pick flowers is all right, but putting it back on evokes some stark mutterings, which only the rosy finches hear.

– Grace Hoeman, Scree, August 1969

Hoeman worked her way down glacier and across the muddy toe and eventually to the gated homestead at the toe of the glacier.  Like climbers today she then had to deal with the politics of private landowners controlling public access – but eventually they let her through and she was able to make it back to Anchorage.  “Mt. Wickersham is a worthwhile two day trip,” Grace wrote. She then added her prescient warning for future climbers: “But one had to keep going, otherwise it easily becomes a three-day affair.”

Aside from Hoeman’s ascent of the East Face and subsequent ascents of the Southeast Ridge, the only other route I know of is an ascent of the West Face in September 2008. Cory Hinds, Wayne Todd, Carrie Wang and Richard Barranow traveled up Glacier Creek (the creek west of Wickersham) and then went up a valley due west of the summit. They ascended the valley until they were able to climb a “short steep gully then up and right until encountering the true west ridge with maximum exposure to the north and short steep rock/gendarmes blocking our progress”.

Soon we found ourselves at the base of a series of short rock steps with no easy way through. Did Grace solo this, we pondered as we broke out the climbing gear? A short tricky corner was soon overcome, but our pace slowed as we all came up on the rope. Surely it would be a walk-up now. Wayne scouted uphill and around the north side: nope. Wayne scouted downhill: nope. Another short section of roped climbing needed at 7,200 feet!

The rascal Wickersham was making us work for it. More time slipped by as we all climbed roped up that second step. The weather was still sunny and warm, but it was clouding to the south and we saw a sundog. Now, surely, we would find the easy way up. But no! Wayne pushed up into insecure piles of fractured rock at steep angles at 7,400 feet. It looked dangerous; it was getting late. I decided to look around the corner to the right (east). Yup, that was it: an exposed traverse right (east) below the final bit of fractured rock was the key; the east side was the walk-up.

– Cory Hind, Scree, November 2008

After gaining the Southeast Ridge the party quickly ascended to the summit without issues. They descended the Southeast Ridge to the valley south of the one they ascended and then made it back to camp without incident.

I will add that in September 1996 Thai Verzone and I attempted the Northwest Ridge. We did not get very far due to a myriad of reasons. In short – we crossed the glacier and set up camp on the ice because we thought it would be fun to camp on the glacier. After setting up camp we realized we had forgotten the ligher. We tried several tricks but nothing worked and we ended up cold soaking pasta for dinner and cold soaking oatmeal for breakfast. It wasn’t very satisfying. The next day we bushwhacked from the glacier and gained the Northwest Ridge in a thick fog. We ascended the ridge working our way around a handful of easy rock points until finally being stopped by steep gendarmes with disintegrating rock at which point it became obvious we didn’t know what we were doing. We retraced our ascent route back to our cold glacier camp for another meal of cold soaked pasta and then limped back to the road and hitchhiked home.

Aside from the above routes I know of no other routes on the peak. If you have details of additional routes please reach out.

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An Account of the Southeast Ridge

I climbed Mt. Wickersham in June 2025 with my nephew Jon Finley. We ascended the same route that Hoeman had descended – the Southeast Ridge which has since become the “common” route Common is in quotes because this peak has seen very few ascents over the years. This route entails 7 miles of travel up the moraine on the northeast side of the glacier, a 1 mile traverse across the actual glacier and then a 4 mile / 4,000 ft climb up creeks, scree, tundra and snow to the summit. Technically the route is 95% class 2 with only a couple short sections of easy Class 3 – but the arduous approach, glacvier navigation, objective hazards, route finding and one step forward and two steps back nature of the rock makes the peak difficult and a “worthwhile two day trip”. (If you keep going.)

The first crux of climbing Wickersham is gaining access to the Matanuska glacier. The bridge and access road one crosses to gain the glacier are owned by Matanuska Glacier Park, LLC / locals who reside in the area. You must pass through a gate controlled by the LLC in order to gain access to the road that leads to the toe. The actual toe of the glacier itself is owned by CIRI and CIRI gives Matanuska Glacier Park, LLC exclusive rights to access using a guide service run by Matanuska Glacier Park, LLC. Beyond the area owned by CIRI (as shown below) is public land.

You can bypass the private land and legally access the glacier by rafting down the Matanuksa River to Lions Head rapids and then bushwhacking a mile through mud and dense alder. You could also possibly charter a helicopter from Sheep Mountain Lodge, but they’re mostly busy ferrying glampers to posh tents set up on the ice. Or you can call Matanuska Glacier Park, LLC and request access. They’ll put you through to the owner who will grill you and then make the call as to whether to grant access or not. The owner doesn’t necessarily want to limit access to mountaineers who know what they’re doing – he just wants to stop yahoos from trekking out to the glacier to do stuff like take instagram selfies on a SUP. In our case he asked several questions about experience, then told me we could pay $50 per person and to “not come out in the middle of the night and wake us up at the gate” (e.g. Grace’s prescient warning).

We paid our money and drove to the parking lot. When I attempted Wickersham 29 years ago we casually walked onto the ice from the parking lot. Since then the glacier has receded and a lake has formed at the toe. Antics to gain access have involved everything from wading through deep mud to canoeing across (listen to Adam Gellman’s great trip report on the FirnLine.com). However these days Matanuska Glacier Park, LLC has stepped up and the entry fee grants you access to 500 ft of floating dock which allows you to casually walk across and gain the ice without even getting your boots muddy. This alone was worth the price of admission!

