On Being Well Rounded

Recently, I got home from my second expedition up the West Buttress of Denali. Between the two trips I've guided a total of 15 climbers on the mountain. It's a very diverse group, all of these folks had worked hard before and during the expedition and had a strong desire to go to the summit, but that's where their similarities end. Climbers on these expeditions came from different countries, different generations, and even slightly different socioeconomic backgrounds. Perhaps the most striking of their differences was in climbing background.

A sort of a sunset at 14,000 feet. The full moon hangs over Mount Hunter, with Mount Foraker to the right. The classic Sultana Ridge is the sun-shade line on Foraker.

All had some mountaineering experience. Some had some more extensive alpine climbing mileage. A few folks on each trip had done a lot of technical climbing. These difference became glaringly obvious on two of the sections many regard as the cruxes of the expedition: the Fixed Lines above the 14,000 foot camp, and the Autobahn (a section of fixed pickets above the 17,000 foot camp). Both of these sections of the route are steep, and both require the climber to have a basic grasp of moving together as a roped team, and an understanding of how to operate a carabiner. I know this second skill sounds a bit sarcastic, but bear with me because it's not.

Eating salmon with the pick of my ice axe. I forgot my spoon this day.

Denali suitors who had extensive technical climbing experience on rock and ice were comfortable with the steeper terrain of the Fixed Lines and Autobahn. The very act of standing on these slopes did not tire or unnerve them. Their previous climbing experience gave them experiential, not just intellectual, knowledge of how rope systems can add security to steep terrain. Spending time handling ropes and carabiners in a variety of steep rock and ice situations meant that they had a fundamental understanding of how to clip and unclip rope from carabiner. They had no problem doing either with big bulky gloves (or mittens) when they were cold and tired.

Those with less technical experience were nervous on the steeper slopes. They didn't feel comfortable standing upright and sometimes assumed positions that seemed more secure but were more tiring. They didn't feel comfortable resting with their weight on the fixed rope. Clipping and unclipping was difficult and stressful. If the weather was bad and they were tired, all of these things were magnified. It was as if those with less technical experience were given a slightly harder mountain to climb.

Spud and Mike cruising to camp at 17,200. This is one of my favorite sections of the route.

In my time guiding in The Cascades* I worked with many climbers who were not interested in rock climbing at all. Some of them preferred to gut it out on obscure moderate alpine ice climbs that were in less-than-optimal condition rather than choose a classic route that might involve some 4th or low-5th class rock to get to or from the ice. Some thought they were too old to rock climb. Others thought that because they didn't look like Sharma shirtless they had no hope on the rock. Still others scoffed at rock climbing as something that couldn't benefit their mountaineering career in any way.

It might be the great variety of climbing available here in the Eastern Sierra colors my viewpoint on this issue, but it seems to me that having a breadth of experiences is beneficial no matter what part of the climbing buffet is your favorite. Some of the connections are obvious: bouldering can help you deal with powerful or dynamic moves on a sport climb. Sport climbing lets you work on movement skills you can bring to trad routes. Trad skills let you climb big walls and rocky peaks. But the connections could be more subtle. Projecting a boulder problem or sport route can help the mountaineer embrace the process of climbing a big peak and deal with the inevitable occasional setback or failure. The benfits could work the other way too. The experienced alpine climber knows that the summit is a very small part of a much bigger thing, and can bring that knowledge to working a challenging pitch at the crag.

On an expedition the little things can be pretty sweet, like having your name written in Sriracha on a quesadilla.

No matter what your preferred way of engaging with climbing, being well rounded (or even attempting to be) is beneficial. A bigger skill set puts more items on the menu of things you can do. As Josh Wharton said in a climbing video once, "What could be better than climbing? More climbing."

I was going to to mention a bunch of accomplished climbers who were known to be well rounded when a colleague pointed out that I don't need to drop famous names when I guide well rounded climbers all the time. He's right. I don't need to name drop Alex Lowe and Ueli Steck when I personally know Brett and Lee and Clay. I've been lucky to share a rope with climbers who like to eat from every part of the climbing buffet. Next time you find yourself joking that, "sport climbing is neither" remember that it's all just climbing and consider trying something new. You might like it.

"Do not use parking brake on glacier". From the dashboard of the de Havilland Beaver we flew off the glacier in.

*I meet folks who hold these views in The Sierra too, but in much smaller numbers.

