Where to start ... after the glorious days in Japan skiing overhead pow, I wasn't sure I would even get a single fulfilling moment the rest of the season. Little did I know what the worst snow season I had ever seen had in store for me. It began with a quick jaunt to Whistler, ski some storms, shoot some photos, enjoy Canada's British Columbia. After a couple weeks of this I got the call to send home to SLC for the Ski Salt Lake shootout. Although I heard most people bailed because of conditions, I was stoked for a chance to ski all my home resorts and shoot with my favorite photographer Mike Schirf. After a crusher week we ended up taking the win for "Urban meets mountain" and third overall portfolio. Thanks to a rad team (Alex Taran and Brody Leven).

The very day that show ended, the Freeskiing World Tour came to Snowbird. Stoked to see the whole crew I signed up. Day one was sunny perfect comp conditions, so I threw down on the home hill, had some magnificent backslaps, ended up in 12th and stoked. Didn't get judged too harshly for my fuck ups. Day two the clouds rolled in and almost became a showstopper. But, a show went down nonetheless. Great skiing by everyone, huge airs and stylie tricks were thrown down and I think everyone worried we might break down the mountain. My run was pretty solid, though ending in a nice crash landing on hardpack traverse. Without time to catch a break I skied home, packed the truck and rolled up to Canada to meet the Sherpas Cinema crew for a catskiing trip in the Selkirk Mountains. I could get used to how those guys roll. Five-star dining and lodging with five-star skiing right out the window. We had a weeklong trip of crushing deep pow, pillows and cliff drops. Extremely satisfying. Still not done burning gas, I headed west, back to my second home in Whistler, a little sledding, a little less skinning and a lot of fun.

Two days later I headed south with part of the Dubsatch crew to Prospecting Idaho, where Smith Optics gives free reign to athletes to sled out to zones and build stupid jumps. Here we met up with the rest of the Dubsatchers and had a fun few days, ending with a banger sunny glorious day, hitting jumps till our skis broke. Better not stop there, so I headed home, picked up my dear sister Angel Collinson who had been crushing the comp scene all year, and together Team Collinson cruised to Kirkwood for the final stop of the FWT. Another crash on day one put me on the spectator stand to watch Angel take second in the event as well as the overall tour (just a few days earlier she placed second overall on the European tour as well). Congrats big sis!!

This event brought me home feeling unfulfilled, but Angel got the thumbs up from TGR to head to Alaska with Sage Cattabriga-Alosa, Seth Morrison and Dana Flahr. I ended up sitting at home, skiing Little Cottonwood and waiting for that unknown perfect end of season trip...

For a full list of the groups we support, click here.

For nearly five decades the Colorado Environmental Coalition (CEC) has championed a wide range of conservation issues all over the state. Today, the CEC performs many important functions including preserving undisturbed wild places, promoting clean energy, protecting and restoring rivers, exploring sustainable land use in urban areas, lobbying state legislature on conservation issues and educating citizens on the importance of their efforts. Of the CEC, Black Diamond's President and CEO Peter Metcalf said, "All of us at Black Diamond Equipment share a deep sense of inspiration and appreciation for what the Colorado Environmental Coalition does on behalf of the state of Colorado and the people of the United States. Their efforts to unite Coloradans to protect their natural heritage and quality of life are critical components to Colorado's outlook for achieving long-term economic success."

Tonight, May 23, Metcalf will be honored at the CEC's Rebel with a Cause Gala 2012. We caught up with CEC Development Director Beka Wilson on the eve of the event to discuss the organization and their choice to honor Metcalf.

The CEC started life in 1965 as the Colorado Open Space Council. The national Wilderness Act was signed into law in 1964 and the COSC grew out of the realization that Colorado would benefit greatly from this new law. In 1984, COSC changed its name to CEC to better reflect the new focuses of the organization.

CEC, and it's predecessor COSC, was originally just about designating wilderness in Colorado. However, over the years, it became obvious that there are other environmental issues prevalent in our state and that we had to remain nimble to meet the new challenges affecting our state's natural heritage. Over the 47 years we have been around, CEC organically morphed from a sole focus to working on pretty much every statewide environmental issue in Colorado, including water quality and conservation, energy (both oil and gas reform and the promotion of renewable energy), policy work at the State Capitol and others. We haven't forgotten our roots, however. Wilderness and public lands protection is still a big part of what we do.

Over the course of our existence as an organization the need to protect our wild lands and places for future generations has always been constant. Over the past ten years the general public's realization of the affects of climate change have led us to prioritize reducing air pollutions and pushing for renewable energy, in addition to the issue areas we have focused on for decades.

We admire and want to share Peter's accomplishments and ambitions with the Colorado conservation community. We consider him a leader when it comes to highlighting the importance of keeping the environment in mind when we're talking about economic stimulus and growth.

One of our main goals is to show how Colorado's natural heritage benefits everyone in our state in a variety of ways. Support from companies like Black Diamond shows that outdoor activity, whatever it might be, creates jobs and provides tourism money for local communities as well as the state.

For more information on the Colorado Environmental Coalition or to make a donation, click here.

It has been a brutally sunny and dry winter in Colorado and the powder itch was nearly blistering. When the opportunity to head to the Northwest presented itself I packed up the Astro Van with no intent of returning home for the rest of the winter.

I met my telemark cohorts Andy Jacobsen and Paul Kimbrough of the Powderwhore films and our plan was to spend 5 days in an out-of-commission fire lookout. After trudging 5 miles or so up a logging road we began climbing the peak to the fire lookout as a storm rolled in. Avalanche conditions were bomber but the mountain was steep on all sides. That night heavy winds and snowfall ripped around our hut and when morning came we were not very motivated to explore the windslabs and exposed terrain in a whiteout, but we ventured out into the blizzard at the crack of noon. We descended the ridge as far as we could before reaching steeper terrain. Probing and ski cuts revealed deep wind slabs in some places so we retreated hoping for better visibility and less volatile conditions the next day. The next morning the storm had calmed but it was still snowing, fuel was running low (we had expected a propane stove in the hut but there was no propane adapter) so we packed up our heavy bags with our tails between our legs. When we got off the steep terrain and out of the wind we were delighted to find a couple feet of blower for our shredding pleasure.

Sun was forecasted for the next day so we lined up another mission. This time our plan was to start early and skin 7 miles up a logging road to ski some cool terrain in an area called "Skyline" divide. After miles of heinous flat trail breaking we began ascending some cool old growth forest. When we finally reached our destination the skies had closed up and we found ourselves in a thick fog. That's called getting shut down... We enjoyed some wooded powder before calling it a day. When we got to the car exhausted we better understood the practicality of snowmobiles.

Next stop: Grand Targhee for the Telemark Freeskiing Competition (no not an oxymoron). After catching first chair at Baker with 20 inches of fresh and a morning of delightful powder we headed to Targhee. The venue was plagued with difficult conditions: warm-wind affected snow, crowns, bed surface, and avalanche debris. After two runs and a tele-roll I sat in third place behind Paul Kimbrough and Mark Robbins. A heavy storm rolled in and the resort was forced to cancel the rest the competition due to poor visibility. It seemed like a good opportunity to catch some freshies on Teton pass so that's what we did, and skied the cold smoke till the sun set. After a few days of Wyoming fluff, we headed back to Baker and yes—it was still snowing.

Late yesterday afternoon we have finally arrived in our real Nuptse base camp! That is always a good moment, when I don't have to be packing and unpacking all the time. When I don't constantly have to pitch and take down tents and so on and so on. Now we have the next few days to really settle in here, at 5300 meters. I allowed myself the luxury to pitch the old The North Face Dome 5 for a sleeping tent and living room. That 'space maker' is worth its weight in gold on those long rest or bad weather days!

Just a few words on the acclimatization days on Lobuche East. First of all: The day, the evening light and the morning at about 6000m up on the so-called 'peak' (which really is just a shoulder) was indescribable! Never have I seen a panorama like that, such a powerful scene. We had a hard time to get out of our filming and photography frenzy! Just look at the pictures below, what more can I say!

Everything worked out well and we are now ready to acclimatize further here on Nuptse or in the Lhotse face. But first, on the 22nd, we'll have that important puja. We won't dare go into the Khumbu Icefall before that. I and the others have been here too often to be disrespectful about that ritual.

We are not alone now here in our base camp. We share the kitchen and the kitchen tent with Rolf Eberhard (Lhotse) and with Richi and another three who want to climb Everest. Something I like so much this time—different than in 2009 when we were here to climb Lhotse—is that we see Nuptse, our peak, really big and powerful from here! You don't see Everest at all from here and of Lhotse only the top part, way in the back above the Khumbu Icefall. So we always have our objective in our view, which is very motivating for me!

I'll check in again when we are back from our second round of acclimatization. Until then I hope that the weather is nice at home and everyone is doing well.

Best regards from Nuptse Base Camp.
David

@matthiasschabel captured this image while spring skiing on Mt. St. Helens. Corn harvesting on Pacific Northwest volcanos is surely a classic spring pursuit and we love the composition, textures and peaceful solitude of this photo. @matthiasschabel wins a $300 Black Diamond gift certificate.

@bryan_collins_ summitted this photo from Vancouver Island in British Columbia, Canada just days after the opening of the wildly scenic and desolate West Coast Trail. He perfectly captured the reasons why finally getting back outside after a long winter is so, so sweet. @bryan_collins_ wins a $100 Black Diamond gift certificate.

RUNNER UP: Instagram user @eddie_raburn

This photo was clearly selected by our voting panel due to the off-the-charts level of stoke. Sure it's kind of cheesy, but the ingenuity and pure awesomeness (you have to admit you want to give it a try) of it made this one a standout in our 20 finalists. Remember to have fun out there folks! @eddie_raburn wins a $100 Black Diamond gift certificate.

Returning to BD’s up-and-coming new ski factory after spending a month skiing in the Alps, it was clear that the team had been hard at work.  A call to arms had been raised within the organization, and in reply a flood of special forces have been putting in hard time working to bring this new project up to speed.  From the backbone manufacturing specialists/ski fanatics; to the mad-scientists in QA; to garage-shop-ski-builders now evolved to designers and project managers; to old time ski manufacturing and composites veterans; right down to the man who wrote the book on climbing hardware design and fabrication equipment; all hands have been on deck working to distill BD’s 50 years of manufacturing prowess in to the framework for this new ski production facility.  And here I was, guiltily dragging back in from another big ski adventure…

So I put my head down and got back to work. 

The project team was given the mission to go big and develop a state-of-the-art production facility—to build skis in the same way we build climbing gear to which you would entrust your life.  So we purchased a battalion of sophisticated machines and equipment, sourced the cleanest raw materials from around the world, and got to work on the layout of our new factory.  When the right machine for a process doesn’t exist, we design and build one on our own.  To preheat the new ski presses, we are harnessing the power of the sun.  In building out our facility, we placed penultimate focus on a fresh and inspiring production space.  With a blank slate we are free to pursue radical production and design strategies, so we have founded our development on the lean flow concepts of the globally successful Japanese systems. 

Inspiring as the project may be, it’s tremendously hard work.  I find it hard to not let my thoughts drift in time.  But I’ve also found there’s a subtle difference between daydreaming about the past and using past experience to inspire…


My recent past experience saw me boarding a train in Chamonix to head south.  I was going down to stay with an old kayaking friend who was ski patrolling at Serre Chevalier and living in a quaint mountain village nearby.  My friends picked me up at the train station, and early the next day we drove over the pass to La Grave.  Yet again surrounded by mountains of staggering proportions.  The funky, mellow pace of La Grave reminded me of my years in Montana, as did the local posses of underground rippers.  We split our time between skiing, flying laps on the speed-wings, and soaking up the unique energy of the place. 

Soon thereafter one of the few storms of my trip rolled through.  We tore up the new snow on the front-country until it was beat.  Then we headed out in search of something steep and untouched.  With huge mountains all around, we had our pick and found our way in to a gem! 

Before I left town, we also took the chance to run up the local via ferrata.  Then I boarded another train, this time bound for Switzerland. 

After a long day of travel, I arrived at the Horner Hotel in Lauterbrunnen, Switzerland late in the evening.  Standing out front was a profound crew from my homeland, who had plans to join up with a group of local athletes the next day.  So my first morning in Switzerland, I found myself speed-riding in the Jungfrau region with the North American Redbull Airforce and a bunch of local talent, including Olympian and Swiss freeski/board legend Ueli Kestenholz.  We ripped laps, en masse, down the steep terrain, and I witnessed how it’s done by some of the best in the world. 

For the next week, most of my riding time was spent solo, sessioning my speedwing at Schilthorn in the morning, then heading across the valley to ski the one remaining stash of dry snow tucked under the North Face of the Eiger (thanks for the beta Ueli.)  Sadly I lost my helmet cam in France, so I have zero action footage from the Jungfrau region where I was immersed in the steepest part of the learning curve for this trip. 

As my time ran low, the weather grew hot and it was clearly time to go.  I took a train to Zurich for a quick stay with Los Alamos friends so that I could look in to future opportunities at the ETH University.  Then I flashed through Chamonix to grab some gear that I left behind, and finally boarded a plane in Geneva.

As I said, there’s a subtle difference between daydreaming and using past experiences to inspire.  Back in the present moment, we just boxed up the first two pair of AMPerage 195’s ever pressed in Black Diamond’s new factory and sent them out the door.  In two days time, they’ll be on the feet of BD’s athletes and skiers so that the feedback cycle can begin anew.

Over the last several years, I’ve been away for the bouldering season that stretches from November to the end of March, but this year, with the exception of a few weeks in Hueco through December, I hunkered down in Colorado for a full helping of winter. It was a touch dry this year as winters go, which gave some space for some climbing around home in a mix of conditions. We had shovelling days and exploring days, hiking uphill through waist-deep powder, watching the storms blow down the canyon like a swarm of golden bees in the patchy sunlight. We burrowed into half-bags to resuscitate wooden feet, and pulled our hoods tight as the winds blasted stinging spindrift. We warmed up on highballs in the full sun on calmer, t-shirt days.

It was my first winter in the Boulder area, though I’ve lived here seven years now.

One gets a full package experience when one heads out for a snow day: the calories burn faster and it’s more work to stay hydrated. Gear becomes a mountainous concern with shell pants, jacket, gloves, hats, gaiters, thermals, hoodies, long sleeves, thick and extra socks, sunglasses, sunscreen, trekking poles, shovels, stick brushes, push brooms, whisk brooms, a quiver of brushes, tarps, extra climbing shoes (including a pair slightly bigger than the norm, so’s to wear some socks on the really cold days?), boots, a thermos full of coffee or tea, foods full of fat and spices to keep the blood flowing and the calories up, snow shovels, snow shoes or skis, snow shovels, and snow shovels.

There are a lot of good sides to climbing through all the extra work: once clean of the white stuff, even the most miserable holds grab back. Highballs are tamed with a six foot landing zone that cushions your cratering falls all the more, and the typically horrific talus landings found across Colorado are graded out in a homogenized slope of welcoming white. Landscapes are changed to a sometimes-otherworldly space of low contrast, and the passages of wildlife are plain as posted trail. The quiet is complete, each pine needle a note on the wind.

Spring is fine and welcome here, but it won’t be long before I’m driving high and diving in to snow and cold again. The slow snow year has left bare streaks on the mountain sides, and alpine season is getting up early it seems...

Utah Governor Gary Herbert is pushing a lawsuit against the federal government that seeks to give Utah counties control over 25,000 miles of so-called roads that traverse most of Utah's Wilderness-quality federal land. According to Conservation Alliance grantee Southern Utah Wilderness Alliance:

"The vast majority of these routes have never been established or maintained, and they don't really exist on the ground. They are but cow paths, old seismic lines, dry stream beds and one-man joyride trails. This is not really about transportation at all. Utah is simply using an old mining law, Revised Stature 2477, as an excuse to undermine future wild lands conservation and to open these special places to development, extractive industry and off-road vehicle assault. If they succeed, such lawsuits will spring up throughout the West, and our last wild public lands will be lost forever."

Following is a map showing the extent to which these "roads" (in red) would intrude on Utah's wild public lands. 


Take Action!
Ask Interior Secretary Salazar to defend Utah's public lands today! Click here to send a message to Interior Secretary Ken Salazar, asking that he vigorously fight the State of Utah's lawsuit.

This lawsuit is one of a growing list of efforts and proposals that elected officials are making to undermine protections for public lands in Utah. In March, Governor Herbert signed into law a bill that authorizes the state to do everything within its power to transfer title of federal lands in Utah to the state.

Also in March, the BLM authorized nearly 1,300 new natural gas wells in Utah’s Desolation Canyon wilderness and other remote areas. In approving the so-called Gasco development project, the Department of the Interior rejected calls by the Environmental Protection Agency and tens of thousands of citizens from across the country to approve an alternative to Gasco’s proposal. This alternative would have allowed for significant development while protecting the department’s plan to designate Desolation Canyon as wilderness and reducing the overall footprint and impact of the project.

It is disappointing to watch Utah—which benefits economically from outdoor tourism and from the outdoor industry's twice-yearly trade show in Salt Lake City—work so hard to diminish the wild and natural places in the state.

The Vector is designed for climbers who prioritize weight. Long trips, alpine routes. Many climbers who don't wear helmets very often tell us that helmets are too heavy or too hot and uncomfortable. We designed the Vector to address those concerns.

The Vector is a lighter, better fitting more breathable helmet than the Tracer without giving up any of the protection. One big difference is that the Vector is less bulky than the Tracer. It allows climbers to work in tighter spaces and conforms better to the shape of the head.

We were able to make many different prototype helmets early in the design process that helped us make multiple adjustments  and refinements to the shape and fit of the Vector. People's head shapes and sizes have a lot of variability and its important to make sure that you address those needs. We spent a lot of time in the sample room here sewing and testing the design of the suspension system to make it comfortable, testing webbing that was lighter and that felt nice next to your face and ears.

The shell of the helmet is made up of two materials. The protective outer material is a thin layer of polycarbonate and the inner layer is an energy absorbing foam called EPS. The polycarbonate layer helps protect against scratches and dents. It provides some of the overall strength of the helmet and it helps to distribute any  impact loads on the foam. We spent a lot of time tweaking and tuning the density of the EPS foam and the thickness of the polycarbonate to make sure that it would handle the impacts required for safety, be as light as possible and still be durable.

The Vector has some extra large vent openings that help increase airflow to keep your head cool. The internal fit system eliminates pressure points and increases comfort by extending the anchor points to the foam further forward. We used extra thin velcro to attach the internal comfort pad and recessed it into the EPS to make sure that you wouldn't feel any pressure points or irritating lumps.

We really wanted to make a helmet that more climbers would want to use. Some of our competitors make "one size fits all" helmets that don't work well with the shapes of your head and don't compliment the features of the face. The vector comes in different sizes and allows for a much better fit that looks great when people wear it and eliminates many of the reasons people often give for not wearing a helmet.

Climbers spend a lot of time looking up. You want to reduce the bulk of the helmet to give them as much visibility and mobility as you can without sacrificing protection and safety. We spent a lot of time making sure that the front of the helmet lets you see your partner while still protecting your forehead, and that the back of the helmet would let you look up without getting caught on your pack or irritating your neck.  We reduced the thickness and width on the sides of the helmet while making sure that we left enough room for sunglasses and eye protection.

Over the years, while living in Pennsylvania, my wife and I spent nearly every vacation traveling throughout North America to climb at some of the premier climbing destinations. Some of our favorites have been Squamish, Yosemite (on our honeymoon), Joshua Tree, Indian Creek, The Red River Gorge, Penitente Canyon, Rumney, and Red Rocks. But after all of these vacations, we found ourselves being super psyched to get back to the New River Gorge. Now after relocating to Utah, and living in a place that we have vacationed to for years, we still keep saying that we can't wait to take a trip back to the New.

I'm not sure that there is one particular thing that makes the New stand out over the other places that I've been, it's the whole package that makes this place unique. To start, the bullet-hard Nuttall sandstone is some of the best rock to climb anywhere.   It's easy on the hands while at the same time having great friction, the gear is bomber, and the many water-formed features breed strikingly colorful and eye-catching lines. Also, it's not predominantly a sport area, or a trad area, both are plentiful and each are top-notch, so you don't get as much of the Trad vs. Sport mentality there. Also, nearly every crag has excellent surroundings that you are just happy to be a part of. When climbing at the New proper, you always have amazing vistas of the roaring rapids of the New River 800 feet below you. At Summersville Lake, the cliffs are at water level so you can swim in between burns during the summer time.  When climbing at the Meadow River it always feels like you are in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by lush Appalachian forest with more of a wilderness feel. We've seen plenty of bear, grouse, and deer while climbing there, plus getting your car into some of these crags can be an adventure in itself.  I guess another factor that makes this place special is the people. There's a pretty tight-knit community of climbers there, some local, but most live hours away and are dedicated to making the drive every weekend. For this reason, everyone is psyched to be there, because they truly want to be. Also, the non-climbing locals are some of the nicest folks you'll ever meet. West Virginia sometimes gets a bad rap on this front, but by and large, the people here are simple folk, who are always happy to chat and share with you the special place that they call home.

