Closing the System

Hi Everyone,

This past Friday I was at the main cliff in Rumney and ran into Vasya. We discussed his previous post on closing the system. Both the Figure Eight and Overhand knots pictured on Vasa’s post are loosely tied. If the end of the rope works its way through there will be no knot to act as a blocker.

A better option is called the Barrel knot, it is essentially half of a Fisherman or a Double Overhand. The key is to set the knot so it is not loosely tied.

The loops in rope bags are convenient for finding the end of the rope but they do not serve well for closing the system. Each time you climb be sure to check the end of the rope and tie a secure barrel knot.

Thanks to Vasya for bringing this subject to the blog.

Art Mooney
IFMGA/AMGA mountain guide

Epic Crested Butte Winter

It was a long winter in Crested Butte, CO this year, and it just wont let go either. We had little early season snow, and I was worried about what to do with the first Avalanche Safety Course of the season. Just in time, it dumped the weekend of the first course, and didn’t let up until the New Year! Christmas time brought three feet of fresh in two days along with high avalanche danger making for tricky conditions during a very busy week of backcountry ski guiding. Luckily I had mostly strong clients and we were able to get out in great powder and get some amazing turns.

The snow stopped in mid January, the sun came out and got warm! We actually got great corn skiing on the higher south facing peaks in the valley, and I was able to take some clients on epic ski mountaineering tours usually reserved for the stable conditions of spring.


The break was short lived, though, and another meter of snow finished out the month, making for some fun avalanche control work with the Crested Butte Pro Ski Patrol.





March came in like a lamb and it seemed the ski season would end early. After two weeks of T-shirt weather and amazingly stable snow and skiing winter returned to no surprise of any local who has seem this pattern before. It always looks like spring in the Rockies before it really is! I took advantage of the warm weather to get in some fantastic ice climbing with clients and friends. The sunny days and cold nights created fat ice in the San Juans and the Black Canyon.



A few more weeks of snow had people grumbling and headed for the desert, but those of us who stuck it out were treated to a high alpine powder fest with big lines being skied with great conditions and little avalanche danger.

With the Crested Butte Mountain Resort ski area closing the first week of April, many of my clients began booking backcountry trips to extend their skiing beyond the lift lines. Unfortunately, after a week of getting after it in the heavier than usual powder, my knees couldn’t take it any more and I tore my ACL. It was an interesting situation as I was 900 vertical feet above the valley and a 6 mile snowmobile ride from the trailhead with two clients and my father who was visiting from Vermont. I still managed some decent one-ski powder turns and got home without any further problems. Being off-season in town already, I couldn’t find a doctor in town for several days! Finally I got a hold of a great surgeon here in CB and he was able to get me into the hospital for repair on Tuesday…..the same day I was scheduled to fly to Chamonix for the spring guiding season. Bummer. Now I am 5 days out of surgery, icing and elevating and watching the snow continue to fly outside my window.

I guess I need a bit of time to catch up on things (like writing this blog) but being forced into it by injury is not the way to go. On the plus side, I should be climbing by June, just when it starts getting good in Colorado, and the doc thinks I will be 100% by the end of July, so I can still get over to the Alps for the end of the summer mountaineering season there.
-Steve Banks
IFMGA Guide

From Z to A ... a trip report from the motherland

by John Atkinson

Zermatt to the Argentierre Glacier, that is.

Hannah and I recently celebrated our upcoming July betrothal with an early honeymoon to Europe. Given that we were on a well-deserved (and mellow) vacation, our goals did not include major extreme routes, so don't expect any 50 degree couloirs or 50 foot bergschrund hucks. That's for another trip. However, do expect deep culture, fun skiing, inspiring landscapes and a little amour. Tres bien!

A little powder on the Grand Montets ...

As I was packing for the trip, I realized that this was not just a personal pilgrimage to one of skiing's major meccas, all my gear was returning home too.

Garmont boots are designed and made in Italy, Dynastar skis are born in the Chamonix Valley and of course Mammut is a Swiss company. In fact, I couldn't believe how much Mammut has a presence in these areas.

Welcome back to the motherland!

__________________________________________

Arriving in Geneva, we spent a night in this cool city and then boarded a train to Zermatt.

