Eric stemming and Erik Shimmying the great chimney (Photo: Marco Bergamo)

Not every climb forces me to take inventory and reflect on my faith and the things that are most dear in my life, but the climb I just returned from in the Swiss Alps has done just that.  The Alps?  They seem so serene, so tamed, so first world with fine wine, good meals, huts and yodeling.  The Alps are not where I would expect to narrowly miss a catastrophe.

As a climber my bookshelves are full of climbing guide books describing routes in the most beautiful mountain ranges all over the planet.  The lines inside describe everything from short and sweet local climbs to the most intense, arduous, physically demanding and extreme expeditions imaginable.  The stories behind a number of the first ascents are of heroism, exploration, bravery and tragedy.  The names behind them: heroes of the sport much like Babe Ruth is to baseball, these names are to climbing.  One such name is Riccardo Cassin.  Cassin is a name that is branded not only on outdoor equipment, but on great mountains in great ranges around the world.  He was a very prolific and strong climber and when trying to repeat one of his routes you know you are in for an adventure.

The Piz Badile is known as one of the great summits of the alps and prominently displays one of the alp’s six great north faces.  It shares this title with it’s more famous counterparts the Matterhorn, Eiger, Dru, Grand Jorasse, and Cime Grande di Lavaredo, a veritable who’s who of mountains.  Mountaineers dream of climbing these faces and put their years of training, expertise, and fitness to the test when attempting one of them – even in this modern age they still present a massive challenge that most never take on.  I took it on at the invite of my blind friend Erik Weihenmayer.  We have climbed around the world together for the last twenty years, and have even stood upon the summit of Everest together.  This would be yet another great challenge for a blind athlete, as well as for one that can see just fine.  Erik told me before we left that he had hurt the tendon in his ring finger and that “fingers are a critical part of climbing.”  I replied “last I checked so was eyesight!  Why should a finger stop us?”

Erik brailing his way up the Cassin route

Training complete, finger taped, gear packed, we headed to Switzerland to meet guide and friend Marco Bergamo and then climb the Cassin route on the Piz Badile (pronounced Bah-deal-eh – or as Siri says “Piz Big Deal”).  This 3,000 foot granite wall is about 22-27 pitches depending on the length of rope used, and goes at a difficulty of 5.10a.  This rating means that portions of the climb would be overhanging, holds would be small, and with a twenty pound pack it would stretch my abilities pretty good especially since I would be holding on to things longer, and looking behind me to help my friend as he would “braille” his way up the climb.  Marco came over from the Dolomites where he had climbed with Erik before.  We would use Marco’s speed and strength as our asset in setting the rope.  This would enable me to climb just a few moves above Erik so that together we could move up over the difficulties and communicate our way through the crux moves.  It was on one such traversing move that I could not see well enough to let Erik know where the hidden hold was.  Eight hundred feet above the glacier and valley floor I gasped as I saw Erik’s foot slip off the tiny edge where it had momentarily found purchase.  As if in slow motion, I saw my friend take flight out into space, twenty feet down and twenty feet over he fell, slamming into the wall below with a thud and a grunt with just 8.5mm of cord holding his 185 pounds from hitting the deck way below.  The gear we use is solid, but on a big mountain falling is to be avoided.  It was still early on the climb and the hardest parts were yet to come.  I wondered if we could pull this off, if maybe his finger was the problem, or if maybe it was me and poor communication.  Full of adrenaline masking the pain of a possible broken rib, Erik climbed back up and continued the climb.  I paid closer attention as we moved up cracks jamming hands and toes inside, over smooth faces standing on edges the width of a dime at times, and then into chimneys requiring us to sacrifice our bodies to shimmy up and to stem out wide into the splits, one foot on each wall thousands of feet above the floor – breathtaking.