Now for my favorite climbs, boy that's a tough one! I've climbed 447 of the routes at in the New River Gorge/Meadow River/Summersville Lake area (I'm an engineer so I keep track of these things!). Of these routes, both trad and sport, there's a few that really stand out.

Apollo Reed (5.13a) - Damn this thing is good!   My first 13a and still one of my favorite climbs. It's got everything-it's steep, it has kneebars, a dyno, hand jams, fingerlocks, a potential bat hang, and the crux above the mail slot is just plain sweet.

Chunky Monkey (5.12b) - Another amazing piece of rock on bullet hard Nuttall sandstone. This thing is pretty darn hard on your first go, but once you learn a few things, it becomes possible. It starts out thin and techy, to a welcome shake. After you bust out a pretty big dyno and think you're done, it throws you this brain-like face that keeps on you to the finish.

Jesus and Tequila (5.12b) - A nice long line at the Endless Wall (or Sendless as some say). My wife Dana and I always use this a benchmark 12b, but it sure seems to make other 12b's seem easy!

Mutiny (5.11d) - What a cool line! Only accessible during low water periods at Summerville Lake. For the most part it's just reachy jugs on an overhanging arête above a dry lake bed. Every time I've done this route, it feels like it's in the bag until I reach the last bolt, where it sure gives it to you with a techy crux to reach the anchors.

Titan's Dice (5.13a (my ass!)) - Still haven't sent this one, There can't be too many lines like this in the world. I like it as it draws upon my trad skills from my early climbing years. This thing is like a wrestling match with the rock! Here's the blow by blow: Climb up into a hand crack, knee bar, knee bar, knee bar with some hand jams.   Try not to blow it too bad because there's ground fall potential until you're at the 4th bolt. I prefer the belay from Weston (AKA The DMF -Dense Mo-Fo). Then you get into this dihedral thing, somewhere in the sequence you'll bust out a one-arm push up. Then as you traverse into an overhang, you'll have to dyno. It's not quite done yet, there's still a techy finger crack thing that will get you to the anchors. Man, I need to get back there and send this thing!

Agent Orange (5.11d) - This thing is freaking sweet! Amazingly vibrant orange stone that follows an overhanging hand crack. As the hand crack ends, you plug some gear and bust out left to get onto a pedestal (crux). Shake, place some gear and do some sporty moves past an off-fingers crack to some jugs at the finish. I was so psyched on this climb that I even drew a diagram of it in my guidebook after returning home one weekend! As it turns out, my beta diagram was crap since I didn't use any of it when I finally got the send.

Leave it to Jesus (5.11c) - When I first saw this route on the cover of Climbing Magazine many years ago, I just knew that I had to climb it, but at that point it was way out of my league. Over the years as I improved as a trad climber, I kept saving this one, always walking by it and looking at it...someday! Finally in the fall of 2008, I felt I was in good enough shape to give it a go in good style. It sure was worth the wait! Sending this one I felt to be one of my most memorable single pitch trad lines.    What's not to love about an 80-foot finger crack system that you can protect entirely with Stoppers!

Welcome to Beauty (5.11b) - This is a nice 120-foot crack system  at Beauty Mountain. I was totally inspired by the line as I walked past looking for something cool to get on. I was so psyched, that I didn't consult the guidebook to see exactly what climb it was. I thought it was a 5.10a. While climbing it, I kept telling myself, come on Jeremy, this is only 10a, this shouldn't be this hard. I kept pushing until I got to the top and set a belay. As I belayed my life long buddy up the pitch, I kept feeling mixed emotions, I felt good that I pushed through, but thought I was having a bad day or something because it felt pretty hard. After rapping back down to our packs, I looked in the guidebook and was blown away that I had just completed my first 5.11b trad line!

I could keep going for days giving stories and descriptions of cool routes at the New. Aside from the excellent climbing, there is just a lot of adventure to be had, which is unique for a place that primarily has single pitch cragging-type routes. It took me years to appreciate what a unique climbing destination this truly is, and now that I live in Utah I can't wait to get back!

-Jeremy

From:     Sam Elias
Subject:     RE: Everest
Date:     April 25, 2012 7:22:46 AM MDT

I have been at Everest basecamp for just over 3 weeks. I am here as part of a large, multi faceted expedition that includes history, science, art, and sport. Conrad Anker originally conceived of this expedition in association with The North Face and National Geographic to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the 1st American ascent of Mt Everest. It was built out from there to include Montana State University to conduct cutting edge geologic research on the mountain, as well as to develop an 8-lesson curriculum for grade school classrooms to learn about the Everest region and it’s relation to the Northern Rocky Mountains by following the expedition in real time. The Mayo Clinic is also involved to try to learn more about the physiology of humans at high altitude by monitoring our team with various tests and devices in order to help patients with heart conditions and other ailments.

Once everything was arranged and I was committed, I was approached by conceptual artist, Fabian Knecht who had an idea to connect the lowest and highest points on earth. His inquiry was if I would be willing to try to carry a small bottle of Dead Sea water to the summit, pour it out there, and refill it with snow, which he would return to the Dead Sea. I agreed.

Well, all the wheels are in motion now, and we have been up as high as Camp 2 on the mountain at about 6400 meters. Tomorrow morning at 4am, we are heading out for our 2nd rotation up high to acclimatize, which will include sleeping a night at Camp 3 at about 7000m, and hopefully touching Camp 4 at the South Col (~7900m) before returning to base camp to rest and wait for a summit window.

On behalf of our group and of this entire expedition, I’d like to offer the greatest appreciation to BD for donating such a SUBSTANTIAL amount of gear. With it, we are safe and will hopefully be successful.

Wish us luck,
Sam

If you've ever had the chance to walk through the offices and corridors at our headquarters in Salt Lake City, it's apparent that Black Diamond is a dog-friendly workplace. As long as they are well behaved, on any given day there's approximately 20 of man's best friend hanging out under desks and in cubicles around the office. We at Black Diamond Equipment have long appreciated the companionship, joy, and humor that dogs, and all kinds of pets, bring to our daily lives. Lending support to No More Homeless Pets in Utah (NMHPU) was a logical way for us to give back, since lots of furry friends in the communities surrounding Black Diamond Equipment are not nearly as fortunate as the dogs who get to come in to our office every weekday.

NMHPU works in a collaborative partnership with Utah agencies and shelters. Their mission statement is as follows: "To end the euthanasia of homeless dogs and cats statewide and to promote humane alternatives for feral cats." Founded in 2000, NMHPU has worked over the last 12 years, alongside other agencies in Utah, to reduce shelter euthanasia by over 35 percent and increase adoption of homeless pets by over 38 percent. In 2011, they performed over 39,000 spay/neuter surgeries in an effort to further decrease euthanasia numbers in the future.

NMHPU's goals for 2012 include continued focus increasing the number of spay/neuter surgeries across the state, including providing 6,000 of these procedures for free to low-income residents. In addition, they hope spay/neuter 5,500 feral cats in a catch and release program.

If you are interested in making a donation to help NMHPU, click here.

If you are interested in volunteering to help NMHPU, click here.

About the Copp-Dash Inspire Award: 
Sponsored by Black Diamond Equipment, La Sportiva, Mountain Hardwear and Patagonia, the Copp-Dash Inspire Award will help support small teams tackling difficult climbs in the great mountains of the world who plan to personally document and share their ascents through a multimedia blend of storytelling elements. Proposed trips or climbs should be focused on unclimbed objectives in distant ranges and regions, requiring a high level of skill and commitment and climbed in a fast, light and clean style that stays true to the progression of expedition climbing. Proposed documentation styles can include any mix of photos, video or writing that will vividly capture the essence and adventure of the trip or climb. Proposed sharing of these storytelling elements could aspire to involve slideshows, viral film clips, magazine articles, multimedia presentations, etc. The Copp-Dash Inspire Award is supported with in-kind support from Adventure Film Festival, Alpinist Magazine, American Alpine Club, Sender Films, and the Jonny Copp Foundation.

I spent my Easter in Fontainebleau, helping out with a Black Diamond organized event called Chasin' The Rubbish. Fontainebleau is one of the biggest and best-known bouldering areas in the world and Easter is the busiest time of year there. Climbers from all over the world come to visit the forest and it can get very crowded at the boulders. One day we counted over 500 cars in the Trois Pignons parking lot alone. That's thousands of people in just one of the areas. With crowds like this, the impact on the climbing areas is big.

One of the biggest issues in Fontainebleau seems to be trash and so that was the main focus of the event. We wanted to get three messages across to people visiting the areas:

- Don't leave ANY trash in the forest, and if you see thrash on the ground pick it up 
- Clean your shoes before climbing, because dirty shoes severely polishes the footholds
- Brush off tick marks and chalk, so holds won't get polished

For most climbers these things are, and should be, obvious but it's good to remind people (for example, not everyone was aware that climbing with dirty shoes is bad for the rock). The purpose of this event was not so much to directly go clean up climbing areas, but more so to educate people to do their own part in keeping the forest clean. However, with the help of a lot of people we managed to remove about 250 kilos of trash from the climbing areas over three days!! Bas Cuvier, especially, was looking cleaner than I've ever seen it!

Luckily there haven't been any area closures in Fontainebleau yet, but the traffic can be seen on polished holds and worn through footholds everywhere. We can all do our part to keep the areas open and in good condition also in the future. It's important to remember that YOUR impact on the areas is just as big as anyone else. Happy climbing to everyone!“

— Nalle

Here at Black Diamond we have been really enjoying Instagram as a way to take and share photos with our friends, and we can now be found on it at @blackdiamondequipment. If you know about Instagram, we don't have to tell you how rad it is; and if you don't know, well, it's basiclally an awesome way to share photos from your mobile phone with friends and build a sense of community. You guys, our fans, are our community, and we want to see the images from your spring inspirations and adventures: shredding corn, bagging peaks, climbing at your favorite crags, or whatever springtime means to you.

Here's the deal: Take a great spring action or lifestyle shot between Monday, April 23 and Monday, May 14, 2012, share it with us on Instagram (tag it with #blackdiamondspring AND @blackdiamondequipment) and you could win a $300 or $100 Black Diamond gift certificate or one of many daily poster prizes.

How it works: Upload sweet spring photos to your Instagram feed, make sure they are public, and mark them with #blackdiamondspring AND @blackdiamondequipment. Each day we will select a daily winner who will recieve a fresh BD poster. At the end of the contest, an internal panel at Black Diamond will gather and filter through all of the photos hash tagged with #blackdiamondspring AND @blackdiamondequipment and decide the winners based on both technical and thematic execution (as well as general awesomeness). You can enter as many photos as you want, but they MUST be taken with an iPhone or Android device (i.e., no DSLR or regular camera shots), MUST be taken within the time frame of the contest, and MUST be public and marked with #blackdiamondspring and @blackdiamondequipment on Instagram.

Prizes:

-First Prize: $300 Gift Certificate for Black Diamond Equipment.**

-Runners Up (2): $100 Gift Certificate for Black Diamond Equipment.**

-Daily winners: Black Diamond poster (climbing or skiing, winner's choice)

**Gift certificate value must be spent in one order. Any balance will not carry over.

The Fine Print: No purchase necessary. No automated entries. Enter as many photos as you like. This contest is open only to legal U.S. or Canada residents who are 16 years of age or older, possess a valid ID proving age, and personal Internet email address. To receive the prize(s), the potential winner must reside in one of the fifty (50) United States or Canada. The winner may make no substitution or transfer of the prize(s). The prize(s) may not be redeemed for cash or anything else of value. Noncompliance with any of the Official Rules and Regulations will result in disqualification. Black Diamond Equipment, Ltd. is not responsible for any typographical error in the printing of the offer, administration of the contest or in the announcement of the prizes. Black Diamond Equipment, Ltd. reserves the right to modify these Official Rules and Regulations at any time and without notice. Any modification to these Offical Rules and Regulations will take effect immediately upon posting in the Sweepstakes area of our website: BlackDiamondEquipment.com.

I know! We were really going to go to the West Buttress of Makalu. How come I'm writing something about Nuptse now?

Here is how that change happened:

Michi, who was tasked with leading the hard bouldering moves at 8000 m on the West Buttress, took his training as serious as could be. Unfortunately he had been training so hard that he tore his biceps tendon three weeks before departure. And because that left us minus a veritable rope gun, we canceled the West Buttress for now. But I was so motivated and had made firm plans to go to Nepal again in the Spring that I started looking around who else might be going there ...

And it did not take long to find an alternative that was no worse than the original plan. Gerlinde and Ralf generously accepted me into their Nuptse team! And voila, here I am, back in Kathmandu, back with those two with whom I had been on a number of other expeditions. That makes me all the happier to be on a mountain with them again, after two years.

I know that our team is great. It works and we can trust each other blindly after all this time. That makes me look forward to the coming adventure even more!

And of course because Nuptse is a mountain that leaves nothing to be desired! It's rarely climbed and most impressive. On top of that we want to try a first ascent from the North via the East ridge. Our plan for the first upcoming weeks looks like this: since I still had the 'old' Makalu flight booked, I arrived a few days before the two in Kathmandu, and could sort my gear and make the last acquisitions here. Now I'm enjoying Kathmandu, met my Japanese friend Hiro and visited with Sabin's and Purna's families (pilot and copilot of the stricken Ama Dablam helicopter).

Ralf and Gerlinde arrived yesterday and tomorrow we'll be heading on toward Lukla and Namche Bazaar, as so may times before. Sure I'm getting to know this place really well, but that has the advantage too that I get to meet a lot of people again, visit with old acquaintances and just like this corner of the planet a whole lot.

Talk to you soon.
Namaste!
David

We set out to combine the unparalleled comfort or our Active Suspension systems with a host of ideal details for full-featured backpacking. We knew that comfort is one of the biggest concerns for backpackers and that we could use our ergoACTIV XP suspension to dramatically outperform anything else on the market. To that platform, we designed a packbody that truly defined modern features: taped seams in water sensitive areas, huge waterproof zippered access, and ideal internal organization.

We designed these initially for multi-day backpacking (ideally 3-5 days) and they are excellent for this, but additionally these make excellent travel backpacks as well.

These packs are definitely our most full-featured. Most of our packs take a distinctively minimalist approach, but the Mercury and Onyx celebrate the idea that comfort and ease of use is critical when you spend multiple days carrying and living out of them.

1. Constantly balanced loads: By allowing the pack to match your body, the loads being applied directly to your hips and shoulders stay equalized from side to side. This is in direct contrast to typical "static" packs that force your body to lift the entire pack weight asymmetrically with each step. Whereas the pack's weight can be exactly the same, packs with static suspensions feel heavier because of the peak loads applied every time you move. This means no more bruised hips, happier shoulders, and no more need to constantly adjustments straps to change the feel.

2. Reduced friction/hotspots: By moving with your body instead of fighting it, active suspensions dramatically reduce the amount of friction between your body and the pack. No more chaffing on your neck line and no more raw spots on your hips.

3. Natural body mechanics (the biggest synergistic benefit): By allowing your body to move and carry weight naturally, you engage all of the big muscle groups that static suspensions eliminate. Specifically, by engaging your core (including your hips), you distribute the amount of work your body is doing, reducing the amount that is forced onto just your legs. At the end of the day you just feel better (less fatigued), especially your knees, shoulders- which are way overloaded by static suspensions.

The biggest challenge (and accomplishment) was designing the hipbelt and its attachment system that could not only provide the motion we wanted, distribute the weight evenly around the entire belt, and also have the ability to tune the amount of motion to the user's preference. Through lots of rounds of prototyping and testing, we developed a hipbelt with active 3D motion and elastomer "tendons" that dynamically distributes the weight so evenly and so comfortably that it's actually hard to tell how much of the pack's weight you are carrying on the belt. It's possible to carry 90%+ of the weight on your hips and not necessarily notice it.

In the last QC Lab post we covered ice tool picks—why and how they break, CE requirements for picks, some testing we do here at BD, how different types of picks are oftentimes more suited for particular application, and that they don’t last forever. This time it’s crampons, which, you guessed it, also don’t last forever. In this post we’ll not only delve into why crampons don’t last forever, but also why you must select the right tool for the job in order to get maximum performance and lifespan out of your gear.

It’s tough to clearly categorize crampons nowadays. Years ago there was “hinged” and “rigid”. There aren’t a lot of truly rigid crampons around anymore—most frames are of a similar hinged design. One could argue that it may make the most sense to categorize them into vertical front points (for waterfall ice) and horizontal front points (for alpine and snow).
Vertical Front Points
•    They are typically more rigid and provide a more solid platform for front pointing.
•    Think of the front points as 2x6s placed vertically for added rigidity.
•    They climb vertical ice better (less ice shattering), plus it’s possible to track in your pick placements and get  the points into cracks when mixed climbing.
•    The added rigidity results in them being able to take more cyclic abuse before the metal fatigues.
•    The downside is they are heavier.

Horizontal Front Points
•    Points are oriented for more surface area for better purchase while snow climbing.
•   Think of the front points as 2x6s placed horizontally for a wider, but less rigid, purchase area.
•    They are lighter.
•    The downside is that because they’re lighter (i.e., less material) they generally can’t take the amount of abuse as a pair of vertically oriented front point crampons.

Most crampons on the market adhere to the CE (EN893) and UIAA 153 requirements. These requirements include: minimum length of spikes, prevention against slippage, bending and breaking strength of spikes, strength of bails and retention system and strength of the frame. For a bit more insight into the CE and UIAA requirements for crampons, click here to go to the UIAA’s webpage on safety standards.

As with all BD products, we are obsessively dedicated to designing and building the absolute best gear possible (which means going above and beyond CE and UIAA standards), so we have created a battery of testing machines and tests that our crampons need to go through before they hit the market, including: fatigue testing, material wear testing, ultimate strength testing, crampon balling testing, high and low temperature testing, salt spray testing, UV testing and, of course, the fun part: field testing.

Nearly every single manufacturer uses the same combination of the following processes: vertical front points are hot forged; frames and horizontal front points are stamped, laser cut, milled or water jet from sheet and then cold formed. We do the entire crampon manufacturing downstairs here at BD HQ, and it’s cool to go down there and watch the process unfold.

Crampons are built with two basic materials: aluminum and/or steel. (And as shown in this photo, climbers on a super-thin budget have been known to bang together a homemade pair out of wood, duct tape and screws...)

Aluminum is lighter than steel, but also not as burly—so you’ll usually see aluminum crampons as non-technical products intended for snow/glacier travel only. Take a pair of aluminum crampons on a waterfall ice climb or walking over rocks, and they will be a bent and busted mess in no time.

Steel is the common material of choice: chromoly or stainless, with many different compositions of each available. As far as weight, steel is steel and there really isn’t much variation, however, different steels have different advantages and disadvantages when it comes to manufacturability and performance characteristics: machinability, formability, hardness, toughness, wear, durability, and, of course, cost.

A few years ago, Black Diamond switched from using chromoly steel to stainless steel for our crampons. The reason? Stainless, though roughly three times more expensive than chromoly, is less susceptible to rust, doesn’t require toxic paint or powder coating, performs better and, as a bonus, looks cool. As climbers, we count on stainless steel in critical areas every day: most newer bolts and bolt hangers are stainless; cables, ball swages and many parts on cams are stainless; and many ice axe heads, spikes, crampon and ice tool components use stainless. But before we made the switch on our crampons, we did a ton of testing to verify material selection. As well as targeting all of the CE and UIAA requirements, we performed our battery of additional tests: wear testing, crampon balling testing, fatigue testing.

What did we learn about stainless?
Field Testing: We tested stainless steel crampon protos around the globe for more than two years, from single-pitch mixed rigs to multi-day Himalayan giants to free solos in the Canadian Rockies, by some of the top climbers in the game (as well as some of the top hacks in the game—myself included). Athletes, testers, and employees put the stainless steel protos through pitch after pitch of use and experienced significant improvements in several performance characteristics (see below).

Wear: In our field testing and point wear test comparison in the QC Lab, we saw improved point durability in the stainless we selected over our previously used chromoly. Point geometry and rust (see below) were also significant contributors to how quickly points became dull.

Snow Balling: When brand new the stainless steel sheds snow about the same as a brand new powder-coated chromoly crampon. However, we noticed in the lab and in the field that when comparing used powder-coated chromoly crampon to a used stainless steel crampon, the stainless, with its smooth finish, sheds snow significantly better than the chromoly with its scrappy, flaked off powder coating.

Rust: In our non-calibrated salt-spray comparative testing, the chromoly crampons became completely rusted while the stainless crampons showed virtually no signs of rust, save for the toe bails and center bars, which are not made from stainless steel. By pitting and corroding the chromoly, rust acts as a wear accelerant, especially on the tips of the points. No rust = less snow balling and better long-term durability.

Fatigue: As noted in the previous QC Lab post regarding ice-tool picks, there is no official CE requirement for the fatigue life of crampons (or any climbing gear, for that matter). Fatigue life and optimizing the gear we make is extremely important to us, so, CE requirement or not, we designed and built our own crampon-specific cyclic machine (three actually) that test fatigue life (think: bending a coat hanger back and forth over and over until it breaks). Our goal was to determine if there was a significant difference in fatigue life based on material selection, geometry specifics, varying the loads, placement of loads, frequency of loads, etc. We cut old geometry out of stainless, we cut new geometry out of chromoly, we tested old Black Diamond products, other manufacturers products, and many iterations of prototypes—all in order to get a true understanding of where geometries, materials and the competition all stacked up as it pertains to cyclic durability. Overall, we tested hundreds of crampons, and continue to test as new styles and various performance characteristics adjustments are developed.