Geneva ... extreme traveling.

We only had time for one run on our first day, so we went right to the top of the Kleine Matterhorn cable car at 12,500'. That's 7000' of skiing back to town.

Good thing I've been training with non-stoppers on Liftline and Ripcord all season. The weekly skinning missions and sporadic gym time helped too.

I've had great results using ginseng to prevent altitude issues and experienced no problems going from basically sea level at JFK to this elevation in just over a day. If you don't like diamox and don't have a history of altitude-induced edema, it may work for you too.

As we stood on top, with so much mountain below us, we were reminded of just how insignificant and fragile we really are. Despite the close proximity of civilization, you could quickly disappear here and never be found. Between the real dangers of glaciated terrain and the pure vastness, we decided not to wander very far on the first run.

However, even on-piste, the views were pretty special. The Matterhorn dominates the skyline, even when it's mostly hidden.

We skied down and down and down, eventually getting near the bottom, where we began to see restaurants along the edge of the trail. Rounding a corner, we ran into a full-blown raging party, complete with an English band playing '80's cover tunes.

Sweet child o' mine, normally we wouldn't stop for this kind of fun, but when in Rome ... Hennu Stall rocked!

We spent the next day exploring Zermatt and wandering over the Italian border to the Cervinia ski area.

Two ski areas, two countries, two prosciutto and brie sandwiches at a mountaintop refuge, too much vertical, too many runs, too much fun! We skied almost all the way around the Matterhorn.

While on a cable car on the way to the top, I overheard a woman talking about skiing at Sugarbush. Half a world away and we're still close to home.

With our wanderlust partially satisfied, we decided to look for good snow and sunshine for our final day in Zermatt. We found it. Plus, we found another cool restaurant to chill our hot feet. Lots of corny vertical builds up quite a thirst! With appropriate gratitude and reverence, we started calling it "our daily beer."

It's funny how "off-piste" in Europe may be right under a lift. The hazards are clear though, you need to duck under a rope every time you leave a piste. No mistake about who is responsible for your actions.

We saw a lot of helicopter rescues and very few ski patrol. We also bought the rescue insurance and had conversations with locals about our liability-based system. No matter how hard we tried to illuminate them, they couldn't understand the logic. Frankly, after trying to explain it, I don't understand it anymore either.

Personal responsibility rules!

Fun is universal. These kids were pounding away at each other with snowballs, providing entertainment for the adults wining and dining just below them.

Incoming!

All too soon, we ran out of time and trail. Yes, it was a little bit of a bummer, but rain was moving in and the Easter weekend crowds were growing rapidly.

Oh well, on to the Burgerbad hot springs!

This was a true bouillabaisse of European, and thanks to us, North American, germs. Yummy!

However, the hot water did wonders for sore muscles. We felt like pruny jellyfish after an hour and a half of soaking.


The floating relaxation helped work up an appetite too.





Did I mention that meat, cheese, beer and wine are the four basic food groups in Europe? Cigarettes and coffee are also primary sources of nutrition. We tried to avoid the tabac, but heartily sampled the espresso.

We spent the night in Martigny and then jumped on a train to Chamonix from there. The ride up the valley was incredible, with sheer walls on either side that were covered by farms.

The extensive hand-built terracing mellowed the terrain a little, but there were extremely steep pastures, vineyards and fields being cultivated. Later in Chamonix, our buddy Dean would describe how surprised he was to see summer herds of cows at 11,000 feet at the top of some of the gnarliest ski runs.

We had to change to a bus then wait for another train to get into Chamonix proper, so we decided to have lunch at the stop. The proof that we were leaving staid Switzerland and entering freaky France was when our waiter appeared.

Bonjour! Comment t'allez-vous?

A plate of meat, a bowl of melted cheese and some boiled potatoes ... health food! I came very close to doubling my lifetime consumption of proscuitto and other similar ham products on the trip.

By the way, I have to applaud the French for not pulling any punches when it comes to bacon. Their word for bacon is "lard." Mmmm, lard.

Soon, we entered Chamonix, got off the train, grabbed our key to the apartment we rented and settled in. The Aiguille Du Midi and Mount Blanc were literally in our backyard.

Welcome to advanced base camp!

