Month: January 2012

Commitment to Training

/ Andrew Szalay / Leave a comment

Quick Note: I’m pages away from finishing One Mountain Thousand Summits by Freddie Wilkinson. Every time I’ve opened the book thinking I’m going to finish it — which has been four or five times in the last couple of days — Wunderkind wakes up from a nap or needs some special attention. I’m okay with the interruptions, actually. I’ve learned from Stephen King that reading is sometimes done in swallows, sometimes in sips.

I am also about 90 days away from the 10K race I’ll be running in April. This run will be the first milestone on my year-long plan to go from sedentary Washington, DC professional and armchair mountaineer, to being an active and fit husband and father.

The challenge to continuing to workout and train throughout the year is really about consistency and not getting bored with routine. Great athletes in professional sports, like Derek Jeter, Alex Ovechkin or Tiger Woods for example, have a tolerance and appreciation for routine. It allows them to focus on their game performance because all the factors of life are worked into a steady, somewhat predictable routine. For the most part, they all establish their way to prepare for an event and they don’t deter from it. Same meal, same warm up, same schedule, sometimes even the same music.

Preparing for the mountains is a bit trickier because the challenges we seek vary from location to location — unlike ball parks and ice rinks. Are you preparing for an Alaskan peak or a Colorado 14er? The training may be similar, but the time in preparing and the time that you need to be at your peak performance will be different; Alaskan expeditions tend to require more time commitment and therefore you need a bigger base of strength and reserves.

I’m preparing for the 2013 Stowe Derby. It’s a wacky skiing event where you ski down Vermont’s Mount Mansfield and then through town to the finish line. You have to commit before the race to compete on either skinny skis (nordic) or downhill skis. I’m going to ride and skate on my nordics. At least that way I’ll have an easier time on the level ground.

The race isn’t until February 2013 but it’s a goal that motivates me. Hopefully, I can develop a routine around this that I doesn’t bore me and that I have an inner desire to return to even after I get injured, sick or when work gets too busy for a brief season. Right now, I’m just running and doing some modest strength training. I already see benefits from my initial training, but sticking with it may be the toughest part, for any of us.

Thanks for dropping by again. If you enjoyed this post, please consider following the Suburban Mountaineer on Facebook or Twitter. Happy reading and carpe climb ’em!

Denali’s Hardest Routes

/ Andrew Szalay / 3 Comments
26094442984_ca924bf6d1

The peak formerly known as Mount McKinley. (All rights reserved)

I just learned that my favorite climbing writer, David Roberts and one of the climbers I admire most, Ed Viesturs, is coming to National Geographic headquarters this spring to talk about their new book, The Will to Climb. Edelweiss gave me my copy for Christmas. I’m pretty excited and am looking forward to going. Also — and perhaps more significantly — Gerlinde Kaltenbrunner will also be presenting on another night! But onto my main topic…

Not too long ago I was amused by a comment from Barbara Washburn — an alpinist and the wife of the late Bradford Washburn — in her book The Accidental Adventurer. She and her husband spent quite a bit of time climbing Mount McKinley/Denali around the 1950s, so she became quite familiar with it in terms of its size, mass and features. Later, when she and her husband made a pilgrimage to take-in Mount Everest, she quickly compared the two peaks and she sounded disappointed by the higher mountain.

While Everest is an impressive three-sided pyramid (in its most basic form), Denali is a mutli-faceted gemstone, with big walls, mini-big walls, numerous hanging glaciers and several knife-edge ridges. It’s complex. Like Barbara Washburn, we recognize Everest’s significance as the world’s highest point and Denali’s as one of the Seven Summits — the “roof” of North America. Both are big destinations, but Denali offers a bigger playground.

It’s also so complex that it has a spectrum of challenging routes established. While the West Buttress (Alaska Grade 2: 50 degrees 13,100 feet) is acknowledged as the most conservative route, Denali’s temptations only start there. To get a sense of the range of challenges, I wondered what were the most difficult routes on the mountain. All but one are on the massive south face:

Cassin Ridge — This route is cliche to some, partly because it was listed in Fifty Classic Climbs of North America. It was listed because it offers all the elements of a great Alaskan climb! It offers 65 degree snow and ice, knife edge exposure and some 5.8 rock. The first ascent by Riccardo Cassin in 1961 pushed he and his team to their limit and it gave them a little frostbite with their glory. The Cassin Route is rated Alaska Grade 5: 5.8 65 degrees.)

