What is Alpine Style?

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Alpine Style. (All rights reserved)

Alpine style is often mentioned and talked about in mountain climbing literature and guidebooks but it’s not always defined or understood by everyone except by alpinists and well-read armchair mountaineers. Let me try to explain it.

First off, it’s not about fashion. What you wear visiting Switzerland or Austria doesn’t get at the mountaineering matters that this blog discusses and certainly isn’t part of a mountaineer’s approach to alpine climbing.

Second, it’s important to recognize that there are a lot of different kinds of mountain climbing from various types of rock climbing to numerous types on routes covered in wintry conditions. Then there are subcategories for each based on the mountaineer’s style and approach to climbing the route. For example, with rock climbing some prefer sport climbing with pre-placed anchors while others prefer traditional or “trad” climbing where self-placed protection is set.

For big mountains and long routes, some climbers use a siege approach where camps are established and supplies are ferried and stashed along the way in caches. The route is connected by fixed ropes where climbing teams can ascend and descend as necessary to move a strong team on the summit. This method is often considered to be a conservative approach but is resource and time intensive. It can be applied to rock, wintry and mixed routes.

Alpine style climbing is contrasted to siege style ascents. The term originates from Europe’s Alps where the mountaineers of the 1800s ascended classic routes with the pack on their back, used one tent and moved camp as they went up and down the mountain. Today, some climbs are still considered alpine style in limited exceptions where alpinists use caches, fixed ropes in limited situations — such as around a bergschrund (where a glacier is separated from a mountain, often leaving a gap) — or acclimatizing high on another route on the same mountain. Climber and mountaineering historian Jonathan Waterman makes some of these limited exceptions in his reviews.

In it’s purest form, alpine style climbing is full of no-going-back commitments. This means climbing to the top, often with minimal gear, food and fuel, crossing thresholds, like severe overhangs where abseils are impossible, and sometimes sacrificing comfort, warmth, sleep and nourishment to obtain the objective. Walter Bonatti, Reinhold Messner and Steve House have all made such commitments on some of their most notable climbs. Climbers like House have even taken it to another level that some observers refer to as “fast and light” climbing.

I hope that helps explain it.

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Trying on Some Rock Climbing Shoes

I just dropped by one of my local outfitters to try on some rock climbing shoes, with a lot of research and advice from friends and readers like you.

Keep in mind, I don’t climb these days and see that improving only marginally. The whole reason I’m shopping for them is so later I can have the pair of old, broken-in pair dad ought to have when he brings his child to the gym or crag when they older and so I don’t have to keep using rentals. After all, I write a climbing blog… It seems that I’m supposed to own a pair!

So I tried on and compared three all within an amazing 15 minutes. It was that short because I dropped into the shop on a whim while passing the store en route to more important errands, so my observations might have been rushed, but as a trial run to test out some rock climbing shoes it was a well used 15 minutes!

I tried on what they had available in my price range — under $100 US. The Mad Rock Phoenix is probably the most affordable shoe at this shop for men so I tried them on first. Mad Rock wearers either love them or hate them. They fit well. Plenty of room and could tighten them as needed by adjusting the laces.

I liked the Scarpa Thunder lace up the most. It fit my foot well and my toes had room, but I can’t decide if they were too snug in the toe box — I touched the end with a slight curl. Wasn’t intolerable. They certainly felt like a higher quality shoe compared to the Phoenix!

The La Sportiva Mythos was above my limit, so I tried on the Nago with the silver strip instead. That strip looks funny. A friend recommended these to me, so I’m glad they work for him. They were similar to the Thunders in fit.

Unfortunately they didn’t have anything else close to my size in the Five Ten Coyote and they only carried the lace-up model. They also did not carry the Evolv Defy… both of which I was hoping to don.

I tested each of them as best I could by taking a few short steps in them and also standing on the benches’ edge with my toes and insides of my foot. I don’t think that gave me any real solid observations, or at least nothing glaringly problematic came from trying these things.

I then tried them all on for a second time to compare them better and I made some judgments. First off, I preferred the Scarpa Thunders. They were clearly my favorite in this group. But I couldn’t decided whether I wanted a bigger size and I was wearing the largest in stock. I like my toes well surrounded by the shoe, but even that is left to interpretation. The Mad Rock Phoenix suddenly felt not only lesser quality to the Thunders, but also sloppier — at least in that they had more room for my foot to slide around in, even when I tried on a smaller size. The Nago… er… I still think they look funny to me so I’ll evaluate them again later if necessary.

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

If you’re looking for a new pair of rock climbing shoes and want to check back on my experience, read my last post on this subject by clicking here.

Banff: Mountain Celebration and Books

The mountain festival scene could be a little suspect. Like ski resorts, they are hardly wilderness experiences — the very thing that most of us are seeking in the mountains. But one festival in particular has always taken a serious, respectful look at the mountain life and culture and celebrates it through much more than just film, making it worth our attention in terms of how we look at mountain wilderness.

At the Banff Mountain Film and Book Festival held in Banff, Alberta, everyone knows of the film competition. After the awards are distributed, the festival tours throughout North America. However, the festival is much more than just the movies. It also includes mountain arts and crafts, gear trade show, photography exhibits and competition, presentations by the climbers and artists, and — my favorite part — the Banff Mountain Book Competition.

For the English speaking and reading world in mountaineering, there is nothing equivalent to the exclusive honor brought by The Banff Mountain Book Competition, which has been building a solid reputation over the last 18 years.

Nominations for the competition are collected early in the year in several categories: 1) Adventur Travel; 2) Guidebooks; 3) Mountain and Wilderness Literature; 4) Mountain Image; and 5) Mountaineering History. The awards are not enormous sums. They are rather modest in value: $2,000 CA for the Grand Prize and $1,000 CA for most other categories. Receiving the award is more about the title, dignity and respect, especially coming from these judges.

Three judges will decide on who wins best book in each category as well as the Grand Prize, sponsored by the Alpine Club of Canada. This year, the judges will be Katie Ives, the accomplished American mountain writer and editor of Alpinist magazine, Baiba Marrow, Canadian world mountain traveler and story teller, and David Pickford, who is from the United Kingdom and is a climber and editor-in-chief of Climb magazine.

The festival is hosted annually by the Banff Centre and begins this year on Saturday, October 29th and runs through Sunday, November 6th. The book competition winners will be awarded at an event on Thursday, November 3rd. Click here to see the finalists.

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

Troubles Finding the Right Rock Shoe

If you’ve been keeping up with my recent posts, you know I’m on a quest to find a new pair of rock climbing shoes. I’ve received some helpful advice from a variety of sources. Thanks in particular to some of my subscribers and Twitter followers!

My quest was recently likened to a mid-life crisis. I got a chuckle out of that. I’m hardly mid-life. But given a choice between a shiny new sports car and a shiny new rack, I’ll take the rack.

The reason it was likened to a mid-life crisis was that part of the reason I want rock climbing shoes is so when Wunderkind is older and we go to the local climbing gym or crag for some instruction, I’ll have my own broken-in, smelly, old model pair of shoes that someone that used to climb more often would have; the kind dad ought to have.

So, I need to gear-up. I’ve read confusing advice for fittings though and I’m not sure what applies to me. Some recommend that beginners find a flat shoe (meaning no downward curve to the shoe’s last) that is comfortable for your toes in the “toe box.” Others recommend that experienced climbers should get it a size or two too small where your toes form a fist, especially if they are made of leather so when they stretch they still are adequately snug. Being tight helps climbers keep contact, especially with tight holds. So which category I fit into I’m not sure. I’ve never been particularly skilled or advanced when I used to climb (I think 5.7, though I really don’t know.) When I used to wear my rentals, I always took a size that firmly held my foot and put the front of my toes touching the front of the shoe without having to curl them… Is that a bad idea? It’s always worked for me before.

Perhaps the biggest challenge is that while I want to have a shoe that Climbing magazine declared was an Editor’s Choice product, or something similarly recommended, I need a shoe that has good, sticky rubber and fits me. My toes always fit into Scarpas, but what about Five Tens, La Sportivas, Mammuts, Boreals and Mad Rocks? The challenge is compounded by the three local outfitters in my area (I know, I’m spoiled that way), because they only carry about six men’s shoes. And if I prefer the Velcro straps they might only carry the lace up model, for instance.

I’m going to continue my research and let you know what I find. I’m hearing good things about the Five Ten Coyote, Evolv Defy and La Sportiva Mythos… We’ll see.

Leave me a comment or shoot me an email if you have any feedback or suggestions. If you enjoyed this post, please consider following the Suburban Mountaineer onFacebook or Twitter. Happy reading and carpe climb ’em!

Also, you can catch up on my quest for new rock climbing shoes here by reading my last post on this topic: Rock Climbing in Peaklessburg.

American Alpine Club Reverses Decision on Journal Availability

I’m absolutely thrilled that the American Alpine Club (AAC) has reversed its decision and is making the American Alpine Journal (AAJ) publicly available as it has been in the past.

Every summer, members of the AAC receive their copy of the AAJ and a copy of the Accidents in North American Mountaineering. This year, the accompanying letter said that AAJs would not be available for purchase by non-members.

In the past — before I was a member — I always enjoyed finding a copy of the yearbook of climbing in Barnes and Noble stores. It had a scholarly tone and took the accomplishments and attempts in its pages very seriously. It gave the sport of mountaineering an extra hand in being dignified. It also helps promote the pursuit of summits, new routes and mountain exploration as something mankind needed to maintain a record of. It says what we do is important.

When I received the 2011 AAJ and the letter, I was surprised and taken aback by the decision. I was also in the midst of a busy time at work and a number of exciting changes at home, otherwise I would have voiced my disagreement. Of course, I received my copy, so I could also say I was less concerned content at the same time. In fact, this reversal has made me think once again just how important the AAJ really is.

Today, the AAC announced that they are reversing their decision. Nearly 100 members weighed in; some agreed and some did not. Ultimately, the AAC decided the new approach was not the right one and the adventurous among our society are all the better for it!

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

The Ledge: A Review and Daydream of Liberty Ridge

I recently finished reading The Ledge: An Adventure Story of Friendship and Survival on Mount Rainier by Jim Davidson and Kevin Vaughan (2011). It’s a very good story about, well, just what the subtitle says.

What it doesn’t say — and only climbers can appreciate it in these terms — is that it’s about a beautiful climb up the legendary Liberty Ridge route and a horrible, fluke accident on the descent that anyone that has crossed a glacier can, at a minimum identify with the fear.

The timing of the release of this book was impeccable for me because I’ve been obsessing over Mount Rainier this past few months. The key event in the book is about how Davidson and his friend and partner Mike Price fell into a deep crevasse and Davidson’s amazing self rescue. The rescue — or rather, the escape — is the central action part of the story and must be read to fully appreciate, so I will say no more. The Ledge‘s theme of friendship gets at the heart of a relationship that can only be forged through challenging adventures like mountaineering. Davidson and Vaughn really honor the memory of Mike Price in this tale.

Aside from themes, the book also provides ample fuel for a mountain daydream of a climb up Mount Rainier’s steep Liberty Ridge on its north face. This route was one that I hoped to climb one day. It has been called an alpine classic by Steve Roper and Allen Steck in Fifty Classic Climbs of North America (1996). Of course, I never thought of an accident happening after an ascent on this route, as happened in the book. It goes to show how many hazards there are up there.

The Liberty Ridge rises from the Carbon Glacier 5,500 feet, separates the 4,000-foot Willis Wall to its eastern flank and the nearly-as-large Liberty Wall to its west. It ascends sustained 55-degree slopes, not including brief steeper portions to get around Thumb Rock (10,760 ft.) The route turns to exclusively snow and hard ice up toward Black Pyramid (12,400). The ridge meets the Liberty Cap Glacier at 13,000 feet, where the summit (14,410 ft.), Colombia Crest, is reachable.

Davidson and Vaughn make the climb sound sublime and challenging for an experienced climber. I recommend reading the book for this part alone, and to learn about Davidson’s and Price’s surprise bivy location over the Liberty Wall — that’s actually something I’d like to duplicate, though I probably wouldn’t do so intentionally either.

Overall, The Ledge is a very good story to enjoy whether you’re a climber, an armchair mountaineer, or are fascinated by human perseverance. You can’t go wrong.

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

Sources: 1) Davidson, Jim and Kevin Vaughn, The Ledge: An Adventure Story of Friendship and Survival on Mount Rainier, Ballantine Books, 2011; 2) Roper, Steve and Allen Steck, Fifty Classic Climbs of North America, Sierra Club, 1996; and 3) Gauthier, Mike, Mount Rainier: A Climbing Guide, The Mountaineers, 1999.