K’esugi Ridge was composed after a transformative experience in Alaska’s wilderness as part of the Composing in the Wilderness program. This unique program brought me and fellow composers into Denali National Park and its surrounding areas for a week of hiking and exploration. After the hiking was complete, we had just 72 hours of dedicated composing time to write for a randomly assigned instrumentation. The resulting pieces were then handed to performers, who had only two days to learn and present them in concert.

Each day of the program was an adventure—bushwhacking through rugged terrain, encountering wildlife, and soaking in the midnight sun of the Alaskan summer. Some nights were spent at a base camp near the park, while others took us to an off-grid backcountry research station managed by the park service.

On our final day of hiking, we departed the backcountry for a final time and drove south to Denali State Park for a hike to K’esugi Ridge, accessed via the Little Coal Creek trailhead. It was a rare, perfectly clear day; as we climbed above the tree line, Denali—the tallest peak in North America— became visible behind us in all its majesty. As the day waned, group members gradually peeled off to rest and take in the views, but I felt compelled to continue upward, my gaze fixed forward. With the crest of the ridge in sight and time running short, I sprinted the final stretch. As I climbed, the first snippets of a theme began forming in my mind.

Standing along the crest, I was struck by the interplay of the landscape. From there, Denali’s towering grandeur seemed even greater. Yet equally powerful was the view along the ridge itself, with the trail winding ever-farther into the distance as a promise for some future journey. This moment reminded me that every hike—whether along ridges, through canyons, or across rolling hills—offers its own beauty and lessons. K’esugi Ridge was not breathtaking in spite of Denali, but in conversation with it, and the reverse is true as well. In the landscape, all things are interconnected.

As I hurried back down the trail, the theme continued to take shape. By the time we returned to camp, the first few pages of the music now before you were sketched in my notebook.

I am deeply grateful to Stephen Lias, the program director, and to the wonderful musicians Katie, Alex, Andie, and Joe, whose artistry brought this work to life. I also extend heartfelt thanks to our backcountry guides, Davyd Betchkal and Maria Bossert, whose palpable passion for their work fueled the creative energy behind this piece.