Breathless and tired we emerged on the knife ridge thinking the difficulties were over, but with the cold wind and intricate terrain we still had two hours to go of navigating what I would describe as a dragon’s back, with three thousand feet of air on either side.  Exciting doesn’t begin to describe the feeling, especially with the nerves that rattle me knowing I am responsible for Erik’s well being and nearly every step he takes.  Thanks to Marco’s efficient leadership and skill we arrived at the summit in thirteen hours.  We awoke from our bivouac on a ledge below the face at 4:00 a.m. that morning.  Having shared an ultralight sleeping bag with Erik to save weight, (he assured me the soft squishy thing was his camelback, not his belly as we spooned for warmth) but not shivers, we set off to start the climb at 5:00 a.m. and were soon passed by fast moving, unroped Euros, who had the benefit of eyesight and headlamps.  Now 6:00 p.m. we were tired and hunkered down inside a tin tuff-shed atop the summit.  We had done it!  Success!  We had achieved the dream – such a sweet feeling of accomplishment, teamwork, trust and perseverance.

With faith, as with perseverance, the story is never really ever quite finished.  Keep your eyes open and keep on pressing on.  We had a long arduous descent ahead of us upon which when we began the mountain next to us collapsed.  Piz Cengalo (chain-ga-low) calved off 4 million cubic meters of granite – the equivalent of about 500,000 dump truck loads.  This caused a massive landslide of rock, mud and debris to run the length of the valley, decimate the trail and small mountain road used for access, destroy homes, bridges, and bury the small mountain town of Bondo Switzerland.  One hundred people had been evacuated from town prior to the destruction, eight climbers/hikers were missing and our rental car, with our passports, was now cut off, but thankfully not destroyed.

A climber ascends the north ridge as the landslide begins (Photo: Guy Mevellec)

Our celebration of the climb quickly turned to feelings of shock and sorrow, my prayers of thanks turned to prayers for help for these people as I now began to see the miracles around me.  Many different decisions and scenarios could have put us in the path of this destruction, but the one we followed kept us safe.  Marco’s new truck remains trapped indefinitely at the trailhead with the road wiped out below it.  An escort by the fire chief allowed me to recuperate our car and passports, drive through the narrow path cleared of debris, pick up Erik and Marco, and pass the Italian border just before another slide once again closed the road behind us.  We were all thankful for the prayers of those at home.  As soon as our wheels hit the tarmac here at home, Harvey unloaded on the city of Houston and my knees again hit the floor as prayers were sent heavenward.  The success of the climb seemed to lack any importance or relevance at all with these tragic events wreaking havoc around us, but I guess what doesn’t change is the fact that if it doesn’t kill us it makes us stronger, more is demanded of us and our faith, we help each other out, we pitch in, we don’t give up, we carry on, we persevere and we pray.  Making it or missing it, the margin in life is narrow regardless of what we do and where we live, it is important to take hold of those we love, those we call friends, shoot even strangers and let them know they are loved – let’em know it and don’t be afraid to show it.

Driving through the debris

In Bondo and in Houston I have seen people climbing higher, not just to escape the flood, but heroes emerge showing their true mettle.  That, after all, is what climbing higher is – shining through in character in the midst of adversity.

Keep climbing higher!

Ultra-Runner and Trader Joe’s captain Mike McGinnis at mile 88 of 100 on the West Rim of Zion National Park nearing completion his second Park traverse in 4 days.

A traverse in climbing is a horizontal move from one position to another that allows for continued upward progress along a route or wall where otherwise progress would have stopped – dead end.  A traverse can also be defined as movement along a ridge, a mountain range, or a geographic area, but one thing is required for a traverse and that one thing is to move, leave the security of your position and venture off to the unknown.

Recently I had the opportunity to complete the classic Zion Traverse with my ultra-runner friend Mike McGinnis.  We would start at the West end of this beautiful and amazing national park and cross the 50 miles of its rugged rims and canyons on foot carrying the bare minimum of what we would need to survive and pop out on the east end

with 13,300′ of elevation gain and loss along the way.  My intent was to run as much of this as possible, but at a relaxed two day pace so as to enjoy as much of the park as we could.  Well the plan changed when a sinus infection took hold of my airways, lungs, and balance and threatened to steal the experience away from me all together.  I had a choice: lay in bed at home and feel miserable, or move, go, traverse.  It may be slow, but at least I will blow snot rockets and feel miserable in one of the world’s most beautiful places.  So armed with shot blocks, salt tabs, and a handful of NyQuil/DayQuil tabs to the traverse we would go.