Very civilized.

Downtown Chamonix ... not a bad seat in the house.

We woke the next morning to bright skies, although our plan to go up the Aiguille du Midi had to change because of persistent clouds around the summit area.

Sugarbush Coach Dean Decas, the unofficial American Ambassador to Chamonix, was our fearless and knowledgeable leader. He has spent the last twenty springs in Cham and has the place dialed.

It was great to reconnect with him on the other side of the pond after many adventure together in the Green Mountains. We even visited a moose in Slide Brook the last time we skied together in March.

Hannah was happy to get some hiking in and check out the views of the rooftop of the Alps.

"We're going down there. Careful of the crevasses, ice and sun-affected snow. Have fun!"

"Down there" was a long way to go. Lots of different couloirs, faces and snowfields. Nicely steep, not too soft yet. All right!

After a couple of hikes and runs though, the sun started get to the lower elevatiuons and we decided to hightail it out of there.

That's a four foot crown of an avalanche that ran all the way to the ground, without a human trigger. This slide happened some time between one run and the next.

This area is also where Dean was recently flushed over a 25 foot cliff in an avalanche. Despite the locals calling this spot "Mini-Golf" due to its relatively small size compared to the rest of Chamonix's gnarl, it proves that even small fractures can be dangerous. Sometimes more so, because it can be easier to let our guard down.

Headed towards the Grand Montets!

Grand Montets hors piste. Big seracs and hidden crevasses kept up on our toes.

On the way down to the bottom after a day of sweet turns, Dean pointed out a local legend. Maybe you've heard of Sylvain Saudan? The Skier of the Impossible, himself! It was a real honor to meet him and see that he is still breaking new ground.

Extreme dirt skiing!

Hannah and I explored Le Brevent and Flegere the next day, skiing corn and checking out the enormous views of Mont Blanc and the Aiguilles.

These areas are large in their own right, with lots of great touring possibilities and plenty of challenging skiing.

The next day was raining in town and a whiteout on the mountain. Vertigo isn't all that much fun, so we took a break to rest.

The Grand Montets delivered nicely after the clouds opened up again.

Skiing down the edge of the Argentierre Glacier. Little ants on skis!

Go Muppet! Some stuff was melting out down low.

Hannah was feeling a little worked after the heavy powder the day before, but I wanted to keep the skiing going. While she took a walk in town, I went up Brevent again and did a little straightforward tour off the top of the cable car.

Not too shabby!

When I got down to the turn-around point, I pulled out lunch and started to eat, marveling in the surrounding scenery.

This is St. Gervais, out the end of the Chamonix Valley.

Brevent is a popular parapenter launch, so I wasn't surprised to see a few. However, a few quickly turned into too many to count, as Mont Blanc's skies were engulfed multi-hued nylon.

This is the Aiguille Du Midi from across the Valley.

It was so calm, I could hear them talking to each other. I heard a few whoa's, but otherwise, they flew like birds in a flock.

This turned out to be a competition of some sort and I watched them fly all the way down the Chamonix Valley and out to St. Gervais.

Climbing back up the face, my legs enjoyed some skinning time, working out the lactic acid from several days of cranking turns.

On our last ski day, two Sugarbush regulars, Will and Dave, showed up and Dean led us all around the Grand Montets in a whiteout.

Watch for the seracs and crevasses!

The moon was setting over the Aiguille Du Midi, as we packed up and headed back to Geneva.

These mountains were inspiring from beginning to end and we felt lucky to be able to share them with good friends, both old and new.

Many thanks to Mammut, Garmont, Dean Decas,Vermont North Ski Shop, Alpine Options, Sugarbush Resort, our parents, Paul the caretaker, and all our friends who helped make this trip possible and fun.

Au revoir!

Safety & Springtime

Hi everyone,

I was up at Rumney this past Sunday, and aside from running circuits on climbs I've done in the past, I found out exactly how unsafe climbing can be...

The day started out well, we were joking around, enjoying some of the best conditions New England has to offer. I trusted my belayers to catch me when I was in need of one and they trusted me not to mess up the beginning of the climb, where you're on your own until you reach the first draw. And it was the same for everyone else that was out there, enjoying springtime at one of the most popular crags in the US: trusting that gri-gri to catch the rope, and lower people off on auto-pilot by pulling that plasticey lever. Even with the general concern for each other's safety, checking for availability of all draws, making sure the rope isn't torn up to the core, and the regular precautions one can make, something can go wrong.