Canadian Direct — This route is the newest on this list. Maxime Turgeon and Louis-Philippe “LP” Menard climbed this line in 2006. The line starts up from the Kahiltnak Glacier’s East Fork and up a pillar to the left of the Japanese Direct and right of the American Direct. The ascent is nearly 8,000 feet, and the rock quality reportedly decent (odd for much of Alaska), even though Turgeon reports seeing some rockfall. The route is rated as Alaska Grade 6: M6 5.9.

Slovak Direct — This used to be referred to as the Czech Direct and is the straightest line from base to summit on the mountain. It was first climbed in 1984 by Czecholslovakian alpinists Blazej Adam, Tono Krizo and Franktisek Korl, with the help of a support team on the south buttress. The ascent typically takes several days, and after the first two camps, the rest were mere ice ledges. More recently, the name appears to have been adjusted to reflect the climbers’ proper region and nationality. Interestingly, shortly after the climb, Adam commented that he had done harder routes in Europe. (I think Steve House would disagree.) Slovak Direct is rated Alaska Grade 6: M5 WI6 5.9, 8,500 feet.

Denali Diamond — The route was founded in 1983 by Rolf Graage who felt he had a lot to prove to himself as an alpinist. Graage and guide Bryan Becker climbed for 37 pitches including a 25-foot A3 roof. In 2002, Ian Parnell and Kenton Cool (who sent the first tweet from Everest’s summit, incidentally) did the second ascent in five days — much shorter than the first assault at 17 days. Only a handful of teams have completed the line since because it’s clearly committing and only the experienced or insanely ambitious (I think you can be both) make the attempt. It’s rated Alaska Grade 6: 5.9 A3, 7,800 feet.

Harvard Route — This is — in my assessment — the most dangerous route on the mountain. If the conditions are right, and it’s climbed competently, it might not deserve to be on the list with Slovak Direct and Denali Diamond. But the Harvard Route on Denali has not been repeated. The route is on the north face — on the Wickersham Wall, one of the largest continuous walls in the world. The Harvard Route is unstable. It’s subject to significant rockfall and frequent avalanches. The team that climbed it, from the Harvard Mountaineering Club, climbed in a pleasant state of being naïve to the real dangers. They had never been on a big mountain before and thought the hazards they observed were just all part of the adventure! The route is rated Alaska Grade 4+: 5.5, A1 50 degrees, 14,900 feet.

Thanks again for stopping by. If you enjoyed this post, please consider following The Suburban Mountaineer on Twitter and Facebook.

Sources: 1) Waterman, Jonathan, High Alaska: A Historical Guide to Denali, Mount Foraker and Mount Hunter, AAC Press, 1996; 2) Beckwith, Christian, “Denali Diamond; The New Cassin?” Alpinist July 6, 2007; 3) Turgeon, Maxime, “Mt. Foraker and Denali,” Alpinist, November 27, 2006.

The New Guidebook Finder and the AAC Library Team

/ Andrew Szalay / Leave a comment

Hi, everybody! Back in July, our friends at the American Alpine Club asked me to preview their Guidebook Finder before it went public. Well I geeked out, tried it out and told them what I thought. Then they came back to me a couple of weeks ago to ask if I could do a guest post on Inclined, their blog. (Click here to check it out.)

The AAC Guidebook Finder is the latest search engine tool for the American Alpine Club Henry S. Hall, Jr. Library. It’s like a card catalog through a map. Go to your destination and click for the guidebooks for that area. It’s brilliant!

However, I feel a little guilty. Really. If my big idea in the guest post is implemented it will mean a lot more work for the library staff.

Let me tell you about the folks that made the Guidebook Finder the fantastic tool it is: First off, it was made possible by funding from Yvon Chouinard’s own Patagonia, which seems to contribute to a lot of things near and dear to me. Next, the whole library team, lead by Beth Heller with Alex Depta, managed the feedback and processed the requests. (Book checkouts have increased substantially since the Guidebook Finder was launched!) I also have to mention the person that brought the technical knowledge to connect the Library’s database with Google Maps. It was tedious work, but it wasn’t too mundane for Hale Melnick, who was an AAC intern at the time. He’s presently fighting another good battle with our other friends at the Access Fund.

So this should go without saying, but the library needs your help. The programs are funded through a variety of means, primarily membership dues and financial contributions. I made a modest contribution to the Library a short while ago, and I hope you will too. Giving says that you value the collections, the time the staff takes to find your books, log them in and out, pack them up, mailing them and being available to help with your research questions. Even if you have a good climbing library at home, nothing beats the holdings and the knowledgeable staff at the AAC Library. Also, the gifts are tax deductible.