Making this decision to move opened my eyes to other traverses we make in life.  Career, family, community, pretty much any aspect of our lives could be in need of a change of direction, and one thing that is certain is that it will have its obstacles and challenges, its ups and downs and its unknowns.  Circumstances can keep us from moving, the way we feel, fear, laziness and the list goes on.  Changing direction and going from one place to another will not be easy.  So “suck it it up” I tell myself all watery eyed and sneezy, keep moving one step at a time and with a little help it can be done.  A traverse, just like life, is a journey and it may not always unfold the way we envision as the route may change, the style, and unexpected joy and trial.

Instead of running we speed hiked, instead of staring at the ground ahead we took in the view around, instead of blazing by others we made conversation and new friends.

We finished the traverse, it broke me down and it made me stronger, it opened my eyes and demanded I walk by faith, I learned new things and even now as I grow older I can say I grew.

Is it time for you to take on a traverse?

Blind climber – Erik Weihenmayer climbs the Hillary Step

The climbing season on Everest this year unfolded with amazing climbs of inspiration and also of loss.  Alpinists accomplished heroic feats using strength and skill, while heroes possessing untold strength and skill were lost to it’s unforgiving and cold indifference.  Many state that even the mountain itself has been changed, that a place of legend and lore, the Hillary step, has been shaken loose from it’s lofty place on the mountain and in history.  Looking back on my climb of Everest years ago, I am still thankful for the dedicated team that put themselves second time and time again to see that others succeeded and were taken care of.  It was a climb for the ages that inspired many towards their own Everest-like goals and achievements.

This year I am again inspired by the likes of Kilian Jornet and his record setting oxygen-less speed ascent, Andy Holzer and the second blind ascent (first on the North side), Charley Mace my old teammate going back after having been rocked by the earthquake in 2015, and even a man with hemophilia – Chris Bombardier – who dared to go in spite of the many sharp objects that could mean disaster at altitude.

I take joy in these inspiring accomplishments of others and at the same time am saddened by the loss of life.  Seven people were confirmed to have died on the mountain this year, and among them was superstar alpinist Ueli Steck.  My prayers go out to the friends and families who are mourning the loss of a loved one.

With many summits this year, new records, and surprising losses, Everest remains a fascinating and dangerous place that still grabs the world’s attention and the dreams of those who long to stand on top of the world.

View of the Gore Range from near the end of the Commando Run

The Commando run is a 15 mile ski tour through the high backcountry of the White River National Forest near Vail. The high point, just above 11,000 feet, is called the “Top of the World.”  Yesterday I was able to complete this trip for the x-teenth time with two old friends, and one new one.  Along the way it impressed me that even though I had not seen these friends in a while we pulled this off in a very respectable time with very little planning, and a lot of laughs along the way.

It served as a reminder that when we take care of our bodies, keep our skills sharp, and have each other’s backs, we are ready for adventure at the drop of a hat.  So whether at work, with family, in our organizations, sports or hobbies, keep those skills sharp, stay fit, remain selfless and have fun because adventure awaits.

You have trained your whole life to be the best, the toughest, most loyal soldier you can be.  You are part of an elite special ops team fighting an enemy on their turf and on their terms.  Terms that do not meet the rules of engagement which you follow.  It is like fighting with one arm behind your back and now as you move in on your target (mission classified) a grenade goes off near your head: confusion, concussion, injury, blood and blindness follow.  The men you are with are still relying on you but you urgently need help.  The medic tries to pull you away but you insist on staying, running the communications back to the team to ensure your team makes it out safely.  Just another heroic day at the office.

Is this you?  It is hard to say how we ourselves would react in a situation like this, but I know for sure it is a rare few who would do what Marty Bailey did a few years ago when he lost his sight.  I can guarantee that his team was thankful to him and thankful for his courage.  I am too.  This is why we have formed www.BlindStrength.org so that we (this means anyone who wishes to support it) can help Marty and soldiers like him who have sacrificed so much for us.

Last week I met Marty for the first time on our team’s first training climb in Utah’s Wasatch mountains.  The team is preparing to climb 20,320′ Denali May of 2014.  Blind for only a few years Marty has come a long way, and is now again pushing his limits as part of a team that hopes to make the first blind ascent of the Upper West-Rib, a climb that offers plenty of challenge for seasoned sighted climbers – let alone a climber who is blind.  Once again he will be fighting with one arm behind his back and the rules of engagement once again, unfair.