Today it might not happen to you, but something CAN go wrong, and EVERY safety check should be performed! There was an accident at Main Cliff, involving two of my good friends. They got on an easy (I mean, really easy for them) 5.10, and started climbing just like you would on anything. The climber got to the top, and was being lowered off, until the 60m rope, likely attached to the bag, went right through the gri-gri, knot untying easily, and the climber (my friend) falling straight on his back/neck from 10-15ft high. He hurt his vertebrae (cracked?) but survived and is in a 1-2 month recovery with a neck brace. Regardless of the details of what happened, safety should not be taken for granted, and this is a reminder to us all, from beginner to expert climbers! (Peter Kamitses, I've never seen anyone take it more seriously than you, keep it up)

I have to say, I have been taking tying a knot at the end of the rope for granted until that day, and tying a knot such as I've been tying for the past 10 years won't help the rope. The regular, pretzel knot will not save your rope from being pulled through the gri-gri! Take 2 extra seconds to tie a figure eight... Be safe out there: the more people stay safe, the more people will buy the gear, the better it is for this industry! ;)

knot that will not save your rope from going through the grigri

knot that WILL save the rope from running through the grigri

both images were ripped off of google... sorry, google.

Yours,

Vasya Vorotnikov

Easter In Skaha, Penticton, BC

We escaped a rainy weekend in Squamish by dashing off to the cliffs of Skaha in Penticton, about 5 hours away. As always, the weather was much nicer in the dry, sunny Okanagan and we got a bunch of nice climbing days in. Skaha is a great climbing area, likely second only to Squamish in western BC. It has hundreds of single pitch routes spread across a couple of large valleys and the climate is very reliable for rock climbing in the spring and the fall. The grade spread is good, with tons of routes in the 5.10-5.12 range. The 5.13 grade is well-represented, but so far the hardest climbs are 5.13d so there is room for some good testpieces (check out the cliff Shangrai-la if you are interested in bolting steep rock).

This is a picture of the campground, Banbury Green. It's a great spot on Penticton Lake and you can see the cliffs across the water. We highly recommend this very civilized and pretty spot.


This is a photo of my friend Jay climbing on the Maternal Wall. This wall is very popular and has about a dozen quality overhanging routes in the 5.11 to 5.12- range. It's a great place to get pumped!

Here, my friend Casey is working his first ascent project at the end of the Little White wall. It's a crimpy, sustained line and will probably be 13a, making it the testpiece on the wall.


The Little White wall has a good selection of vertical lines on compact stone. This route is the sole arete on the cliff and is a popular 5.11a. My wife Pam is sending in this picture.

The flora and fauna are a special part of a climbing trip to Skaha. It's a really pretty place.


For those living in Washington or Western Canada, we highly recommend it if you haven't already been!

Enjoy the climbing,
Marc Bourdon

Pennies For Peace

A few weeks ago I was asked to do a slideshow at a local elementary school on Pakistan. Turns out the school is doing their annual fundraiser for the Central Asia Institute; a non profit run by Greg Mortenson that helps build schools in impoverished areas of northern Pakistan and eastern Afghanistan. If you haven't read Greg's book Three Cups of Tea it's worth checking out. I've seen several of the schools the CAI has built in Pakistan firsthand, and the profound impact they can have on a isolated rural community is inspiring to say the least.

Although I was very excited to do the show and be involved with a good cause, my slideshows usually aren't particularly G-rated, so it was a great learning experience for me to try to educate and entertain a group of young kids. Pretty photos of big peaks didn't come off nearly as well as the animal shots. A giant water buffalo in the back of a truck was an especially big hit. The local NPR station ran a short piece on the program, which you can listen to here.

Summer's Coming

Been pretty busy over the last few weeks climbing and putting up new routes at Ghost Town. This place is just fun in the sun....unfortunately, that sun keeps the climbing there to a minimum during the Summer (not to mention the world class amounts of poison ivy). Got to get it in now. Here's a few photos from a couple of new routes I did recently. Both are 5.10 and classic. Pretty soon it will be time to head to the north faces and hopefully find even more potential.......