Below is a graph that shows a variety of front-point cyclic fatigue comparisons of BD Cyborg and Sabretooth crampons in both stainless and chromoly. What this test showed us was that, in regards to fatigue life, stainless steel was in the same ballpark as chromoly.

Even given all of the design work, material selection and testing that Black Diamond and most other manufacturers perform, under certain circumstances—and as with picks and most any gear—crampons won’t last forever. Crampons can and do wear out or break in the field—they always have. Points can become dull and eventually too short from continuous sharpening, bails can get tweaked, bent or rusted, points can bend or break from being torqued in a crack or heavily, single-point loaded during climbing or even walking (often while descending on hard ice or rocks), and points, center bars or crampon frames can ultimately break from the continuous pounding from metal fatigue.

In 2001, the British Mountaineering Council created a pamphlet to help educate climbers on gear, its uses, limitations, gear maintenance and inspection. Here’s an excerpt from the pamphlet regarding crampons:

Crampons take an incredible amount of punishment – a climber carrying a heavy rucksack and walking over rock or boulders transfers a large force onto the points of the crampon. (For the technically minded the impact force can be around 3kN, which on rough terrain might be shared by only two or three of the points!). Also the crampon bends slightly, even on the stiffest boot, and this happens on every step.

On a ten-mile walk a crampon could experience 10,000 bending cycles. Metal will break if cold enough and either bent with sufficient force (brittle fracture) or flexed back and forward enough times (fatigue failure). The surprising thing is not that some crampons break but rather that most crampons don’t break – a testament to our equipment manufacturers.

Click here to read various reports—albeit ones that are a bit dated—that the British Mountaineering Council posted on their website about crampon and all kinds of other gear field breakages.

The BMC pamphlet reports only 31 crampon field failures over a 15-year period. Not many. But remember that this information is from more than a decade ago. The current reality is that gear makers are pushing the limits of design (i.e., making gear lighter and more performance oriented, which usually comes at a cost of durability) and climbers are being harder and harder on gear because climbing styles and difficulty have changed so much in recent years.

Crampons break; they always have. No manufacture has a magic material or process to produce an unbreakable crampon. Every company has warranty returns, but all I will cover here are crampons that have been returned to Black Diamond. Our data includes everything from a broken frame or center bar to a slightly frayed strap to an ABS plate that has baked and melted in a car fire. All inclusive, our historical return rate for crampons is less than 0.1%. Specifically, crampon warranty return rates were around 0.06% for the eight-year period prior to using stainless steel, and around 0.02% since switching to stainless in 2009— as you can see in the chart below. We have rarely ever seen vertical front point crampons returned (remember that 2x6 analogy), so if we divide the warranty return rate down by model, it creeps close to 0.2% for technical crampons with horizontal front points (not shown specifically in this graph).

Every piece of climbing gear returned to BD Warranty eventually comes across my desk. We in the QC Lab analyze the returns and complete a comprehensive investigation. We treat every return as a serious opportunity to understand what happened, how it happened, and what’s going on in the field, as well as an opportunity to improve our products through refinements and meaningful design tweaks. Even though all of our crampons exceed all international standards, we do not hesitate to improve and optimize them based on real-world usage.

Historically here at BD, we would see a few random crampon returns for frayed webbing, plastic toe straps getting beat, bent front points or tweaked down-points. Sometimes we would see bent or broken rear down-points—usually from people descending hard ice or rocks and the heel down-points taking the brunt of the load. And sometimes we have seen broken crampon frames or center bars—often returned from trekking companies whose crampons see tons of mileage on glaciers, usually with people wearing really soft boots that flex a lot and cause a bending load on the frame.

We all know you can break anything if you try hard enough and that there have been and always will be anomalous failure modes. While investigating a couple of crampon warranty returns from this past season, we noticed a direct correlation: As crampons have gotten more and more specialized and lighter (20 years ago, crampons weighed upwards of 1400 grams per pair, now you’re seeing technical crampons as low as 800 grams per pair), boots are getting more asymmetric and significantly more flexible (think old plastic boots that were comfortable to climb in but made walking feel like you had wooden planks nailed to your feet vs. the comfort of today’s flexible, rockered leather boots). Unfortunately these two trends contribute negatively to the durability of a crampon. (It’s worth noting that currently there are no significant CE requirements for boot soles or the crampon/boot interface or compatibility, though this topic is being discussed in annual meetings of the UIAA Safety Commission, which I attend on behalf of Black Diamond.)

Back in the day, when people were climbing vertical ice with big, heavy rigid plastic boots, it was the boot—not the crampon—that was taking the bending load during climbing. But now with the popularity of lighter and more flexible boots, the crampon ends up taking the bending load as you’re front pointing. And as the BMC article states: metal fatigue by bending is one of the main factors that lead to crampons breaking. This, of course, is exacerbated as the load increases (heavier climbers) and as the moment arm increases (bigger feet). What does all that mean in regards to boots? It means that when climbing in modern day (more flexible) boots, a big, heavy guy with big feet is going to abuse a crampon more than a lighter woman with small feet.

Check out the animated gifs below that show how much boots flex when loaded by an 80kg climber, front pointing in size 45 boots. You can see that the old plastic boots have virtually zero flex and therefore transfer virtually zero bending load to the crampon. The other two boots are popular current models, one lightweight ice boot and one medium weight mountain boot—the amount of bending load transferred to the crampon is dramatically significant.

Crampons
I don’t think we’ve ever seen a vertically oriented front point crampon frame break, but we have seen horizontally oriented front point frames break. As a general rule beefier crampons with vertical front points performed better in cycle fatigue than lighter crampons with horizontal front points. This should be no surprise. So if you are planning on doing a lot of front pointing on water ice or you’re an Alpine MOG that tips the scales over the 90kg level, you will best be served with a vertical front point crampon.

We wanted to be able to put some actual numbers to the difference in fatigue life, so we did a comparison on our homemade cyclic machine that represents repeated front pointing. And, as always, we not only tested our own current-model crampons but also other manufacturers.


As you can see, pretty much across the board, vertically oriented front points do better than horizontal. Once again, this increased durability is from the vertical oriented front points increasing stiffness and being able to take more abuse before fatigue.

Boots and Center Bars
Proper boot selection and fit to the crampon is critical in optimizing performance and maximizing lifespan. If you’re using a boot that has lots of flex, a flexible center bar allows the crampon to move with the boot, thus reducing the bending load forces on the front frame of the crampon.

We wondered how different boot and center bar combinations affected the lifespan of crampons—so we tested it. We ended up comparing how many cycles a crampon could take before failure, depending on which boot was used:
o    a soft hiking boot
o    mid-stiff boot (modern day, typically used for climbing vertical ice)
o    truly rigid (plastic) boot.
As well as, which center bar was selected (rigid or flexible)

(Note: This test doesn’t directly correlate to any actual real world pitches of ice or miles of walking. It must be taken as a direct comparison within it’s own dataset.)
The results show that the softer the boot, the fewer number of cycles the crampon frame can take before metal fatigue—which makes sense since the crampon ends up taking the bending load. The results also show that using a flexible center bar can greatly increase the life of your crampon. Currently all horizontal front point crampons (the Sabretooth, Serac, Contact and Neve) come equipped with flexible center bars, and the vertical front point crampons (Stinger and Cyborg) are equipped with rigid center bars. Performance-wise, flexible center bars improve walking performance, but result in a slightly reduced technical performance.

Once again, the Brits got it right in the BMC pamphlet:

Also the crampon bends slightly, even on the stiffest boot, and this happens on every step. Metal will break flexed back and forward enough times (fatigue failure).

i) Choose a crampon suitable for your boot type – putting fully rigid crampons on flexible boots may damage the boots, the crampons and possibly your feet into the bargain.
ii) Choose a crampon appropriate for your intended use – using highly technical crampons for walking on mixed terrain will increase the likelihood of fatigue failure. Similarly, using crampons with long front points for climbing on rock will probably result in broken front points very quickly!
iii) Regular inspection – be aware that your crampons take the most abuse of any of your mountaineering equipment so be extra vigilant with frequent inspections.

Care and Maintenance:
Proper use care and maintenance is crucial to increasing the usable lifespan of your gear. Inspect your gear often. Read the manufacturer’s instructions. Click here to download ours, and read below for excerpts from other companies’ instructions, all of which provide similar directions for care and maintenance.

LIife of crampon:
• Sporadic use with a seasonal concentration = between 5 and 10 years.
• Regular use throughout the year on difficult routes and some ice falls = between 3 and 5 years.
• Frequent, professional use on new routes and ice falls = between 3 and 6 seasons.
• Dry tooling, modern mixed, competitions = between 1 and 2 seasons.

The materials do not last forever. Check the tool before using it every time and do not hesitate to replace it.
You can damage your crampons by walking on rock carelessly (or running up the cable car steps!) so
check then regularly. They will not last forever. Their life span depends on how they are used, on what sort of terrain and how often.

The crampons are designed for alpinism on snow, ice or mixed routes. They should be adapted to the intended use and to the types of boots.
Note: the boots' sole should be rigid or semi rigid.

Checking, points to verify:
Before each use, check the attachment of the front and rear
In addition to the inspection before each use, an in-depth inspection must be carried out by a competent inspector.

In addition to the normal inspection required before, during and after each use, this product should be annually examined by a competent person; the recording of this check should be done on the life sheet of
the product.

Before using the crampons check that the binding system fits the boots that
will be used. Only use crampons with a flexible linking bar on soft mountaineering boots.

Maintenance and lifespan
Check your crampons before, during and after each use. Check that there are no cracks on the metallic parts.
A more thorough examination shall be made at least every year by a competent and trained person. The maximum lifespan of the crampon is 5 years of use. This lifespan can be reduced to one single use in case of severe load (fall). If you have any doubt about any piece of gear, retire and destroy it.

Yowsa. This is one seriously long QC Lab post! So what does all of this data and info mean? The bottom line:
•    Vertically oriented front points are best for climbing water ice and/or heavy climbers, and tend to do better in cyclic fatigue.
•    Horizontal front points are best used for the alpine.
•    Flexible center bars can increase the lifespan of your crampons, but at a cost of performance.
•    Boots aren’t as rigid as they used to be and break down/wear in quicker.
•    Use flexible center bars with truly non-rigid boots.
•    Regardless of the version or model of BD crampon you own, when matched with appropriate boots and center bars, they can be trusted perform to the highest of standards.
•    Just like with ice picks, no one has a magic material or process that produces an unbreakable crampon.
•    Gear doesn’t last forever.

Regardless if the gear is new age or old school, lightweight or heavy, Black Diamond or any other manufacturer, no climbing gear will last forever. Climbers should know the limitations of their gear, its appropriate use, and inspect often. If you take care of your climbing gear and use it in the proper application, it will last longer. And, as always, if you’re questioning the strength or usability of a piece of gear, retire it.

Stay tuned for Part Three in this series in a few weeks, were we’ll cover slings and quickdraws.

Be safe out there —
KP

Since posting from the Pacific Northwest earlier this spring, I spent a month in Zhuhai, China working to develop BD's new ski production facility. While the challenges of a "ground-up" development operation such as this are often overwhelming, it's empowering to have a blank slate and know that all focus is on creating something on the cutting edge; a facility that will enable faster design evolution, with a tighter feedback loop, among other benefits.

When the month was up I flew home to North America, just in time to blast off to Montana with my girlfriend and our dog to catch a ski wedding of epic proportions at the old stomping grounds of Bridger Bowl. Then we busted a U-turn, made the haul back home to Oregon, and I had just enough time to pack a bag and then catch a flight to Europe.  No rest for the weary—time to go skiing in the Alps!

I crashed into Chamonix with a big bag full of gear and very little plan. Jon Griffith graciously offered me his couch, and with huge appreciation I tucked myself in to the corner of his small apartment. The ski world may not be familiar with Jon Griffith, but alpinists around the globe have come to recognize him as one of today's premier alpine climbers and photographers. He's known for being one of the few alpinist photogs strong enough to haul the additional load of full photographic equipment high into exposed and committed alpine environments.  When I arrived, he had recently finished shooting the images for BD's 2012 Alpinism Digital Catalog, which is a digital evolution of BD (and Chouinard's) iconic catalog publications.

With a bit of guidance from Jon and his roomates, I began to explore the Chamonix valley. The magnitude of the peaks and the incredible access via the network of trams, gondolas and telepheriques was overwhelming, and it took some time to wrap my tired mind around the possibilities of the place. As it turned out, the incredible winter in the Alps had turned off about 3 weeks prior (and the snow had moved to the thirsty Rockies just as I left...) so what snow remained was going through a heavy diurnal freeze/thaw cycle. The resulting ski conditions were slide-for-life-ice in the big terrain, hammered bumps in much of the lower freeride terrain, and a relatively small softening window each day before turning from ice to soup.

As my tendency is to gravitate to big terrain, I found that I felt much safer skiing with my speedwing and speedriding; and therefore much of my descent was a combination of skiing and flying. This results in incredible access to some of the most radical terrain imaginable, and I was able to stack laps off the North Face of the Aiguille du Midi, touch down and carve through the bowls at Brevant, and buzz seracs while flying laps down to the Argentierre glacier at Grandes Montets. When a storm did finally come, I unfolded my Compactor Z-poles, put away my wing, and milked the last drops out of the powder days, following locals and making new friends skiing in this freeride and ski-mountaineering mecca.

As a lifelong skier for whom skiing has been a defining factor of my existence, it was an eye-opening experience to spend time in the land of origination of modern ski culture, heritage, and design. From the masterpieces of engineering accomplished in the tramways spanning to the summits of 'insurmountable' peaks, to the cutting edge of ski equipment design, Chamonix is a breeding ground and a testing ground for everything skiing (as well as climbing). As an engineer currently involved in ski design and production it was particularly interesting, and I took every opportunity to absorb the ski concepts and designs and their associated user groups. For example, while a skier from the southern Rockies such as myself may opt for something as big and powerful as Megawatts for everyday skiing, the largest skis chosen by the majority of the Chamonairds were significantly smaller and better suited to steep, often firm conditions. The Scandanavians tend to have a preference for large skis similar to North Americans, whereas through the tunnel in Italy on a sunny day almost everything I saw was of the radical sidecut, carving ski variety.

A fun experience on one of my last days in Chamonix was to come across cinematographer Seb Montaz and his crew, filming on a high-line for a Brazilian TV company. I watched in awe as they walked the line in the gusty winds, and captured as many of my own images of the spectacle as possible.  Later on, I chased Seb for a lap down Brevant on my wing.

My time in Chamonix finished with a couple of calm, beautiful days to session the Aiguille du Midi, just as the snow was melting from the run-out and it could no longer be skied back to the tram. I have since vacated Jon's couch and headed down south to stay with an old kayaking buddy near La Grave. Stay tuned for an update from the second half of my trip around La Grave and then heading north to the Swiss Alps to finish in the Jungfrau region.

[All fishing photos courtesy of Drew Stoecklein, all skiing photos courtesy of Garrett Grove.]

Once again it was time to leave the arid Salt Lake City desert and head to the Great White North in search of an adventure. With the Wasatch suffering for snow, I decided to head over to Washington's Olympic peninsula in search of the renowned chrome winter steelhead.

Washington is one of the few locations that one can catch 40-inch chromed steelheads and ski 40-degree waist deep powder in the same weekend. The rivers and the mountains here are truly unique.

When I landed in Washington, my good friends Jess and Bobby picked me up from the airport and we set off to test our luck on the river. Arriving at the coast proved to be a beautiful sight. The vibrant emerald rivers were engulfed by lush rainforest. Emerging from the thickets, the river poured into the raging ocean and somewhere swimming in these massive rivers were the mystical winter run steelhead. Most anglers dream about one day catching a chrome winter run Steelhead on the OP.

After two days of relentlessly dredging the river with our flies in the pouring rain, Jess finally hooked one. As Jess erupted with excitement, Bobby and I dropped our gear and rushed over to help him land the fish that he had been fighting for the past 20 minutes. Bobby waded out and tailed the fish so Jess could set down his rod.  Eagerly, Jess grabbed the measuring tape and laid it down on fish's side. The wild steelhead buck measured 35 inches and was perfectly chrome with a hint of color. Its scales were micro mirrors with traces of sea lice. It had fought like a wild badger, but now it lay tranquil. We all admired it. Not only was it an amazing privilege seeing one of these wild beasts up close, but it was also a thrill fighting with one on the end of the line. This was truly a fish of a lifetime for Jess. For me, it was so incredible to be a part of that moment and see the fish intimately. That night we celebrated the great catch in Forks, and the next day Bobby dropped me off to go skiing with photographer Garret Grove.

After having an unforgettable trip on the Olympic Peninsula, Garret and I drove from the Seattle to the small Bavarian town of Leavenworth.  I knew that it had been snowing in the mountains due to the torrential precipitation we endured on the river. But I didn't realize what was in store for us. On our first morning, we ventured to Stevens Pass. After hopping off the chairlift, to my surprise, there was 3.5 feet of cold smoke powder. I had no idea that Washington could get such light snow. All of us where suffocating as we ripped through the mossy trees, creating long smoke trails. With each turn, I had a grin from ear to ear. This was truly an epic trip that could only be experienced in Washington.

The next day we returned to Stevens Pass. The parking lot was packed, yet there seemed to be few people at the resort.  The vibe at Stevens was friendly and mellow. It was great to be at a resort with no rat race. And despite the unbelievable snow, people were pleasantly easy-going. The powder was even deeper, however slightly more dense. Never the less, we happily barreled through it, snaking through the tight, steep, Washington trees.

Our third and last day at Stevens was greeted by even more snow. It seemed as if the precipitation in Washington was relentless. The snow pack felt bottomless. We shredded the side country all day, enjoying every turn to its fullest. At the end of another mind-blowing day, I hopped in the car and rushed to the airport to fly back to Salt Lake City. As I was sitting in the airport thinking back on the trip I could not believe how the all the stars aligned to create all those wonderful memories in Washington.

What's your ultimate dream adventure? Surfing the sky-blue waves in Malibu? Kayaking the class five rapids of the Appalachian foothills? Star-gazing in Bryson Canyon?

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ENTER at our contest homepage, and in 400 words or less tell us what your epic plans are for a gear-heavy GO expedition AND how you would promote your adventure. Blogging? Stop-motion photo stream? Sky writing? Would you brag to your friends? How about your office, your ex or your grandma? Tell us!

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Photos by: Franz Walter

El Paso sits on the southern edge of the nation, on the edge of a vast desert, wild with car thieves and gangsters, traffickers of human, arms and drugs, bad drivers without insurance, and a big tall fence festooned with discarded plastic bags and bits of refuse running alongside a trickling, muddy brook.

Hueco Tanks, not 40 minutes away, sits peaceful and pristine, an anchor for our human and climbing culture. I’ve been coming here season after season, annually, bi-annually; the space here remains constant: a vortex, magnifying and edifying me and the experiences of my life time and time again. I can come here with peace, and have more peace. I can come here with tumults unheeded, and reap the whirlwind of my deeds. It’s downright psychedelic sometimes, the magic of this place, be it black or white, a magic 8ball or rites of human sacrifice. I’m reminded whenever I come down here, in one way or another, we’re playthings of the old gods when we come to play in their sandbox.

Crawling into the guts of Hueco’s four mountains, you enter another climate, another world. Birds sing, javalinas grunt and wiggle down the trails, coyotes serenade the passing watches of the sun. The greenery drinks deep from the rock wells. The wind howls like the wild dogs roaming the stony arroyos.

Sometimes, the outside world penetrates this fortress of nature: the rumble of bombs and artillery, the staccato pops of heavy machine gun fire and the thump of passing attack helicopters remind you of the very serious world, just beyond the horizon. In recent years, the world has encroached ever more on this oasis: crest a rocky ridgeline and look away north, south, and east, to a private training camp for soldiers of fortune, the cheap box-buildings made to resemble Middle Eastern towns.

In, out, black, white, yin, yang, positive, negative. Always a blend here, tossing you back and forth, making you think, making you try, making you do. A huge, stirring cauldron, boiling with life and experience.

Maybe that’s why we keep coming back: for the slosh, and for the calm, but never for nothing.




Music by: Sunsearcher "Latin Rhythm", and “Flamenco Rhythm” (http://www.jamendo.com/en/artist/Sunsearcher)
and
"fiesta en mi barrio" by Scappare di Casa (http://dasandereselbst.org)

I traveled alone to Barcelona and then I met my climbing partner, Enzo Oddo. He is 16 years old and from France. We found climbing together very good and for sure I couldn't complain about social atmosphere during the trip. The other great thing was the Spanish weather. It is complitely crazy. 3 minutes of rain in 3 weeks... no complaint.

