Rappelling

Rappelling was once considered a prerequisite skill for any climber navigating 5th class terrain. It was a mainstay of introductory texts, climbing classes, and novice climbers were often taught to rappel before they ever climbed their first pitch. 

Much of that has changed, and large numbers of climbers enjoy all kinds of outings where rappelling is both unnecessary and perhaps unwise. Many toprope venues do not require rappelling during setup, many sport climbing venues are equipped to quickly clean anchors by lowering, bouldering usually does not require any form of technical ropework (much less rappelling), and most modern climbing gyms flatly disallow rappelling. As a result, rappelling is something that many climbers understand conceptually (having lowered each other) but fewer have actually experienced. As a result, when rappelling accidents happen to beginners we often discover that the contexts of rappelling were not perfectly understood, the fundamental physics of rappelling were confused, and the variability of the rigging was understated or oversimplified by mentors and instructional materials. 

A generation ago, every climber learned to rappel. Early rappel techniques, like the Dulfersitz, helped climbers learn the relationship between the body and rope friction. These techniques still work, but they don't provide many options for backups or added security.

By comparison, experienced climbers have often rappelled hundreds or thousands of times, but an unfortunate number of us also seem to be randomly involved in rappelling accidents. In these cases, preventative practices like knotted rope ends, using backups, and a system of careful double-checks were often overlooked or ignored, even though the value of these techniques is undisputed. 

In this article, we hope to create a resource for novice climbers to understand what rappelling is, the contexts in which it happens most commonly, and a set of principles that should govern the rigging. We also hope to address any reader that may be well into their rappelling career. Perhaps some will find reasons to adopt practices that they have historically ignored, or revise the practices they are currently committed to using regularly. In some cases, this article may simply validate what a reader is already doing, but in that case we hope it might also give them a vernacular for communicating with their friends, students, and mentees. 

What is rappelling?

To put it most simply, rappelling is just lowering your own mass down a climbing rope. In belaying, the belayer remains stationary and the rope moves. In rappelling, the rope remains stationary, there is no belayer, and the rappeller is the thing that is moving.

Once a climber has rappelled a few times, these distinctions seem painfully obvious. But, as thousands of climbing instructors will attest, until a person has experienced the fundamental difference between being lowered and rappelling, it’s not obvious at all. A rappeller has independence, agency, and control in a way that a person being lowered does not. That can be advantageous, but it also means that rappellers sometimes lose the advantages and redundancy of team work.

There are two main variations to rappelling mechanics: fixed-line rappelling and counterweight  rappelling. In fixed line rappelling, a climbing rope is connected to an anchor, the rope remains stationary, and the rappeller can rappel all the way down to the other end of the rope. In counterweight rappelling, a climbing rope is not fixed.  Instead the rope runs freely through a rappel station, set of carabiners, or around an object. In this arrangement, a rappeller must capture both strands of rope within the rappel in order to counterweight around the rappel anchor point, and the rope can be retrieved from below.

In counterweight rappelling, a rope runs freely through a rappel fixture.  As a result, a rappel device must capture both strands of the rappel rope. The rappeller effectively counterweights themselves. 

In fixed line rappelling, the rappel rope is affixed to an anchor, so the rappeller does not need to effect a counterweight. The rappeller can rappel a single strand of rope.

When do climbers rappel?

Climbers rappel for two main reasons, in two primary contexts: single pitch rappelling and multistage rappelling. Both options are slightly different, and a climber learns to adapt the rigging, the device selection, and the anchoring accordingly.

Multistage rappelling happens when climbers ascend a multipitch climb and descend the feature through a sequence of rappels. They climb a big wall, up up up, in sections, and then they rappel, down down down, in sections. 

Single pitch rappelling. Climbers also occasionally rappel when they clean anchors in a single pitch setting. Sometimes, local custom or policy require climbers to rappel when they clean. Sometimes, lowering is not an option. Sometimes, rappelling is needed in emergencies. 

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“The first step in avoiding any climbing incidents is good prior planning.  Get all the information you can from the guidebooks.  It is also a good idea to take a copy of a route topo—even if you have done the route before.  And consider looking at blogs and talking with friends or acquaintances for information.

Equipment inspection before each season—and before each climb—is always important. Is it time to retire your ropes, slings, or harness? Look closely at all the gear to see if there are any obvious wear and tear issues and consult the manufacturers for recommendations.

Double-check any critical system carefully before committing to it.  Look through and inspect all critical links, carabiners, the rope’s integrity, the harness’ key points (buckles, belay loops, and connection points).  It’s always helpful to have a partner nearby so that climbers can double check each other.

Decide how the climbing team will communicate before the need for communication arises, minimize the amount of words needed to relay information unambiguously, and focus on communications that initiate action.”

— Rob Hess, UIAGM/IFMGA. From Accidents in North American Mountaineering 2012.

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Fundamental Principles of Rappelling

1. You should be secure during the setup because rappels are often rigged in proximity to cliff’s edges and precipices, and even careful and experienced climbers are endangered by that kind of exposure. 

2. You should use appropriate backups because a variety of factors make it likely that a rappeller will lose control of the rappel.  

3. You should manage the ends of the rope because we often rappel in the dark, when tired, with unfamiliar ropes and in unfamiliar terrain, and since we often rappel rapidly, the ends of the rope can present a unique hazard. 

4. Avoid Entanglements. Rappelling involves a lot of rope that must be carefully managed and rappel devices that notoriously entrap hair, hoody-strings, straps, and clothing, the last principle asks us to manage the rope and manage ourselves to avoid entanglements.

Security During Setups

There are lots of ways to be secure during setup. Generally, the options fork into two initial categories: technical and non-technical. Non-technical security does not involve anchors or tethers or carabiners. It’s simply staying away from a cliff’s edge or staying seated when setups are awkwardly close to a cliff’s edge.

Technical security uses some sort of tether, sling, PAS, or the climbing rope to connect the climber to an anchor during setup. The context of the rappelling usually inspires a wide range of variations among the tethering methods. 

With their back turned towards a precipitous cliff's edge and their attention focused on setup tasks, these climbers are using technical security (a tether and locking carabiner) to stay secured during setup. 

“Notes on appropriate set up:
Be sure that the rope actually passes through the rappel device properly, that a bight includes the carabiner and that the carabiner / extension is properly attached to harness. If pre-rigging – all partners get eyes on each other’s systems.”

— Rob Hess, UIAGM/IFMGA. Accidents in North American Mountaineering 2012.

Appropriate Backups

A rappel backup effectively provides a backup for the rappeller’s brake hand. If the rappeller were to release their grip of the brake strand for any reason (losing control, rockfall, medical emergency) the backup would effectively hold the rope instead of the rappeller’s brake hand. There are three common variations: a friction hitch backup, a firefighter’s belay, or the use of an Assisted Braking Device.

Friction Hitch Backup

A Friction Hitch Backup can be quickly paired with any tube style rappel device, but the setup has to be precisely configured. If a backup doesn't work when you need it to, it constitutes little more than wasted time, material, and effort. Common examples include friction hitch backups that are poorly dressed, iced or frozen, or they don’t assert enough friction to grip the brake strands with adequate braking power. Also, if a friction hitch backup is too long, it will push up against a rappel device, pushing the hitch along instead of allowing it to grip the brake strands.  It’s important to get the lengths just right so that the backup engages. On steeper rappels, an inverted rappeller can easily bring the friction hitch into dangerous proximity to the rappel device. 