Blind Date With New Ice Climbing Gear

Late this winter I had the privilege of spending just over three weeks in the Canadian Rockies. Two of the three weeks were spent ice climbing and one skiing. I don't usually like to bring untried gear on longer trips. In this case we were returning to town most nights so the commitment factor was low, and I ended up using 5 new pieces of equipment that worked pretty well. All of this stuff saw at least 12 days of hard use, some of it more.

Hoping the holes line up while drilling with the Petzl Laser Speed Light. Photo by Ethan Miller.

Petzl Laser Speed Light 21cm ice screw

When I'm building an anchor with ice screws I like one of those screws to be 21cm long. This is also the preferred length for building V-threads. The tube of the Laser Speed Light is made of aluminum instead of the usual steel. This makes the screw a lot lighter. In fact, the weight difference between the 21cm Petzl and the 22cm Black Diamond Express ice screw is 58 grams, the equivalent of about 2 Oz carabiners. They also seem to start a lot more easily than the BD screws, maybe due to the bigger teeth and the big C-shaped cutout at the base of those teeth. The lower profile hanger means less chipping away of troublesome spots in the ice and the single big clip-in point is simpler to use. These screws also come in an all-steel version. I like them so much I'm thinking about ditching my BD screws for a set. Anyone interested in buying a bunch of nice and sharp Black Diamond Turbo Express Screws?

OR Cathode light puffy jacket

This lightweight synthetic insulated jacket was a go-to for me on this trip, mainly because it fits me really well. Most days my upper body layers consisted of a base layer, an R1 hoody, and this jacket. When things got chilly I pulled a bigger puffy on over everything. The Cathode fits my skinny form well with a long cut in the arms and body. This means that it stays tucked into my harness while I'm climbing and covers my wrists well. Good wrist coverage keeps the blood flowing through arteries in my wrists warm, so that my hands stay warmer and I can wear thinner, more dextrous gloves.

The hood works really well over a helmet. Several similar, popular jackets have hoods that are designed to fit under helmets, which I find less than useless. I have to take my helmet off to take the hood on or off, which is a pain. If I do try to wear the hood over my helmet it pulls the whole jacket up and untucks it from my harness, so now I'm colder and the jacket obstructs the view of my gear loops. The hood on the Cathode, combined with the (for me) great fit means I stay warmer and am able to access the tools I need to climb.

The hood stays on my head no matter what and doesn't interfere with the fit of the jacket. Photo by Aaron Richards.

Dry Guy Circulator boot dryers

I knew we were going to want to climb every day and that we'd have minimal time to dry boots out. Wet feet are cold feet, so I borrowed a trick from road tripping skiers, electric boot dryers. It seems like there are a few brands and models of these. The Circulator is simple to use, just plug it in and stick 'em in your boots. They're small and travel well. I found they completely dry out a pair of ice boots overnight. Of course everyone on a trip wants to borrow them, and my partners and I found that two ice climbers can get almost completely dry boots by switching at some point in the night.

Innate Cha Vacuum Bottle thermos

For me this is a crucial item for winter day trips. I've had a hard time finding a good one over the years. For a while I had a model from REI that was okay but got destroyed when I backed over my climbing pack (long story). This was replaced by a Petzl branded thermos from Liquid Solutions. Just when I would get the lid on tight enough to not leak in my pack it would pop loose. I figured that Canadian skiers and ice climbers would never tolerate a sub-par thermos, and picked up this model from Innate at a shop in Canmore. The lid was easy to operate with gloves on. It takes up less pack space than the Petzl thermos, despite having the same inner volume. It kept tea and coffee piping hot. Best of all, I could crank the lid down tight enough to ensure no surprises in my pack.

Aaron sipping some hot tea.

Liberty Crack and Backbone Ridge

Here's one from the vault, about a couple of routes I climbed while living and working in the Cascades in the summer of 2008.


With my regular climbing partner back East for a family visit, I had to recruit another. A co-worker had some time off, so we made plans to tick two routes. We piled our gear into Mike’s car Friday evening and set off for Leavenworth. Our first objective: The Backbone Ridge (IV, 5.9) on Dragontail Peak. This rib of rock rises 2000 feet from just above Colchuck Lake to the summit. After a few hours of sleep in the parking lot we started hiking. A few more hours and we were taking off our headlamps at the lake and stashing snacks for the return hike.