Only thing that was worth to complain about was my climbing shape. After long sessions on boring plastic in my town, I forgot how to move on the real rock. By the way, when I was in Siurana I read great report from Alex Honnold about climbing gyms in Poland. He was on our climbing wall and it was very nice to read that someone’s seing the cool side of our dirty climbing walls. Coming back to Siurana I needed a couple of days to remember the rythm and balance. Unfortunately, when I thought that I was ready to try climb harder, I got a finger injury on a good, crimpy 8c route Pati Noso.

I had to stop pushing hard, but I didn’t mean, that my trip was worse. I tried to develop my other skills ☺. I learned a lot of French, practised my photography and of course I tried to discover fthe antastic culture of Catalunya. I must admit, that it is absolutely different than Polish one. From my point of view Spanish people live much slower. No rush. No stress. Just mañana.

I was able to climb on routes which didn’t forced me to use very much my broken ring finger, so I choose the best classics of sector El Pati like amazing Kallea Borroka or Migranya Profounda, both 8b+. Both are beautiful and uniqe. Actually, almost all routes in Siurana were admirable. Maybe not my style, because many long reaches, but I had great fun doing them.

For last four days we moved to Margalef, which is about 1 hour from Siurana by car. Everything changed. This was the next thing, which made on me big impression. During the drive, firstly I was watching limestone cliffs, than sandstone and finally conglomerate rock, which make up the Margalef sectors. Many intermediates holds = good for short people, like me. My finger was much better and I didn’t have to crimp here, so I found cool project for finish of the trip. I choose L’espiadimonis (8c) in sector Crova Box. This is very nice endurance route with crux in the middle. I really liked it and after one unseccssfull day of tries, I decided to try one more day. I rested for one day and did route first try on the next day. So great feeling! Good finish of the trip. ☺

Greetings from cold and rainy Poland!
Alex

When people bring up the Black Canyon the first things that comes to mind are loose rock, poison ivy, ticks, tall walls, and incredible adventure. The trip Johnny and I took was no different.

Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park is located in western Colorado about a 3-hour drive east of Moab (if coming from Utah). The place is an incredible gash in the earth and unless you see it, it is hard to fathom. Driving in to the Black is an odd and creepy experience. From Moab you drive across the Utah desert into the barren land of western Colorado passing cow pastures and open fields. Once you reach the park you pull into a treed oasis with no visibility of the canyon itself. Only after walking a short distance out of the trees and towards the canyon rim do you finally get a glimpse of the size and magnitude of the Black. Its 55-mile stretch of gneiss and pegmatite looks like it goes on forever, and its walls, varying from 500 feet to 2400 feet, make you think you should be able to see the core of the earth.

Since the Black has such a history of being loose and terrifying Johnny and decided to tick off 2 easier-rated climbs: The Casual Route (5.8) and Escape Artist (5.10-).

The first day, the Casual Route was just as the name implies; pretty casual. The gear was a little bit difficult to get used to, but it was all there. The rock had bands that were loose and nasty, but nothing terrifying, and the route was all together enjoyable. Walking back to the car that day we were feeling strong and confident.

The next day we got up early, since both the approach and the hike out was going to take longer then the day before.  We got moving quickly so we could scramble farther down the loose poison ivy-filled, tick-infested gully than the previous day.   After a small debate on where the route began, we did some 4th class scrambling to the base, where we did our usual routine of racking up and uncoiling ropes, but with the added activity of checking for ticks and seeing if either one of us had gotten a little too close to the poison ivy. Once the pre-route activities were done, I took the rack and started up into some broken climbing. Once the easy broken climbing was done the pitch went into a left-arching finger crack with questionable feet. The pitch went pretty well, a little more strenuous than anticipated, but I climbed to the split of Escape Artist and Comic Relief. At the split going to the left is a wild traverse into pegmatite or to the right is a steep finger and hands crack. We decided on our original idea to climb Escape Artist so the pegmatite traverse was next on the list.

Johnny grabbed the rack and started moving.  The rock was looser then it looked and the gear got real interesting. Johnny, a master at finding good gear amongst what looks like unprotectable rock, protected the pitch nicely and pulled through some awkward and airy moves. The pitch was very physical, using all sorts of offwidth, chimney, and funky jams, and he pushed, grunted and forced his way across the traverse.

With 2 pitches down the next couple of pitches were filled with a wide variety of movements, gear, exposed terrain, run-outs, and some interesting anchors. This lead us to the last pitch of the climb. It was my lead and I had 3 options, the Lightning Bolt crack 5.11 and steep, a 5.9 mossy corner, or a slabby 5.7. Since it was the last pitch and we were tired I thought I would do the 5.7 and get us back to the bean burritos that were for dinner. I threw the rack over my shoulder and started up. The rock was terrible crumbly pegmatite. I moved as gently as I could, but still vigilantly looking for gear because I was certain that a handhold or a foot would break off at any minute.  After about 50 feet, I only had 1 piece in, and it probably wouldn't have held a cat if it were to fall from the position I was standing in. I made a move around a corner and out of the pegmatite and place 2 decent pieces. I stood there for a minute regaining my composure because I still had 100 or so feet of climbing before the pitch was over. I moved through the pitch, twitchy and sporadic from the loss of nerves on the first 50 feet and built an anchor. Johnny climbed up to me with a look of disgust and made 2 comments: "that rock was awful" and, "you know that piece wouldn't have held right?" I started laughing because at the time it was the only  thing I could do.

Johnny lead the remaining mellow climbing and showed the way back to the car. The scramble/hike out of the canyon took significantly longer then we anticipated and we reached the car hours after planned.  With the climb done we proceeded to crack open some beers, scarf down every last bit of dinner, and laugh and poke fun of the days mental breakdowns.

-Mike

Day 10 of the basic class—Exam Day. Everything that the students had learned would be tested, and it wasn’t easy. Not everyone passed, but even those that didn’t walked away with a wealth of knowledge and skills that they otherwise wouldn’t have had. It’s the intent and hope of the Khumbu Climbing Center that these students now have a foundation that will help keep them and their clients safer in the big hills, and I believe that was accomplished. The next day was graduation: a ceremony, speeches, handing out of certificates and the obligatory photo opportunities.
Most of the students immediately blasted down valley to get back to their families and lives, while we had about 36 hours before the Advanced Class started. So a few of us Western Instructors decided to head up valley, a quick day’s walk, to the next village in order to get better views of Everest, Lhoste, Nuptse, Tawoche and Ama Dablam. It was mind blowing. To be standing in the midst of these great peaks was something I’ve always dreamt of—now I’ll just need to return in order to climb something.

Our one day off was a much needed break, but as the Advanced Students arrived, it was directly back to work. Fewer students (about 30), smaller groups and a more intense program allowed and required more one-on-one direct instruction. There was review of rope work, belay technique and general safety, but then it was right into the meat of it: advanced climbing techniques, leading, multi-pitch climbing, advanced anchor building, crevasse rescue, vertical rescue, tandem rappelling, hauling systems, ascending and descending fixed lines, etc. A full-on jam-packed, intense eight-day course.
Upon completion of the curriculum and another graduation ceremony, there was no time to waste—I needed to get back to work. A few of us made the trek back to Lukla in one long day and managed to get on the first flight out the next day back to Katmandu. Shortly after it was the 45 hours of travel back to Salt Lake City—and mere hours later I was sitting in my office.

As I sit here, in my heated office after having a hot shower this morning and wearing clean clothes, it all seems surreal. What seems like yesterday I was in the Himalaya meeting amazing people, seeing incredible scenery, and teaching climbing: truly a life changing experience. Everyone is asking me how my vacation was – my one-word response is always the same, “exhausting”.

— KP

From:     Paul Robinson
Subject:     Albarracin
Date:     March 13, 2012 1:52:17 PM MDT

I first heard about Albarracin many years ago.  I heard good things and bad things over the years and finally decided that I had to check the area out for myself to be the judge.  I made the drive from Lisbon, Portugal to Albarracin in hopes of colder temperatures and majestic sandstone.  To my amazement, it was everything I had ever dreamed of.

The climbing in Albarracin is some of the best bouldering in all of Europe!  There are big proud boulders in all directions and tons of potential for new lines.  I spent my first few days climbing many of the classics of the area but soon found some amazing projects that i was quite eager to try.  One of which was on a big boulder and was super steep, much like a lot of the climbing in Albarracin.  The climb looked really gymnastic and powerful.  Out of all the projects I had seen I was most psyched on this one!

The first day I tried the line I was unable to do either of the crux moves but felt close to both of them.  The crux moves are back to back and both are quite low percentage, especially the second one.  The first hard move involves jumping to a bad pinch and holding a hard swing.  Once you do that you have to match the pinch and do the hardest move on t he climb, a long blind dead point to a very small crimp high up on the face of the boulder.  I fell here countless times!

On my third day of trying, I was beginning to get really close.  Unfortunately the weather was not looking so good and it began to rain.  I was forced to stop trying for a bit.  A lull in the rain finally emerged and I waited 15 minutes or so to let the top out dry slightly.  After one bad try, I found myself topping out what would be the first ascent of "Helicopters on Beaches," 8B+.

I am really psyched to have put up such a classic hard line in Albarracin!  I think that this line is one of my best FA's to date and I look forward to people putting effort into repeating it in the future! I am now about to host the world premiere of Welcome to the Hood in Madrid and after that the search is on again for new boulders all around the world!

— Paul

For a full list of the groups we support, click here.

The growth and evolution of the American Alpine Club (AAC) and alpinism and climbing have been undeniably intertwined over the last century. Established in 1902, the AAC's mission statement reads: "We provide knowledge and inspiration, conservation and advocacy, and logistical support for the climbing community." What began as a social club of elite adventures on the East Coast is now a "more centrally located Denver-area organization that actively participates in international dialog about environmental policy, high altitude safety and medicine, innovation in alpine tools, clothing and survival technologies, sponsors expeditions, and investigates controversies in the world of exploration." Notable past presidents and founders include John Muir, Annie Peck and Fannie Bullock Workman. The club has both sponsored and participated in such notable expeditions as the 1939 summit of K2, the 1963 first American summit of Mt. Everest and the 1966 summit of Antarctica's Mt. Vinson.

These days, the AAC provides its membership support in the form of rescue, insurance, grants, retreats and guide referrals in addition to continued advocacy for conservation and access. The AAC's marketing director, Erik Lambert, describes the club's goals going into the new year:

Our longterm goal is to build a better club that engages and supports our members. We're one year into a five-year strategic plan to do just that, and we've already made heaps of progress. We've hired four Regional Coordinators around the country to support volunteers, build relationships, host events, and simply listen to what each community wants and needs. We've hired a Conservation & Policy Director to fight for climbers' rights in Washington D.C.-and mobilize local stewardship projects around the country. We've increased member benefits (rescue insurance has doubled, for example). We're on a digitization crusade to make our library's publications and archives available online. $25,000 is now delivered locally every year for crag infrastructure projects, which keep our climbing areas here in the United States open and clean. And we're building two much-needed campgrounds at the Gunks and New River Gorge. This is just the beginning, and we have more members than ever before. Added together, we are truly building a better and more inclusive national club for climbers.

Lambert goes on to describe the relationship between Black Diamond and the AAC:

Black Diamond's partnership with the AAC is critical. Partner funds allow us to provide better benefits, services, and programs to our members-who are also Black Diamond customers. BD's early pioneers were AAC members. It's great to look back and see how far both organizations have come, supporting each other along the way.

For more information on the American Alpine Club or to become a member, please click here.

Department of the Interior

1849 C Street, N.W.

Washington DC 20240

Phone: (202) 208-3100

E-Mail: feedback@ios.doi.gov

BLM POISED TO APPROVE DISASTEROUS DEVELOPMENT PROJECT IN DESOLATION CANYON   PROPOSED WILDERNESS—Rejects Nationwide Call to Protect Jobs and the Environment

WASHINGTON (March 16, 2012) --- The Obama Administration’s decision today authorizing nearly 1,300 new natural gas wells in Utah’s Desolation Canyon wilderness and other remote areas will degrade the pristine region’s air quality and hurt the state’s tourism industry, according to a coalition of environmental groups.

In approving the so-called Gasco development project, the Department of the Interior also rejected calls by the Environmental Protection Agency and tens of thousands of citizens from across the country to approve an alternative to Gasco’s proposal that would have allowed for significant development while also protecting the Desolation Canyon proposed wilderness and reduced the overall footprint and impact of the project. The Desolation Canyon region is important to Utah’s desert recreation and tourism, a $4 billion industry that generates approximately $300 million annually in state tax revenue and supports 65,000 jobs.

“Secretary Salazar is making the wrong decision to approve the Gasco project in a way that creates irreversible risks to Desolation Canyon,” said Peter Metcalf CEO/President of Black Diamond, Inc. “This decision is particularly disappointing in light of the fact that conservationists, and the EPA (with support of the leading companies in the American outdoor industry) endorsed an alternative drilling plan that protected the sanctity of the Desolation Canyon proposed wilderness, while allowing for robust drilling to occur on a huge parcel abutted to the proposed wilderness area. It is truly tragic that the BLM can't show some small degree of balance.”

The Desolation Canyon proposed wilderness is the largest unprotected roadless complex in the lower 48 states. Centered around the Desolation Canyon stretch of the Green River, the area’s spectacular solitude and endless vistas are awe-inspiring. But now this remarkable place is once again in the crosshairs for destruction.

“It’s bewildering that Secretary Salazar—who has been such a strong advocate of conserving America’s great outdoors—would allow turning Desolation Canyon into an industrial wasteland,’’ said Sharon Buccino, director of NRDC’s Land and Wildlife program. “Desolation Canyon has some of the most stunning wilderness vistas found anywhere. It is no wonder that EPA gave this proposal its worst environmental rating possible.”

Gasco—a Colorado-based natural gas company—wants to drill nearly 1,300 new gas wells in the area, including more than 200 new wells in the Desolation Canyon proposed wilderness and gateway areas.

The administration analyzed two alternatives to the company’s proposed action, both of which would have barred drilling in the Desolation Canyon proposed wilderness and while affording greater protections for the Green River and Nine Mile Canyon badlands. But the administration ended up supporting the company’s plans to drill in all these sensitive places.

This approval comes at a time when natural gas prices are at near-record lows due to an abundance of gas supplies, and companies are idling drilling rigs in developed fields in the Uinta Basin.

“Desolation Canyon and Nine Mile Canyon along the Green River are some of the wildest places left in Utah, and they should be protected from drilling,” said Nada Culver, Director and Senior Counsel of The Wilderness Society’s BLM Action Center. “There are more than 1,000 approved BLM drilling permits going unused by oil and gas companies in Utah alone. We should take the most responsible approach to developing this area in order to preserve the spectacular wilderness-quality lands, the rare and extraordinary rock art, and the threatened plant and wildlife species in Desolation Canyon.”

The BLM itself has described Desolation Canyon as “…one of the largest blocks of roadless BLM public lands within the continental United States. This is a place where a visitor can experience true solitude – where the forces of nature continue to shape the colorful, rugged landscape.”

Eastern Utah has experienced several years of record high wintertime ozone levels that are largely linked to oil and gas development. According to Gasco’s own data, this project will add to those unsafe pollution levels.

“Secretary Salazar’s approval of the controversial Gasco project stands in stark contrast to the agreements worked out over the past few years between industry, the Interior Department, and conservation groups over several natural gas projects in eastern Utah,” said Stephen Bloch, an attorney for the Southern Utah Wilderness Alliance. “There is a proven, better way to bring parties together and produce a win-win solution. It is inexplicable why the Secretary is turning his back on this approach.”
"The Desolation Canyon region is one of the most iconic landscapes of wildness that Utah is known for," said Tim Wagner of the Sierra Club. "People from all over the world come to Desolation every year for the many outdoor experiences. To permanently mar this area over 200 new natural gas wells is a serious error in land management decision-making.”

[Russ Clune, front and center, as Peter Metcalf makes his remarks during the party.]

How do you, in a few moments, capture the contributions of someone who has played such a significant role in this company’s history, development, personality and brand qualities?  You really don’t… but I can share a few highlights.

I was first introduced to Russ early in 1987 by Maria Cranor. I believe it was at an annual meeting of the American Alpine Club. Russ had a much deserved, larger-than-life reputation as one of the best trad climbers of the time – a pioneer Gunks climber and without question the best traveled, most accomplished, best known and most liked America climber of the time. When we met and had an hour or so to talk I realized the guy had:
•    an infectious smile
•    a warm, outgoing, and egoless personality
•    a life that was truly forged from the sports
•    a true dirtbag living ability
•    a bright and curious mind that could hold a conversation on nearly any topic, making him an ideal travel-companion
•    and, his global posse included a who’s who list of the best and most admired rock climbers in the world!

Chouinard Equipment was growing—at that time we may have been all of $5 million—and I wanted to continue to recruit climbers who were defining the sports, our values and our lifestyle as they would be accretive to defining who we were and continue to build the core and iconoclastic nature of BD.

[(left to right) Peter Metcalf (CEO and founder), Chris Grover (VP of Sales), and Russ Clune during the party]

No one better personified that then Russ. He had just completed his Masters at Columbia and we hired him. He moved to California and became part of the most vibrant climbing scene Ventura had ever witnessed.  Russ surely played an integral role in defining us!

When Chouinard Equipment went down and I put together the plans to create Black Diamond Equipment, Russ was there fully – committing himself rather than take advantage of other opportunities being offered to him. He committed a truly meaningful amount of dollars to BD’s opening capital, NOT because he believed it would ever make a meaningful return, but because he believed in the sports, in our community and the righteousness of the our purpose and mission.

Hence, he was in….110%, and in those early years the multiple roles Russ played covered not only sales, but key responsibilities in our growth strategy, the products we did and did not make, marketing and more. During Russ’ early days at BD not only did he handle dealer service and a multitude of territories and more, but for several years he was our international sales manager.

[Russ Clune with his new guitar amp and custom-made BD cover that was presented to him in recognition for his 25 years with Black Diamond]

Two highlights of my time with Russ include a trip to Japan to work with our Japanese Distributor. We travelled from Hokkaido to Jogasaki and experienced some amazing skiing and rock climbing. Another was a trip to ISPO Munich in February of 1990,  just after the Berlin Wall came down. The Cold War was ending and the world felt like it was going through a major paradigm and power shift. The US dollar wasn’t worth much then, but it was great to be there and experience this amazing time in history with Russ!

Though I value greatly—more with each passing year—both the contributions that Russ made to defining who we are and getting us here… and though I enjoy remembering this rich historical narrative of time with Russ…what I love and admire most about Russ is that he lives life not in rearview mirror, not by talking about the good ol’ days, but rather he lives it for today and for tomorrow. His passion and zest for the climbing, the culture, the people, its values and lifestyle has not diminished one iota, and if anything has only grown.

His fitness, ability and energy for “getting after it” is absolutely inspirational and continues to help define the BD brand today as it did 20 years ago.

Russ, I cherish my memories and your contributions of the past 25 years, and that is what we are celebrating today. I am excited by the future and all that holds as well. Thank you and congratulations!

— Peter

Here at Black Diamond, I answer more emails about the longevity and durability of climbing gear than anything else. Contrary to popular belief, climbing gear doesn't last forever. For instance, I recently received a #2 Camalot in the mail that was manufactured in 2002. The thing was destroyed—it looked like it had been up El Cap 300 times. The customer wanted a new one because it was worn out. News flash: climbing gear doesn't last forever.

If I took a set of tires with 60,000 miles on them back to the tire shop to get replaced, I'd get laughed at—same is true for climbing gear. Perhaps it's a legacy thing. Yes, back in the day some climbing gear did last longer, because it was designed and manufactured to be more robust and consequently was heavier and ultimately didn't perform as well. But even back in the day, climbing gear had a useable lifespan. Also, as the climbing standards increase, we're torquing our picks and crampons, whipping on sketchy pins and cams and just generally being way harder on our gear.

But just as you can buy beefy, all-terrain radials that last longer than high-performance race tires, you can buy rugged climbing gear that'll last longer, but at a cost of weight and performance. You can also purchase more specialized, lighter gear, but it generally won't be quite as burly. It's up to each individual climber to make the choice and understand the possible ramifications of these decisions.

One last thing: my job at BD is to manage a team of engineers that test and break gear all day, every day.  We test all gear (not just BD, but all our competitor's gear, too) and do so scientifically and objectively. Yes, we monitor the blogs and chat rooms for trends, information and what is being discussed, and are constantly surprised by both the nature of the commentary (sometimes factual and sometimes not) and the tendency of most blog/forum readers to accept everything as true. As a caveat, don't believe everything you read online—if you do, I have a friend in Nigeria who will wire you $100,000 and all you have to do is send him your bank account information.

Read on for some objective test data on the realities regarding the fatigue life of some of the products that continually pop up. We'll start off with ice gear, then in subsequent posts I'll discuss rock climbing and mountain gear. First up, ice tool picks.

There are basically three types of ice-tool picks: beefy mixed climbing picks, mountain picks, and high-performance, ice-specific picks. Mixed picks and all-mountain picks usually have a larger cross section (i.e., thicker with more material at critical stress areas), and therefore can take more abuse. High performing, ice-specific picks with smaller cross sections are designed for easier penetration and less ice displacement. But does this ice-specific performance characteristic come at a cost of durability? YES!

