The team around the BD athletes Nalle Huakkataival and Fred Nicole met every morning at the parking areas of the most popular areas in Fontainebleau (Isatis, Cul de Chien, and Valle de la Mee). Talks and flipcharts were used to draw the attention of visitors and climbers to a responsible behaviour, such as: clean climbing shoes thoroughly (sandy climbing shoes polish the rock), use magnesium sparingly and leave no tick marks, stay on the designated trails (risk of erosion), leave behind no rubbish (in particular no toilet paper), light no fires.

The boulderers then set off with compostable plastic sacks and collected rubbish. After the boulder and cleanup session the bags of rubbish were disposed of in the Black Diamond bus and all the participants received a small surprise. The cleanup day ended in a relaxed mood with live music from Nico Favresse, fresh beer and animated exchanges of information about the most recent boulder routes. On Easter Monday, the Black Diamond group itself went out and cleaned up the popular "Elephant" climbing area of rubbish.

Chasin' the Rubbish 2.0 in Fontainebleau, France from Black Diamond Equipment on Vimeo.

Over the four days, a total of more than 250 kg of rubbish was collected. This rubbish was then handed over to the regional forestry office to be disposed of. The local forestry officers were full of praise for the cleanup operation and thanked all the participating climbers on behalf of the forest.

Black Diamond also warmly thanked all the hard-working boulderers! Through this cleanup operation Black Diamond wants to ensure that it will still be possible to visit this unique climbing area in the future as well.

Black Diamond and our founder/CEO Peter Metcalf have a long history of advocating not only for conservation of natural spaces and resources, but also for outdoor companies to band together in these efforts to achieve a greater good. It's no surprise then that The Conservation Alliance is a group we support. We caught up with Serena Bishop Gordon, a Conservation Alliance program associate, to find out more about the organization and its roots.

The Alliance was founded in 1989 by industry leaders REI, Patagonia, The North Face and Kelty. They shared the goal of increasing outdoor industry support for conservation efforts. We now have more than 185 member companies, and plan to disperse $1.5 million in 2013.

Since its inception in 1989, the Alliance has contributed close to $12 million to grassroots conservation groups throughout North America. The results of our funding have been remarkable. Alliance funding has helped save more than 42 million acres of wildlands, protected 2,748 miles of rivers, stopped or removed 25 dams, designated five marine reserves and purchased nine climbing areas. We follow a rigorous grant proposal review process that ensures our grants go to organizations that can succeed given the necessary financial resources.

Our mission to engage businesses to fund and partner with organizations to protect wild places for habitat and recreation values has been constant and laser-focused since the beginning. Over the years, we have worked to expand our membership-now including more than 185 outdoor industry companies-and increase our advocacy efforts on behalf of the campaigns that we fund.

We are constantly working to build our membership, in order to increase our grant fund. Membership dues are 100 percent pass through: additional membership equates to additional funding. By 2014, our goal is to grant at least $2 million annually to organizations working to protect wild places in North America.

In 2013 we have already notched four important sucesses:

Black Diamond has been a Conservation Alliance member since 2005, contributing annual membership to The Conservation Alliance grant fund and helping to support the efforts of our grantees through sign-on letters, trips to Washington, D.C., and speaking up and acting as model for conservation within the Outdoor Industry. Black Diamond also hosts fundraising events at the Outdoor Retailer Tradeshow and has been instrumental to the success of the Backyard Collective Project Events hosted in Salt Lake City.

The support The Conservation Alliance receives from Black Diamond is invaluable; and it isn't just the check that is sent our way each year. Black Diamond walks the talk, they stand up for what they believe in, and they stand strong on their position even when it is the hard thing to do. Black Diamond has stood up against the development and sale of public lands in Utah and continues to do so; because it is good for outdoor enthusiasts, it is good for the environment, and it is good for business.

For more information on the Conservation Alliance or to see their list of grantees, click here.