Two hundred feet from the base of the route we encountered our first major obstacle, a really firm snow slope. Of course, we were in sneakers. We crossed using some chopped steps (we had one ice axe) and availing ourselves of the friction provided by debris on the snow’s surface. After the snow we kept our sneakers on and scrambled up to the base of the second pitch, which climbs a long offwidth.

Mike liking the offwidth. Note the sleeveless track jersey, his secret weapon for the wide stuff.

Most climbers do not relish offwidth cracks (cracks that are too wide for a fist, but too narrow to climb into). Climbers often abbreviate the term as “O.W.” One Joshua Tree guide claims this stands for “other way”, as in, go the other way. Because most find this crack size odious, they don’t often practice it. The upshot of this avoidance is that when mandatory offwidths are encountered climbers are unprepared and have a more difficult and unpleasant experience than they might otherwise, reinforcing their previous notions. It’s a vicious cycle. The other result of this distaste for offwidths is that they often get a harder rating than they should. A good example of this is Vertigo's “Half Moon” offwidth pitch (III 5.9, Cannon Cliff, New Hampshire). Some claim this to be the crux, but those with even a modicum of technique (and the sense to remove their pack) will find that it’s not so bad.

The offwidth on Backbone Ridge is fun. It’s in a right facing corner, which allows for stemming and hip scumming. The lower half is easily protected with mid-sized pieces and slung chockstones. After this, I pushed a big cam ahead of me for 30 feet until I could leave the offwidth for a comfy belay ledge. Easier terrain along the ridge crest and to it’s left followed. Soon we were simulclimbing up a ledge system on the Fin, a huge clean face that forms the upper part of the route. Part of the way up, Mike picked a nice looking finger crack (the actual crux of the route we took) and led us to the narrow upper edge of the Fin. From here, more simulclimbing took us to the top.

Leading on the Fin.

We lounged on the summit for an hour and a half; eating, taking pictures, goofing around, eating some more, and putting the climbing gear away. Hiking and glissading brought us to the top of Asgaard Pass, where we picked up the trail and made the 6-mile hike back to the car. Thirteen miles of hiking and 2000 feet of climbing had earned us some pizza, so we headed into Leavenworth for an overpriced pie.

Sunday morning we slept in and went for a swim. That afternoon we packed up and drove north to Washington Pass. Our objective was Liberty Crack (IV 5.10 C1), a 1200-foot aid and free route on the east face of Liberty Bell. We knew the route was going to take us a long time. Monday morning found us on our second predawn start.


We left the car at the small pond just east of the pass and followed faint climbers’ trails uphill through the woods. Horizontal bands of lighter rock partway up the face made the route easy to find. Unfortunately, another firm snow slope lay ahead. This time Mike took the lead, chopping steps with a rock until we were able to chimney down into the moat between snow and rock, with a hand and foot on each, and traverse over to the start.


We divided the route in half. The first block was mine and started with three pitches of aid climbing. I find approach shoes the best thing to wear for aid, but I wore my climbing shoes instead. Wearing them made me more inclined to get out of my aiders to make the occasional free move. Climbing shoes are also pretty uncomfortable in aiders, so there was extra motivation to get to the anchors.

The moment I started up the first pitch the mosquitoes were swarming. As I knew I would be warming up on lead, my windbreaker was off and I was just in a short-sleeved shirt. I remember none of the first pitch, just fending off the mosquitoes. As Mike jugged up to the belay I tried to think of excuses to quit. When he got there he had a positive attitude and didn’t really complain about the bugs. This gave me enough of a mental boost to keep going and the higher we got off the ground the less of an issue they became. The aid pitches were straightforward. The only marginal placements were a few fixed copperheads with frayed wires on the third pitch. The third pitch also featured the most bomber hook placement I have ever seen. I’ve read it could be bypassed with cams or nuts but why bother when a hook is easy to place and clean? One short lead of 5.10 and one long lead of 5.8 and my block ended on a ledge.

Looking down from just above “The Lithuanian Lip”, a prominent roof on pitch 2.

Mike linked two short pitches to “The Rotten Block”, a belay where it was easier to sit than stand. Next was a really long lead that started off with a little aid (Mike was glad to have an aider here) and stretched out to about halfway through what most guidebooks call pitch 9. A pitch of low fifth class chimneys followed and then Mike led what we both agreed was the best pitch of the route. It was a long left facing corner with good rock and fun, sustained climbing. Another 150 feet of low fifth class climbing and we unroped to scramble up the top of the Beckey route. On the summit we met a pair of climbers who agreed to join forces and turn two rappels into one with both of our ropes. Before long we were at the car, changing into flip-flops and strategizing how to stay awake for the long drive home.