What most people don't realize is that picks don't typically weaken by being slammed into the ice, rather they weaken from being removed. If you're a guy who buries his picks with each swing (like me), it's the levering motion of REMOVING the pick from the ice that puts a three-point bend load on the ice pick; the ice acting as a fulcrum. This repeated motion and loading can eventually cause a fatigue failure in the metal.

Several years ago, with the desire to obtain real comparative cyclic data on ice-tool picks, we created a test machine that simulates that loading scenario. We call it the 4-Banger—it's awesome.

We load the 4-Banger up, set to the appropriate load, and let it do its thing until the pick breaks, keeping track of the number of cycles. One thing to keep in mind is this is all relative testing—the test setup is consistent, but not necessarily correlating directly to real-world usage, so the data should be considered comparative within itself. Of course picks are also greatly weakened by torquing (but rarely break in this mode). To test this, we have torqued picks, followed by our cycle tests in the 4-Banger and found the fatigue life can be reduced by upwards of 50%.

We've tested and broken so many picks it would make a grown man with a gear fetish cry. We test all of our picks during design and development, and we test other manufacturer's picks as well. We test hot-forged picks, laser-cut picks, water-jet cut picks, machined picks, Aermet picks, and many prototypes using special materials or manufacturing processes.

As you can see in the graph, the thinner cross-section, high-performance ice-specific picks break earlier than the thicker cross-section mixed and mountain picks. Makes sense. This is true for every company's ice tool picks that we have ever tested. No company has a magic material or process that produces an unbreakable pick. Could we design and manufacture an indestructible pick? Yup. But it likely wouldn't perform well and no one would use it. So climbers are left with having to make a ice tool pick choice between A) high performance and compromised durability, or B) slightly more durable with a sacrifice of performance or weight—just like tires.

We sell thousands of ice tool picks (on ice tools and sold separately) each year (the majority of these are our ice-specific Laser pick). We see a handful back. All companies have ice tool picks that break in the field—no exceptions. I even know of some companies that have finally given up and discontinued their high-performing, ice-specific picks because they were tired of hearing complaints of them breaking.

Most reputable climbing gear manufacturers will CE-certify their gear. One interesting thing is that in general, there are no durability requirements for climbing gear—almost all standards are based on single-pull ultimate strength. So a company could, in theory, design and sell a carabiner that meets all the CE requirements when loaded once and then turns to glass, and it would pass all the current requirements. My point is, the CE standards don't count for fatigue. Up until recently there actually WAS a fatigue requirement for ice climbing picks, but it was removed from the standard because the data was so variable (as all cyclic data is), it didn't really tell you anything, and the test wasn't actually relevant to real world use. So it really is up to the manufacturer to find the balance between ultimate strength, durability and performance.

Many manufactures supply various pick options, and CE has categories for these picks. Burly picks, which used to be called T picks for TECHNICAL, are now are called Type 2 and are for climbing rock, snow or ice. More ice-specific picks that may not necessarily be as robust are formerly called Type B picks for BASIC and are now called Type 1 picks. These classifications are stamped on the pick for easy identification.

Here are instruction excerpts from four different manufacturers (including Black Diamond):

LIFESPAN

Under normal use (20 to 50 days per year), the lifespan of a pick on a Type T ice axe is 1 year. More frequent use or extreme climbing can reduce the lifespan of your ice tool. Some activities that would reduce its lifespan are hitting rocks, twisting the axe and pick, and drytool climbing on rock.

WARNING, certain extreme techniques using ice axes and crampons (e.g.dry-tooling...) are very stressful on the equipment. Levering or torquing the pick or the shaft can cause accelerated wear and/or failure of the equipment during use. This equipment may be used for dry tooling, but only on well protected routes. Ice axes used for dry-tooling should be used exclusively for this activity and must be carefully inspected before each use. Do not use your dry-tooling gear on adventure climbs. The material fatigue caused by dry-tooling could result in a catastrophic tool failure on a poorly protected route. This product must not be loaded beyond its strength rating, nor be used for any purpose other than that for which it is designed.

LIFE OF ICE AXE:

• Sporadic use with a seasonal concentration = between 5 and 10 years.

• Regular use throughout the year on difficult routes and some ice falls = between 3 and 5 years.

• Frequent, professional use on new routes and ice falls = between 3 and 6 seasons.

• Dry tooling, modern mixed, competitions = between 1 and 2 seasons.

WARNING: The materials do not last forever. Check the tool before using it every time and do not hesitate to replace it.

So what does all of this actually mean? It means that not all gear is created equal: some ice picks will last longer than others, but it depends on the type and frequency of use. It ultimately also means that gear doesn't last forever, and if you try hard enough or use it for long enough, you can break anything. It's up to you, the climber to check your gear, understand its limitations, and replace if it's getting worn or you're unsure about its integrity.

As it pertains to ice tool picks specifically, when I'm in the mountains I usually run a burlier pick. I'm usually not climbing as technically hard of ice and am more likely to be scraping around on rock, so I go with the Titan pick, a beefy, more durable all-mountain rig. But when I'm climbing pure ice routes and need all the help I can get to get up the thing, I use the ice-specific Laser pick. The Lasers penetrate the ice better, and are easier to clean, leaving my flailing arms with a little more gas to finish the pitch. If I'm on a long route, I'll usually carry a spare pick, although in 20 years of ice climbing I've still never broken a pick.

There you have it. Next up in a couple of weeks: crampons.

Stay safe out there,

KP

The Place:
Spray cave is the wildest place for ice climbing! You can see pictures, movies, people can tell you stories, you can even go and see it from a view point, but until you walk in to it, you know nothing! You do not have the smallest idea how big and outrageous it is. It is way beyond imaginable.

Routes:
As we came in this year, there were basically two routes on the main wall: the original Spray On and a project. Since there was so much more ice on the ground, the first pitch of Spray On was underground and we basically started on the second pitch. I was happy to be there with Tim and Will, so I had all the info that I wanted, besides the guys know a lot about this place, so I kind of felt safe.

We prepared both routes over the next couple of days, using the famous metal detector, crushing down big icicles... soon that place become more friendly. So it was time to do some sending. Tim and I did a first free ascent of that project (Wolverine), and on the next day I linked pitches 2, 3 and 4 of Spray On in my first go. I was quite happy with myself. Those two routes were by far the hardest and steepest ice climbing that I done so far.

But considering lots of ice on the ground, prepared routes, climbing partner like Tim; climbing felt a lot like sport climbing (But do not fool yourself, in a place like this there is no such thing as sport climbing).

What’s next: If you look at the Spray cave from a viewpoint, you might notice that highpoint of Spray On and Wolverine is not that high at all, there is still a huge amount of overhang climbing to be done, before one can reach the top of the cave. I knew what Tim had in his mind, so climbing to the top of the cave became our next goal.

Suddenly the nature of the game changed, we were venturing new ground. There were no bolts in front of us. We became explorers. We looked the wall from different perspectives trying to figure out where the line should go. But that is not an easy job. Anyways, since this is going to be the first route topping out, we must find the easiest way up.

So we started at the highpoint of Spray On, climbing towards left. Our goal was to reach a small cave under a big ice dagger. We manage to do that, climbing is not hard and technically, but Space Invaders Traverse is one of the best moderate ice and mixed climbing in the world. Climbing that pitch alone is an adventure worth taking.

Next pitch climbs steep rock with a tricky move to ice dagger and ice dagger itself. In a setting like this it is simply insane!
Lip Trip pitch climbs towards right. It is super steep, super exposed and it is not easy. It is so out there! The idea was to climb through the lip to reach the headwall. I was working on that pitch for a whole day, and it went well, until I was almost there. I ended up just 2 meters away from easier ground, unable to find any hooks for my tools... I probably spent more than one hour on that particular spot, looking for the right sequence, but I was still unable to figure out where the route should go. It was getting late so I called Tim on the radio, and we called it a day. It was time to go back down. Abseiling down on frozen ropes, over terrain that is so fucking steep, is an epic story by itself...

I already postponed my flight back home, but we were running out of time again, but this time out of bolts, too. It was the first time on that route that I was ready to surrender, but luckily I was climbing with Tim, so giving up was not an option.

We manage to get some bolts (5) but no hangers, and some ring bolts (4) that we could hand placed in drilled holes. With a small amount of remaining time and bolts we could not afford to make a mistake. Since there is no obvious line in the headwall, we would easily end up bolting a line that ends in blank rock. That would mean the end, and we really, really did not want that to happen. So, we opted to abseil from the top. We were back in the game!

So we went in from the top. Tim needed to abseil three times before he found a climbable line, and by that time, it was getting late. But Tim did not care about that so much, he just went down once more with the drill and headlamp. By the time he got down, it was dark already. Nevertheless, he managed to prepare the last pitch.

Next day it was my turn. I was trying to connect our highpoint to the very last pitch that Tim did a day before. The headwall that we considered as easy ground (and compared to the rest of the climb it really is) is still quite overhung, so there was a lots of swinging and hanging... anyways, after a whole day of working I was at the top again, having linked the missing part of our route.

The send:
We would need a rest day, but there was no time for that. We only had one more day. So we went into the route next morning and just try to do our best. Be focused, be efficient that was my mantra. I knew that we invested so much into this route that we will get some luck on our way up. I like to believe that it is hard to fail if you are so dedicated.

In the end we did it free! For sure we could do better (Lip Trip in one pitch), but we did our best! This is what it counts.

Venturing new ground, looking for new possibilities, looking beyond existing, creating new things, that was the game that Tim and I played. Topping out on the very top of Helmcken Falls for the first time, that was the name of our game. We named our route Spray On... Top!

I think that Spray On... Top! will soon be climbed in better style, probably repeaters will find it easier than we did, but I’m quite sure that anybody that will do that climb, will be surprised by the magnificent surrounding, exposure and scale.

Cheers,
Klemen Premrl

What really defined Steve, however, was his infectious love for the sport of backcountry skiing. The conversations last week remembering the great times with our good friend inevitably steered towards his undeniable excitement to be outside on snow, no matter what the conditions. In sharing his passion, Steve became a beacon in the Jackson Hole, Wyoming community. He was simply one of those people that made a profound impact on most everyone who was lucky enough to meet him, if even just once.

Knowing Steve meant learning a lesson about life. Steve never wasted a day, or an hour, and he was leading the life he dreamed for himself, which is the most any of us can ever aspire to. It's easy to see he died doing what he loved, but Steve Romeo's real legacy is that he lived doing what he loved. Live to ski—that was his motto. Thanks for the times, Steve. You will be missed.

-Your Friends at Black Diamond

A public memorial will be held for Steve Romeo and Chris Onufer at 6 p.m. on Tuesday, March 13 in the Village Commons (behind The Mangy Moose) at Jackson Hole Mountain Resort. Donations in memory of Steve and Chris can be made to the Bridger Teton National Forest Avalanche Center, Teton County Search and Rescue and the Jenny Lake Rangers of Grand Teton National Park. A Facebook page has been set up as a tribute to Steve and Chris and is a great place to write your own tribute and read other's.

The new Sprinter Headlamp has undergone a pretty healthy upgrade.  We changed the LED to produce more lumens and slightly more distance. The shape of the beam is just a bit wider, too. We changed the wire to go back to our original "coil" rather than the flexible wave which allows the user to fit the lamp onto helmets better.   The new charge system works with a wall plug or computer for charging in more locations and it eliminates the need to carry a travel kit. The red-LED in the rear also now can be tuned to be fast strobe, slow strobe or solid. If you wear the lamp backwards, the red solid light is quite useful for preserving night vision; we also made the red LED capable of being on without the white light. We also reduced the retail price by 10 bucks.

We originally designed the Sprinter to be used by runners. The beam is shaped to light up a trail or sidewalk with the peak intensity about 7 meters out. This seemed to be the appropriate spot that runners need to see the best so they can react to a change in trail condition or maybe something on the road. After we used the lamp a lot more, we found that it seems to be the go-to light for a much wider array of activities. The dawn-patrol crew here at BD uses it for ski approaches and it's a hit with the late-night bouldering crowd. Although not intended to be a bike light, I sure see a lot of them on bike helmets. The red flashing light in the back is ideal for getting the attention of groggy drivers.

With the rechargeable batteries, it's always ready to go at full power. We tuned the battery life to get 5 to 6 hours of consistent light output and for most runners this is more than enough. If you think you need more time, you can always dim it down a bit and extend that battery life by a factor of 3. Some would argue that the battery life is really "indefinite" since it's so easy to recharge and it is never really 'dark' for 24 straight hours unless you're in a cave. Ease of charging was a main design goal:  No need for any disassembly—simply snap on the charger and plug it in. Our lithium-polymer battery will last a minimum of 900 charge cycles, and even after that there is only a minor loss in battery capacity.

The intention was to have a lamp that is rechargeable only. This allowed us to create a very lightweight battery box which is small and offers the ideal balance of weight in the front and back. You need to charge this with a micro USB compatible charger. Solar charging is one way to deal with it, but there are also some AA powered chargers available for phones which would work. But honestly, this is not really a lamp designed for extended periods of backcountry use.

Well, that's a good one. I'm not sure there was anything necessarily "unique" to get this designed—we generally face the same fundamental challenges with all of our lamp products, which is to offer the user the most lumens per dollar, most lumen-hours per gram, and a light beam that is tailored to the activity for which the lamp is intended. We have plenty of runners here at BD for field testing and they of course really helped a lot in getting this thing right. Also, in the case of the Sprinter, as anyone that has replaced a cell-phone battery knows, those lithium-polymer rigs are not inexpensive. With the 2012 Sprinter, we were able to balance the cost of our battery along with our feature set to meet a much more attractive price—that was probably the biggest challenge in developing this product.

[Photo: Grant Gunderson]

— Evan

From:     James Kassay
Subject:     upcoming European travels
Date:     March 2, 2012 6:34:18 AM MST

Just thought that I would touch base and see how things are going in your part of the world...

Things here are great! Training heaps and it seems to be working as I'm feeling rather strong and very motivated!

Its now under 6 weeks till we head off, am heading straight to Europe for about 7 weeks, then to the US for a week and then finish off the trip in Rocklands... We are away for 3 months in total.

Did you end up using the last Hueco video I sent you? All good if not, just haven't seen it yet... If its not being used, are you happy for me to post it myself?

Chat soon.

James

“Climbing offers the space, both outer and inner, in which to achieve it. Ascent, whether it means rising in a spellbinding rock space or struggling inwardly in the death zone, is an Art of Freedom.” – Voytek Kurtyka

After Torre Egger Jason and I were really psyched but our bodies were not up for trying Cerro Torre. We decided to check out the South Face of Aguja de l’S, which had only been climbed once before by Crystal Davis-Robbins and Ryan Nelson in 2007. When you walk up the head of the Torre Glacier the South Face of Aguja de l’S is one of the first walls that is visible, a breaking wave of white and gold granite that gets steeper by the meter! Jason and I thought it would be the perfect challenge.

On Christmas Day we started the approach towards the South Face in perfect weather. The initial 500-meter "approach" is like climbing the Royal Arches in Yosemite but with zero people around. The climbing was very fun and never harder than 5.8. Jason and I soloed the first 500 meters in three hours to a large ledge that sits at the base of the “tidal wave wall.” A bivy wasn’t necessary but it seemed like a great way to spend Christmas! In December the nights are so short that an open bivy isn’t terrible and plus we had some whiskey to help ourselves endure. We could see headlamps on Cerro Standhardt as well as Torre Egger—everyone was having an adventure on this perfect Christmas window. The morning was cold and a few jumping jacks and some coffee was all we needed to warm our souls.

[Jason starting the 5.11 second pitch of Aguja de l'S.]

Jason and I could see the features of the wall very well with the morning light and we found a dihedral system that looked like it had gear and was possible for free climbing. We traversed off of the ledge that had we slept on and started climbing. We only had one 80-meter rope, which made for really long pitches. Jason led the first four pitches on wonderful rock, including an amazing 5.11+ stem box to a small roof with perfect finger locks! As I watched him fire off these amazing pitches I couldn’t help but think we were on the Astroman of Patagonia. The rock was buffed, with zero kitty litter and very little choss. [Jason leading a wild 5.11+ stem box, the crux of the route, Aguja de l'S.]

Jason gave me the lead and I found even more unreal climbing and followed steep hand cracks and corners to a small ledge. We were only one pitch from the summit ridge but it was a steep corner chocked with ice. I started up slowly placing lots of gear and making sure each foot wouldn’t slip. Alpine climbing always offers some sort of spicy wet or icy section! I finished that pitch and we were on the summit ridge with very easy terrain to the top. Upon reaching the summit we took our shirts off just so that we could say that Patagonia weather wasn’t all that bad. The summit at noon gave Jason and I plenty of time to rappel off and hike back to town for some well needed steaks and beers!

The Christmas window was a dream come true. We were looking forward to having some time in town to polish off our bouldering projects and enjoy the leisure life in El Chalten but the good weather wasn’t over yet. This time Jason and I wanted to climb the big one, Cerro Torre. The first time that I saw Cerro Torre I had to sit down and take a deep breath; there is a reason Reinhold Messner called Cerro Torre “a shriek turned to stone.” Cerro Torre, a mountain so steep on all sides that there is no easy way to its summit, is the ideal that is Alpinism. I personally find it so inspiring that there are some mountains in this world that are so difficult, so rowdy that it takes a lifetime to climb them. In my mind Cerro Torre is one of those mountains and it deserves that respect.[Jason leading to the Col of Patience, the Southeast Ridge above ]

Jason and I left our base camp at a very leisurely hour of 8 am and started our climb on Cerro Torre’s South East Ridge. We climbed the initial 300 meters of mixed climbing to the Col of Patience slowly, trying to conserve as much energy as possible for the rest of the route. We climbed in t-shirts under a perfectly clear sky with unreal views of the East Face of Cerro Torre. We felt pretty small under these impressive giants. Arriving at the Col with plenty of time to rest we set up a First Light tent to escape the midday heat.[Jason in the tent at the Col of Patience.]

Our plan was to rest at the Col and start as early as possible on the South East Ridge to give our selves plenty of time on the headwall. As the day went on we packed our bags and could hardly wait to get involved with the climbing on Cerro Torre.

My mind raced all night about the unknowns we were facing. Was this thing even possible? I thought about my own climbing and what it had taken me to be in this moment. Before we knew it the alarm went off and we were brewing coffee. The night was clear and cold but very calm with no wind. We started the first pitch at about 2:30 am and I led through the night short fixing and leading with the PDL (Pakistani Death Loop) as Jason jumared behind. I really enjoy climbing in the dark because you can only see what your headlamp illuminates and there really isn’t anything else on your mind. Over the past years I have climbed a lot in the dark and I enjoy more and more. When the sun started to rise the psyche kicked in and the speed increased. By first light I had lead about ten pitches to the base of the Salvattera Variation which avoids the first of Maestri’s bolts (the 90-meter bolt traverse) by climbing a fantastic knife blade seam at A1. The aid climbing went fast and the next three pitches were truly marvelous face climbing right on the edge of the world. The South Face of the Torre was just to the left and the East Face just to the right—one of the coolest places I have climbed yet!
[Jason follows the first pitch of the Salveterra Var in the morning light.]

We stopped at the base of the ice towers and re-grouped. Jason started leading the ice/mixed terrain with speed and efficiency, placing very little gear and short fixing. Teamwork is the key to success in the mountains and from our previous climbs on the Torres Jason and I knew that he was the better ice/mixed climber and I was the better rock climber. The leader’s job was to get the rope up as fast as possible and the follower’s job was full support mode, jumaring with the pack and dealing with the rope work. Towards the end of the ice towers there is another bolt ladder that leads to the base of the headwall, avoiding an ice pitch found by Josh Wharton and Zack Smith in 2007. This ice pitch trumps most ice pitches I have ever seen, it is long and steep, and the South Face of the Torre is right below. Jason led the pitch placing just a handfull of screws as I glanced over my shoulder and admired the Fitz Roy group in the morning light.
[Jason leads one of the many mix pitches in the ice towers.]

We reached the base of the headwall at about 10 am and the fire was burning deep. We looked up at the line of bolts that have desecrated this remarkable peak; we looked past the bolts and started to climb the natural features of the headwall. Steep large flake systems made the climbing very fun and athletic but still spicy enough punching it for the next gear placement. I led two 40-meter pitches at mid 5.11 to a ledge that sits right in the middle of the headwall. The bolt ladders floow steep and blank rock so Jason and I decided to forge our own path out to the left. I trended left on small crimps/flakes at 5.11+ to a short section of thin A1 to reach a bolt that was placed by Chris Giesler last year. I clipped the bolt and did the “king swing” of the Torre to the left side of the headwall.
[Hayden leading steep 5.11 on the second pitch of the headwall.]

At this point Jason and I were on totally new terrain and the rock quality had changed from the flakey granite to more buffed Yosemite granite, a very nice contrast. The next two pitches were outrageous, with an incredible amount of exposure and amazing face climbing at 5.11+ with short sections of aid due to icy cracks. I reached the top of the headwall and yelled into the wind—it was a dream come true for Jason and me. We raced to the summit and unroped for the summit mushroom; we were speechless standing on top of Cerro Torre.