I have had many significant changes in my life recently. The end of school turned my life and climbing into completely different perspective. Loads of time, total freedom to travel wherever I want is something I had been dreaming about for years. Finally I have the time to travel abroad along with a drill and create something inspiring enough to put a massive effort into. To find the first proof of this change, instead of heading south as always when we go climbing, we headed north instead. Change is life.
Norway. This country had always been a bit mysterious when I was reading about it. I knew I would visit the country one day even though I didn't even know about the possibility of sport climbing or bouldering up there. When the photos of Flatanger struck my eyes two years ago, it was decided. Summer 2012. The enormous cave of Flatanger definitely didn't let me down despite high expectation when I first saw it. I could stare forever into endless sea of brown and orange granitic gneiss, trying to find some line to bolt. I felt like a kid having a sand playground in front of him, tempted to create something as kids like building castles out of sand. My eyes were lost in this playground, confusingly scanning the features of the rock again and again, trying to find the perfect line. I climbed a couple of days on established routes and then finally made the decision of bolting.

After two days of bolting, the route was ready to climb. I couldn't wait to check out the moves, to find out whether the holds, which seemed good enough while hanging in the rope, are good enough in reality. Though I was sure that it was incredibly hard, it seemed climbable. Absolutely ridiculous bouldery sequence at the beginning, athletic middle and pumpfest to the top, it included all my requests for the great project. A true testpiece of various climbing abilities. It was like my baby, I was looking forward to every single try. With this attitude, I made pretty fast progress. After 5 days of working the route, I managed to climb the first pitch (20m) up to the no-hands rest. It was an incredible fight, I couldn't climb more on my limit. I was very happy, I felt that the success was close as I managed to recover quite well in the rest and continued a bit. I thought the route couldn't be more than 9b, as the first pitch felt like 9a+ and the rest is so good.

But after many days on it in summer, despite feeling much stronger in the lower boulder problem, I didn't manage to climb through the first pitch any more. A good attitude to project and the joy of trying, turned into a different story. Pressure, nervousness, loss of self-confidence. After three weeks of trying, I had to give up, admitting that I lost my shape and training for the World Championship in Paris was a better thing to do. And a return with full power afterwards.
Well, but not everything goes according to plans. I returned stronger indeed, but it had been raining three weeks before our arrival and the route was seeping. I tried anyway, but climbing at my limit with humid holds, that takes the whole thing beyond my current limits. After the temps improved a bit, I crushed the first pitch easily. I started climbing through the second pitch, but my sore legs from the no-hands rest couldn't squeeze two compression heel-hooks and popped off. Damn! Despite two wet holds above, where I would probably fall anyway, I gained self confidence again. After two humid days and falling again in the first pitch, my self confidence was low again. After failing two times more in the first pitch with improved conditions, my self confidence was close to point zero. It seemed I was out of shape, getting pumped after a couple of moves, the belief and faith despite making all the effort to not lose it, was disappering. I needed some kick, something to raise my self confidence and belief that I could do it. In the end, it was nothing more than horrendous wind behind the windows during the restday. I could see the temps would be awesome the next day.

The wind gave me the hope, but didn't blow the pressure away. I couldn't fall asleep, having the nightmare moves in my mind played again. Morning was just as random as always. Every day had started with hope and ended up with no or mininal success by that time. The wind has almost stopped, clouds were down, I wasn't too sure about good conditions. Paradoxically, that blew the pressure a bit away. Having driven 5 kilometres, having hiked 15 minutes to the cave, I stood underneath again. I could see the conditions had improved. I warmed up and I set off. The pressure was away, until I was up in the crux of the first pitch again. Despite feeling strong as hell, a little mistake almost cost me a unique chance, but I stabbed two fingers into the pocket somehow and continued. A no-hands rest and I am getting through the most difficult part from the psychological point of view - switching into the fighting mode, forget the pressure, forget the doubts, just flow. And flow is exactly what I manage. The higher I climb, the more pumped I get, but without a single mistake.

As I reach a good rest, I can hardly breathe, but it is still about 8b+ to go. This wasn't supposed to be big deal, but it is clear to me that this is not going to be easy. I fight, I can't get the lactid acid away, but hold on. After 26 minutes of fighting, I clip the chains and can't really believe if it is true. A stream of emotions are present, slowly filling my empty mind, tongue is sticking to my gums, I am extremely thirsty.
Even a couple of days after the ascent, it is hard to stop smiling. I have never had such rewarding feeling after having done a climb, probably it is because it was a first ascent. The name of the route symbolizes the changes of my recent life, a step into new level of climbing (after thinking about it, I conviced myself to go for 9b+), changing of various styles in the route itself and definitely the change of the Flatanger climbing area which is a world-class area. I need personal change as well. Move on. Find a new challenge. But definitely it is not the last time in this beautiful country.

