When Weston Athlete Claire Hewitt-Demeyer headed north to Alaska this spring, she wasn’t chasing the easy version of a dream trip — she was chasing the real thing: bluebird lines, endless peaks, and a full immersion into the raw power of the mountains.
But as she found out, Alaska doesn’t hand out summit days easily. You’ve got to earn it — with patience, resilience, a heavy gear load, and a whole lot of grit.
Photo: Kasey Renfro
Baptism by Fire: The Thompson Pass Experience
Claire flew into Anchorage and kicked things off with a quick tour at Hatcher Pass, where the snow was so warm it was practically "hot pow" - think sports bras and sunscreen more than puffies and powder. But once she made it to Thompson Pass, things shifted.
The plan? Spend 21 days living out of an Arctic Oven tent, chasing lines and soaking up the Alaskan spring.
The reality? Three days of bluebird skies... and 12 straight days of relentless storms. Welcome to the lottery that is Alaska.
In Alaska, it’s not just about waiting for a sunny day - it’s about waiting for what locals call “sucker holes.” Tiny 30-45 minute windows of blue sky, where if you’re fast and lucky, you might just snag a rideable line before the weather socks back in.
"It's humbling," Claire says. "You sit for so long. You’re jonesing to ride. Your stoke is through the roof - and then you have to turn around because the mountains say 'not today.'"
Patience isn’t optional out there. It’s survival.
Photo: Ashley Epis
Flying Solo — And Finding Community
Claire went up mostly solo - just her, her gear, and a stubborn determination to make it happen.
No snowmobile? No problem. She walked the pass carrying gas cans, asking around for rides. (“Doubling princess” became her unofficial title.) And it worked - thanks to the incredible Thompson Pass community, Claire found herself folded into a tight crew of locals, fellow athletes, and new friends.
Family dinners, fireworks, shared stoke - the human connection up there was just as powerful as the mountains themselves.
“If I take away anything from Alaska, it’s the family I found up there,” Claire says. “Thompson Pass really came together to make my experience unforgettable - from bringing wood from their homes so my tent had a floor, to bumping me out to zones and sharing their local knowledge. No one on Thompson Pass has to suffer; out here, we take care of each other.”
Photos: Greg Stafford
Three Days of Riding, a Lifetime of Lessons
In 21 days, Claire scored just three full days of riding aside from the random “sucker holes” which meant there was 45 mins to an hour and half with clear enough skies to access the nearby gullies. And they weren’t the typical mega-lines you might expect from Alaska edits. High winds, persistent weak layers, and avalanches kept things cautious. One day, after a close call with a massive slide, the crew made the tough but right call to back down.
But even the smaller lines - and the days of not riding - held their own kind of magic.
When the clouds broke long enough Claire was able to reach further away zones. A good hour and half to two hour double ride out on the snowmachine and she reached some zones with towering panels that shoot straight into the sky, almost too steep and dramatic to believe they’re rideable.
Photo: Greg Stafford
“That place… it didn’t even make sense,” Claire laughs. “You just come over a ridge and these peaks explode out of the ground. Unreal.”
She also found herself wandering into ice caves, sledding under the spring sun until late evening (hello, 9:15 p.m. sunsets), and even surviving a zero-gravity plane ride that left the entire crew green around the gills. (Pro tip: Don’t plan a high speed glacier landings on gusty days.)
Claire with with skier Tami Razinger. Photo: John Ross
Packing Like a Pro... Sorta
Getting ready for Alaska isn't exactly throwing a duffel in the back of the truck. Claire checked three bags and carried two - racking up $230 in airline fees - and somehow still almost ran out of layers.
Lesson learned: No matter how warm you think you packed, it's not enough. Glacier air doesn’t play.
Claire's essentials included:
- Arctic Oven tent with a propane heater
- Negative 20-degree sleeping bag, 20- degree light sleeping bag - this went over the negative sleeping bag, and a 5- degree sleeping bag liner ( if you can afford it just purchase a negative 40- degree sleeping bag.
- Puffy pants (non-negotiable)
- Backup boot liners
- Dark chocolate to share with everyone on down days
And next year? She’s coming back even stronger — including logging more sled training so she can ditch the doubling princess life (maybe).
Photo: Greg Stafford
Final Takeaways: Advice for Your Alaska Dreams
If you’re thinking about making your own pilgrimage to Thompson Pass (or anywhere remote in AK), Claire’s advice is pretty simple:
- You’ve got to be present to win — boots on, pack ready, and ready to jump at every blue-sky opportunity.
- Be self-sufficient. Snowmobiles are mandatory unless you want to spend all day touring just to find everything tracked out.
- Overpack for warmth. Puffy pants, Thermic heated socks, and an extra absurd vintage puffy jacket? Yes.
- Mentally prepare to sit. Weather rules everything. You might be stuck for days - or weeks.
- Find the community. Bring meals. Bring good vibes. It’ll come back tenfold.
- Stay humble. Alaska isn’t a resort. The mountains decide what you get — and you’re lucky for whatever they give.
"The moments you do get… you forget you sat for so long. And you just feel insanely grateful." — Claire Hewitt-Demeyer
Photo: Sean Clawson
Photo: Greg Stafford
Claire's Board Quiver:
- Dream Machine — Ultimate versatility when the conditions turned.
- Eclipse — For surfy, playful power on bigger terrain.
Want more from Claire’s Alaska mission? Stay tuned — she’s piecing together a film, Pinnacle: Women on the Edge, capturing the highs, the lows, and the magic in between.
Catch Claire's sick POV line from AK → HERE.
Follow @wheres_claire_now for more pow slayin greatness.