I think that everyone has already read enough about what Jason and I did on the descent and it was what we wanted to do. We chopped 120 bolts on the headwall in an effort of restore Cerro Torre to its more natural state; we had the right to remove the bolts just as Maestri had the right to put them in. End of story.

This was my third trip to Patagonia and by far the most memorable both mentally and in terms of climbing. To summit all of the Torres in one month was mind-altering and has been a goal of mine since I first saw the Torres. Alpine climbing offers much more than just a summit; the unknown, the fear, the thrill, the simplicity, the obsession, the clarity and above all the pursuit of adventure is why alpine climbing has consumed my life. This year in Patagonia Jason and I had a lot of success but the Torres gave use much more than just a summit photo.

[Photo: Andy Anderson]

There's something about winter that I can never really get enough of. There are so many ways to indulge and enjoy a skiable snowpack, a climbable ice line, or the chilly refreshing hike through a dynamic wintery landscape. Although the movement of skis sliding through snow can be intoxicating, my deepest passion gets pulled to the beauty of frozen water trickling over the most vertical terrain, and the challenge of how it can be climbed. The natural creation of an icefall, curtain or pillar always intrigues me, as its medium is constantly changing, unlike a classic, and relatively unchanging and 'predictable' rock route.

My favorite place anywhere on the planet for winter bliss is easily the Canadian Rockies. There are multiple lifetimes of routes to play on at any level for the aspiring winter junkie. From the easiest of ice to a plethora of new routes yet to be climbed in the alpine and mixed arena, there is something for everyone.  
The Rockies have a huge list of routes that either rarely form or have only been climbed a handful of times. Joe Josephson's Waterfall Ice guidebook thoroughly will whet your pallet with detailed stories, route beta, and striking images that inspire adventure. One of my favorite routes that had been on the list for over 15 years is the notorious Fearful Symmetry, nestled back into a visually stunning amphitheatre called the Recital Hall. When Josephson and Brad Wrobleski found and completed the first ascent of the opposing Rainbow Serpent, it wasn't long until they finally ticked the colossal, double-tiered pillar.

A few years ago the rumor that Fearful had finally formed again brought excitement along with my usual inner torment of 'do I have what it takes to send that rig.'  This was going to be a wonderful trip as my friends Kolin Powick, Will Mayo, Jim Ewing and Ian Parnell were visiting the Rockies and keen to make the iniquitous drive into the Ghost, long approach and try these dream routes.

The drive was unusually uneventful as I and many others have experienced epic scenarios of getting stuck in stream crossings, icy mud bogs and snow drifts...all part of the Ghost experience. A beautiful clear day made the hour-long hike to the approach pitch of Aquarius pleasant. Since we were a crew of 5, the boys allowed me to solo ahead as they simul-climbed to meet me at the base of the Recital Hall. I hadn't been here in 8 years since climbing Rainbow Serpent, and I nearly forgot how the awkward circular shape of this box canyon produced its own windy climate.  The day prior, the late and wonderfully great Guy Lacelle had climbed Fearful for its 2nd ascent. An ice climbing master and mentor to me and so many others, Guy was glowing when he shared his experience of finally getting to climb a long standing dream of his. A few days after our ascents of both routes, Guy would come back to Fearful and solo it with the calm, cool and graceful style he was so well known for.

For me, the movement of gingerly swinging and hooking up the consistently overhanging and unprotectable ice was the most satiating feeling of that season. After a full 60 meters of rope, there were 3 worthless ice screws separating me from Ian, finally ending with the security of the belay. Bringing Ian up, I was able to watch Jim and Will work their way up Rainbow Serpent with focused precision. It was odd not being able to communicate with them, despite the close proximity.  The whipping wind made unusual sounds and occasionally mimicked familiar voices, adding to the surreal exposure of the Recital Hall.  After the free hanging rappel to the base, we trade routes with Jim and Will and share each other's experiences on the hike out. An hour and a half drive out and we were rewarded with Canmore's Grizzly Paw Brewery and food...

-Roj

[Jason Kruk following an amazing pitch on Torre Egger's Huber-Schnarf with great views to the ice cap.]

“If I talk about Cerro Torre and her sisters, it is as though I were talking about women. In my eyes they are the most beautiful. If we like a girl and in our own way of thinking she is the most beautiful girl in the world, and the more we look at her, the more we like her, why court anyone else?” – Ermanno Salvaterra

The Torres rise above the glacier like kings and queens, and as climbers we are the pawns in this large game of chess. I think of alpine climbing like playing a game of chess—no matter how much you think about one move there is always the chance that you will get sideswiped without even knowing it. But sometimes the pawns get lucky and for just one game the kings and the queens let their guard down.

Jason Kruk of Squamish, BC, and I met in El Chalten on December 9, 2011, for a two-month climbing trip. The first time I ever climbed with Jason was in Patagonia on the classic Supercanaleta on Fitz Roy, and ever since that route we have formed a very good partnership. Jason is smart and a very skilled all-around climber and I learn something new every time we climb together. A good partnership is the key to alpine climbing because once you leave the tent it’s all or nothing. The partnership is a bond that words can’t describe.

This was my third trip to Argentine Patagonia and Jason’s fourth. Both of us had been dealt some pretty rough cards in Patagonia, yet had learned that anything is possible. On my first trip to Patagonia in 2009/2010 there wasn’t a climbable day for six weeks. As I packed my bags for 2011/2012 I had low expectations and knew that we would most likely only get a few days in the mountains. Sometimes it’s hard to come to terms with the fact that the weather is just that bad in Patagonia, but it’s a gamble that I have always been willing to risk.

Within a week of arriving in El Chalten a promising weather window was already on its way and before we knew it Jason and I were hiking loads into the Torre Valley. We had never summited any of the Torres and we wanted to put all of our energy into climbing these spectacular spires. [Jason on the second pitch of the Exocet, just before we got super wet]

We decided to start off with Cerro Standhardt’s Exocet Chimney (500m 6a WI5 MI3), a classic ice/mixed route that climbs a very striking ice chimney on the East Face of Standhardt. Jason and I arrived at the Standhardt Col at first light and climbed the initial mixed pitches to gain the snow ramps that run below the east face. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and even though it was only 7 am it was already getting very warm. Jason started up the first pitch of the chimney and reached a small snow ledge were he belayed. The chimney was now fully in the sun but it seemed fine, so Jason started the second pitch. About half way up, the entire chimney started gushing with water. Jason stopped and I followed half the pitch before we were both so wet and cold that we couldn’t function. We descended to the small snow ledge that lent us warmth and cover from the super-soaker chimney. We used our slings and rope to create a clothesline to dry all of our gear and we laughed at what had just happened. The thought of bailing in such perfect weather seemed like slapping God in the face, so we decided to wait until the chimney went into the shade in hopes that it would stop running with water. We got to know that ledge pretty good, sitting there for close to six hours.

As soon as the chimney was in the shade we couldn’t wait any longer and blasted. The climbing in the chimney itself is truly spectacular ice and mixed climbing but although it was in the shade we still got wet again! We were on the summit at 7 pm and stoked to the moon to have reached one of the summits of the Torres.

[Jason leading high-quality mix climbing on Cerro Standhadrt]

There was still a day and half of good weather in the forecast and neither of us had climbed the classic rock route Chiaro di Luna on Aguja Saint-Exupery (750m 6c), so we racked up and the next morning we were off. The rock quality on Chiaro di Luna is perfect and the climbing is as splitter as any route that I have done in Yosemite. [Unreal granite climbing on Chiaro de Luna]

The simplistic act of climbing is truly special and its even more special for me in the mountains. We covered the entire 750 meters in about 4 hours and yelled into the wind at the summit. On the hike down we ran into Colin Haley and we all witnessed one of the biggest rock falls we have ever seen off of the right side of El Mocho—a sobering moment that reminded all of us that these mountains are alive.

Back in the comfort of town we rested, we ate, we drank beer, we bouldered, and we always keep an eye out for the weather. Climbing in Patagonia has changed a lot over the last 40 years and now all the comforts of town make life a little easier. I remember reading all of the old stories from Jim Donini, Ermanno Salvaterra, Jay Smith, Silvo Karo, Carlos Comesana and many more about the wooden huts at Camp Bridwell and of the epic stories of bailing due to bad weather. Sometimes I wish Patagonia were still like those days.

The resting period only lasted for a few weeks before the weather started to look good again. This time Jason and I wanted to climb Torre Egger but we knew from climbing on Standhardt that really warm temps weren’t the best idea. The climbing on the Torres is condition-dependent: since the Torres are closer to the ice cap the wind and precipitation affects the rock much more than on the Fitz Roy side. The rime ice that forms the ice-cream-cone-like mushrooms on the tops of the Torres often seeps with warm weather, making the rock very wet, and if there is to much rime on the rock itself the cracks are choked with ice and the climbing much more difficult. We hiked in a few days early in hopes of finding colder days and better conditions on Torre Egger.

On December 23rd we left our tent at 1:00 pm and hiked to the Standhardt Col, arriving on a windless, clear night. The Torres present themselves like giants in the moonlight and Jason and I were so stoked to get the chance to climb on Torre Egger! The unknowns that lay in front of us made the approach go fast as our minds twisted and turned. [Jason starting up Spigolo dei Bimbi on Punta Herron durning our link up of Punta Herron and Torre Egger.]

We climbed the Standhardt ramps all the way across to below the South Face of Standhadrt and rapped towards the base of Punta Herron. The idea was to climb up and over Punta Herron via the Spigolo dei Bimbi (350m 6b MI5) and then rap into the Col de Lux and climb Torre Egger via the Huber-Schnarf (200m 6b+ MI3). Jason led the first few ice/mixed pitches to the base of the rock climbing. As I was following I took a few moments to look around and enjoy the views, trying not get consumed by the scale of the spires. The rock climbing follows face features and small cracks, very thought-provoking climbing with small but good gear spaced far apart. The original line on Punta Herron was very icy so we climb more to the left where the sun had dried the cracks. The climbing was thin. On the first pitch I placed a knifeblade in a seam and as I was climbing past it my foot blew and I took a 30-foot fall. This was my first lead fall in the mountains but I tried not to let that conflict with the rest of the climb. I continued leading for seven more pitches before Jason took over and led the final mushroom. Due to the warm and dry summer the ice mushrooms were more or less just blue ice with very little rime/frost. This made the mushroom pitches much easier but nevertheless still unbelievably wild. [The first pitch on Torre Egger with Punta Herron and Cerro Standhardt in the background]

On the summit of Punta Herron we had great views of the North Face of Torre Egger as well as the awe-inspiring North Face of Cerro Torre. As we rappelled into the Col de Lux, the sky started to fill with clouds. The wind picked up and the ice from the summit mushrooms bounced down the rocky face and sometimes bombarded us. It can be very unnerving to have baseball-sized ice chunks flying by your head. I led four amazing 60-meter pitches to the base of the steep last ice pitch of Torre Egger. We switch from rock shoes to boots and crampons. All the while the sky is filling with darker and darker clouds. Jason leads the final pitch of Grade 5 ice with only three screws—good thing he’s a Canadian!
[Jason leads the steep final ice pitch on Torre Egger]

At the summit we are overwhelmed with joy and psyche for such a wonderful climb but shortly thereafter the daunting task of 1000 meters of rappelling hits us. Jason leads the rappels all through the night and we reach the glacier at 3:00 am and stumble back to our tent. The experience of climbing Punta Herron and Torre Egger was unique and very special for both Jason and I; we both free climbed the entire route and did it on a 28-hour roundtrip push. It was the best Christmas present that we could have asked for! But there were still two days of good weather in the forecast and we didn’t want to stop there…

[Photo: KP]

I just got back from a month of volunteering at the Khumbu Climbing Center in Nepal (check out the reports HERE and HERE). It was quite an experience to say the least. Crushing, however, was looking at all the amazing Himalayan peaks all day and not being able to climb any of them—I guess I'll just have to go back.
The stunner of course was Ama Dablam—just have a look—enough said. One of the Nepali instructors had guided Ama Dablam 18 times, so naturally I was grilling him for beta: not too high (6,812 meters / 22,349 ft), not too cold, climb it in the fall, kinda crowded, interesting and varied climbing, some fixed lines. Fixed lines? I immediately wondered what they used, what diameter, how heavy it was, how long it stayed in-situ, how it was fixed on the mountain, etc.
Ironically, as I arrive jet-lagged back in the office last week, one of the other engineers here here in the lab had a section of some sketchy looking rope on his desk. It turns ou that his buddy guided Ama Dablam last fall and took some of the fixed line off the mountain and sent it over so we could have a look and do some impromptu testing. Thanks to Peter Anderson for thinking of us, for the photos and congratulations on a great summit.
One of our crack QA engineers dreamt up a quick batch of tests based on how Peter saw this rope being used on Ama Dablam, including: single strand strength, testing with an ascender, testing with knots, testing on a picket, etc. Here is the quick run-down:

All tests were simple slow-pull tests to failure in our trusty tensile testers. Values shown are ultimate strength in that particular configuration and where the failure occured. Just for point of reference, a sewn sling must meet 4946 lbf to be CE certified.

[Photo: Peter Anderson]

We haven't really done enough testing or know enough about the actual usage in order to draw any firm conclusions but what I can say is:

There you have it. Be safe out there.

KP

[Photo: Peter Anderson]

From:     John Collinson
Subject:     Japan
Date:     February 7, 2012 12:36:17 PM MST

As everyone knows, the weather in the lower 48 hasn't been extremely beneficial for skiers this season... well, the ones that like soft snow, that is. So, as any one else would do, I accepted an invite to head over to Japan for three weeks in January. Grant Gunderson shot photos, and the other athletes were KC Deane, Carston Oliver and Adam U. We basically just choked every day, all day on the overload of snow. I really had no idea it could snow that much that fast. We were skiing three feet of new snow everyday, and it wasn't dense, watery snow… it was fluffy, dreamy shit. We basically spent three weeks living the dream. Deep snow every day, good food every night, and doing it all in a pretty cool part of the world. I definitely want to head back there sooner rather than later and explore more of what Japan has to offer.

As for now, I'm back on the storm chasing boat. Heading up to BC for a few weeks, try to get some filming done, and then crossing my fingers for an Alaska trip! I'll keep you updated on what I'm up to!

thanks man,
Johnny C

On the 27th of January I achieved the 3rd redpoint ascent of Illuminati (M11+ WI6+) in Langental (Val Lunga) near Wolkenstein, Italy. In 2006 my Black Diamond team partner Albert Leichtfried discovered this gigantic roof with demanding, runout final pitches. Already then I was keen on a repetition, but the ice in the upper part of the wall made itself rare. I tried for the first time in 2009 with Kurt Astner, but we did not climb any higher because the ice was lacking. I made another attempt in 2010 with the south Tyrolean (and current world champion) Angelika Reiner. This time the temperatures were too low. At -20° a M11 climb in thin gloves was simply not on. The ice was very thin again with the column just touching the ledge. With temperatures like that I did not even want to think about climbing a fragile column. But we never even got that far.

I could not get rid of the thought of Illuminati over the years. Enough of a reason to finally give it a go.
A call to my friend, mountain guide and ice climber Hubert Moroder from St Ulrich was enough to find out about the conditions. He said there was little ice in the exit pitches but that it might be sufficient for an ascent. I had to look for myself. This time, my girlfriend Lisi Steurer came along.

The tension increased. I could hardly wait to see the route.

Finally we stood below it. It was like a dream. The ice was shimmering blue, the sun shone on the summits, the temperatures were if anything too warm for the season. I felt I could do it today.

And I got over the roof, at the first attempt this time. We only climbed the ice pitches after the sun had taken its leave and gone behind the mountain. We did not want to expose ourselves, because icicles kept falling off.

Then I stood in front of the 20 m high ice column of one meter diameter and my stomach clenched for a moment. No screws, and over 20 meters of vertical climbing ... would my nerves do that? I did a bit of introspection, but it felt good inside. I climbed higher, above the tension crack and could finally set the first reasonable screw.

A little detour, and we reached the exit. We were jubilant, Lisi about passing her final exams, I about passing the Illuminati exam.

We thank Hubert Moroder (a good address for guided ice and mixed climbs) and his wonderful family for their hospitality and the accommodation at the Residence Lastei.

Where to next? Norway it is, and I'm looking forward to that a lot.

— Ines

Still in women’s long underwear, I was up early for the first of many hikes down the hill from Phortse, across the river, then up the hill on the other side to the ice climbs.  One thing about Nepal, there’s lots of up and downs.  Just like when my dad walked uphill both ways to and from school when he was a kid, that’s what it was like being based out of Phortse: a big up to get to the ice in the morning, and a big up to get back to the village at the end of the day.  At least it was a good way to try to stay warm.  It’s cold in the Himalayas in January—who knew?

My original waning hope of my lost luggage never arriving was starting to turn around (now 11 or 12 days in) with 3 of the 4 missing bags staggering into Katmandu. Hopefully by the time Renny Jackson and his wife were ready for the trek in, my last bag (and my clothes would show).  Meanwhile, it was time to head over to the ice routes for the Puja, or Blessing. The Lama from the village performed the ceremony consisting of chanting, burning juniper, tossing rice, and pasting each other in the face with some kind of flour like substance (none of which I really understood).  The bottom line, however, is that it was basically blessing all of the students and instructors. As well, it was appropriate to have some of our gear included, so I took the opportunity to have my helmet, ice tools and crampons doused with good spirits… I mean, why not? I can use all the help I can get while in the mountains.
After the morning Puja, it was then time to get the basic students harnessed up, tied in, and on the ice. As it turned out, that is a lot easier said than done…

With eight groups of eight basic students (each group having a lead and assistant Nepali instructor, as well as the six Western instructors floating between groups) there was a lot going on each day for the next week. Groups learning to walk with crampons, ice climbing, medical classes, rock climbing (during a snowstorm), how to ascend fixed ropes, rappelling, etc…. and all while trying to ensure we didn’t kill anyone.  Days were long, exhausting and oftentimes frustrating, but overall extremely fulfilling.  Seeing someone that has climbed Everest several times not know how to tie-in, belay or rappel is kind of horrifying…. But seeing them fully “get it” and light-up after demonstrating and then have them do it themselves is amazing.

Days were varied, but a few things were constant: walking and cold.  Down as low as -20˚C some evenings makes it tough to get out of the sleeping bag in the morning. The yak dung stove only goes for about an hour in the morning, and maybe two in the evening. The rest of the time it’s puffy jackets, hats, gloves, puffy pants… or walking to stay warm.  Well, walking… and food. One thing for sure, the hospitality of the folks in Phortse is off the charts.  Milk tea, black tea and great local breakfasts and dinners, and even catered lunches out at the climbs kept us fueled each day.  I had thought I’d lose weight while in the Himalaya, but with the amount of food that was always around, that seemed doubtful.

Partway through the Basic Course, Renny and Catherine showed up, and, yup, my last bag had finally arrived.  It had been the talk of the week, KP with no clothes, borrowing jackets and sleeping bags and wondering if my stuff would ever show.  I celebrated by having a shower (read: bucket of hot water) and getting out of the women’s underwear.  It was heaven.

As the students learned and honed their skills, in the back of everyone’s mind was exam day… This is no free ride. On day nine of the Basic Course, these students would be tested on everything they learned. The Nepali and Western Instructors were to be the examiners. Stay tuned for the results.

Trying to stay warm,
KP

From:     Alex Honnold
Subject:     Re: Trono Blanco
Date:     February 8, 2012 2:01:27 PM MST

Hey guys, just got back from a pretty exciting trip to Mexico with Will Stanhope, Paul McSorely, and Andy Burr. We went and checked out the Gran Trono Blanco in Baja California. Will and Paul had been there briefly 4 years ago to try climbing an old Paul Piana free route, the Pan-Am, but hadn't managed to send the crux dihedral.

We only had a week out there since Andy had to get back to SLC in time to take care of the family. That meant that we took full advantage of our time. The first day we drove in there, set up camp, and humped 1000 ft of line to the top of the wall. The hiking was no joke… it's some of the most rugged terrain I think I've ever hiked in. Big boulder choked gullies and granite walls and slabs everywhere. It sort of felt like being in an obstacle course… except with a heavy backpack.

The next morning Will and I got up super early to hike to the bottom of the Pan-Am while Paul and Andy rapped down in. The hike down was crushing but surprisingly scenic. As we got further down the gully there was more and more water, and eventually there were palm groves and cool plants. And we saw big horns, which is always exciting, especially in the middle of the Mexican desert.

{Honnold on the crux 5.12+ dihedral of Pan-Am]

I fell off the crux of the Pan-Am, a 12+ lieback/stem corner, but sent it second try. Will fired it first go on toprope, which was pretty impressive considering it's a really pumpy warm up. The rest of the route was just fun times. It was cool having Andy above us hanging out taking pictures. Makes it feel like a party.

We spent the next 2 days checking out an old aid line named the Giraffe. We rapped down and checked out the free climbing potential, scoping variations to bypass the bolt/rivet ladders. The top of the wall was pretty slabby and was surprisingly easy to free but the bottom was a lot steeper; it all turned out being heinous technical slab. Just off vertical. But it was doable at least.