-Adam

I remember that Markuz called me a friday afternoon and told me somewhat aroused that Vettisfossen was in condition. I had myself visited the fall before only to find out that it wasn't frozen even in cold temperature.
The thing with this icefall was, because it formed quite seldom in the past and together with the "early" spectacular ascents, that it received a somewhat mythical reputation. I think the first ascent was done by "Hot" Henry Barber and Rob Taylor in 1977 in a quite spectacular manner with sand glued on gloves that were used to lay-back icicles. The second ascent was done by Frans Fisher and Carlos Wagner in 1997, also in a spectacular way since they had to negotiate series of 10m, 45 ̊overhanging mushrooms in very cold and wet conditions.
Later that evening I met up with Markus and Henrik Peel, and left around 7 pm, to drive all night from Stockholm to Øvre Årdal. We arrived at 5:30 am and an hour later we were organized and started to walk the three hour approach through the long canyon of the Vetti river. We became quite excited when we turned the corner to the amphitheater, and saw what we saw. Inside was standing a marble-like hidden treasure in the form of a frozen pillar. Henrik, the photographer, seemed very pleased, and soon found a balcony to the left of the amphitheater. We all had our roles now; I did the leads and Makuz speed seconded every pitch. He is really fast at that.
That year 2006 it exploded with ascents, almost ten years after Frans Fischer and Carlos Wagner's second ascent. Since then it has been in condition many times due to really cold winters, with even more ascents. So the early reputation of the fall is now more down to earth.

-Peter Värvell

Black Diamond, and our CEO Peter Metcalf, have a long history of taking a stand for environmental preservation and conservation. It only makes sense that we would support initiatives to better the environment and living conditions in the beautiful state we call home, Utah. One important group we support is Utah Clean Energy (UCE). We caught up with their communications and program coordinator, Brandy Smith, to find out more about what they've been doing in Utah.

How did UCE come to be?

In 2001, Utah Clean Energy's Executive Director and Founder, Sarah Wright left a 15-year career as an environmental consultant to follow her passion to work towards creating a more sustainable, more livable planet. Shortly thereafter, she founded UCE, a solution-based organization committed to creating a future where Utahns significantly decrease our carbon-based energy consumption through energy efficiency and increased use of renewable energy.

Have the goals or focus of UCE evolved over time?

The overall vision of UCE has remained the same throughout the years. We are committed to creating a future that ensures healthy, thriving communities for all, empowered and sustained by clean energy. The goals we focus on still revolve around obtaining that future.

Has UCE notched any key successes in the recent past?

Yes, UCE has achieved several key successes recently that we are very proud of:

How does Black Diamond support UCE? How important is that support?

Black Diamond is a member of UCE's Sustainers Circle. As a member of the Sustainers Circle, Black Diamond is taking a leading role in preserving our quality of life for future generations through the advancement of clean energy solutions. Through your support, UCE has been able to continue to drive responsible and innovative policies and initiatives that are stopping energy waste and making clean energies like solar and wind more affordable and accessible. Through your financial support and engagement in clean energy issues, UCE and Black Diamond are building a new clean energy future.

For more information on Utah Clean Energy, or to get involved, click here.

14th annual Kandersteg Ice Festival from Black Diamond Equipment on Vimeo.

People always think I'm a "natural" athlete. This is not true. I am just a serial obsessive compulsive about learning sports, and this is the secret to any success I have ever had. When I learned to really climb at age 16 I did endless laps around a huge stone fireplace in my school. By "endless," I mean so many I almost got thrown out of school for being late to class so much. I did the same thing on my dorm in college, and spent more days climbing than I ever did actually at college. I obsess hard about sports until I get sort of good at them, but they don't come easily. When I started paragliding I didn't climb for a year, but I flew almost every single day, even when it was stupid conditions. Blind obsession and religious training will trump raw talent any day.

When I was in college I took the examination to become a lawyer, the LSAT, and did well. I started figuring out which law schools I was going to apply to and prepared myself for a life of heroic courtroom battles and saving the environment. But first I took a semester off to work for a really smart federal district court judge. He was a real inspiration to me, and we spent many hours in his chambers talking law, life, love and of course my love for outdoor sports. He gave me some absolutely incredible opportunities to see the real guts of the criminal justice system, as well as some of the corporate side of things. And then he gave me a great gift. He said, "Will, you're smart enough to be a good lawyer, but you'll never be truly happy as a lawyer. Go outside and do something there." Thank you Judge Hall, you were right.