In freezing temperatures, at altitude, with a heavy pack and hauling a loaded sled in one foot of fresh snow pushed by 30 mph winds, blinded Master Sergeant Marty Bailey pressed on in spite of his cramping legs and small, awkward, snowshoes.  Using new tools and climbing with a new team on only the few hours of sleep that travel delays and a sixteen month old baby girl would allow, I herd him stop and out of frustration say “I’ve just never been the weak link.”

This is what it is all about.

Most all of us will admit that at some point in our lives we may have felt as though we have let others down, or that we were the weak one, or the reason for failure.  I hope so.  This is the reason for team, for community, for trust and reliance and it makes us humble like it or not.  Peyton Manning quarterback of the Denver Broncos has just had the most successful season a QB has ever had and I know for a fact (I watched the bad games) on his journey there were days he was off and relied on the team more than others.

No matter who we are, we need the strength of each other to help us through the off days, to get back on our feet, to get to the top – help in getting stronger.

“No, those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are actually very important.” 1 Corinthians 12:22

Warmth:
Layering works because of its versatility.  Fabric matters because of its performance and its ability to keep one warm while maintaining a level of comfort and style.

The lightweight T was actually a good fit for adventure travel as it could be worn alone on hot treks, or layered under another shirt for a night out at a restaurant.  Beyond that it worked well in a sleeping bag and could stay on under all the other layers for forays out of the tent.  Obviously a t-shirt is not the warmest, but due to the fabric this was warm when temps were cool and cool when temps were warm.  I have always preferred a zip neck on expeditions because of their ability to vent.  With this shirt I never felt venting was necessary.  For a light t this gets a thumbs up for warmth.

Breathability/ Drying Speed:
The tights are among my favorites due to their lightweight and with that their ability to breathe.  I never felt clammy or sticky as with some other fabrics.  The light weight also allows them to dry more quickly than heavier wool layers putting these on par with synthetics for drying speed.  Even if they did not dry as fast as they do wool keeps you warm when wet without the clammy feeling, but it does smell a little like, well, wet wool.

Durability:
It has been one year of solid use – running, hiking, backpacking, ice climbing, skiing, washing and drying and I must admit that I am surprised that these lightweights have held up.  When I first received them I felt they may be too light to go the distance.  No holes, loose threads, pilling, fading or shrinkage.  They are holding up well.
Layering Ability:
These are the first layer, the first line of defense against the cold and they work great for this purpose under other garments – even heavy windproof running tights.  They fit close to the body and are light so they layer very well allowing for other layers to glide on over them, but don’t try to get anything underneath them.
Feel:
I have very sensitive skin.  I have always preferred cottony soft t-shirts or flannel against the skin.  Some synthetics are brushed and have a cozy softness to them and work well against the skin.  I have worn wool from five different manufacturers all claiming to have the softest feel.  The truth for me is that under heavy pack straps it can at times feel like wool.  Never a problem under a harness, or on the legs and wool is 100% my choice as a base-layer for the lower half, 75% for the upper.  People with less sensitive skin probably won’t notice, but for me I need to scratch once in awhile.  Somedays I notice, somedays I don’t but the qualities of the shirt keep me coming back to it most days.

Fit:
The fit is athletic and true to size, non-restrictive.  At 6’2″ tall with a 33″ waist I found the fit of these both to be spot on. (Large top, medium bottoms)
If you are body conscience you might find these to be a little form fitting when worn alone, but this is what makes them great as a bas-layer.  My only gripe at all is with the t that it comes across the front of the neck a little high and can feel a bit constricting at times.  Having long limbs I can’t comment on sleeve length from this brand yet, but the tights were adequate in length for me with a 34″ inseam.
The Bottom Line:
I/O Merino is a young company that is off to a good start.  The products I have been able to sample work well, are durable, nice looking, fit as they should and offer great versatility.
Definitely worth your consideration for your next adventure.

A Gear review.