Precise rigging is vital to an effective rappel backup. It's not enough to apply a friction hitch; the distances and positions of all the pieces have to be just right.

When we don't pay attention to the details, when the rigging is imprecise, our backups are ineffective. This climber has wasted a lot of time and energy rigging a backup that won't work.

Since the rigging of friction hitch backups has to be so precise, many rappellers prefer to extend their rappel devices away from their harnesses. In this configuration, the friction hitch backup can be connected directly to the belay loop. In general, extensions allow for a greater margin of error in the rigging of rappels and their backups, which is advantageous.

An extension built with a double length nylon sling positions a rappel device far enough from a belay loop that almost any friction hitch backup will be effective.

An autoblock friction hitch is a great option when tying a rappel backup.  A small loop of 5mm nylon can be quickly deployed for the task.

The auto block is tied by enwrapping the brake strand(s) of the rappel, as many times as the material length allows...

...and the autoblock is completed by rejoining the nylon loop with the locking carabiner.

There are eternal debates about the type and style of extension used to separate a rappel device from the harness. Suffice it to say, there are many adequate options. As long as the option is adequately strong and secure, without compromising overall efficiency, it's probably a good one. Some of the most common alternatives include a Personal Anchoring System (PAS) or quickdraw with locking carabiners. For multipitch rappelling, an extension that has a modular leg can be used to both extend the rappel and clip into anchors during rappel transitions.

A locker draw extension.

A PAS extension.

An offset extension is great for multistage descents.

Firefighter’s Belay

Firefighter’s Belays are effective backups too, but they have to be executed correctly.  To provide a firefighter’s belay, the belayer should be attentive, with eyes on the rappeller and hands on the brake strand(s) of the rope. If the rappeller were to lose control of the rappel, the attentive belayer would pull down assertively on the brake strand(s) in order to effect enough braking force to halt the rappeller’s descent. Much like a poorly rigged friction hitch backup, a firefighter’s belay that is inattentive, loose, or off the fall line will likely be ineffective.

When this climber offers a firefighter's belay, she means it.  She's attentive and ready to halt the rappeller at any moment.

When rappellers lose control it happens quickly and unexpectedly, but a quick and firm tug on the brake strands will bring the rappeller to a halt.

Managing The Ends of the Rope

Managing the ends of the climbing rope is often a vital technique to keep rappellers from rapping off the end of the rope. Commonly, the ends of the rope are either conjoined or bulky stopper knots are tied, such that the knot that would ram into a friction hitch or rappel device, reliably arresting the rappel.

A pair of bulky stopper knots are among the easiest ways to manage the ends of the rope.

Conjoining the rope ends and carrying them to the ground has the added advantage of managing the ends of the rope while also avoiding tossing ropes down the cliff.

Avoid Entanglements

It’s important to keep anything from getting snagged in a rappel tool, and it’s also important to keep one’s ropes organized and moving fluidly. Entanglements of hair, clothing, or the rope can create serious problems while rappelling, especially in adverse conditions.

Tossing Ropes

It is rarely necessary or expedient to throw ropes down a cliff. Often, the tails of rope can be gently lowered to the ground, or a bight of rope can be lowered and the tails carried to the ground by the rappeller. It’s also likely that tossed ropes will land on other climbers, in places that are difficult to retrieve (trees or cracks), or places that are awkwardly gross (mud, poop, carrion, etc). A rappeller can avoid entanglements by avoiding tossing ropes.

Conclusion

It is a worthwhile thought experiment to imagine how climbers create margins of error, how we use backups, and how/when we selectively (and hopefully carefully) disregard those techniques. Typically, a climber navigating 5th class terrain uses a rope system to mitigate the risk of ground or ledge impact, but sometimes we intentionally neglect to place enough protection to effectuate the rope system we’re tied to. Those are enormously risky behaviors, but we tend to engage in them quite readily when we perceive there to be a low probability of incident, like when the climbing is easy or unremarkable. Similarly, a small portion of climbers free-solo in 5th class terrain, and their calculation is identical: they perceive there to be a low probability of incident, and they therefore eschew a rope system altogether.

The indisputable reality is that good climbers fall off of easy terrain every year.  Experienced rappellers lose control, rap off the ends of rope, or incorrectly rig their rappels. As a species, humans don’t always reconcile their rational/analytical response to risk with their intuitive/emotional response. As a result, best practices like using backups, managing the ropes ends, staying secure during setups, and careful double checks are often characterized as overly conservative, burdensome, and slow. Similarly, eschewing these practices altogether, which is actually tantamount to free-soloing in a demonstrable ways, can be characterized as a matter of preference, style, or status.

Instead, take the time to appreciate that each rappel is merely similar to all previous rappels. In quantifiable ways, every rappel is also dissimilar to all previous rappels.  If that is true, the way we rappel is also merely similar to the way we rappelled on every previous occasion. The solutions we use to descend our next rappel will be unique in appreciable ways. So, the fundamental principles of rappelling can be used as a unique questionnaire for every rappel.  A rappeller should have compelling and accurate responses to each of these questions before rappelling:

Am I secure while I setup the rappel?

Am I using appropriate backups?

Am I managing the ends of the rope?

Am I avoiding entanglements? 

Know the Ropes: How to Rappel  

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Climber Communication

 

In the United States, many incidents and inefficiencies are caused by miscommunication within a climbing team. Often, highly consequential information needs to be relayed between climbers and belayers, and miscommunicating that information has unfortunately resulted in grave consequences. At the American Alpine Club, we have been gathering these unfortunate stories for over a century, and many incidents could have been entirely avoided had the team communicated more clearly. However, any skill that involves the use of language tends to resist standardization; it’s a challenge that has frustrated American climbers in all disciplines.

One of the first climbers to try to address these challenges was Paul Petzoldt. In The Wilderness Handbook he writes, “Unindoctrinated by the standard European techniques and philosophies of [the world war-era], I developed some new skills and ideas. I invented the first voice-signal system (now universally used in America).” American climbers have largely adopted and gravitated to some version of Petzoldt’s verbal commands for the last 100 years, because his assertions are as true today as they ever have been. Petzoldt wrote:

The human voice is difficult to hear and understand on a mountain. The belayer might be out of his companion’s sight, words do not carry well around rock projections, wind and rain sometimes make conversations impossible, even at short distances. Because of such interferences, I have developed voice signals that are brief and intelligible even when faintly heard.

Petzoldt’s innovation was insightful, and it informs the concepts espoused in this article. But, the Petzoldt voice signals that sound so familiar to so many climbers, can easily be obfuscated by a busy crag, dialect or nuances in pronunciation, and by the use of names within the voice signals—names distort the syllabic distinction that Petzoldt originally devised.

Communication, as a concept, has to be grounded in something less complex than language or speech or any group of practices that is so easily undermined by the nuances of dozens of individual cultures. It’s important to remember that communication is not always about language. Climbers who do not have the ability to hear, to speak, or to see have always managed to communicate with others, and those individuals climb in the United States as well. There is a need to address climber communication in a way to focuses on the essential goal climbers are trying to achieve, and language is only one of many ways climbers communicate.