And so across the floating dock to the ice. For the first mile of so there is a faint trail set by the glacier guides – but this soon peters out and you’re forced to meander back and forth across the moraine. If you watch your step the terrain isn’t steep enough to warrant crampons – but if you gawk at the ice and the surrounding lunar-like landscape you inevitably step on bare ice and fall on your ass. This was repeated time and time again and we worked our way up glacier.

This section goes on for 7 miles. It was slow and required a fair amount of backtracking as we continually reached places where the moraine was broken by an impassable crevasse. That said – the first mile is fairly easy due to an existing trail and then last 3 miles are fairly easy due to broad flat areas of moraine next to the ice which make for easy walking – and it only took 3 1/2 hours (which felt like an eternity).

The next objective is to get across the ice – the end goal being the north edge of a glacier pool that can seen in satellite imagery. This pool forms just below the seracs at the end of the glacier’s gradual bend. You’ll want to aim for this pool because from that point on you’ll traverse along the edge of the glacier until finally reaching the creek that drains the East Face. This zone is all ice and sees a bit of movement – and while there is no real route, the route frequently changes due melt and movement (see examples below).

For us this was the crux. While traveling on the ice was straightforward we encountered several swift deep channels of melt water and had to hunt around for safe passage over them. One precarious crossing involved down-climbing a short steep section of ice and then balancing across a submerged slippery rock followed by a jump to bare ice. Added to the excitement was that the channel spiraled into a large deep whirlpool just downstream with an icebridge forcing all water to go deep under the ice.

We made it across in about an hour where we reached the spot where the glacier pool was supposed to be – only to find a pond of deep mud. Sometime in the past 2 weeks this pond had drained – illustrating the dynamic nature of this zone.

We worked our way around the recently emptied pool – the glacier mud threatening to swallow our boots. And then up muddy slopes with large precariously balanced teetering rocks. Moving through zones like this I am always reminded of an accident that occurred in the Alaska Range when a climber leaned against a large boulder that rolled over and caused a fall: “A heavy backpack and the sharp corner of the boulder on which the patient landed resulted in an open left forearm fracture between the elbow and the wrist. The injury exposed bone and caused significant bleeding and intense pain.” (Injury While Descending Glacial Moraine, Accidents in North American Mountaineering, 2017).

With this in mid I gingerly tiptoed up the unstable slopes. This was followed by a half mile of traversing the mud slopes above the glacier before finally reaching the creek. The slopes by the creek consisted of very unstable large rocks so Jon cowered behind a large boulder while I scrambled the the top. After that it was couple hundred feet of moderate bushwhacking up a creek before finally peeling off to the left to a grassy meadow where we set up camp for the night.

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Summit Push

A decent nights sleep and then up at 4:30 for the summit push. A quick breakfast and some coffee and we were off. The next portion of the route follows the creek for roughly 1/4 mile at which point the canyon narrows and you turn off and ascend a steep scree slopers to the right (north) of the creek. The morning was foggy and we waded through the midst peering uphill for the slope until eventually it came into view. Then up the scree and dirt slopes for 1,000 ft to gain a tundra bench above the canyon. We sidehilled across the slopes above the creek before eventually regaining the creek at the 4,000 ft contour.

Finally we were above the brush and a few steps higher brought us above the clouds where we could finally see the peak and our route. An hour of hiking through shin deep snow brought us to the slopes we’d need to climb to gain the Southeast Ridge. There were signs of recent avalanches all around us so we opted to space out the climb to the ridge. I set off first – aiming for the lowest angle slopes to the southwest of our position. I made it a few hundred feet before sinking to my waist in isothermal snow. Going up the snow was no longer a viable option so I traversed lookers-right to gain a steeper gully that was half melted out. This gully had firmer snow and I was able to make decent time up the 800 ft slope to gain the ridge.

And finally on the Southeast Ridge proper. It was only 900 ft to the summit from where we gained the ridge – but it was true scree slogging with almost one step forward, two steps back progress. We slogged on – slowly making our way up the loose rock. There were a couple short sections where we used hands for balance – but mostly it was just tedious scree.

And finally the last few feet to the summit: a short rocky knob, across an exposed snow rib and finally the tenuous summit block and rising slowly to balance on the shifting rocks. Jon and I hung out on the summit for a while snapping photos and looking down at the glacier below and then turned and began reversing the route.

Down the snowy ridge, down the scree, then down the access gully which had turned into thigh deep isothermal mush. Across the lower snow which was also thigh deep mush and finally down the scree gully to the creek and back to our tent.

It had taken us 6 hours to reach the summit from camp and 3 hours to get down. We were tired and could easily have fallen asleep in the tent – but we had only packed 2 days of food so we had to keep going (otherwise it easily could have becomes a three-day affair).

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Exit

The rest is a blur. We reversed or route: bashing through the alder by the creek to the unstable moraine above the glacier, traversing though shin deep mud to gain the glacier, across the ice and balancing across the same rock and then the drudgery of hiking across miles of pebbles (barely) frozen to ice.

The moraine seemed like it took forever and at times we contemplated setting up the tent for the night – but we kept going. 8 hours of drudgery but we kept going. We reached the guides trail around 10pm and then the floating dock and then we were at the car after 17 hours on the go.

And finally in the car and driving. The gatekeeper was still awake and we passed through without having to knock on doors. We made it home at midnight. 2 long days. Grace’s message lingered: “Mt. Wickersham is a worthwhile two day trip…But one had to keep going, otherwise it easily becomes a three-day affair.”

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