I have out-lived many of the people I started climbing with. If I ever quit climbing it won't be because I dislike climbing, but because of the carnage I have seen the mountains wreak. I often think of the quote from Camus:

"But whether or not one can live with one's passions, whether or not one can accept their law, which is to burn the heart they simultaneously exalt—that is the whole question."

Climbing is a passion that simultaneously burns and exalts my entire being. The answer to the question of whether or not to climb has always been yes to me, but it is a continual uneasy examination.

I climbed my first major waterfall with my dad when I was 16, the Weeping Wall. I wore big mitts, a construction helmet, a Don Whillans Ball Crusher harness, and a soaked pile fleece, as Gore Tex hadn't been invented yet. On top I remember thinking, "Well, that was nice, but rock climbing is definitely more fun." Thirty years later I'm not so sure about that; I love both, but there is just something so viscerally satisfying about sinking a tool into solid ice high on a blue streak into the sky. But I sure do go through a lot of chalk. I often wonder what that 16-year old boy would think of me if he saw me today; I'd tell that boy to at least bring more gloves on his next climb, and to get a real helmet.

The most important thing in life for me is is to see life as it is. Whether I'm in a relationship, climbing, skiing, building a set of stairs, working on a video, anything, that's the goal for me. To strip away all my own filters and those I have been taught and to try and see things as they truly are. To be an attentive, caring, and switched-on human being. In the mountains I often feel like I operate close to this ideal; I never come close to it in the city, it's just too energy sapping and mentally spinning. Time outside slows me down, filters my blood of aspirations and junk, and leaves me less cluttered both physically and mentally. The mountains don't respect nonsensical prayer or cherished rosy beliefs, they just are. To see them cleanly and clearly is as close to the divine as I'll ever get.

Compared to Europe's long and storied history, North America is still relatively in its infancy with regards to alpinism and climbing. Where professional associations of mountain guides in places like Switzerland, Austria and Italy have existed for generations, the american equivalent-the American Mountain Guides Association (AMGA)-has existed for little more than three decades. We caught up with the AMGA's outreach and advocacy director, Scott Massey, to find out more about it and how it fits into the larger international group of mountain guide associations.

How did the AMGA come to be?

In 1979, several forward-thinking guides, including Yvon Chouinard and Jim Donini, formed the American Professional Mountain Guides Association in Jackson, Wyoming. They saw the need to unify the guiding profession, and increase the level of professionalism by creating consistent and measurable industry standards. In 1986, the AMGA dropped the "P", established a board of directors, and began to develop their training and certification programs. These programs continue to this day, always striving to set the highest standard in the guiding industry.

Have the goals or focus of the AMGA evolved over time?

The core goal of the AMGA has always been, and will continue to be, providing the highest quality guide training and certification. Over the years, the AMGA has become more inclusive; for example, developing programs aimed at climbing instructors. Given the amount of single-pitch terrain utilized by colleges, outdoor clubs, and many guide services, the Certified Single Pitch Instructor now accounts for over 30 percent of the AMGA's membership. We have also begun a more focused advocacy effort; we are the sole organization representing the interests of credentialed mountain professionals with land managers and our representatives in Washington, D.C.

How is the AMGA connected with the International Federation of Mountain Guides Associations (IFMGA)?

The AMGA is the sole representative in the United States to the IFMGA. The IFMGA consists of 25 member-countries, and is the international standard-setting organization for mountain guiding. The AMGA was granted membership to the IFMGA in 1997, after many years of program development and observation to ensure that courses and assessments met the international standard. In order for an individual guide to achieve IFMGA Mountain Guide status, they must be certified in the rock, alpine, and ski mountaineering disciplines through the AMGA.

What are some of the current goals of the AMGA?

• Continue to offer the highest quality instruction and training
• Advocate for credential-based access with land managers
• Provide a collective voice for the guiding community
• Serve as a resource to mountain professionals

How does Black Diamond support the AMGA? How important is that support?