In this article, we will explore why communication is so vital to climbers. We will explore the principles that should govern communication in all contexts, and from those principles we will make recommendations that are mostly likely to work in most contexts.

Why is Communication so vital to climbers?

Communication often results in establishing or relinquishing safety systems, like a belay, and establishing or relinquishing a safety system inappropriately can be dangerous.

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Climbing environments make communication difficult. Climbers find themselves in cacophonous surroundings (windy and rainy conditions, busy crags and climbing gyms with lots of competing voices, loud environments like roadsides, roaring rivers and streams, chirping and singing wildlife). Climbers are often out of sight of one another, making traditional nonverbal communication difficult.

Climbing environments often make communication difficult.  The sound of the ocean, in this case, makes it important address the fundamental principles of effective climber communication before the climbing starts.

Fundamental Communication Principles

Fundamentally, all formal climbing communication serves to mitigate the inherent hazards of climbing. Many of the climbing commands typically employed concern management of the rope system, which in turn affects the belay and the security of the person being belayed. The simple command “On belay” may be the best example of a rope system command. An additional set of commands exists to address the hazard of falling objects, “Rope!” and “Rock!” being the most prominent examples.

Effective formal communication in a climbing system relies on commands that follow three foundational principles:

Communication Agreement. Communication between climbers and belayers should be anchored to a script that is agreed upon prior to the need for the communication.

Communication Precision. Communication should strive to minimize the amount of oral traffic needed to relay information between parties.

Communication Action. Communication should imply an impending action, and therefore should unambiguously initiate that action. Communication also may be used to affirm the completion of an action.

Communication Agreement

Climbing commands are only effective if all members of the climbing party agree on what commands will be used and the explicit actions they imply. For example, there are a number of commands associated with eliminating slack from a belay system, including, “Take,” “Tension,” “Up rope,” and “That’s me.” Each of these commands carries a nuanced meaning that must be known by the belayer in advance in order for her to respond appropriately when her climber issues such a command.

Every climber can appreciate what it's like to call for tension in the rope system.  Paul Petzold originally specified "TENSION" as the preferred voice signal, because it has two syllables, just like all the other commands that involve tightening the belay.  Today, "TAKE" is a common command, but the single syllable can easily be confused with "SLACK," which is the opposite of what this climber wants right now.

Establishing different formal climbing commands prior to every climbing outing with a new partner can inconvenience the climbing experience in little ways, but it's almost always worth the a little inconvenience at the beginning of the day in order to avoid an accident. Once the communication agreement has been established, a climbing team can default to that agreement until the conditions or the context necessitates an adjustment.  

There are common tropes and patterns that speakers of American English will recognize, regardless of region or background. Still, slight variations persist from one group of climbers to the next, and climbers should engrain the ritual of affirming their communication strategy before the climbing outing begins. The most common theme in miscommunication-related incidents involve climbers who neglected to have a vital “agreement” conversation prior to their climb. A simple conversation would have alleviated the confusion.

Communication Precision

Another common theme in miscommunication is over-communication. The climbing team might attempt to rely on informal communication and conversation when precise and unambiguous commands are needed. The communication might be redundant and therefore unnecessary. In both cases, the climbing team fails to appreciate that precision (communicating a precise action, no more and no less) is a fundamental concept.

When conditions are challenging, informal communication should be entirely eliminated to prevent miscommunication of important formal commands. For example, if the leader has climbed around a corner and into the wind, she would be wise to only use formal climbing commands with her partner to prevent being taken off belay prematurely.

Similarly, redundant commands over-communicate and create ambiguity. Some novice lead climbers use the commands “Clipping” and “Clipped” to inform their belayer that they will be clipping the rope into a quickdraw. “Clipping” implies that the leader will need additional slack to clip the carabiner; the formal command “Slack” is already used to alert the belayer to introduce slack into the belay system. “Clipping” is therefore a redundant communication.

“Clipped” suffers from problems with both redundancy and ambiguity; two meanings may be implied. First, the leader may be asking the belayer to remove unnecessary slack from the belay system (in which case a number of commands may do the job). Second, the leader may also be asking the belayer to check the clip: is the leader back-clipped? Z- clipped? Often, this task is impractical or impossible for the belayer to accomplish. Finally, both, “Clipping,” and, “Clipped” are unnecessary assuming the belayer is attentive. No system of communication, even if it is fundamentally thoughtful, can compensate for inadequate belaying.

"CLIPPING" and "CLIPPED" are rarely vital communications if the belayer is attentive.  A climbing team that prioritizes precision will eliminate unnecessary communication in order to minimize ambiguity and miscommunication.

When communication become challenging, eliminating unnecessary command or conversation allows the climbing team to anticipate essential climbing commands based upon their previous communication agreement.

Communication Action

Communication should have a clear and unambiguous relationship with an impending action. For example, “Off belay,” is often used to initiate the deconstruction of a belay system. As any climber can appreciate, the action that corresponds to the communication is often highly consequential, and in many cases an affirmative response to the action helps signify the severity of the action that has occurred. Climbing teams will often use affirmative responses like “Belay off” to signify the completion of an important action. However, any command which does not include or affirm a call to action can easily be interpreted for something it is not intended to be, and such inactive communication should be avoided.

For example, some climbers use the command, “Safe,” or, “In direct,” to imply that they are secured to an anchor in some way. However, these commands are superfluous--there is no action for the partner to take in response to this command, nor is there a corresponding affirmation. Instead, the climber could simply say “Off belay” if intending to secure herself and belay from above as in a multipitch climb. Alternately, the climber could say nothing at all and simply request “Slack,” if cleaning an anchor on a single pitch climb, for example.

Fundamentals of Communication in Practice

The following examples explore the use of fundamental communication principles in real-world scenarios and demonstrate an application of those principles to scenarios that are familiar to many climbers.

Scenario 1: Casual cragging with lots of other parties.

Perhaps the most frequent scenario in modern climbing has the climber and belayer starting together at the base of a pitch. Whether leading or top roping, the commands used are the same. Drawing on the most common climbing commands in the United States, our climber, Maria, queries her belayer: “Jorge, are you on belay?”

As the formal climbing command is a call to action, Jorge physically checks the entire belay system, ensuring his belay device is loaded correctly, the carabiner is locked, his harness is fitted properly, the rope is running properly through an adequate anchor if appropriate, his climber’s harness is fitted properly, and his climber has tied into her harness correctly. When appropriate, Jorge also ensures both he and his climber are wearing helmets. Only after completing all of these checks and confirming them with his partner can Jorge say, “Maria, your belay is on.”

In their communication agreement, Jorge and Maria decided to use each other’s names in their verbal commands. This strategy is particularly important when communicating in a crowded location or noisy environment, such as a climbing gym or a busy sport climbing crag. In the multipitch setting, preceding the command with a name is equally important as it alerts the recipient that a command follows and ensures that adjacent parties do not misinterpret the other party’s communication for their own.

With climbing teams all climbing side by side, the use of names in voice signals is an advisable part of any communication agreement.

Jorge and Maria will use each other’s names to precede all of their verbal commands today, because that is part of their communication agreement, it is a precise way to specify which commands are directed to whom, and the teams needs a way to differentiate between vital commands that initiate action and the informal banter that will surely characterize their time at the crag.