Dragging a brand new Mica T up this chimney and it survived quite well!

-Brian Williams

RRG, GB, peeling money off the wall...

To all the Mammut bloggers, to all the readers:

Hi, my name is Vasya Vorotnikov and this is my first post from a small college town of Durham, NH. But really, it’s not like I’m trying to reach aliens or something, hello-hello (btw if you haven’t seen Zoolander, watch it whether you’re in dipers or you’re a tenured professor).

“Allow myself to introduce… myself” (Mike Myers). I am now getting ready to graduate, as long as I manage to put together my senior thesis, two chemical engineering design projects, do well on my nuclear engineering exam (hopefully, it’ll be open book/notes and maybe we’ll get to ask our professor how to actually do the problems)… all that in the next month. I seem to be enjoying this so much that I decided to continue torturing myself with more books full of equations and more variables than English and Greek alphabets can handle. I’m going to graduate school, not sure where at this point, but will shortly figure it all out (who needs deadlines?).

WTF?? Don’t worry, guys. I use engineering as a cover-up for my rest days from climbing. It’s all good. I plan to keep climbing, even if it means typing up lab reports while chewing on a slide or two from Miguel’s Pizza… and by one or two, I mean four or more. But yeah, I recently paid a visit to KY with my engineering-climbing friend (he doesn’t really know what he wants, heard he’s been pulling V11s at Pawtuckaway, NH recently while answering his work phone) Neil Mushaweh. This trip inspired me to learn how to manage climbing trips and higher education in a whole new way: spend a week in a lab, then one at a climbing crag typing up your report – that’s my Utopia anyway.

No comment. I plead the 5th. Photo by Neil Mushaweh.

So… Kentucky… Bob Marley wall… Motherlode… yeah, that’s pretty much all we saw there in the 3.5 climbing days Neil and I spent there. My goal was to get on Southern Smoke (5.14c), Joey Kinder’s new route from last fall and give it some good work, a.k.a. send it. Between low endurance, half-hurt finger, manky or some might say wet conditions, I gave it all I could before quitting on the proj and just getting some climbing in: Ultraperm (13d), No Redemption (13b), Cut throat (13b), and Take That Katie Brown (13b). But you know how trips are: it’s a never-ending struggle between getting on all the stuff you can do 1st/2nd try and that project you dream of, or have nightmares about, whichever.

But trips are also about the people, and we did hang with a few… A fresh-outa-high-school thug-gangsta Ian Dory was killing it with a slightly old-school approach: by doing the easier routes first (who knew that would actually work?) Then, there was Peter Kamitses, celebrating his birthday Kentucky-style, getting away from his family for 3 weeks to send Transworld Depravity (14a), ticking off a few others, and play around on Southern Smoke. I didn’t forget to mention Will Mayo, who wowed us with his Chris Sharma screams, growling his way to the top of a 5.12 while the only sounds I made on my proj started with the letter “F” (sorry, should have warned about this post being rated R). Sorry about the lack of photos or video. Tim Kemple was too busy on his latest routine trip to Argentina, although Will took a few pics of my “lats”.

Let me throw a couple more updates at you since I already started. I’ve been trying to get outside as much as possible this past winter, but it added up to about 3 climbing days, productive nonetheless. I paid a visit to the Spectacle Pond boulder, oh so surprisingly situated at the Spectacle Pond up in the Rumney area. Weather was cool, with about 20 degrees F with the wind chill, snow was 1.5-2 feet deep, but fortunately for Mike Foley, Max, Taylor, and I, our friend Dave Wetmore volunteered to produce a trail to our bouldering destination. Unfortunately for Dave, his pants got wet and ended up freezing, so upon reaching the boulder, he had to take them off and hang out in his boxers. My warm up (kids, please always warm up before you climb) consisted of taking off my extra pair of pants and lending them to Dave, after torturing him for 10 minutes Dumb-and-dumber style, and clearing the landing from all the snow. Our target route was the Spectacle Illusion (V12) put up by Paul Robinson a few springs ago, and I ended up sending after learning all the moves.