Beth, I’ll write you guys another check soon — as an apology.

On a totally different topic, I’m happy to report that my training routine is becoming a habit! I’ve heard that if you keep something going consistently for over 21 days that it’s easier to keep going much longer. If that’s true I should be on my way of working out through the year, including running in a 10K this spring and participate in that wacky Stowe Derby — the cross country ski race — next winter. I’m sure Mount Mansfield will have snow next year… Right?

Well, thanks for dropping by once again. If you enjoyed this post, please consider following the Suburban Mountaineer on Facebook or Twitter. Happy reading and carpe climb ’em!

Is Climbing Selfish?

/ Andrew Szalay / Leave a comment
26312680282_626aab163c

The Creek. (All rights reserved)

One line from One Mountain Thousand Summits by Freddie Wilkinson — the second part of this next sentence — has had me thinking during my early morning runs about the old question, is climbing selfish? Wilkinson writes, “Since the polar feuds of the 20th Century, media controversy was an intrinsic part of exploration [including mountaineering] — but back then, few seriously questioned whether climbing mountains or traversing continents was worth it.”

People question whether our sport is worthwhile quite frequently today. Discouraging banter about whether adventures are valid pursuits usually follows tragedy — like the 1996 Everest disaster, 2008 loss of life on K2 or the 2011 season on Denali — hits the mainstream media. Or if it hits hard at home because a loved one was hurt, fell, or worse.

Playing Our Game

I used to urge critics of recreational adventure to  consider whether any athletic game or endeavor is. Playing baseball, for instance, seems beyond question unselfish because spectators can take in a game and the fans consider professional players (and even some amateurs) as entertainers. At least it is beyond question insofar as nobody thinks to attack it the way climbing sometimes is criticized, largely due to the danger. Deaths are rarely reported in the outfield.

Climbing, has been historically niche or at least private affairs, except for well-sponsored expeditions driving for the biggest objectives. Expeditions to attempt 8,000 meter peaks in the 1950s and 60s were well publicized, meanwhile work being done in Alaska at the same time was underground. The smaller rock walls in New England were climbed by climbers and it mattered only to other climbers.

Do we need nonclimbers to care or respect our pursuits and accomplishments to avoid being labeled selfish? I don’t think so, but the questions are largely questions of values and public relations. Climbing — particularly alpine mountaineering — is among the last types of exploration-type adventure in our day and age.

It’s All Fun and Games Until…

But going deeper and asking whether our climbing or any outdoor action-sport adventure is fundamentally selfish means we have to look at the people around us. Our friends. Our family. The ones that love us. They are all going to have a different opinion. When we are hurt, sometimes it’s harder on the people that love us. Our moms. Our spouses. Our kids.

Of course, we’re talking about recreational adventure here. There are people that are forced into adventures as part of their life due to natural disasters, war, and health challenges in a region. I think even general eviction and family stability issues might even qualify. I’m probably missing examples. While you and I go outside into the unknown to glean something for our soul, others are having similar and graver situations — hmm — minister to their soul unwillingly, shall we say.

Further, there are a lot of horrible things that could “get us,” from crossing the street, to unspeakable violence. Is going to the market or school worth it? That goes without saying. Is going to the ballgame? Or the movies? Climbing and outdoors adventures are at least driven by excitement and challenge; it’s not a chore, an errand, or an obligation. We could stay home, but we think the adventure is worthy of leaving the safety of our home and everyday routine.

Now to the point of selfishness, it’s not our opinion of whether it’s selfish that counts. I think most of those closest to us give us allowance or keep their fears of us being hurt (or worse) to themselves because they know that we enjoy the game. We feed off the energy from the sport.

So, no. I don’t ultimately believe climbing itself is selfish. It’s the agreement, spoken or unspoken, with the people who care about us that matters. They determine whether your adventure is antics or part of some noble quest.

Climb for the right reasons. Be honest with the people that love you. Maybe it’ll spare some grief and bring you closer in the process. Isn’t that important too?

Thanks for dropping by again. If you enjoyed this post, please consider following the Suburban Mountaineer on Facebook or Twitter. Happy reading and carpe climb ’em!

This post was modified slightly on April 20, 2016.