Scenario 2: Multipitch Climbing

Jorge and Maria are now on a multipitch climb. They begin a pitch sharing a stance at an anchor together, so communication is straightforward prior to the lead. However, once Maria tops out the pitch, there’s a need for terse, precise, and unambiguous action-oriented communication. Belays will be deconstructed and the climbing team will be transitioning from one safety system to the next.

In their communication agreement, Jorge had two main concerns. Jorge wanted to know when exactly to start removing his belay device. He had an experience in the past when he thought the leader said “Off Belay.” On that day, the leader was actually shouting to a rappelling party, “I’m out of the way.” Jorge took the leader off belay prematurely that day, and he never wants to make that mistake again. On a completely separate outing, Jorge was taking his GriGri off the rope when the leader started pulling up the rope. The unexpected tug of the rope yanked Jorge’s GriGri out of his hands and it fell all the way down the cliff. Jorge doesn’t want to deal with either of these miscommunication problems again.

Maria and Jorge agreed that names will be less important today on this isolated climb; no other climbers are around. They’ve also agreed that when the leader shouts “Off Belay,” the belayer will immediately shout “Belay Off.” The leader will have one last chance to object, if Jorge has misheard the verbal command. Jorge agrees to wait a short second before deconstructing the belay.

Also, the leader agrees not to start pulling up rope until she hears the belayer shout “Maria, Up Rope.” It’s important for every climbing team to appreciate that Maria and Jorge could’ve agreed on a completely separate sequence here, and a completely separate set of commands to communicate that sequence. The vital point here is the relationship between prior agreement and precision; Maria and Jorge are being conscientious about both fundamental principles.

When the rope is tensioned against Jorge or his attachment to the anchor, he’ll inform his partner by saying, “That’s me.” This signals to Maria that the tension she feels in the rope is due to Jorge’s weight and not some other potential predicament, such as the rope being wedged in a crack or ensnared around a horn of rock. Maria’s call to action with this command is to put Jorge on belay immediately. “On Belay”

Jorge can now prepare to climb, secure in the knowledge that he is belayed from above. When he is ready to climb, he can inform his belayer with a simple, “Climbing!” A reply of, “Climb on!” will see Jorge to the top of the pitch to rejoin his partner.

Note that in the above exchange, Jorge does not query Maria as to whether he is on belay. There is no need as Maria will put Jorge on belay in response to the command of, “That’s me.” Further, Jorge may not be able to see Maria as she concludes her lead. Consequently, he will likely not know for sure when Maria has established an anchor and is ready to belay. In the best case, voicing, “On belay?!” will not elicit a call to action from Maria other than to say “No, not yet,” unless Jorge happens to pick just the right moment to ask. Asking if he is on belay simply introduces unnecessary, informal communication. In the worst case, shouting, “On belay?!” may be misunderstood as “Off belay!” Maria is likely to find this rather alarming if she has yet to complete her lead.

Scenario 3: Communicating without Commands

It is possible for a climbing party to communicate unambiguously without the use of verbal commands, thereby eliminating the potential for poor verbal communication or miscommunication. Provided the party can agree up on a system in advance, this is readily achieved. Let’s revisit the example in scenario 2 to see this in action.

Maria reaches the top of the pitch and secures herself to the anchor. Because they suspected the possibility of poor communication, Jorge and Maria agreed in advance to use only the necessary formal verbal commands. As Maria is secured to the anchor, she shouts, “Off belay!”

Unfortunately, Jorge is unable to hear this command. However, he knows that there are only two reasons that he might need to feed rope to the leader. Either Maria is still leading, or she has arrived at the belay stance and is pulling up excess rope. Since Jorge is unsure which is the case, he simply continues belaying until he reaches his end of the rope. As he did not hear Maria issue the “off belay” command, he has no reason to affirm this command. Instead, he skips this and simply proceeds to the next command, “Maria, that’s me!” He then removes his belay device from the rope.

Maria has pulled the rope until it is tensioned and thinks she hears Jorge shout a command to her, but she’s not positive. Regardless, her next step is clear: put Jorge on belay. She does so promptly and shouts, “On Belay!”

Meanwhile, down below, Jorge is diligently waiting to climb. Prior to starting the climb, Maria and Jorge agreed to a 30- second waiting period. After shouting, “Maria, that’s me!” Jorge waits 30 seconds and then removes himself from the anchor to begin climbing. He does this knowing that Maria will promptly put him on belay after the rope is tensioned, a task that should take no more than 30 seconds. Jorge and Maria could have agreed to any amount of time they felt appropriate; again the prior agreement is the important thing.

After the agreed upon amount of time, Jorge bellows, “Climbing!” and makes a couple moves. He has one last chance to make sure that he is on some form of belay. He’s making sure the rope is travelling up, in the characteristic progression of a belay cycle. In this sequence, Jorge and Maria have accepted that it might also be possible that Maria is not actually belaying. It is possible that she is still leading, and the team is now accidentally simul-climbing. Even though it’s scary and hopefully avoidable, Jorge and Maria appreciate that Jorge will have to climb in that scenario, even if he’s not on belay. What choice does he have?

Meanwhile, back at the top of the pitch, Maria cannot hear Jorge, but she can feel the slack in the rope he generates by climbing. She pulls the rope through the belay system and after a few feet of movement is sure Jorge must be climbing. As a confirmation, she yells, “Climb on!”

Troubleshooting Communication Challenges

Select belay stances and pitch lengths that enable communication, when feasible.

Occasionally, verbal communication is challenging or impossible. This happens most often on multipitch routes and can result from many factors, including a pitch that traverses around a corner or crosses a ridgeline, high winds, or stretching or linking pitches. The best strategy for these situations is simply prevention. Whenever possible, select stances that enable good verbal communication, or even visual communication if possible. Research the route thoroughly to know when your partner might be out of touch. Consider belaying at an appropriate stance even if the guidebook does not indicate the stance as a typical belay point.

This climbing team could have chosen to belay an any number of places.  The huge river gorge, the imposing rough, and the presence of other climbing parties nearby compelled the party to shorten the pitch-length and optimize communication.

The conventional wisdom is that stretching the rope and linking pitches results in a faster ascent as there are fewer belay transitions to be made. However, 15 minutes wasted shouting to a partner 200 or more feet distant certainly bears a greater time cost than two or even three efficient belay transitions.

Visual communication is helpful when verbal commands are inaudible.

Unfortunately, sometimes poor verbal communication simply cannot be prevented. This leaves a few options for alternative communication systems. A visual command system is one such solution. Such a system needs to be established in advance, but can be effective provided that appropriate belay stances are selected. Most often, a negative and affirmative command are all that is needed. For example, when the leader reaches the top of the pitch, she secures herself, then leans out to look down at her belayer and makes a slashing motion across her throat, indicating, “Off belay.” When the belayer has removed the belay device from the rope, he returns the signal. When the leader has put the follower on belay, she leans out and gives a thumbs-up signal straight overhead, indicating, “On belay.”

Beware of Rope Tugs.

A more common approach is a system of rope tugs used by the leader to communicate with the follower when she is off belay. Unfortunately, any system relying on rope tugs introduces significant ambiguity and the potential for miscommunication. For example, the climbing party may agree that three rope tugs from the leader means, “Off belay.” However, the leader might also issue three similar feeling rope tugs as a result of a potentially stuck rope or simple rope drag. If the belayer interprets this as a call to action, though, the leader may find herself unintentionally off belay for the remainder of the pitch.