Every time we go out to climb in the Northeast, whether the temps are good or not, seems to be just another adventure. And, being in this game for the past 12 years, I still seem to learn something new every time. When Neil and I headed up to Great Barrington, it was no different. We met up with Danny Yagmin and Phil Schaal at the Speed boulder, only to find that Roses and Blue Jays (V12/13) cannot possibly go because the key holds are wet despite the perfect 50s-and-sunny conditions. The dedication and ingenuity of our South-side (Connecticut) connections, however, reported otherwise. Phil absolutely crushed Double Down (V13 put up by Danny Yagmin) despite EVERY hold being wet when they got up there. I ended up sending Roses and Blue Jays on my third try from the start. Dan came 0.25 inches from crushing Something from Nothing, the bottom of which was also full of mank and dank… “Ridiculous… How doeth he doo it???” This is a secret I’m willing to share with all ya’ll today: it’s toilet paper! No, we didn’t wipe our own a$$, we stuffed it deep into the holds of some of the hardest New England has to offer. Within minutes, the amazing TP absorbed all the moisture to allow sendage. The day didn’t stop there, and I ended up topping out a V9 and two more 10s, making it one of the best bouldering days I’ve had.

Pulling money off the wall at Heart of Steel Bouldering Competition. Photo by Mike Hall.

As much as I have already written, I wanted to add a few words about the Heart of Steel Bouldering Comp that took place at Boston Rock Gym a few months ago, in January. Max Zolotukhin and Gavin Heverly were going for an afternoon session at GB, and obviously had nothing to do in the car but talk a bunch of climbing nonsense. One of the topics that came up was competitions, and you know how it goes: “Euro style dis and dat, the ABS blah blah blah, but I like Jason Danforth’s Mammut Bouldering Championships the best because dat and dis”. But these guys said “Let’s make climbers climb for the money they want, literally”, and that’s what happened. Three guys, three girls, disco-lights-style finals, and you have to strategize on how to pull cash off your climb. It doesn’t matter if you finish the climb, whether you get a certain hold or not, just that you start from the beginning, and pull as much dinero off the wall as you can. $200 per problem, with $10, 2X$20, $50, and $100 bills flying in the air. I was lucky enough to win the competition with strong men Dave “Mr. Metrorock” Wetmore and John Glassberg on my back. Not to brag or anything, but I was psyched to get all the money they didn’t pull off the wall…

Feats of Strength IV comp at the Cliffs in Valhalla, NY. (daxopus.com)

Another one from Valhalla, NY. Courtesy of the Cliffs climbing gym.

Check out a cool video at http://vimeo.com/2984985 (Heart of Steel by Taylor de Lench)

On that note (if anyone got this far reading this blog entry), I’ll end… till next time!

Yours,

Vasya

OH YEAH!

I've been balancing team obligations and personal climbing the last few weeks. I wasn't able to climb after the Red Rock Rendezvous because the flu pretty much rendered me powerless. As soon as i felt better i returned to warmer climates with various friends for some desert climbing and bouldering mixed in with sessions of Internet work at various random locations!

If feels great to be back out climbing after a three month ski distraction! Enjoy the photos...

The Shipyard - Long Canyon

Mentoring the next generation

Heather warming up on the Black Box - Big Bend

A fun corner route in Long Canyon

Working on wide cracks - Black n Stack's - Offwidth City

Technical approach in Joe's Valley

a fun problem in Joe's

Flashing the highball problem - Twilight

Working on a new problem high in the left fork

Heather and Marry Ann on a cool route at Area 51

Dean Lords - Idaho

The Chugach Balance

Climbers and alpinists love challenge--in fact, the act of overcoming adversity is what makes their respective crafts all the more rewarding. While more glutonous, heli ski guides in the Chugach have their own obstacles to overcome in their passionate pusuit to guide descents of the range's biggest peaks.

The combination of good snow, good stability, capable clients, and perfect weather for landing a single engine helicopter on a knife edge ridge to descend a 3000' 50 degree ramp requires patience, self-discipline, group awareness are of course, luck.