We took a much needed rest day, then I climbed the Pam-Am again with Paul so that I could do a 2-pitch variation finish that I thought looked cooler (and Paul Piana had emailed us to recommend). While we were romping up the wall again, Will rapped in on the Giraffe to work on some of the crux pitches.

The next day, our last day in Mex before Andy had to leave, Will and I rapped our lines to the bottom of the Giraffe and climbed our way back out. Will mostly supported because his tips were blown and he didn't think he could do a few parts, but he managed to free the majority of the route despite carrying all our water and jackets and stuff on him. I fell on two of the hard slab pitches but sent them both second try. It was crushingly hot in the sun, making the thin slabs feel a little more desperate than usual.

[Photographer Andrew Burr notes: "Real and raw emotion displayed by someone is powerful, but when felt by all, it invokes surrealistic euphoria. If this photo captures just a small piece of that, then I have done my job. Shown here is Alex, completely stoked after completing the mega thin and bold traverse of pitch 5. While only halfway up the wall, this section was the last of the uncertainties. Alex answered—the wall will go free!"]

We topped out by early afternoon after freeing a new 10-pitch 13b. We all felt totally spent. We hiked everything back to camp, packed up, and headed pack to San Diego (where we'd carpooled from). For feeling like it's in the middle of nowhere, Gran Trono Blanco is surprisingly accessible. It was a tiring week in Mexico. . . I hiked to the top of the mountain 6 times in 7 days, and freeclimbed the face 3 times. I was really pooped when we got back.

Now I'm in Las Vegas for the next month or so, sport climbing a bit. It's a pleasant change of style. Maybe not quite as exciting, but sort of relaxing to just have fun climbing for a bit.

Hope things are going well in Salt Lake. Say hi to everyone for me,

— Alex

From:     Nicolas Favresse
Subject:     Off to the jungle!
Date:     February 7, 2012 2:23:43 PM MST

We just landed in Venezuela. We are super excited! We have just finished buying all our food and last supplies to go off into the wild jungle for 45 days of complete autonomy. Tomorrow morning, we take a small plane that will fly us over the Gran Sabana and drop us in the small Amazonian village of Yunek located at the heart of the tepuis. Four days of hiking will lead us to our monster big wall. Let's hope he is not too mean to us!

At least I spent the last couple months working on my fitness sport climbing in Siurana, Spain and the shape seems good. This winter has been incredibly dry and warm so it was perfect!  It was amazing because day after day I kept feeling stronger and the last couple weeks I gained some confidence for this trip by sending some nice projects of mine: Lola Corwin (8c), Pati Noso (8c), L'odi Social (8c)+ and Chikane (8c+).  

Unfortunately I had to leave Siurana with some painfully close unfinished business. But at least I have a good excuse to go back to Siurana and enjoy this beautiful place. Now it's time for a wild adventure;)

Thanks for the support

— Nico

You can follow our expedition on our blog : Xpedition.be
or Facebook page  http://www.facebook.com/xpeditionbe

During the first week of 2012, I had the opportunity to travel to Nelson, British Columbia to shoot a feature article for Swedish magazine, Aka Skidor. Without a flake of snow in sight I packed my bags and headed to the Great White North to meet up with photographer Garret Grove, editor Tobias Liljeroth, and athlete Chris Rubens. After pounding the pavement for 14 hours I arrived in Nelson. For the next 5 days I experienced the incredible terrain at White Water Resort along with some great snow conditions. White Water has a great, small-resort feeling that’s combined with an endless amount of backcountry adventures. After a week of shredding I was bummed to leave, and I can’t wait for the next chance to come back to White Water and ski again.

— Drew

My 2-month roadtrip in the States has come to an end. We toured a bunch of bouldering areas, some that I've visited before and some that we new to me. I flew to Denver and the next morning we went climbing in RMNP despite being jetlagged. Normally the season in the park would be already over in November, but lucky for us this winter has been unusually warm and we got to try a new project at Nicky’s.

Next day’s mission was to Poudre Canyon. The area is at a pretty high altitude and when we got there it was snowing. I wanted to try Circadian Rhythm (V13), but when we got to the boulders the problem had melting layers of snow and ice on the lip and it was snowing harder each moment. After a desperate effort to warm up, I cleaned the top the best I could while other climbers walked past laughing at my efforts of getting it dry. Pretty quickly I got the all moves down, apart from the icy mantle. Having just flown in from sea level, I had some problems adjusting to the altitude and every try I felt like I ran out of oxygen. When I finally stuck the crux dyno to the wet lip, I almost blacked out. After gathering myself I managed to pull off the mantle through ice and snow and topped out the problem! Could have been less epic but at least I’ll remember this problems now.

[Cleaning snow and ice off the top of Circadian Rhythm (V13)]

Time to go climb on the amazing black sandstone of Joe’s Valley where our goal was mainly to try projects. We worked on some really, really hard projects. Afters days on them it turned out most of the lines we tried were probably around V18 and one of the only projects that I was actually close to climbing broke—not once but twice—making it unclimbable.

Still, I managed to make some quality first ascents on at a little more modest grades. One of my best FA’s was Sandstorm. It’s a V9ish highball and about 20 moves long situated above the Right Sign area. Cleaning and building a landing for this was a ton of work, but it was definitely worth it as it is one of the most fun problems I’ve climbed in Joe’s. Big moves on good holds the whole way up. Down Jacket is another V9ish problem I put up to the right of Low Tide. Fun little problem. Another really good FA was Life of Fritz (a.k.a. Nothing You Can Do About It), a V11 in New Joe’s. It’s compression on a steep prow leading up to a techy slab that still needs cleaning. I also put up a dyno at the Battletoads area that I named Camouflage and it goes at around V10.

[First ascent of Sandstorm (V9)]

I did repeat some problems, too. I climbed the classic Black Lung (V13) on my 2nd try this trip. I had quickly tried it in scorching hot conditions last summer, but barely managed to pull on. On this problem conditions make all the difference. With colder weather I went from not being able to get on the wall to climbing the problem twice in a row fairly easily! I also did Blackout second try (which is around the same grade as Black Lung), flashed Gentleman’s Project (V11) and climbed Monarch after snapping off some holds because it hadn’t been cleaned properly.

[First ascent of Life of Fritz (V11)]

I’ll have to return a lot stronger for some of the projects. Joe’s seems to be the mecca of the very, very hard projects!

Next we were headed to Hueco. On the way trough Utah we missed our turn and had to take an alternative route. Ian, who was driving, saw big boulders by the side of the road and stopped the car. It was pitch dark, but Ian quickly figured out that we were at a bouldering area called Big Bend, so we got our shoes and did a night session. Me and Ian both climbed the classic Chaos and a heinous and techy highball arete that I later heard is a V11 and only has a handful of ascents! I also climbed the best lowball boulder problem in the world! It’s only like V1 and I don’t know the name, but it’s so much fun!

Finally, we made it to Hueco driving through an epic windstorm that had flipped several trucks on the highway. It wasn’t my first time in Hueco, but it was my first time there with decent conditions for hard climbing, so I was psyched! I finally got to tick some of the more condition dependent climbs like Terre de Sienne and Esperanza. I also gave the lower start to Esperanza a few of goes and fell twice grabbing the finishing jug. I left it at that since the first three moves barely add any difficulty and certainly not any quality to the climb. I also managed to climb Diabolic (V13), which has a famous kneebar sequence, without kneepads or kneebars. It certainly felt hard for me that way, but I’m not a fan of using kneepads and without one the kneebar doesn’t really work. Diabolic is very unique and it’s one of my favorite problems in Hueco! Speaking of favorite problems, we also climbed To Die For and the name suits the problem pretty well… it’s amazing! I also flashed Crown of Aragorn, the benchmark for the V13 grade, with basically no beta.
One problem that really stood out was A Tale of Two Gabors. This crazy problem was unrepeated for years until I made the first repeat this trip. The problem is the exact anti-style of typical Hueco climbing; basically manteling on slopers the whole way up the roof. This problem has one of the most bizarre and unique sequences ever and I won’t even begin describing it, but you can watch the video.

On our last day we went to West Mountain. I’d never been on West before, so we just toured some of the classics and climbed Shroom, Best of the Best and High Ideals. At the end of the day we went to Indisposable Heroes (V12), which is one of the proudest looking hard lines in Hueco. I had no beta, we were almost out of time and I was thrashed from climbing. I kept falling on the bottom trying to figure out the complicated beta when our guide told me it was time to go. I managed to send the problem on literally my last possible try of the trip! A perfect ending for my Hueco trip! My skin was in desperate need of rest after brutalizing it on the rough Hueco rock, so I couldn’t have been more psyched about getting to Arkansas, where the rock is nice and comfortable sandstone and there are plenty of projects.

On our first day in Arkansas we went straight to the problem we were most psyched on; Lost in The Hood (V14). After figuring out the exact beta, I quickly got to the top! Shortly after me Ian sent it as well! We managed to climb it very fast, but a lot of strong climbers have failed on it. It’s hard to say about the difficulty of this one. We had Cole, one of the locals, to show us some cool projects. One of them was an old project at the Heaven Boulders that had been tried by quite a few people. It had been tried with a sequence that involved big lock-offs on tiny sidepull crimps. I tried this way first, but immediately gave up that beta and started trying a massive double-clutch dyno past this whole section. I kept getting the distance, but not hitting the holds right. I tried it over and over again until I got the coordination just right and stuck the double-dyno and climbed it to the top! I named the problem Misdirection. I put up another V9ish problem in the same area that we called Flash Mode since I flashed the first ascent and Ian flashed it right after me.

[Grand Dragon (V7) at the Idaho Boulders]

Probably my best FA in Arkansas was Illusion of Safety (V13). It’s a massive arete at the New Font sector in Cowell protected by a steep slab landing below it. The sequence is complicated and it took us a good amount of time to figure out the final beta. You’ll want to bring all your pads for this one!! Another good problem I put up is called Better Babies Club. It’s a techy arete at the Idaho boulders and probably goes at around V11. Certainly more technical than physical. Besides my first ascents I also repeated some classic problems like Bloody Knuckles, Release the Squirrels, Anti-Hero and flashed Fred’s Roof. Possibly my favorite climb in Arkansas was Grand Dragon, which has got to be one of the best V7’s in the world. I’m psyched to return to Arkansas with more time to take care of some unfinished business!

I’ve been in Nepal for over 10 days now (too bad I can’t say the same for my four 50-pound duffels which were lost by the airlines).  I’m here volunteering at the Khumbu Climbing Center, part of the Alex Lowe Charitable Foundation.  The goal of the Climbing Center is to teach the locals who work or want to work in the mountains how to do it safely.  This is the ninth year of the Khumbu Climbing Center and I’m truly honored to be included as one of the six Western Instruction Staff.

After a joyous 45-hours of travel (where I picked up the funk), I arrived in Katmandu with three other Western Staff: Steve Mock, Mike Shaw and Jesse McGahey.  Unfortunately my bags didn’t make it.  I spent the next three days laid up in bed trying to recover from the funk and hoping my bags would show.  For some reason one bag showed—the one with my climbing gear… so that was good.  The guys had to head into the Khumbu while I waited one more day for my four bags. No luck.  Bags or no bags, it was now time to go, but I needed to make a quick pit stop to the tourist district to buy some clothes.  Unfortunately they had a limited selection, so I’m sporting some sweet women’s long underwear as I type this.

Pete Athans (another Western Instructor and all-around bad ass) and I headed into the Khumbu together.  With over 30 trips to Nepal (including seven Everest summits) under his belt and being fluent in Nepali, Pete was an ideal tour guide, especially for a non-world-traveler like myself.

A heart-in-your-throat flight into Lukla, and three days of walking through Namche took us to the village of Phortse and the home of the Khumbu Climbing Center.  I couldn’t have felt much more lame, carrying my seven kilo pack with camera gear as we passed porters carrying triple loads (91kg). Unbelievable.  To say the walk was spectacular would be quite the understatement.  I almost biffed it countless times as I was constantly staring up at Everest, Lhoste, Ama Dablam and Tawoche. Unreal.

Two days into the hike we got word that another of my bags had showed up in Katmandu. Unfortunately it wasn’t the duffel with my clothes; it was a duffel of donated gear for the school… still a small victory.  The final Western Instructor, Renny Jackson, would be arriving in a few days so he would be able to bring the retrieved gear with him.

We started off with a daylong instructors seminar, talking about consistent technique and proper use of gear.  Yesterday we sorted through all of the center’s donated gear (some which was a bit worse for wear) and began registering the 66 students as they arrived for the 10-day Basic Class. The curriculum including knots, belaying, rock climbing, ice climbing ascending fixed ropes, rescue techniques, map and compass work, geology, wilderness first aid and English classes.  A jam packed schedule for sure.

Word is a third duffel arrived today. Once again… not the one with my clothes… more gear for the school, but at least Renny would be able to get it before he makes the trek.

This morning was the opening ceremony including the welcoming and blessings, and then it was straight to work: knots and basic belaying.  Soon we’ll hit the rock and ice.  Stay tuned for a second installment… maybe by then my final bag will be found and I’ll be in some clean clothes. That would be nice.

Out for now from the chilly Himalayas
KP

Long recognized as one of the best avalanche forecasting centers in North America, the Utah Avalanche Center (UAC) has always held a special spot in the collective heart of Black Diamond. From calling in to the avalanche hotline in the early 1990s to receiving text updates on snow conditions and road closures today, Black Diamond employees (as well as backcountry skiers around the state) rely on the UAC for up-to-the-minute information on avalanche safety and snow conditions in Utah's mountain ranges, most notably in the central Wasatch. We recently sat down with UAC director Bruce Tremper to find out some of the history of the organization and what kind of issues they are up against in the face of one of the worst avalanche-prone snowpacks Utah has seen in decades.

The Utah Avalanche Center started with a telephone recording at Alta in the late 1970s and it became a fully funded Forest Service program in 1980. Since I came from Alaska to take over as the director in 1986, the program has grown from three forecasters to eight and has expanded outside the Wasatch Range to Logan, the Uinta Mountains, the Manti Skyline and Moab. The budget has grown from $60,000 annually to over $500,000.

In the beginning, the forecast was just a paragraph typed onto the National Weather Service computer and a 30-second recording with one phone line. By the 1990s even 16 telephone lines could not handle the traffic, and nowadays it takes the Internet to handle the full spectrum of demand with 2.5 million page views per year. Each year demand for our services far outstrips what we can provide.

We have not experienced a year like this in the 26 winters I have been forecasting. In fact, you have to go back to 1976-77 to find a season with less snow. Thin snow means weak snow (because of temperature gradient metamorphism) and this season we have an astoundingly fragile and deep layer of weak snow at the bottom of our snowpack. Not surprisingly, this past storm that slammed a heavy brick on top of the tortilla chips created the most widespread avalanche cycle I have seen in Utah. And it's not over. These are called "persistent" weak layers for a reason. They will continue to produce avalanches for many days after they are loaded with weight.

People in Colorado are used to this kind of snowpack, but Utah has not seen these kinds of conditions in many years. Unfortunately, many people are habituated to the very stable snow we had last season and they will just have to learn the hard way that steep slopes are just no-go terrain, most likely for the rest of the season.

During our last avalanche warning, we were very psyched that very few people ventured into steep backcountry terrain. The Utah Avalanche Center clearly saves lives during times of high avalanche hazard. Unfortunately, most fatalities occur when the hazard starts creeping down and backcountry travelers start creeping into progressively more extreme terrain. Persistent weak layers have to be matched by equally persistent patience.  Starved powder hounds don't do patience very well.

The UAC is a partnership between the Forest Service and the non-profit group the Friends of the Utah Avalanche Center. Only 17 percent of the total funding comes from the Forest Service. Over half the funding comes from private fundraising through the Friends of the Utah Avalanche Center and the rest from various state and county governments including Utah State Parks, Utah Public Safety, Salt Lake County and Salt County United Fire Authority.

The fundraiser party each September put on by Black Diamond is by far the largest fundraising event for the UAC, which raises over $60,000. It has the reputation as the best party of the year. Black Diamond has been a major financial supporter of the UAC for the past 15 years and we-and the backcountry community-are eternally grateful.

We find that people have an insatiable appetite for good avalanche information and education. But despite our best efforts, we just can't keep up. The equipment keeps getting better, allowing more and more people to easily access the backcountry and it seems like every five years, there are twice as many people venturing into dangerous backcountry avalanche terrain. We need help and lots of it.

We find that we don't have a forecasting problem; we have a marketing problem. We've had to learn the tools of marketing, social media, advertising, risk communication and videos production. We're avalanche forecasters so we've had to quickly reinvent ourselves. We need help to navigate this unfamiliar terrain. We're looking for help from advertising agencies, marketing departments, television stations, video production companies and communication experts.

To learn more about the Utah Avalanche Center, what they offer, and how you can get involved, please visit utahavalanchecenter.org

After restday, we woke up into still and foggy conditions, but it was obvious that the fog must diminish soon and the sun will show up on the sky. Warm up in Bas Cuvier was an incredible joy, doing the first 6A (Marie Rose) and 7A (Joker) in a sunny morning was a true pleasure. Kheops Assis was ticked off in a couple of tries. I went to L'Apparemment low start, an 8B in Apremont sector. This is truly incredible problem with insane typical-Font topoput. I had some problems, especially wet footholds at the beginning, but after an hour it was done. Just next to it, there was one more 8B, La Pierre Philosophale by Fred Nicole. A roof with hard fingerlocks, it was too much for the end of the day, Jacky was true claiming that this is one of the hardest roofs in Font.

One last day. My goal for the season was to flash an 8B+, but within autumn having too many projects, I abandoned this idea and gave it up for the year. But one problem came on my mind, Gecko. My friend Andrej Chrastina told me about it 5 years ago, when I did bouldering very rarely. Andrej was persuading me to go to Font to try this problem, saying that it would fit my style very well. A last day of climbing of 2011... why not give it a try to fulfill my goal of the year? All the other goals for the year I had already managed to fulfill (excluding competitions).

The day didn't start in the best way: after cleaning the gite and getting lost and searching for the bloc in the wood from a different parking, we arrived in the sector a little while after noon, already tired after the beginning of the day and after the climbing the previous day. I took some warm up, not feeling very well, but having a lot of psych thanks to cold conditions. I tried to remember the video from the previous night, asked my friends to clean the holds that I couldn't reach from the pads and I set off. First two moves were OK, then it was very hard to move left heel to the left. I was very close to falling, feeling that I was loosing a balance for a moment, but somehow I stayed on the rock. There is a one thing that I really love in climbing: heel hooking. And the rest of the problem is about awkward heelhooks and I felt pretty solid. The last hard movement I shrieked, but I was almost sure I would do it. I felt unstoppable at that very moment.

Concrening the grade I am not very sure, I would love to claim that I flashed an 8B+, but I am awkward to admit that I could climb that well. Considering the effort and how (not) fresh I felt, I can't agree with 8B+, at least for my height. Or was I really in such a good shape, especially when all the other repetitions had confirmed the grade of 8B+? I wish I were, but my own subjective feeling tells me something else.

The rest of the day we spent in Cuisiniere, where I had to climb Karma, the world-famous 8A. And despite humidity, mission completed. Duel, another famous 8A, seemed like an ideal end of the year, but I had to admit defeat in that humidity. Doesn't matter, the year 2011 was successful enough to make me feel satisfied and this trip will be definitely immense source of motivation for the next year.

Font is an incredible place and the beauty of climbing there was even better than I had hoped. It is definitely, the best bouldering area I have ever visited.

About the Copp-Dash Inspire Award:
The Copp-Dash Inspire Award will help support small teams tackling difficult climbs in the great mountains of the world who plan to personally document and share their ascents through a multimedia blend of storytelling elements. Proposed trips should be focused on unclimbed objectives in distant ranges and regions, requiring a high level of skill and commitment. Climbs should be done in a fast, light and clean style that stays true to the progression of expedition climbing. Proposed documentation styles can include any mix of photos, video or writing that will vividly capture the essence of the trip or climb. Proposed sharing of these storytelling elements could involve slideshows, viral film clips, magazine articles, multimedia presentations, etc. The Copp-Dash Inspire Award is sponsored by Black Diamond Equipment, La Sportiva, Mountain Hardwear, and Patagonia, and is supported by Alpinist magazine, American Alpine Club, the Jonny Copp Foundation, Sender Films, and photographers John Dickey and Mikey Schaefer.

[Photo: Grant Gunderson}

We get two main questions when it comes to mounting bindings on skis:

We decided to tackle number 2 today, and we'll leave the first for another day (for the record, BD recommends using a slow-set 2 part epoxy to mount your bindings).

A lot of seasoned ski techs have their own rules of thumb when it comes to re-using pre-existing holes (not recommended) or how close to drill. So we had our tele-charging, QA Engineering wizard, Andy Rosenberg, perform  our standard, not-overly-scientific-limited-data-point study to see what kind of differences we got when drilling holes and mounting screws varying distances from pre-existing holes.

Once again, this is not comprehensive, just some info—do with it what you will.