Many climbing parties enjoy success with the rope tug technique, and their success usually hinges on a smoothly executed rope line, and a discipline avoidance of any rope movement that could be interrupted as a tug.

A second rope can be a communication tool too.

When climbing with two ropes, whether half ropes, a lead line and tag line, or as a party of three, the leader can unambiguously communicate the “off belay” command. Upon securing herself to the anchor, the leader’s next step is to pull up the ropes. By pulling up the trailing line first (or only one of the half ropes), the leader can clearly indicate that she is stopped at the belay stance as the lead rope is not moving.  

Just like the rope tugs, there can be opportunities for ambiguity here.  It helps for the climbing teams to consciously avoid these signals.  If the isolated movement of one of two ropes is agreed to be an "Off Belay" signal, a leader should not move that rope independently unless she is off belay.

Radios, Cell Phones, and Technology

FRS radios are another option and can ease communication considerably over long distances or in poor conditions. However, radios have a number of drawbacks, including weight and costs. Further, radio communication quality varies, both in transmission clarity and range. Additionally, radios rely on battery power, yielding an additional battery to manage. Should batteries die, over- reliance on radios may also leave a party ill-prepared to use an alternative form of communication. Despite these costs, radios can be effective and beneficial in appropriate contexts, such as multi-party climbing, expeditionary climbing, and complex ski descents. Similarly cell phones and text messages have a comparable potential and drawbacks. These technologies all present the same conclusion to a climbing team: do not rely too heavily on technology. Climbers have been communicating quite effectively without these technologies, and those traditional communications skills have value. 

Pre-Climb Communication

Special Thanks to Contributors

Derek Debruin is from Weber State University in Ogden Utah.  Derek is an AMGA certified Rock Guide and owner of Bear House Mountain Guiding.  Derek wrote much of the content of this article.

Also, members of the AAC Education Task Force were enormously helpful with feedback and commentary on this article.  Special thanks to Mark Vermeal, Jon Tierney, Dale Remsberg, Dougald MacDonald, Aram Attarian.  AAC Staff were also a great help.  Thanks Phil and Whitney in particular.

Belaying

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The following article is reproduced from the 2016 edition of Accidents in North American Climbing. Author: Ron Funderburke.

Climbers have been belaying for as long as they’ve been using ropes. We use some type of belay in almost every roped climbing context—it is the essential skill that unites all disciplines. It’s interesting, therefore, to see how little agreement there is about the “best” belay techniques, how distracting our assertions about belaying tend to be, and how rigidly dogmatic we can be about a task that many understand so imperfectly.

This dogmatic approach persists even though using a rope to belay something valuable—whether a load of cargo on a ship or a climber on a cliff—has always been organized by three fundamental principles:

• There should be a brake hand on the rope at all times.

• Any time the brake hand slides along the rope, the rope should be in the brake position.

• The hands and limbs should be positioned according to their natural strength.

These are the principles that we should use to evaluate belaying, yet our discussion of “good” or “bad” belaying often revolves around a specific biomechanical sequence. It’s time to abandon this way of talking and thinking about belaying. It’s misleading, reductive, and provokes more arguments that it solves.

Meanwhile, a cursory perusal of any edition of Accidents reveals there are severe consequences for imprecise understanding of belaying. In recent years, 5 to 10 percent of all incidents reported have involved inadequate belays.

This edition of Know the Ropes will equip readers with language and principles that unify all belay contexts. Additionally, for those who are new to belaying, those who want to learn to belay in different contexts, or those who aren’t sure about their current technique, this article will provide some suggestions for how to do so in a fundamentally sound way.

THE ORIGINS OF BELAYING PRINCIPLES

The earliest belayers used the most primitive technique: The belayer held the rope tightly and did not let go under any circumstance. Belayers had to be very strong, and the rope had to be kept very tight. And the brake hand had to be on the rope at all times. Even the strongest belayers and the lightest climbers wouldn’t stand a chance without this fundamental principle. 

The addition of friction to the belay system allowed smaller belayers to secure bigger climbers. Wrapping the rope around features in mountain terrain or the belayer’s body provided enough friction to hold larger loads. 

Friction also introduced two new realities to belaying. First, friction could be increased and decreased, creating a “belay cycle.” Increased friction is valuable when holding a load; decreased friction is valuable when trying to move rope through the system.

The second new reality was that friction allowed the belayer to relax a little. In the more primitive form of belaying, without friction, the belayer’s hand-over-hand technique maintained a constant grip on the rope. By contrast, a belay system with friction allows the belayer to relax [their] grip at some points in the cycle, which, naturally, deprioritizes vigilance.

These changes led to the second fundamental principle of belaying: Since every belay cycle has a point of high friction, it makes sense to spend as much time in that position as possible. Therefore, whenever the brake hand slides along the rope, the rope should be in the brake position. If a climber falls while the brake hand is sliding on the rope, it obviously will be easier and quicker to arrest the fall if the rope is already in the brake position.

Since the addition of friction to the system, every major evolution in belaying has involved some sort of technology. First came the carabiner, which not only allowed belayers to augment their friction belays but also invited the use of hitches, tied to carabiners, as belay tools. The most effective of these was the Munter hitch. 

The Munter hitch offered a braking position that was the same as the pulling position, so the belay cycle was easy to teach and learn. It soon became the predominant belay technique in all disciplines. (Before the advent of reliable protection, dynamic belays, and nylon ropes, belaying was primarily the duty of the leader. A second might belay the leader, but the leader was not expected to fall, nor was it widely expected that a leader fall could be caught.) The Munter hitch, belaying a second from above, conforms naturally to the third fundamental principle of belaying: It positions the hands, limbs, and body according to their natural strength. It keeps the belay comfortable and strong throughout the belay cycle, and while taking rope in, catching falls, holding weight, and lowering.

THE MODERN ERA

An era ago, these fundamental principles were not really in dispute. They applied to body belays (hip belays, butt belays, shoulder belays, boot-axe belays, etc.), terrain belays (belays over horns, boulders, and ridgelines), and belays on carabiners (Munter hitch). However, by the Second World War, climbers began to use nylon ropes and other equipment that could handle the forces of leader falls. Moreover, climbing clubs, schools, and enthusiasts began to experiment with redirecting the climbing rope through a top anchor, so that belaying on the ground, for both the leader and follower, became much more common. Pushing the limits of difficulty also became more common— leading to more falling.

Belayers around the world also began to experiment with new belay tools that redirected the braking position 180 degrees—the most common early example was the Sticht plate, but the same principle applies to today’s tube-style devices. Instead of the brake strand of rope running in the same direction as the loaded strand (the climber’s strand), the belayer had to hold the brake strand in the opposite direction.

For many years, instructors and textbooks explained how to use these new manual belay devices (MBDs) by defaulting to the hand and body positions that had become entrenched from the use of the Munter hitch and the hip belay. The most common of these was the hand-up (supinated) brake-hand position on the rope. 

The stronger, more comfortable technique with MBDs is a hand-down (pronated) position with the brake hand, and newer texts and instructors often adopted this technique, in order to connect the new technology with the fundamental principles of belay. But the resulting cacophony—with belay instruction varying wildly—gave students and climbers the impression that belaying did not have any governing principles. 