Summit shot atop Liberty Bell.

Our rack for The Backbone:

• 1 set of nuts
• 1 ea. green – red Alien
• 1 ea. #.75 – #3, #6 BD C4

Our rack for Liberty Crack:

• 1 set of nuts
• 1 set of HB offsets
• #.5, #1, #1.5 Tricam
• 1 ea. 0 TCU
• 2 ea. #.4 - #2 BD C4 (or similar) including 2/3 and 3/4 Metolius Offset TCUs
• 1 ea. #3, #4 BD C4
• 1 ea. BD Grappling Hook

The offset gear was really useful (especially the nuts) but not indispensable. A second set of regular nuts would suffice.

The Liberty Bell Group. South Early Winter Spire, North Early Winter Spire, Lexington Tower, Concord Tower (not visible), and Liberty Bell (l to r). Liberty Bell's east face is in the shade.

Choosing The Right Boots For Alpine Climbing

Recently, I was having an email conversation with a client about what boots he should get for his trip. By the time the conversation was over I realized I had written some fairly useful information about alpine climbing boots, which could be handy for anyone planning a trip. This blog post grew from that seed.

Of all the gear we bring with us on an alpine climb, boots are one of the most important pieces. It's much easier to make do with the wrong jacket or harness. Having the wrong boots can stop a climb in it's tracks, and it's worth doing the research and trying on as many as possible to find the perfect pair for your route.

I use Scarpa and La Sportiva as examples here because I'm most familiar with their products. This is because they are the most widely available in the U.S. and they also fit my feet well. There are a lot of other good boot companies out there, including Kayland, Zamberlan, Asolo, Lowa, Boreal, and Salewa. It's all about what fits.

"Shank" is a term that historically has referred to a metal bar or plate running the length of the boot sole to add stiffness. "Full shank" boots are very stiff longitudinally and are appropriate for water ice and steep alpine ice climbing. "3/4 shank" boots are softer fore-to-aft and hike and climb rock better than boots with a full shank but do not climb water ice or steep alpine ice very well. These days manufacturers create that stiffness with different materials, but we still use the terms to refer to the performance characteristics of the boots.

What follows is a list of the basic types of mountain boots, with pros and cons, and examples of models in italics. 

My high mileage La Sportiva Trango S Evo. The "red boot" is the classic three season climbing boot. One size 42.5 boot weighs 740g or 26.1oz.

Three Season: La Sportiva Trango Cube, Trango S Evo (the red boots); Scarpa Charmoz Pro. Uninsulated, 3/4 shank. Appropriate for use in the summer, on warmer spring and fall trips depending on conditions, and on shorter/less steep alpine ice. Lots of ankle mobility and very light. Climbs rock relatively well, does okay on moderate alpine ice. Not very good for water ice or steep, sustained alpine ice. Compatible with strap-on and "semi-auto" crampon bindings. The red boots changed the paradigm for this category and led the way in current lightweight developments. 

La Sportiva Trango Extreme Evo Light GTX, a single boot with a long name.

La Sportiva Nepal Evo Women's single boot. One size 39.5 boot weighs 970g or 34.4oz.

Single Boots: La Sportiva Nepal Cube, Nepal Evo, Trango Extreme Evo Lt (the silver boots); Scarpa Mont Blanc, Mont Blanc Pro and Rebel Pro. Insulated, full shank. Appropriate for use on winter day trips and sustained steep alpine or water ice. Can be used for winter overnights (I've used them for a 5 day trip) but keeping your feet dry becomes big challenge as the trip goes on. Wet feet are cold feet. The silver boots and Rebel Pro are at the lighter end of this category. Both weigh less but have less support and less insulation (particularly the Rebels) than other single boots. Single boots are what folks are using for most winter climbing in the lower 48 and lower altitude Canada, and for sustained summer ice in The Sierra and Cascades. Compatible with all crampon bindings. 

The toe area of a three season boot (left) and single boot (right). Note the prominent reinforced lip or "welt" on the single boot. This is for fully automatic crampon bindings, the kind with the wire in front. All single, 1.5, and double mountain boots have a welt in the front. If your mountain boot doesn't, it's not good for ice climbing.