Golgotha, Middle Peak and Wild Alaska

/ Andrew Szalay / 5 Comments

Earlier this week, I saw that the Mugs Stump Grant recipients for 2012 were announced. News like this is more than a headline; it’s a chance for us to live vicariously through some current, bold alpinists. Seven projects were awarded but the Alaskan expeditions drew my attention.

One recipient is a team focused on Golgotha in the Revelation Mountains.  Clint Helander, Scotty Vincik, and Mark Westman will tackle its east face. The other recipient is a team heading to the Saint Elias Range to climb the west face of Middle Peak. That team is composed of Dave Burdick, John Frieh and Zac West. Their objective doesn’t have as dramatic a name as Golgotha, but that really doesn’t matter either; it’s challenge more than makes up for its utilitarian name.

Mountaineering is an amazing sport (yes, it is a sport,) and as the long list of 2012 grant recipients shows, the scope is literally global. North America is my home and Alaska (and to some extent British Colombia and Alberta) are my favorite, mountain-wise. Living in an urban area where everyone craves the beaches of southern Florida, Alaska is plenty exotic. I love the history of the Alaska Range, the rugged, remote allure of the Revelations and the wilderness of the Saint Elias Range.

The Revelations were first visited by one of the Harvard Mountaineering Club veterans and writer, David Roberts. He and his team chose biblical end-of-times inspired names for the mountains they saw, such as The Angel and, of course, the unclimbed Golgotha. Roberts recently said in a recent issue of Climbing that he had been saving it on his personal tick list, and only recently did he feel comfortable telling everyone else about it. I wonder if this inspired this expedition? It made me contemplate grabbing my crampons and buying a plane ticket.

The Saint Elias Range was a blank on the Alaskan/Canadian map until National Geographic sent Bradford Washburn and a team of climbers to draw one up the old fashioned way — getting down on the ground, walking the glaciers and finding what lay between the peaks. Despite it being mapped — like everywhere else these days (sigh) — it’s the experience of the hike, the climb, the conditions our responses and our mental state that really create the explorer’s world today.

I wish the teams very good luck!

Thanks for dropping by again. If you enjoyed this post, please consider following the Suburban Mountaineer on Facebook or Twitter. Happy reading and carpe climb ’em!

Sources: 1) Alpinist Newswire; 2) Roberts, David, On the Ridge Between Life and Death, Simon and Schuster, 2005; 3) Roberts, David, The Last of His Kind, HarperCollins, 2009.

Mountain Drool: Mother’s Charm Box and the Yeti

/ Andrew Szalay / Leave a comment

Ama Dablam (22,349 ft./6,812 m.) is widely photographed. Mountaineering  guide services even promote commercial alpine climbing expeditions to those aspiring to climb the peak. So in many ways the mountain has become familiar, unexciting and even bland. But there was time, when it lacked a lot of context, that it was exotic.

The first time I saw a picture of this peak with the serac dripping from its summit was in an advertisement for The North Face. I later saw it again in a magazine’s photo spread of a hike into Everest basecamp, so I knew it had to be in the Khumbu Valley. I didn’t know it’s name for years but I later learned that it was Ama Dablam, which mean’s Mother’s Charm Box or Mother’s Necklace.

The peak was first climbed in 1961 by Mike Gill and Wally Romanes of New Zealand, Mike Ward of the United Kingdom and Barry Bishop of the United States. This climb stands out in history for two reasons. It was the first Himalayan summit topped out in winter. It’s even more curious for another reason, other than the time of year: The climbing team was part of a larger expedition, led by Sir Edumund Hillary. It was called The World Book Encylopedia Scientific Expedition.

Among the expedition’s scientific goals (like the studying the effects of altitude) was to search for evidence of the “Abominable Snowman” or Yeti. Perhaps I should have put the word scientific in quotes. While that goal was likely to drive public interest, there was a genuine interest in whether sasquatch’s cousin (a.k.a. Bigfoot) did in fact exist. Even today, some people are still searching for sasquatch. At the time, there was evidence that allegedly pointed to the Yeti’s existence — footprints, skins and scalps.

The findings on the Yeti are mostly irrelevant today, but it does remind me of a more romantic time. When beasts unknown lurked in caves and even under beds, and when mountains didn’t have names — they were just beautiful and tempting. And when adventure was in being the first.

Cheers to Ama Dablam, to eveyone who has summited and those of us that just dream about it.

Thanks for dropping by again. If you enjoyed this post, please consider following the Suburban Mountaineer on Facebook or Twitter. Happy reading and carpe climb ’em!

Sources: 1962 American Alpine Journal