After many weeks this summer out in the peaks, woods, ice, rain, snow, dust, streams, crowded buses, small planes, tight tents, mist, fog and sun I have much to report.  I had the luxury of testing out some new products and pushing the limits of some old.  I’d like to write a few posts about what I learned so that by reading this you might be able to make a better decision when it comes time to buy some outdoor recreational equipment.

So let’s start with the first thing that goes on after stepping out of the shower, and that in the mountains might remain on for several days: undies.  Opinions abound and people have their favorites – it is a delicate and sensitive topic involving a sensitive area.  When you see these on a store’s rack questions will immediately arise: do they ride, creep, pinch, squeeze, chaff, smell after an hour of wear and are they worth the price?

My answer is I/O Merino.  No riding, creeping, pinching, etc and even after days on the trail no significant odor.  I have tried many other reputable brands and styles of synthetic briefs and boxers that wick, dry quickly, keep a person warm when wet but begin to smell the moment you look at them (never going back).

By wearing wool you get all of the same benefits of synthetic but without the odor.  Many people when introduced to the idea of wool will flinch when they think of wearing it as a base-layer, but let me tell you fine merino that is well made does not itch down there.  Not clammy like cotton, if I could afford to wear these everyday I would.  I can afford to wear them everyday while on the trail and in the tent my tent mates appreciate the fact I smell a little less.

Warm, warm when wet, low odor retention, dry fast enough, and even after ignoring the care instructions many times they are holding up after repeated wash and dry cycles.

Shopping for expedition undies – look no further than I/O Merino.  I am a 33″ waist – my medium boxer briefs fit a bit more like boxer shorts.  If you want more support go down a size.

I/O Boxer Brief

White Out on Pisco

Through the darkness of the early morning hours we began our climb.  Headlamps shining brightly to illuminate the rocky terminus of the glacier we navigated by instinct and small piles of rocks called cairns.  The small circles of light were just enough to illuminate each step and where it should be precariously placed before glancing upward to spot the next pile of rocks showing the way.  Hours would pass by as time and time again we would briefly lose our way.  Pausing, examining the surroundings, exploring possibilities, we would regain our course and press on.  A favorite scripture of mine speaks to this: Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path – Psalm 119:105.  The destination is unseen, the entire plan unknown, there is just enough light, just enough information to take the next step.  In faith – take it.  Navigation requires focus, experience, the ability to be alert to each step even while carrying on a conversation.

Have you ever  been at a place in life where you were wondering which way to go?  Have you been seemingly stuck, no map, no signs, no GPS coordinates, and no one to guide you and make tough decisions for you?  True in business, true as a parent, true for the student figuring out the future.  We have all been there.  So what does it take to carry on in such uncertainty?

Fortitude and faith.

We emerged from the darkness into the light of day long enough to get geared up and hit the glacier.  Only minutes after setting foot on the glacier we were again moving blindly, and this time a headlamp would be of no use.  The wind kicked up, the snow was moving sideways, the clouds came down and now there was no visual separation of earth and sky.  Hello vertigo.  Progress became slow, morale dropped, and what was supposed to be a “gimmee” of a climb became a real challenge indeed.  Winter in the Andes is predictable: the sun always shines – ha.  The drifting snow covered the tracks of yesterday and as the ridge narrowed, we began to wonder if we might walk right off the ridge stepping onto a cloud thought to be solid ground.

More exhausting than the altitude and the climb itself was the amount of focus it took to discern and stay the course.  Probing with poles for each step, the mind playing tricks on the senses and the senses playing tricks right back on the mind, up seemed down and down seemed up and at times the team tied to my rope would disappear into the white.

Just when all hope seemed lost a break in the clouds would reveal some footsteps, or a feature up ahead, just enough to ensure the course was still true.

We walk by faith, not by sight.  Says 2 Corinthians 5:7.  It is that faith that assures me the course will be revealed at some point, so I ask myself do I have enough faith to take another step when all I see is my feet?  Well one more…then another…and so on.

We made the summit of Pisco in challenging conditions.  Experience, a positive well equipped team, moving forward in fortitude by faith.

So if you are facing difficulty, uncertainty and that next step seems impossible – try this:
Trust in the Lord with all of your heart.  Lean not on your own understanding.  In all of your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight.  Proverbs 3:5,6.