In 2009 in Valdez, we have had an ample amount of these lucky days. In the face of an ailing economy, an erupting volcano (Mt. Redoubt), and typically challenging weather, we have had a hell of a lot of solid clients, stable snow, and weather windows. All this adds up to deep snow on steep classics like Pontoon, Meteorite, East Peak, and the many unnamed peaks in the Lost World out beyond the Stevens Glacier to the west.

One such day was April 2. Along with Jeff Zell, a veteran of 15+ seasons skiing in the Chugach, I guided a group, trained up by none other than late the Doug Coombs. In fact, many of us met just days after Doug's passing.

It is one day before the anniversary of Doug's tragic death in La Grave in 2006, and we are starting the day with Meteorite, one of the most sought after runs in the range--a 3000' ramp with a 55 degree entrance in the no-fall zone followed by another 3000k of powder to the valley floor. Not bad for a warm up run.

The upper 2/3rds of Meteorite. Photo: Simone Blei

As the day unfolds there are many more steep runs in deep, stable powder--some with rather harrowing landings in outrageously exposed locations. It is quite a feeling to step out of a helicopter onto a knife edge ridge no wider than your shoulders. There is no transition as there is in climbing, where even the hike to the cliff eases you into the vertical world.

Doug Workman, after being dropped off alone to build a proper landing zone. Photo: T. Koether

Standing in such places, as all climbers know, changes ones' entire sense of place in this world. The mountains' dauting size and sheer walls put us in our place--forces humility upon us. Being able to ski down their flanks allows us to regain some sense of control.

East Peak, with Doug, a microdot, below. Photo: Christian Cabanilla

By the end of the day, we had skied runs I had never even seen, far away on the outer edges of our zone. We had wandered amoungst deep glacial holes, skied deep powder, and danced with fast sluffs keeping our egos in check. And we did it in the presence of friends all brought together by the passing of a good friend and mentor.

Doug Workman, after a most pleasing run in Clueland, in thigh deep powder.

Zion Ice

by Chris Thomas

photos by Andy Burr

Ice, in Zion? I was in as much disbelief as you are when Andy approached me with the idea. He had heard some rumors going around of huge, multi pitch ice pillars and smears forming in the slot canyons on the upper east side. Though the idea was sexy, I was filled with skepticism as we started the 5 hour drive from Salt Lake City. The temperature in Springdale was supposed to be in the low 60’s, but I justified it by arguing to myself that I needed to get out of the mid-winter SLC inversion. Shingo and I brought rock gear, just in case.

Amazingly, Andy was right, and we found a multitude of long, very steep ice lines in a truly stunning location. The pictures speak for them selves.

The predawn approach

The slot canyon

One of the many routes. This one is the most obvious and aesthetic line, and has already been climbed by a few other parties. 70 meters of 85-95 degree plastic ice.

This is one of the routes that hasn't been climbed yet. It's about 160 to 170 meters tall and THIN!!! Adirondack style, baby.

And another one

Two weeks later, I was back again with Will Mayo. We had our eyes on one of the unclimbed lines above, but were too late in the season, the top had already melted out. I rapped in anyways, just to have a look at the bottom, and it truly is one of the prettiest pieces of ice I’ve ever seen. The first 80 meters will be dead vertical the entire way, and 1 to at most 2 teeth thick, completely negating any possibility for protection…
It’s certainly climbable though, we’ll be back when the top is in better shape. I know where I’ll be next winter – there have to be HUNDREDS of unclimbed ice routes in the area. Climbing ice in Zion is truly a surreal experience.

Chris

Canadian Rockies Ice

Recently finished up a few weeks in the Canadian Rockies. Spent the first 10 days guiding classic lines like Guinness Stout, Louise Falls, Murchison Falls, and the GBU. It was great, except for the extreme cold snap we happened to time perfectly. There were many mornings at -25F, perfect for the Stratus Hybrid Jacket.

After that my Buddy Kevin came up and met me, once they let him in the country. We had hoped to get on some bigger alpine lines, but conditions were not cooperating so we settled for more classic waterfall ice and mixed routes.

We started with Opal Creek. Whiteman Falls WI5+ and Red Man Soars M6 WI5 served as good warm-ups.

After that we spent a day tooling around Haffner Creek, and then climbed the classic, but often hazardous Bourgeau Left WI5 above the Sunshine Ski Area.