1.5 Boots: This is a new category in the last 5 years or so. Insulated, full shank. It's a single boot with an integrated gaiter that covers the whole thing. Performs like a single boot, but warmer. Kind of a niche boot. Might be a bit easier to dry out on overnights. Will keep your feet warm year-round in the lower 48 and lower altitude Canada; and lower altitude Alaska after mid-May if you're careful. A bit warm for lower 48 in the summer. Compatible with all crampon bindings. La Sportiva Batura; Scarpa Phantom Guide.

La Sportiva Spantik, a double boot.

Double Boots: Insulated, full shank, with a removable liner. You can take the liner into your sleeping bag at night and dry it out. This lets you have dry (and therefore warm) feet day after day. Sometimes called "6000 meter boots", which refers to the sort of altitudes they're used at. Heavy. Stiff uppers don't handle rock or mixed climbing as well, though the Phantom 6000's are alright. Appropriate for really cold conditions and long trips, Alaska and higher altitude Canada. Compatible with all crampon bindings. La Sportiva Baruntse and Spantik; Scarpa Phantom 6000.

So what to get? For folks who are involved in any outdoor pursuit (climbing, backpacking, mountain and road biking, skiing and snowboarding, paddling) at any even remotely serious level the idea of a "quiver of one" for gear doesn't work. There's no perfect boot for everything, and the more things you do the more true that becomes. A pair of double boots will keep your feet warm and dry in the gnarliest conditions this continent has to offer, but wearing them on a summer ascent of Mount Rainer's Disappointment Cleaver or Polemonium Peak's V-Notch Couloir will have you hating life. On the other hand, spend a few days at any water ice crag in the lower 48 and you're bound to see some poor soul trying to climb steep ice in three season boots.

The only alpine climbers who own one pair of boots are those who haven't bought their second pair yet. Those who own two pairs usually either own a pair of three season boots and a pair of singles, or a pair of single boots and a pair of doubles.

Fit is the most important selection criteria. Weight comes second. If gear shops near you carry several different models, rejoice. If not, several online retailers offer free return shipping. Order a few different models, wear them around the house for a week, and then decide. You can't try on too many different pairs. Aftermarket insoles (like Superfeet) can do wonders for improving fit. The liners of double boots can be thermo-formed (or "cooked") to your feet at a good ski shop, look for the most grizzled boot-fitter on staff. Some climbing shops (like Mammoth Mountaineering) also offer this service.

Alpine climbing is a gear intensive sport. All that gear costs money. If you don't want to buy a lot of gear, you have other choices from the climbing buffet. Bouldering and sport climbing are both great ways to enjoy the vertical realm with a lot less equipment. If you still want to go to the mountains, get the right boots for your trip. They last a long time and have a reasonable resale value if you end up deciding that alpine climbing is not for you.

The Dawn Wall, The New York Times, and being cool

Every person who isn't in a coma right now (and maybe some who are, medical science still doesn't totally understand what's going on in there) knows that Tommy Caldwell and Kevin Jorgeson finally sent the Dawn Wall. That's because, unlike a lot of other climbing feats, this one made it into the mainstream media. Brian Williams talked about it in his nightly newscast, Melissa Block from NPR spoke with Kevin and Tommy on the air, and on January 4 The New York Times ran a piece about it. I didn't read that article, but I did read something Brendan Leonard wrote in the Adventure Journal that collected the best of the negative comments from the Times article.

Reading those negative comments was depressing. My wife and my buddy Vic both reminded me that the comments weren't that big of a deal, and that there were probably lots of good comments on the article too. They're right on both counts, internet comments should be taken lightly, and many of the over 500 comments on the article are positive. Still, it irked me to see people hating on a major achievement in a pursuit that's so important to me. The haters are probably voting citizens, and with their votes help shape public policy and the way our public lands are managed for recreation.

Most of the negative comments had their roots in a lack of understanding of the basic facts of what those guys were doing. If their opinion of what was going on was more informed maybe it would be more positive, maybe they would be more likely to encourage their elected officials to support and protect recreational opportunities.

So here's the call to action: next time a member of the non-climbing public stops you to ask about what you're doing, whether you're at a backcountry trailhead with a rope on your pack, or at a front country crag walking back to your car, be cool. Answer their questions. Their interest in our crazy passion is totally sensible, and the fact that you just sent your project does not make you a better person than them. This is an opportunity to create an ally or an enemy for climbers. Which would you rather have?