We climbers have our sectarian instincts, and climbers today are as likely to argue the relative merits of various belay techniques as they are to argue about the merits of sport climbing and trad climbing, alpine style and expedition style. The goal of this article is to redirect all belayers’ attention to two indisputable truths: 

• Belaying happens in many, many different contexts. 

• Belaying in every context is most effective when it is based on the three fundamental principles, which long preceded any arguments we are currently having. 

THE CONTEXTS OF BELAYING

Even though we generally learn to belay in a fairly simple context (top-roping), belaying is much more diverse than what happens in an Intro to Climbing class. The most appropriate belay techniques can vary widely depending on the setting (gym, multi-pitch crag, alpine climb, etc.) and whether the climber is leading or following. Most generally, belaying happens in three different ways, using different techniques and tools for each: friction belays, counterweight belays, and direct belays. 

FRICTION BELAYS

In a friction belay, the rope runs directly between the belayer and climber, and there might not be any anchor. The potential holding power of the belay is relative to the amount of friction one can generate, the strength of the belayer’s grip, and the resilience of the object providing friction. 

Friction belays are most common in mountaineering (though there are other contexts where they provide efficient and prudent options). In the mountains, there usually are long stretches of terrain where a full anchor is not necessary and building and deconstructing anchors might dangerously delay the climbers. 

Most commonly, the belayer will select a feature of the terrain to belay or use [their] body to create friction. The belay stance must replace the security that an anchor might have provided, whether by bracing one’s feet, belaying over the top of a ridgeline, or another method. Any terrain features used to provide friction or a stance must be carefully inspected to ensure they are solid and won’t create a rockfall hazard. 

COUNTERWEIGHT BELAYS

Whether climbing single-pitch routes or belaying the leader on a multi-pitch climb, these are the most commonly used belay techniques. The climbing rope is redirected through a top anchor or a leader’s top piece of protection, and the belayer provides a counterweight, coupled with effective belay technique and tools, to hold or lower the climber or catch a fall. 

Even though there are plenty of exceptions, the vast majority of American climbing happens in a single-pitch setting, on a climb that is less than 30 meters tall. The belayers and climbers generally are comparably sized, and the belayer is comfortably situated on the ground. Belaying this way provides a more social atmosphere, allowing for banter, camaraderie, and coaching. That’s why climbing gyms, climbing programs, and most casual outings gravitate toward this belay context. 

However, the ease and comfort of single-pitch counterweight belays do not liberate the belayer from serious responsibilities. Thankfully, there are several different biomechanical sequences for belaying a top-rope that fall under the halo of the three fundamental principles. Each of the three techniques outlined below comes with a set of pros and cons that makes it the preferred methods of certain groups of climbers, instructors, and programs. 

PBUS

The top-roping belay technique commonly known as PBUS resonates with climbing instructors and mentors because it emphasizes the fundamental principles so distinctly. The hand transition is securely in the braking position, and it’s hard to imagine the belayer losing control if the climber were to fall while the hand was sliding. Plus, the ergonomics of the technique keep the wrist and grip pronated.

PBUS is most effective when a top-roper is moving slowly and hanging frequently. When the climber moves quickly and proficiently, a strict adherence to this technique often causes the belay setup to collapse, which could allow the belay carabiner to cross-load. It’s also harder to move slack quickly enough to keep up with a proficient climber. 

HAND OVER HAND

If the belayer alternates brake hands, [they are] able to move slack through the belay cycle more quickly than with PBUS. As long as the brake hands are alternating in the braking position, this technique abides by the fundamental principles of belay, and it is a preferred technique for experienced belayers and for top-ropers who move quickly. 

Many instructors and mentors dislike this technique because it allows the belayer to keep “a” brake hand on at all times, instead of keeping “the” brake hand on at all times. As a result, this technique is usually relegated to more experienced teams.

SHUFFLE

The shuffle technique is most applicable when using an assisted-braking device (ABD) to belay, but it can be used with manual devices by a very experienced belayer (read more about assisted-braking devices). It requires the belayer to have a refined sense of how to grip the rope with varying degrees of intensity, all without relinquishing the readiness to brake. A loosely gripped brake hand can shuffle along the brake strand, up or down, without letting go. A tightly gripped brake hand can be used to catch falls.

Many belayers find this technique unsettling because they are attached to the idea that a relentlessly strong grip on the brake strand is symbolic of the belayer’s commitment. With a proficient belayer, however, the shuffle technique is not only fundamentally sound, it also can be a smooth and reliable way to belay, especially with an ABD. 

TOP-ROPE BELAYING IN ACTION

BELAYING A LEADER

Lead belaying involves the same fundamental counterweight arrangements as top-rope belays, but the dynamics involved in a lead fall greatly augment the forces a belayer must contend with. The loads can be severe and startling. Moreover, there is much more to effective lead belaying than simply paying out slack and catching occasional falls. The interplay of slack and tension requires quick and seamless adaptation, practiced and undistracted fine motor skills, and a situational awareness that is hard to achieve if one has never done any leading oneself. Lead belayers must master the following skills:

• Setup and preparation

• Correct use of the chosen belay device

• Compensating for unnecessary slack

• Catching falls

Unfortunately, lead belayers may only learn a portion of these skills before they are asked to perform all of them on a belay. It’s easy to imagine how a rudimentary skill set can result in frustration, accidents, or even fatalities. 

SETUP AND PREPARATION

A lead belayer needs to determine the likely fall line for a climber who has clipped the first piece of protection. Standing directly beneath the first piece and then taking one step out of the fall line (roughly 10 degrees) will usually keep a falling leader from landing directly on the belayer’s head, while still keeping the belayer in position to give an effective belay. 

Once the lead belayer decides where [they want] to stand, the rope should be stacked neatly on the brake-hand side, right next to the belayer’s stance. A knot in the belayer’s end of the rope (or tying in) closes the system. 

USING THE BELAY DEVICE

Lead belayers will have to learn some fine motor skills to offer an effective lead belay, especially with an ABD. It takes practice. 

Most of the time, the leader keeps [their] brake hand wrapped entirely around the rope, as with any other belay. The lead belayer pays out arm lengths of slack as the leader moves, and then slides the brake hand down the rope with the rope in the brake position. The mechanics are mostly identical, whether the belayer is using an MBD (such as an ATC or other tube-style device) or an ABD. 

But when the leader moves quickly or pulls a lot of slack to clip protection, the belayer will have to feed slack fast, without releasing the brake hand. This is easily learned with an MBD, using a form of the shuffle technique. But with ABD devices such as the Grigri, a specific technique for each device must be learned and practiced. Follow the manufacturer’s instructions and warnings. (Most have produced instructional online videos explaining the appropriate technique.) No matter which device you use, keep the fundamental principles of belaying in mind. Most importantly, your brake hand must stay on the rope as you feed slack. 

COMPENSATING

Lead belaying also involves a subtle exchange of giving and taking rope called compensating. When a leader makes a long clip, there is a moment where the rope is actually clipped above the leader’s head, and [they are] effectively on a short top-rope. As a result the belayer needs to make a seamless transition between giving slack, taking in slack, and giving slack again. The most extreme version of compensating happens when the leader downclimbs from a clip to a rest and then reascends to the high point.