Kevin needed to see the Ghost, so we went in to do the superb route the Sorcerer WI5+. We had heard the 3rd pitch wasn't in, but we found a way up a short hanging dagger that was pretty fun. Kevin did a fine job with the funky and steep last pitch, which definiely earned the + rating.

We climbed up on the sun-baked Weeping Pillar (WI6-) next, and it was ok. Much easier than usual. Then climbed the excellent Curtain Call (WI6-).
All in all it was an excellent trip, I guess I'll have to go back next year to do some alpine climbs. I'm psyched to be back with the fam in Ouray, and go climb in the desert! I've got a full plate of technical Alaska Range guiding coming up soon, so I'm trying to get as much fun in the sun as I can.
Cheers, Clint

Iditarod 2009 - We made it!

The dogs and I are home from Iditarod, and I’m still trying to put everything in perspective. We travelled over 1,000 miles in 12 days, across the most impressive terrain that Alaska can offer, and encountered just about every kind of winter weather imaginable. I’m trying to pick out a couple of highlights because the entire trip could fill a book.

The dogs were truly incredible, wonderful, and beautiful. I will never understand why they have such a joy and passion for running mile after mile, but they do and I am glad to go with them as a partner. Overall, we had a blast. It is not supposed to be easy or fun, but I have to say it was for us. Not to say there weren’t challenges…This was supposed to be the toughest year in decades. Maybe I'm crazier than the average musher (that's saying a lot!) but I still had a great time even in the teeth of the storm. So, highlights;

Most fun: Running down through Rainy Pass and Dalzell Gorge. It was kind of scary because this is supposed to be a sled-eating nightmare and I was running in the dark with a little cloud-covered moonlight to spook things up. But the trail was beautiful and the dogs were nuts – just cranking along. Whenever the dogs were happy, I was having fun. We ripped through this section and roared into Rohn checkpoint where some of the other mushers started calling the dogs my “freight train”.

Toughest: The weather this year was pretty extreme, and I got caught on the Yukon River when the big storm came up. 130 miles with no discernable trail, deep drifts, a ground blizzard that kept visibility minimal, and a head wind that was blowing dogs around. Did I mention it was pretty cold, too? You were fine as long as you kept moving, but you did not want to shut down out on the river where there was no protection from the wind. Some teams that quit in this weather were in a pretty dire situation and at least one had to be rescued. I was pretty worried, but my leaders are just spectacular and not one of the dogs ever looked like they would quit. We came through in great shape, which actually makes this also one of the best parts of the race.

Most beautiful: Gliding down off Little McKinley mile after mile with swooping flights of ptarmigan flitting across the trail in front of us. The hills and bushes were all white, the birds were white, the lighted sky was pale blue/white. The birds looked like white penguins swimming through the sky. Very surreal.

Team on the trail:

Lowest moment: Crossing the frozen sea ice between Shaktoolik and Koyuk. The dogs were not very excited about trudging hour after hour across a frozen white plain with no landmarks and not even a real horizon. All I could think was that we were going so slow we would get to Nome after the banquet and no one would be there - I was really upset to think I would miss the party. That doesn't count as much of a 'bad moment'!

Best hallucination: OK, when your physical exertion is at a peak for over 12 days and you are getting 2-3 hours of sleep per day, plus severe weather, limited hydration and often poor nutrition, hallucinations are pretty common. I really only had one vision, and it was less than a second, but it made an impression. I was dozing (yes I can sleep on my feet, and even drive the sled through tight trees pretty well while only semi-conscious). I blinked my eyes open and instead of seeing 12 dogs, there were 12 aliens with glowing eyes and open mouths all staring at me. I woke up pretty fast. Funny how the reflective tape on the dogs insulated jackets looked just like scary, creepy eyes. Not so funny at the time, though. I just about had a coronary.

We finished in 40th place, not bad for a rookie. Maybe the best part of the entire race was that so many of the world’s best mushers were impressed with my dogs and assured me that we could be competitive. These guys sought me out to tell me I had a real team, and they don’t BS when it comes to dogs. So now we are trying to wrap our heads around racing next year. For my next miracle I need to raise $30,000 and find the time and energy to train again while working full time.

Tired musher after the race: