New Challenges in the Alaska Range

I woke extra early this morning unwillingly. It is, after all, Friday the 13th. My back spasms woke me and I went downstairs so I didn’t bother Edelweiss with any more tossing and turning. Sitting at my laptop (or rather not lying down) usually helps the pain go away.

That’s when I came across a delightful comment from Leland Anderson. This was his announcement: “Clint Helander et al have Crucified Golgotha.”

If it was true, it had to be verified somehow. It was at least believable.

The Easter Story talks of Jesus going to Golgotha — which means place of the skull — to be crucified before rising from the dead. Golgotha  (8,940 ft./2,725 m.) is  also what alpinist David Roberts named one of the most significant challenges in the Revelation Mountains in the Alaska Range, which all the peak names relate to the Bible. In Climbing magazine issue 299, Roberts wrote about his 1967 pioneering expedition to the sub-mountain range of the Alaska Range. There he confessed that he had been keeping the opportunity of Golgotha a secret ever since.

Roberts’ article became a challenge to Clint Helander, Scotty Vincik and Mark Westman. They applied for and won a Mugs Stump Grant Award to help them in their desire to attempt the unclimbed east face.

The claim was verified: According to Clint Helander’s Facebook post on April 12, 2012, he and his two partners attempted the east face but were turned back twice due to spindrift. The weather conditions were reported as being “horrible.” and were estimated to reach 70 miles per hour. The team did much simul-climbing over mixed terrain on an alternate route — not the east face in clear profile, unfortunately, rather “around the southeast face.” I am looking forward to hearing more details about this soon. Perhaps we might get it on Helander’s blog, Higher Dreams.

I share this mainly because I suspect that Golgotha may be a popular new calling for progressive alpinists climbing in Alaska. I think this may be the case in part because of the legend Roberts help create, the affirming information that seems to be coming from Helander and because the east face has yet to be climbed. That could be the second ascent. Could it happen this season? Hard to tell since it is my understanding that getting to the Revelations is especially difficult even by bush plane.

While the Gogotha first ascent is the most significant news to me, I also shared exciting news on the Facebook page news of John Frieh and Doug Shepherd made a new route up the unclimbed northeast face of Mount Dickey (9,545 ft./2,909 m.), also in the Alaska Range, along the Great Gorge of the Ruth Glacier. The line they climbed is a 5,000-foot route they named No Such Things as a Bargain Promise (VI A0 WI5R M6). Check out the route here at Alpinist.

The season in Alaska is certainly underway, and it’s only the middle of April.

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Sources: 1) Clint Helander’s Facebook Page, post dated April 12, 2012; 2) 2) Roberts, David, On the Ridge Between Life and Death, Simon and Schuster, 2005; 3) Alpinist Newswire on Mugs Stump Award; and 4) Alpinist Newswire on Mount Dickey route.

Adirondack Alpine: Wallface Mountain

Several years ago, I traversed the bulk of the MacIntyre Range of New York State’s Adirondacks with a college friend. We hiked a loop at a lung-busting pace. It included Whales Tale Mountain, Wright Peak, Algonquin, Boundary and Iroquois Peaks — big mountains for the ‘Dacks. I remember the trip most fondly because it got cut short. We ran out of the means to purify our water (we’re very conservative with our water) so we hiked out early through Tahawus to the south and drove all the way to Lake Placid, found the only place open late and enjoyed the most refreshing beer I’ve ever had.

I also remember it for another reason. While I had been atop Algonquin years before, I was more in shape and alert this trip. I had more energy and taking in the views, despite exertion, was easier. That’s where I took a long look at it: The most distinctive and unique feature that can be seen from Algonquin and  Iroquois is the Adirondack’s largest rock wall on the southeastern face of Wallface Mountain down in the valley. I paused gaze at it’s ramparts. I might have daydreamed about it a while too.

I never climbed its face, though I wish I had. I still might. It’s 800 feet of vertical backcountry located at Indian Pass. The Indian Pass Trail, which runs from Adirondack Loj at Heart Lake to Upper Works — the old mining town and the man-made divot of the High Peaks. From the Loj it’s six miles to the Pass and the wall, or four-and-a-half miles from Upper Works.

Don Mellor claims that it’s possible to do an “alpine-style day trip” from car to wall in about two hours. That’s true, if you can find your way to the wall and your route. Bushwhacking is required and several people report that they have underestimated their ability to find the bottom of their climb. Like many of the Adirondack’s better walls, this is a wilderness experience. Help in the case of trouble is usually a day away and the path in is spent dodging the large rocks moved by exiting glaciers a long time ago that now help define the Adirondack woods. On the approach keep moving, because during June and July the black flies are a menace!

Once at the Pass, Mellor recommends in his guide, Climbing in the Adirondacks,  going to Summit Rock on the other side of the pass to get a look at the face and determine the route there.

Climbing requires a helmet, and possibly a headnet to keep the black flies at bay, and prevent distraction and even madness if you’re belaying your partner. The helmet is needed because the routes can be chossy at points.

The most popular route is The Diagonal (5.8, 700′). Mellor says it is one of the “longest continuous rock climbs in the east.” The Diagonal should take less than a day. The other notable route is Pleasure Victim (5.11, 700′). It’s more challenging for the skilled climber and includes the luxury of rappel stations, from what I’ve heard unofficially. Mellor calls it “THE Adirondack big-wall free climb.”

Climbing in the ‘Dacks may not be a worldwide attraction like moab, but it’s not the local crag either. It is what it is and it’s special if you take the time to get to know it. Frtiz Weissner, the great German-immigrant alpinist that was nearly the first man to summit K2 in 1939 — two decades before Annapurna’s first ascent, climbed here too. He so respected the area and the history, he encouraged the climbing community to write a guide that covers the rich history — the one Mellor, most recently, has been responsible for compiling.

While Wallface is exciting for being a big climb, there is another that I think is more exciting for it’s setting among the High Peaks: Gothics. I’ll cover that another time. But if you’ve climbed it, I’d enjoy hearing from you.

By the way, this week I heard that Tim Emmett will is on his way to Trango Tower in the Karakorum. I’m hoping for news of a first ascent. There is a rumor that they might attempt the World Record Base Jump to make it the world’s highest altitude base jump. If so, I hope the climb goes well, conditions are right and everything goes according to plan. I just hope he returns safely.

Thanks for dropping by again, as always. If you enjoyed this post, please consider following the Suburban Mountaineer on Facebook orTwitter. Happy reading and carpe climb ‘em!

Squamish and Parkland Debate

I’ve heard that there might be a big change coming to Squamish, BC. Many, including most residents seem to embrace it, yet it’s a choice that ought to involve many considerations than the local view.

I can imagine myself bringing my family back to there in the near future, not quite sure I like the change. We’d drive up the Sea-to-Sky Highway from Vancouver probably after enjoying Lord Stanley’s Park. Then, just before the main attraction, we’d show Wunderkind Shannon Falls. She might get bored, or tired, and we’d move on.

Finally, at last, we’d take-in the Stawamus Chief. Or would we? The view from the Highway alone is stunning. On one side earth rises sharply to the crisp blue air. The other dips into choppy water flowing in the Straits of Georgia.
All of it accented by my favorite color in the various sharp shapes and sizes that God makes evergreens.

Between the Falls and the great cliff, we might stop, pay CA$29 to ride up the ridge to Mount Habrich. You see, while more approvals are required, the District of Squamish Council in British Colombia has approved the plan to build a gondola within the park. Apparently, the Squamish Council didn’t think its attractions were enough or lucrative enough that they approved an enclosed ski lift for sight seeing the sound.

It’s better than what was proposed in 2004, which would have put the gondola’s path right atop and along the Stawamus Chief cliff. The outcry was significant but in 2011 the Sea-to-Sky Gondola reintroduced the idea, but this time for the neighboring ridge. The Squamish residents seem to tolerate the idea a little more with the added knowledge that the gondola’s path would be over an area “impacted” by logging.

I know that my wife and daughter would enjoy the ride to the top; it would be a chance to see the view from on high without a long, uphill hike or steep climb with dad interrupted by long breaks for water and photos. For the gondola alternative, the effort involved is significantly low and wearing flip flops right out of the car and through the turnstiles would be acceptable — I can see the appeal. It would also separate the hardcore outdoors types from the flip flip tourists. But if the gondola wasn’t there, I wouldn’t miss it. Besides, if the land was “impacted” by logging, why couldn’t it be allowed to be wild once again? If it were let be, it would come back, perhaps different, but the land would grow as it wishes, even if it’s just grasses and lichen.

The Squamish Council’s decision was not the final approval, however. It now turns to the Squamish-Lillooet Regional District of British Colombia Parks and the provincial government. The developer hopes to build starting in September 2012, but the choice remaining is worrisome: In order for the gondola to receive final approval, the land’s designation must be downgraded from park land to protected land. The permanence of such designations are always subject to change by policymakers, however, it is far easier to reverse course on such choices when there is not infrastructure in place, such as a gondola or ski jump (the Adirondacks in New York comes to mind).

But it can also be likened to the proposal to drill in Alaska. Some polls claim that a majority of Alaskan residents support drilling to help with employment. However, many Americans — greater than the population of Alaskan residents — consider the land a natural treasure of wild places.   The decision needed for approval involves political discussions and policy decisions that involve more than just the local residents. Local residents aren’t the only people that have a stake, and in the case of the Squamish Gondola, BC Parks and the province — not to mention the people of British Colombia and even others like me — may value the ridge line path very differently.

The gondola could bring revenue to Squamish, allow those visitors and locals who wouldn’t hike or climb to the top for the view to ride high, and separate the tourist-scoffing from the tourists. But it actually does little else for the land itself. While the area is hardly true wilderness, the area around Shannon Falls and the Chief is often more wild than many people experience. It ought to stay untamed and a little inconvenient.

That being said, I take comfort that if the gondola was built, the Stawamus Chief would still be one of the largest walls in the world and that no gondola reached its top to create a Clingman’s Dome environment in what ought to be a magic moment of topping out. So things could be worse, yet they could be better too.

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

Training for Climbing: Square One

If you haven’t climbed in a while because of life, career or family has taken you to Peaklessburg, training to climb by just climbing is almost impossible, and yet that’s what the experts tell you to do. In fact, I reached out to a climbing guide in the Adirondacks recently about climbing some routes on Gothics (everyone needs a goal). Since I haven’t climbed seriously in years, I also asked for his advice about training, as in how I should prepare for this climb. He responded with the answer I’ve found unhelpful for years: “To prepare to climb any route you need to climb, simple as that…”

Despite this, I remained hopeful that there was a way to maintain general climber fitness, even if my skills deteriorate from lack of practice, without climbing. However, it’s difficult to get at climbing training information while avoiding what I would call extreme training regimens of super alpinists. I admire the climbers that maintain that level of fitness but it’s impractical for me, and maybe you too. But I have taken serious looks at them to see what truths might be applied to acheive goals on the more modest end of the spectrum.

I’ve been impressed by Rob Shaul’s programs at Mountain Athlete in Jackson, Wyoming and Mark Twight’s Gym Jones. Twight is better known and created the popular 300 Workout used by a lot of ambitious people. Shaul’s program, on the other hand, is more specific to mountaineering, though it appeals to military personnel too.

At Mountain Athlete, Shaul applies the fundamentals strength training to achieve of power, stamina and durability. This is especially important for professional mountain guides because they are “industrial athletes,” as he refers to them, that rely on their daily, physical work to earn their livelihood. However, Shaul’s standard for personal fitness is beyond my goal, such as lifting twice your body weight. I would like to do that, but to do so I would have to rearrange my life priorities too much, which is beyond my interest.

I have also looked to well-known, successful climbers like Ed Viesturs and Steve House. Like their approaches to climbing as well as their public persona, their advice differs. The advice based on Viesturs’ workouts talks about the exercises mainly. House gives his own advice on his blog and he doesn’t fret about giving technical advice. For instance, he explains the absolute need for training phases and varying the routine and taking rest days in order to build strength, finesse and speed.

Having explored those avenues, I turned to the American Alpine Club Henry S. Hall, Jr. Library and borrowed Training for Climbing: The Definitive Guide to Imrpove Your Performance by Eric J. Hörst. After reading House’s blog, which is informative but just introductory, Hörst’s book is in depth and reminded me of the text book in my college health class (I took it one of two required science classes.) It goes through what you should know to create your own training program. It does presume a baseline climber fitness level, but it also explains what that level is.

Hörst seems to answer all of my questions. I’ve learned that he role of running is to help increase my VO2 max alone and that training doughnuts are not ideal for training for several reasons except in special cases like injury rehab or obtaining a baseline grip strength. What he emphasizes you focus on is 1) grip strength, 2) lock-off strength, 3) lunging power, and 4) core strength. He goes into each in great detail.

He also clears up the key issue of whether climbing alone is the only means of preparing to climb. He acknowledges that climbing skills cannot be learned through strength training: “Skill practice is paramount, since climbing skills and tactics are distinctly unique from those of other sports. Only going climbing will make you a more skilled climber.”

But the rest of his book — all 11 chapters and 247 pages — address making you a better climber by enhancing your strength needed for climbing. He provides the principles to apply, the reasoning behind them, and what they do to make you a stronger, fitter athlete for climbing.

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) Hörst, Eric J., Training for Climbing: The Definitive Guide to Improving Your Performance, 2nd ed., Falcon Guides, 2008; 2) Shaul, Rob, “Mountain Athlete: Weight Training for Climbing,” Alpinist.com, June 4, 2008; and 3) House, Steve, “The First Entry,” Training Blog.

No Cake Walk on Denali

The weather can rapidly shift and deteriorate at any altitude. It’s less interesting here in Peaklessburg, except, it actually snowed here yesterday! And then, moments later, the grey sky parted to make way for blue skies and sunshine. The flurries were so brief I thought I imagined them. However, the fact that the schools south of here actually closed for a snow day gives me reason to believe I wasn’t imagining things.

It’s easy to take common weather shifts for granted near sea level and in well-populated areas. We have the luxuries of automobiles and firm walls — and Starbucks coffee houses — to shelter us. That’s not the case alpine climbing and certainly not on Denali.

Every mountain has dangers, and Denali has some special characteristics. Jonathan Waterman, a former Denali guide, Mountaineering Park Ranger and author, makes the case that Denali has to be thought of as a bigger mountain than it’s elevation actually indicates. At 20,320 ft./6,196 m., it’s the highest mountain in North America but it’s dwarfed by Himalayan peaks in terms of girth and towering size by an extra kilometer or two. That being said, it’s proximity to one of the poles makes it much colder than mountains at similar altitude.

In Surviving Denali: A Study of Accidents on Mount McKinley 1903-1990 (AAC Press 1991), Waterman gives the example that the weather at the 17,200-foot camps can shift by dropping temperatures, increasing winds, and sudden snowfall causing decreased visibility. By contrast, at the same elevation in the Himalaya, climbers can often find refuge to rest and recover.

However, the dangers of climbing Denali are not limited to the weather conditions and climbing conditions (including crevasse fall, avalanche danger, rock fall and so forth), but are also like any other higher altitude peak. Climbers are susceptible to Altitude Mountain Sickness (AMS), High Altitude Pulmonary Edema (HAPE), and High Altitude Cerebral Edema (HACE). While immediate descent to lower elevation is the only real remedy, getting down can be a challenge as significant as the medical condition.