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CATCHING FALLS

The most important part of catching a fall is stopping a leader from hitting the ground or a ledge—or abruptly slamming into the wall. On overhanging climbs, a leader is less likely to impact objects, so longer falls are acceptable. But on vertical or low-angled climbs, the same length of fall could easily cause the leader to impact features along the fall line. 

The lead belayer must be constantly prepared to mitigate the fall consequence as much as [they] can, and a key part of this is maintaining the appropriate amount of slack and movement in the system. While belaying a leader on an overhang, the belayer might feel free to let the momentum of the counterweight lift [them] off the ground. This is the coveted “soft catch” that so many leaders seem to think is essential. 

But when a fall is more consequential—when it might result in ledge impact or a ground fall—an astute belayer may “fight” the fall, sometimes even taking in slack and bracing to increase the counterweight effect. 

It takes time and effort to learn this distinction, because every climb is a little different. One of the most important ways to learn lead belaying is to lead climb. An experienced leader will better understand the issues facing other lead climbers and will know what it feels like to have a belayer do [their] job perfectly.

LEAD BELAYING IN ACTION

DIRECT BELAYS

Direct belays connect the belay system directly to an anchor. As a result, the anchor must be fundamentally sound. That is to say, it has redundant construction, distributes loads intelligently to all the components, limits potential shock-loading if a single component were to fail, and is adequately strong. The anchor must easily sustain all the potential loads applied to it, plus a healthy margin of error. Its integrity should not be in question. Read more about anchors here or here.

Direct belays are the most prudent way to belay a second from the top of a rock or ice pitch where falls are likely and consequential. (That would include all fifth-class rock terrain and almost every ice climb at any grade.) They do not trap the belayer in a counterweight arrangement, allowing the belayer to manage the rope and multi-task. Because the belayer is attached to the anchor separately, the belayer can affect assistance techniques to help a climber move up if needed. Direct belays also put less force on an anchor than counterweight belays do (which shouldn’t matter, really, because the anchor should be bombproof). Lastly, they are particularly advantageous when belaying more than one person simultaneously. 

Whether the belayer is using a Munter hitch, an MBD, or an ABD in a direct belay, the fundamentals apply: The brake hand is always on the rope, hand transitions occur in the braking position, and the limbs are positioned in ways that are comfortable and sustainable. Direct belays should confer all of the climber’s weight to the anchor, so it is easy to imagine a few different hand positions that take advantage of the belayer’s natural strength.Lowering is a completely different story with direct belays. As articles in Accidents will attest, lowering will usually require the belayer to disable or reduce a device’s autoblocking or braking function. As a result, the belayer should redirect the rope through the anchor and use a friction hitch or backup belay whenever [they are] lowering from a direct belay. 

COMMON MISTAKES

FINAL THOUGHTS

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As we can see, there are so many variables to belaying that it can be counterproductive to say there is only one “right” technique. The appropriate belay method for each pitch depends on the terrain, the style and difficulty of climbing, the relative experience and weight of the climber and belayer, and the tools available. The “right” technique is the one that’s appropriate for each context, as long as it adheres to the fundamental principles of keeping your brake hand on the rope, sliding your hand only when the rope is in the braking position, and positioning your hands and body according to their natural strength.

Keep exploring belaying by watching our Know the Ropes videos here or checking out this slideshow. If you teach belaying or just want to take a deep dive, see the AAC’s own Gold Standard curriculum.

Find more information on a variety of topics, including “Climber Communication,” by checking out our complete Know the Ropes collection.

Cleaning an Anchor in Single Pitch Climbing

Accident data in the United States clearly indicates that the routine task of anchor cleaning is clearly too routine for some of us, and not routine enough for others. The inescapable reality is that experienced and and inexperienced climbers, alike, are susceptible to mishap during this seemingly mundane process.

Every accident on record has a slew of contributing factors, to be sure, and it would be impossible to create best practices that could account for all possible contingencies. However, one common thread indicated by accident reporting and a review of instructional literature is that anchor-cleaning sequences, up to this point, have not necessarily been dictated by any unifying principles or concepts.

This article will attempt to reset the bar on that deficit, and align the reader with a set of value-based decision making tools that inform our recommendations for a generalizable best practice.  This article will start with the following assumption: the climbing team consists of a lead climber that has been lowered to the ground, through a redirected top-anchor, the anchor material needs to be retrieved, and the climbing team is operating in a single pitch context with a permanent fixed anchor. 

This context is common on any single pitch outing. The climber is toproping, when she arrives at the top of the pitch she will retrieve the anchoring tools.  

Often, the climber/cleaner also removes equipment from the climb, equipment that the initial leader left behind.

Certain values should govern the cleaning procedure every time it occurs, and each of these values can be used to analyze the effectiveness of any cleaning sequence.

Those values are as follows:

• Changing safety systems, like going on and off belay or switching from being belayed to rappelling, opens up opportunities for error. It also takes time, requires communication and double checks. It is inherently more efficient and safer to use one safety system at all times.

• It is valuable for the cleaner to be connected to the climbing rope, in some way, at all times. That way the rope cannot be dropped.

• It is valuable to minimize the amount of equipment needed to clean an anchor. If minimal equipment is needed, equipment cannot be forgotten.

Most Generalizable Cleaning Sequence: Lowering off the Rings

The cleaning sequence that best applies the values listed above requires the cleaner to lower off an anchor's rappel rings or quick-links.  There are a few reasons this sequence is not more widely adopted.  First, the lowering sequence is misapplied and/or misunderstood.  Second, there is misplaced sense of stewardship that seeks to preserve anchor hardware. 

Many climbers erroneously believe that changing safety systems in unavoidable because they do not necessarily understand that a bight of rope can be pushed through rappel rings.  They might also misunderstand the different ways climbers can connect to an anchor.  Some connections between a climber and an anchor are critical, and they require strength and security.  Like a PAS, a personal tether, or anchoring with the climbing rope and a clove hitch.  These kinds of connections are both strong and secure. Combined with a locking carabiner, they are capable of holding over ten times the climbers body weight in some cases.

Second, many climbers misunderstand the actual impacts lowering off the rings make on communal fixed hardware. Lowering off rings, undoubtedly, wears rings out faster than rappelling.  But, it is important to remember that the rings are engineered for the purpose of lowering. They are designed to sustain the wear and tear of lowering, and then be replaced. Even if lowering resulted in drastic ring erosion, it is worth considering how a more efficient and safer lowering sequence may be worth it.  As accident data surrounding rappelling accumulates, it is worth considering that our friends and family members are more valuable than stainless steel rings, and the only real cost of keeping them safer is replacing rings more frequently.

Having asserted those two common misunderstandings, let’s look at a cleaning sequence that maintains one unremitting safety system (the belay), requires minimal equipment, and never detaches the climbing rope from the cleaner.

Step One: Fifi. Upon arriving at the anchor, the leader can Fifi in to any point in the anchor, but the master point is usually well positioned for this task. A Fifi is a common tool among aid climbers and the concept can be valuable in a cleaning sequence. The idea is to continue to rely on the belay for ultimate security.  Why relinquish it? But, the cleaner will want to connect to the anchor somehow so that the cleaning sequence can proceed more efficiently. So, taking a single quickdraw, any of the quickdraws cleaned off the climb for example, and connecting the belay loop to the master point, will allow the cleaner to work without maintaining a stance or a grip on the rock.  