As usual, this is super limited data - there is much more that could be done to get a more conclusive look at the situation:

However, given this test, it looks like you may want to stay 7mm away or greater in order to attain maximum strength when drilling next to pre-existing holes.

There you have it. Pray for snow.

KP

I had read stories about Madagascar climbing for a while—news reports and films from years back when Lynn Hill quested there with a team of super strong women to open the hard route called Bravo les Filles (8a+/A0). Many of my French friends had visited the magnificent country (a former French colony) for climbing and other travel exploits. But my plans for a climbing trip to Madagascar never really came together until this fall.  For our honeymoon, my husband, Maxime Turgeon, and I asked for contributions towards an adventure to Madagascar.  As per our usual fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants style, we gathered a little info from friends, key names of local business men and women, towns, travel means, and then kind of “winged it” from there.

We arrived in Antananarivo, the capital of Madagascar. We would soon learn that all city names in Madagascar are long and unwieldy (and we sounded like bumbling idiots trying to pronounce the whole name), so the locals shorten them (e.g., Tana or Tananariv for Antananarivo). After a hysterically chaotic procedure of boarder control, whereby three or four people seemed to do something with our passports, hand it along the line until it came out the other side with the same simple stamp that you get in any other country with one person, we waited for our bags.  An hour and a half later, and a baggage conveyer belt that seemed like it was being powered by a human riding a bike connected to the belt behind the doors, like the Wizard of Oz behind his curtain, our bags all arrived.

Upon exiting the baggage terminal we met our host with our names scribbled on a piece of paper despite our two hours delay in arriving due to baggage issues and passport control.  We traded our money from Euros to Airary, which is like a 2700 to 1 exchange.  I stuffed the wad of cash, feeling like a bank robber, into my wallet and headed to the taxi.  Not knowing how things worked at all, we tipped the guy who pushed our cart about a year’s salary and headed to the hotel exhausted after a long travel day.  At the hotel we would find out that I mistakenly scheduled our transport for the following day, rather than the day after, and our journey would continue at 5 a.m. the next morning.  Though, we would realize later that it was seriously to our advantage to come in and get out of the polluted, chaotic capital as soon as possible (Upon our return to Tana we had scheduled a day to “visit” the capital into our plans, and it turned out to be living hell!  Scorching temps, hazy diesel fumes, and a taxi that was powered by a liter oil canister hooked up to a plastic hose, sat inside the taxi as the driver linked wires to spark the car to start and chain smoked out the window, our day in Tan was not exactly paradise.)

We opted for the private bus rather than the public bus to get from Tana to Fianarantsoa (aka, Fiana).  Eight hours of endless gingerbread straw and clay houses and rice fields later we pulled into the driveway of Gilles Gautier , owner of Madamax, one of the camps in the Tsarano region, and one of the first explorers of the big wall region.  We loaded his 4x4 truck with supplies and quickly continued into the Tsarano region in the fading light.  After a few more hours heading south and onto dirt tracks we arrived at the small camp of Tsarasoa, ate a simple dinner on a hand-carved granite table, and settled into our thatched hut for a well-deserved sleep.
Early in the morning, with an early rising sun, we were graced with the most spectacular view of endless Yosemite-style granite walls looming outside our window. We reveled in the site and rolled over for a few more hours sleep.  We spent the day planning our adventures, and flipping through the binder of topos of the dozens of routes lining the granite walls.

We spent the next week and a half exploring each formation that we could, and climbing the crystalized, clean, compact granite.  The routes are bolted in classic Michel Piola-adventure style, sometimes offering only five bolts in a 50-meter pitch on the easier grades.  You need to be prepared for proper adventure climbing despite climbing on bolts.  The routes are bolted more reasonably as the grades get harder.  The rock is so compact that there are very few crack systems and limited traditional routes.  We opted for exploring the classic bolted routes so didn’t bring a rack with us. If we were to return we’d for sure bring a rack to explore the next level of adventure climbs.  

We made the mistake of bringing a single rope with a tagline as we’d be sport climbing in the north afterwards and wanted to limit our baggage, but a set of double 60’s is really the way forward.  The crystalized granite provides for lots of opportunities to get your rope caught, as well as the “wigs“, so named by Max, of random growth of vertical bushes on the granite walls.

The wildlife is spectacular from the lemurs (a monkey-type of creature) to the dragon crickets (a spectacularly colorful cricket species that is as big as your hand), to dinosaur lizards (the biggest lizards you’ve ever seen) to pterodactyls that live in the walls and dive bomb to attack you as you climb past their nests (these are all for sure the scientific names).

Our trip out was not nearly as flawless as our trip in.  We gambled and we lost.  In hopes to gain a little more time in our journey north, we took a 4x4 to the nearest town, Woodenstock, and then waited for a public bus.  We spent half the day roasting under a tree waiting for a bus to leave; they come and go on no particular schedule. Once we finally boarded the bus, we spent another two hours driving around a one square mile town “filling it up,” despite being full—in my perspective—when we got on.  We finally left town with over 20 people sitting in 15 seats, chicken and goats on the roof, towering bags, bicycles strapped to the back, and it felt like I could have run faster than we chugged up hill.  We arrived about 20-30 km down the valley about six hours after getting on the bus, and Max spent the night itching with flea bites he picked upon the bus (from the stories exchanged with other public bus travelers, fleas are just the norm). When we finally made it to Fiana, 10 hours after leaving camp (as opposed to 2.5 on the way in) we opted for the private bus to get back to Tana.

Here’s the list of some good classics we managed to climb:

Peak : Vatovarinodry        Route : Croix du Sud 8p, 6b
Peak : Cameleon        Route : Skeleton 6 pitches, 7a
Peak : Tsaranoro        Route : Out of Africa 14 pitches, 7a
Peak : Karambony        Route : Pectorine, 7 pitches, 6b
Peak : Mitsinjoarivo        Route : Le Crab au Pince d’Or, 320 m 7b+

Logistics : Private bus from Tana to Fiana - apx. 120 Euros for bus 6-8 hrs.
Transfer from Fiana to Camp Catta or Tsarasoa - apx. 60 Euros 2-3 hrs.

Public bus Taxi bruss from Tana to Fiana - apx. 10 Euros + fleas 1-2 days.
Public Bus from Fiana to Ambalavao - apx. 2 Euros/person + fleas. 2 hours.
Public Bus from Ambalavao to Woodenstock - apx. 2 Euros/person + fleas. 2 hours.
Transfer from Woodenstock to Camp Catta or Tsarasoa - apx. 20 Euros 1 hour, no fleas.

There is also a small internal flight option from Tana to Fiana, but we didn’t manage to find out information on this.  Costs apx. 100 Euros per person each way, likely 1 hour.

Lodging : Tsarasoa :  Small rudimentary camp with camping or small hut options, no power, only solar and head lamps.  Solar hot water shower, toilets, and clean water from spring sources.  Option to bring your own food or have food from the cook.  Nice, low key set up if this is what you’re looking for. 20-30 euros per person per night with breakfast, lunch and dinner.  Food was horrible.

Camp Catta : First existing camp site built in the valley.  Options to rent small houses, huts, rent a tent with linens, or pitch your own tent.  Huts and houses are quite expensive, but bringing your own tent is cheap.  Huts and houses are upwards of 40 euros/night without food.  Bringing your own tent is around 5 euros without food, and using their tent and linens is about 25 euros/night.  Offers options such as beer, soda, french fries, lunches, etc.  Dinners are around 20 euros per person and there is no cheaper option. If you’re going budget this is a good option if you bring your own food.  No spring water, must buy bottled or treat your water.  This camp is often crowded with non-climbing tourists and karaoke nights!  It is frequently visited by tourists who come in on a 4x4 to explore the valley through a car window

Food : Best option is to shop in Tana or Fiana before heading into the valley, there is very limited food in the valley.  Camp Catta sells beers, soda, bottled water and other snacks, Tsarasoa does not.  There is a small market in town, I mean small, that has a few snacks, some beers, sodas and bottled water, but the closest town is 11km, and there’s not much more there, and the supplies usually come on foot if they are not for one of the camps.  Bring your own batteries, we forgot ours and it was not easy to find them!

Our second half of the trip was spent exploring sacred islands, clipping bolts on tufa’s and limestone, getting a spanking in our new sport of kite surfing, avoiding scorpions and crabs that liked to hang out at our front door at night, and enjoying the beach life in the north.  Breakfast was full of ripe mangoes and papayas, and dinner full of fresh fish pulled out of the sea daily by the locals.  There are a few places to visit for sport climbing in the North, all run by a New Sea Roc, and all relatively close.

The island trip is worth the visit.  A one hour boat ride lands you on a small, sacred island to sleep in grottoes built into natural rock caves, explore coral reefs with snorkeling gear,  clip bolts a two-minute walk from camp, and relax on the beach.  The island has a strict limit to number of visitors due to the fragile nature of the ecology and the effort to protect the landscape, so best to book in advance.

The last place we visited was the Valley des Perroquets, again run by New Sea Roc, just south of Diego Suarez where we slept in tree houses built into mango trees and explored a few crags with classic limestone tufa climbing.  There is also a site called the Montagnes des Français, which is not far from this site as well to explore but we didn’t have time.  Best to link up with a New Sea Roc for these destinations as there have been some reported muggings and thefts at these climbing areas.  I felt completely safe and was happy to pay a little money into the local economy to feel safe and looked after.

Logistics:

Travel: Fly from Tana to Diego Suarez or directly to Diego Internationally.  You can get a taxi to take you out to the beach camps, or in the town of Diego Suarez, hotels easy to come by in town. It’s about a 20 E taxi ride out to the beach one-way.  Most taxi’s can get you out to the beach, the Montages des Français, or the Vallee des Perroquets, it’s about a half hour drive from town.  

Lodging: Lots of cheap hotels in Diego Suarez for about 15 euros/night.  Food is cheap in town if you eat local, plan on 15-20 euros per meal if you eat Western food.

Islands: Islands have to be booked through New Sea Roc and have limited places.

Climbing: Topos are available on the  New Sea Roc site, and at the Vallee des Perroquets camp and the Island camps.

We went to Bas Cuvier parking where we had a meeting with the man of the forest: Jacky Godoffe. It was very inspiring to see him bouldering, being as psyched as ever even after so many years in the forest. I wanted to do some real classic and that is definitely La Merveille (8A). This is amazing prow with the high, but safe crux on the top. Jacky gave me some good beta and I flashed it! Funny thing was that when I latched the lip, I got just slopper a couple centimeters below the real jug and hung there for a second, having no clue what to do or if I was about to fall. From the ground, I might have seemed pretty relaxed and I heard Jacky as a spotter saying OK and going away. In that moment I squealed a desperate “No!“ and I felt that my spotter returned and I could stabilize myself again to do a final bump into the real jug. The end of the day was spent by trying C'etait Demain, the first 8A in the forest in 1984 and also established by Jacky. This was a hard one, and I spent about 20 tries on it, trying and trying again and getting desperately close to doing these two crux moves. Jacky tried with me and we had a plenty of fun, laughing at the precision and coordination this problem requires. In the end, I made it up this blank overhanging wall.

It took five hours us to get up to 400 meters. After having a good night sleep we woke up to the reality that there was not enough snow to skin up to the glacier. We decided to give it a good try however and started to approach by carrying the skis. During the approach I found out that the rain and the wind from yesterday had made the snowpack unstable—I witnessed two avalanches coming down from the direction we were heading. Besides that, carrying the skis took more time than expected, so when we hadn’t got to the start of the couloir by midday I made the decision to back off. I got some fine turns in the glacier anyways and had a look for the most amazing ice cave I’ve ever seen.
Next day we returned back to our accommodation at Sörheim Brygge in Lyngseidet. Great accommodation along the seaside with sauna was a reward for spending two nights in the tent. For the next day we decided to give a try to Tamok valley.

Tamok proved to stand for its reputation providing us good skiing with snow enough to ski from bottom to up. On second day in Tamok, I skied a couloir named Öksehögget (“The axe scar”), a 500 meters, vertical, beautiful couloir with average of 40 degrees. The snow was firm but perfect to ski, a final reward for the slight set back of Jiehkkevárri.

[Öksehögget—steep and dark]

The skiing for me is not about accomplishment. It’s about listening of nature and adapting to the conditions. This was another perfect skiing trip—the reason why I’m skiing.

— Antte

{Photo: Andy Anderson]

For the weekend warriors amongst us, it can be difficult to squeeze in all the ascents, seasonal goals and adventures one might like, particularly in a place like the Wasatch where a lifetime doesn't offer enough time to complete them all. While that's a tough life to lead on the weekdays in March where 16 inches seem to fall every night, we are fortunate enough to have jobs, and as they say, "If you're lucky enough to live in the mountains, you're lucky enough."

Having said that, when the winter is almost over, and there is still a long list of lines to ski, sometimes you've just got to stretch the daylight hours-or wear headlamps for a little longer. Such was the case for Jay (BD Sales Rep), Bob (BD procurement engineer) and I on a dawn patrol of the Pfeifferhorn, one of the most iconic and remote peaks in the Wasatch, in late April of last year. Given that we all needed to be into work by 9am, the sun wasn't going to truly be up until about 6:30am, and that the approach to the couloir would take us about 5 hours, we decided that a 1:30am meeting time would just have to do. While I'm sure Jay was able to close his blinds and fall asleep promptly at 5.30pm, the minute after returning home from work, I distinctly remember crawling into bed at 9:30pm and thinking to myself, "this is going to be a long night."

And so at 1:30am sharp, we headed up Little Cottonwood, coffees and Mate gourd in hand. After leaving a car at the base of Hogum Fork, we headed up to the White Pine trailhead to begin the tour. The night was cold and clear, the stars were out and although tired, the stoke of being out in the quiet night air got us all fired up to go. From White Pine we toured through the Red Pine drainage and finally into Maybird Gulch, stopping every so often to catch our breaths or allow Jay to take a sticky swig from his self-created Hammer Gel concoction. While Bob, a tried and true Montanan, opts for the simpler choice of water and pocket nuts, these two are speed demons on skis, and about the greatest ski partners a girl could ask for. Just the three of us out in the still darkness, having the entire mountain all to ourselves felt like the ultimate privilege in the company of great friends.

At about 4am, we climbed out of Maybird and headed toward the knife-edge ridge that leads to the summit of the Pfeifferhorn. With a little bit of a crosswind, mixed snow and rock exposure, and still relying on only the lumens of our headlamps for light and balance, it was at this point that my adrenaline really started pumping. Jay paved the way across, setting a nice boot pack where possible and Bob followed behind me making idle conversation to keep the mood light and distract me from my nerves. To my relief, we quickly moved across the ridge, and started our way up to the summit.

At about 5.30am when we crested the final rise, pink hues were beginning to warm the sky above Baldy to the east and we watched a magnificent sunrise flood towards us.

Without too much time to spare, we ripped off our skins, threw on some warmer layers and prepared for the reason we'd been hiking up for nearly 4 hours—the ski down. The Northwest Couloir drops from the summit in an hour-glass shape, and features two steep sections separated by a tight choke which in a typical snow year requires a rappel. Bob headed down the exposed top section first, taking extreme care to check the snow stability and avoid icy patches that could easily send you sliding down the high-consequence terrain below. Fortunately there was enough snow that we didn't need to take off our skis for the rappel, and one by one, we lowered off the bolted anchors above the cliff. When the three of us were down, there were some quick high-fives and hollers before we opened it up on the creamy apron below. Down the apron, through the flats, and into the trees we went, navigating our way through Hogum Fork. The snow was good, the sun was warm and the three of us were nothing but smiles.

The only glitch we ran into on the whole excursion was the final river crossing to get us back to the car. While a summer jump from rock to rock might be quite fun, it becomes a little more challenging when ice build-up on the bottom of your boot slips on the ice-covered rocks serving as your bridge to safety.  Bob finally decided enough was enough, and instead plunged calf-deep and trudged through the river.

[Photo: Susannah Pratt]

By 8:20am, a little bit tired, a little bit wet and a lot of hungry, we were back at the car. We made one quick mandatory stop for a greasy breakfast burrito, and by 9am the three of us were at our desks, ready to commence the work day. While I can guarantee you it was not my most productive of days, as I sat in front of my computer screen recalling the epic morning my friends and I had just had while the rest of Salt Lake City slept, I was reminded once again of the truth of the French idiom "Le monde appartient à ceux qui se lèvent tôt"-the world belongs to those who get up early.

-Susannah

Well, another Ouray Ice Festival has come and gone – 2012. It never quite makes sense what specific events imprint in my brain and stand the test of time. As I reflect upon the last few days, I wonder about what will stay with me and what will be forgotten.  A lot has happened, and a lot of emotion. Success, failure, happiness, anger, peace, unrest. Let me admit that in the last months, I have been confused, at a loss about how to confront the uncertainty of life.  I am impatient and ambitious, and ruthlessly critical of myself. I’m an idealist and a perfectionist. When there is direction, all of these traits serve me well, but when there is change and unpredictability, I struggle.

Last week, I onsighted an M11. I don’t know who has ever done that before me, but I think it’s rare. Maybe it’s my proudest climbing achievement to date. Yet, it was anti-climactic, and I know that I am capable of more. I had it in my mind that I wanted to try, and I thought it possible, and I did it. It was seemingly good timing, as it was just days before the Ouray Ice Festival.

As I had 364 days since last year’s event to think and prepare for the mixed climbing comp, I decided to try a different approach, which would hopefully provide a better result than 2011.

Leading up to, and on the comp day, I was just living life as usual. Nothing special, no preparation. Just treating it like another day out climbing: wake up, dress, eat, drive, walk, warm up, rap down, tie in, climb. I climbed well, swift and strong. Then a little visit from Lady Luck… I placed my left pick back in a deep crack, and it snagged something. I tested it downward, and then side-to-side. I pulled hard on it, but I could not see it. “Ok, go,” I told myself and moved my left foot. As I was moving my right foot, the hold broke, and I was airborne. And… well there’s no “and.” That was simply it…

What games do we choose to play, and what are the rules? How do we react when the unfairness rears up? Life is a game, and there are times when it isn’t fair—either by (insert your own deity’s name) design or through complete randomness. It doesn’t matter; some things no one knows. Like who gets cancer… all that we can do is try and live our best through definitions and priorities that we select… so, who gets cancer?

Bean gets cancer. Bean Bowers. I never met him. I know nothing about him, except he was dear to people that are dear to me. When I was told that there was going to be a memorial for him and others that (Sunday) afternoon at Ouray, I was compelled to attend. I listened intently to the stories told about Bean and the others that were lost in 2011, and before. Their names were all around us as part of the shrine next to the upper bridge above the Ouray ice park. I was soon tearing up and trying to swallow the lump that was rising in my throat.  I knew very few people at the memorial, and none of the departed whose lives we were celebrating. Still, I felt so close to them. As I write these words in a coffee shop in Boulder, my eyes are filling with tears

I suspect and hope that long after I forget the day that I onsighted M11 or broke a hold in the 2012 Ouray Ice Comp that I will remember the memorial group and the setting, their faces, and words, that I will remember the feeling, and the love and connection to those that were there in physical form, and those that were not. Climbing is just a vehicle to these moments. It does not matter how you climb, or what you do. I may have lived some life and done some climbing, but I am a novice at both—making the dumbest mistakes, choosing the stupidest priorities, applying the most inappropriate definitions. I was drawn to that memorial gathering, because I needed the reality check that only death and loss can bring, to remember the things that are truly important.

So, here’s me, apologizing for my errors and reconsidering my path. Thanks to the Ouray Ice Festival and everyone there.

— Sam
www.bookofsamuel.com

We wanted a crampon that climbed ice like a sticky rubber rock shoe climbs rock. This meant a monopoint crampon that was as stable as a dual, and had traction no matter where you stepped on it.

Hard ice climbing and mixed climbing of all kinds. The Stinger has been developed and tested by our global climbing team on serious new routes all over the world, including a first ascent on Hispar Sar in Pakistan. Mono points allow you to follow your tool placements with your front points (tracking). Monos are also lighter and better for climbing rock because they fit in cracks and on small holds.

What are the main features that set the Stinger apart from other monopoint crampons on the market?

Using stainless steel is the biggest thing; it wears better, sheds snow better, and doesn't rust when compared with CrMo steels typically used in crampons. The stainless steel we use is also 3 times more expensive, but it is worth it. The Stinger has a front point that easy to replace and inexpensive, and this is a big advantage considering how quickly the front point wears compared with the rest of the crampon. We also positioned the secondary points closer to the front points providing much more stability, and we added a massive amount of point serrations giving traction in all sorts of situations where a normally configured crampon would leave you slipping.

What design features have been incorporated to accommodate modern mountain boots?

A new, narrower toe and heel bail have been designed with modern boots specifically in mind. We will still stock our older wide bails for those with older boots that still have plenty of life left in them.

Were there any unique challenges encountered by the design team when building the Stinger?

The biggest thing is the spectrum of boot models and boot sizes that crampons need to fit today are as broad as ever and it just gets bigger every year. It is a real challenge. The second is creating a light and strong crampon with a full ABS system that does not compromise on climbing performance. It is too easy these days to sacrifice real performance to save a little weight and we don't want to fall into that trap; performance has to be king.