Helicopter evacuations are often requested for rescue, both in climbing accidents and medical incidents — and thank goodness it’s available. However, I believe that it takes away from the true purpose of going to the mountains: To experience deprivation from the infrastructure of society and be self-reliant, which is to say, to take-in wilderness.

The temptation of an alpinist to get to and from the mountain itself in haste has also presented numerous dangers and loss of life. For example, the climbers from the Harvard Mountaineering Club that made the second ascent of the north face by a new route survived frequent avalanches and rock fall, but nearly lost of their teammates by attempting to cross the McKinley River on there return. The river was at the height of its flow at that time of day. Waterman mentions about a dozen similar incidents — some deadly — in his other book, High Alaska.

Well, in other areas it sounds like the American Alpine Club Benefit Dinner was a success. I’m hearing good things about Freddie Wilkinson’s film of the ascent of Saser Kangri II last year. Hopefully I’ll get to watch it soon.

Laslty, news of expeditions’ plans for 2012 in the northern hemisphere are coming to surface — at least for climbs that will be promoting a brand or a cause. Regarding Denali, I’ve heard from Stewart Green’s blog that an all African-American team will be going for the top. I think that would be great to introduce the sport to a demographic that isn’t normally inclined toward climbing. What better way than through the romance of climbing a big peak? I wish them luck!

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A Little Adirondack Ice

The only picture of me climbing ice is before I learned how to climb. I’m spread way too long vertically with my arms straight up, picks stuck in the ice and my legs straight. I learned quickly that you don’t climb like that… anywhere.

While my college classmates went to Mexico, Florida or to their homes for Spring Break I got in my blue Mazda MX-6 and drove to Keene, New York. The plan was to do some short one-day climbs for two-to-three days with Bill Simes, who was guiding for Ed Palen’s Rock and River Guides. Rock and River is also a B&B so I had a room in the “Guide House.” In fact, I was the only guest at that time.

The weather would hold for the day I got there, my 22nd birthday, but the climb at Chapel Pond the second day was in doubt. The layer of grey clouds were growing thicker through the day and sealing off the spouts of sunshine. The forecast called for freezing rain, and lots of it.

Bill and I chose an only-slightly gentle slope to warm up. He set up the top rope, rapped down and reminded me to only use the pics for balance and to stand on my feet. Just like on rock, sort of. There aren’t front points on rock, usually.

Kick, kick, swing, swing. I stepped up and repeated. At the top, the first rappel was a little dicey. I quickly swung to my left, my hip and arm hitting the ice; clearly I didn’t start with a wide stance. Or I was just plain unbalanced. I don’t remember.

We walked over to a steeper wall of ice and I climbed and practiced placing ice screws. Bill told me that a recent study concluded that the screw will hold better — surer — if it’s angled downward, as if it would slide out. It seemed completely counter intuitive at the time. He explained why, but I’m not sure he completely understood. Bill was clearly convinced and I trusted him — he was one of Ed Palen’s guides — so I bought it too, without completely understanding. I read the engineering explanation later.

After we ate some granola bars and fruit for lunch, Bill set up the rope on an ice wall that was plain verticle and finished slightly overhanging. Gravity pulled at me from behind the whole time and I felt my heels dipping low, stretching my calves. I gripped my axes tighter — probably unnecessarily. This was when we had axe leashes (does anyone still use them?) and Bill told me to relax my grip and let my skeleton hang in the wrist loops. I tried. But even that hurt too, just differently.

I fell and hung suspended. Bill lowered me down. As it were a video game, I had to start over. I did top out — a couple of times. But I was spent. By four, we called it a day.

This would have been the perfect moment for him to slap me on the shoulder and say, “Let’s grab a beer.” Instead, I enjoyed a Saranac Pale Ale with dinner in town by myself. I watched the TV in the bar, got the news and then I got the weather forecast.

The next day wasn’t an epic. It was awash. But it was a nice birthday.

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