Black Diamond is a Diamond Partner - one of our most major contributors. Their continued support is invaluable to the continuation of our high-quality programming. They are the official sponsors of the Rock Guide Exam, with a portion of their contributions going to offset the cost to participants. Another portion goes towards a full scholarship for one individual in any upper-level course or exam. They also contribute products for our Annual Meeting silent auction and fundraiser.

To find out more about the AMGA, guiding programs or to hire a guide, click here.

A Short Talk With Kate Evans from Black Diamond Equipment on Vimeo.

That shot brings back many happy and chilly memories. It was from a trip to Antarctica where we were at the Patriot Hills camp over New Years, but I'm not sure if it was 2000 or 2001.

The premise of the trip was to shoot a film for WBGH Boston on a Vinson Massif traverse. I think this idea was originated by Alex Lowe and Conrad Anker, and at first it was going to be a very lengthy, technical North/South traverse. Although Alex died in 1999, the idea of the trip lived on and was put together by Conrad, who invited me along as a Field Guide, along with Dave Hahn.

The trip was a first ascent of the Vinson Massif from the east side via the Dater and Branscomb glaciers. The climb wasn't overly technical and the real difficulty was just in getting to the basecamp, which involved one of the sketchiest glacier landings I'd ever experienced. The day before we had coordinated with the pilot as to where we wanted to land, and when the time came he put it down exactly on the knoll we were talking about, even though it had huge sun cups and sustrugi all over it. The second plane landed about 200 yards away on smooth snow, and 20 minutes later, when our pilot finally started speaking again, we asked him why he landed on the knoll instead of the flat field. "I thought that's where you wanted to be." Given that we had a 20+ mile route ahead of us, a few hundred feet hardly mattered, but I'm glad he stuck the landing and the plane wasn't wrecked.

The main crux of the trip turned out to be the logistics involved with filming. There were eight people on the climb, including Dan Stone (Glaciologist), Conrad Anker (Climber), Jon Krakauer (Historian), John Armstrong (lead camera), Liesl Clark (Producer), Rob Raker (Sound), Dave Hahn and myself. The plan was to dig huge snowpits all along the route to study the snow depths and layers, but as we got higher, the snow was so dense that it was impossible, so they changed tactics with the film and made it more history based rather than science. The end product was called "Trapped in Ice."

Our daily routine was for the film crew to spend a day shooting video while Dave and I shuttled loads up to a new camp, then skied back down. That way we would spend two nights at each camp before moving, and when we did move, we had already hauled a bunch of the gear and got the new camp semi set up before everyone arrived. This photo was taken on one of the days when we were moving up the Dater Glacier. Dave and I had gotten off to an early start to get the new camp set up while the camera crew was shooting some video and following along behind.  At one point Dave and I stopped on top of a knoll, and I shot this photo looking back at the second group following along behind us.

One of the wild things about Antarctica is that because of the lack of trees or familiar landmarks, the sense of scale is very hard to judge. It's common to underestimate a peak by thousands of feet. This photo illustrates that idea of huge terrain and tiny people.

While skiing on the Antarctic Peninsula has become much more popular since 2001, skiing around on the interior is still fairly rare due to the expense of getting there. The difference between the peninsula and the interior is like the difference between Los Angeles and Bozeman, Montana. On any given day in the winter, they are on the same continent, but are completely different worlds as far as temperature, weather, wildlife (or lack of it) and remoteness.  As far as skiing goes, the peninsula gets more snow and is relatively warmer, which means that it sticks to the slopes a bit better. Between this, the relative ease of boat access and the compact mountainous terrain, the peninsula is much more skiable in a turn-for-turn kind of way. The interior has bigger peaks, but the approaches are huge, the snow is generally windblasted and the weather is much more extreme as far as cold goes. I think it was clear, sunny and minus-40 when we topped out on Vinson.

We used skis for almost all of this route, but didn't take them to the summit as we had so much gear and it was more of a climbing/filming trip than a ski trip. That said, this line would have been very skiable from the summit, as are quite a few lines on Vinson. If you took that exact line and moved it to the Wasatch, it would be trivial, but the real challenge is in being overly cautious as something like a ripped ACL could be life threatening for the entire team.

BD athlete Adam Ondra's Christmas 2011 outtakes and 8B sendage from Fontainebleau, France from Black Diamond Equipment on Vimeo.