Any quickdraw cleaned off the pitch can serve as a "Fifi".

Connecting to the masterpoint with a "fifi" is not anchoring. It's just a place to sit for a minute. No need to say anything to suggest that the belayer should not continue to keep the climber safe.

Step Two: Thread a Bight through the rap ring(s). The cleaner will then call for slack, enough slack to run a bight of rope through the rap ring(s).  Once the bight has been passed through the ring, a Figure 8 on a Bight should be tied.  

Most rap rings and quicklinks are big enough to pass a bight of rope through. The bight only needs to be big enough to tie a Figure-8-On-A-Bight. Note the hangers are thick rounded steel typically found at belay stations; do not pass rope through the thinner, sharper edged hangers used on route.

Try to imagine the precision in this moment. The bight is now blocked against the rings. If anything were to go wrong, the climber is secured in a way, by that blocked knot. The belayer did not hear anything confusing or distracting like “Off Belay” or “In Direct” or any other command that could suggest that relinquishing the belay is the next step.

Step Three: Clip the Figure on a Bight to the belay loop with a locking carabiner or two non-locking carabiners (opposite and opposed). Once that bight knot is connected to the climber’s belay loop, the climber may call to the belayer for tension, or take. The belay will do so, and the climber’s body weight will now be counterweighted through the rings by the belayer.

In this moment, the climber is connected to the original tie-in, the bight-knot and locking carabiner, and the fifi. It's a good time to double check the system.

Try to imagine the precision of this moment. Even if the belayer somehow misunderstood his/her role in the cleaning sequence, the call to take gives the climber a chance to double check the entire system before initiating any other critical steps. The climber is essentially anchored at this point by the knot block, the bight clipped to the belay loop, and the original tie-in, which still has not been touched.

Step Four: Untie the original tie-in, clean the anchor, and lower. After double checking all the critical links in the system (the belayer, the bight knot, the locking carabiners, and the rope running through the rap rings) the climber can untie his/her original figure 8 follow through. That long tail can be pulled through the rings and allowed to dangle harmlessly behind the cleaner. The anchoring tools can all be removed from the bolts and stowed. The climber can announce that he/she is ready to lower, and allow the belayer to lower to the ground.

When lowering, the tail from the original tie-in will dangle behind the bight knot.

The cleaner never relinquished the belay.  The cleaner was never untied from the rope, and therefore did not create an opportunity to drop it.  The cleaner only communicated three unambiguous commands to the belayer: “Slack,” “Take, ” and “Ready to Lower.” The cleaner did not need PAS or daisy chain or ATC or friction hitch or a half dozen carabiners to complete this sequence.  

Most anchor cleaning should happen in this way; it is the generalizable case.

Know the Ropes: Cleaning an Anchor

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The Prescription — June 2023

This report will soon be published in ANAC, 2023. It is a dramatic story of a climber who narrowly avoided death. It is also a cautionary tale of a hazard that can strike even well-seasoned experts.

Rappel Anchor Failure

Wind River Range, Cirque of the Towers, Wolf's Head

The Cirque of the Towers is a popular alpine rock destination. It is home to two of the hallowed Fifty Classic Climbs of North America. One of those routes climbs the big rock tower on the right—Pingora. The other, the East Ridge of Wolfs Head, climbs the sunlit ridge of the formation to the left. 

Photo by Kylir Horton—Wikimedia Commons

On July 6, 2022, Alex Satonik (35) and Peter Haley (29) climbed the classic East Ridge of Wolf's Head (10 pitches, 5.6). The climb was uneventful. Satonik wrote to the ANAC that, “We arrived at the summit around 11 a.m. We had a brief rest and then started the standard descent route.

“The first two rappels were easy to find, and the cordage looked good on both. After some scrambling across the west face we found the next two sets of rappel anchors, again deeming the cordage to be in reasonable condition. After more sideways scrambling we arrived at the fifth rappel. I inspected the visible sections of the cordage on the anchor, two lengths of 5mm to 6mm cordalette. I yanked hard on the anchor. The cord held the pull and handled well. It did not show indications of severe sun damage. However, it was wedged into a crack and I could not see the back side of the material.

“I threaded the rope. After checking my ATC, I loaded the rope and sat back. Almost immediately, I was accelerating downward at 9.8m/s. Roughly halfway down, my feet impacted a small ledge, causing me to somersault. I landed on a ledge at the bottom of the rappel, mostly on my back and left side. I had fallen about 50 feet. 

“I immediately knew I was badly injured. I heard my partner calling out. I had an older Personal Locator Beacon (PLB) that didn't have two-way communication capability. My partner activated the beacon. He also called 911 via normal cell phone. SAR responded that their helicopter was already out on a rescue, but would refuel and be at our location in an hour. During the wait, I untangled myself from the rope and did a self-assessment. I had broken both legs, with an open fracture on the right. I had some painful spots on my back, and my right arm was weak. I had also broken my helmet into three pieces and had multiple facial lacerations.

“I did my best to communicate my injuries to my partner, who relayed them to the 911 dispatcher. Roughly an hour after calling in, we heard the helicopter. They located us quickly and landed down by a lake to rig a longline for a pick off. At this time a second party showed up at the failed rap station, where my partner was. The helicopter came and a rescuer dropped onto my ledge. The rescuer attempted to splint my legs with some foam supports and got a three-point seat harness under me. We clipped into the long line, and the helicopter lifted us off the mountain.  

“It was a short flight down to the flat landing area near the lake where the SAR team transferred me into a soft litter and loaded me in the back of the helicopter. Five minutes later, I was at the Pinedale clinic. A day and a half later I woke up in a hospital in Idaho Falls. All told, I had broken my tibia and fibula in both legs, my right arm, right thumb, two vertebrae, the orbital bone over my left eye, and the bridge of my nose. I ended up staying in the hospital just short of a month. The doctors were confident that I would be able to walk on my own by winter, although my ankle strength and mobility will be permanently affected.”

ANALYSIS

Satonik suffered simple bad luck when the rappel anchor failed. There are many rappel stations scattered in various locations on the Wolf’s Head descent. These and other soft rappel stations in the high country suffer from UV degradation and in this case, abrasion and cutting due to the expansion and contraction of anchor blocks. Climber Thomas Gilmore used the same descent two months later. He wrote ANAC, “The team that had the anchor failure, may or may not have been on the ‘standard’ anchor. But, as you can see from the image below, one of the ‘standard’ anchors, the regular stations are garbage too.” 

These old slings comprise either the third or fourth rappel anchor on Wolf’s Head. In a “pinch point,” anchor such as this (similar to Satonik’s failed anchor), the area of contact between large rocks provides security for a thread or sling. Over time, these anchors can become hazardous. Gilmore wrote ANAC, 'This was taken after that accident. Unfortunately, I forgot to grab a picture of the anchor that blew. The rappel route really needs some love.’"

Photo by Thomas Gilmore.

Satonik wrote the ANAC that, “I remember there were double aluminum rings on two pieces of 5mm or 6mm cord, one green and one orange. My suspicion is that on the backside of the block, the cord must have been damaged, likely from being run over an edge. But since the loop was wedged firmly into a crack, I couldn't slide it around to investigate the hidden material. But it is also on me that I choose to use that anchor as is. Based on the damage to my helmet and other facial trauma, I would have died had the helmet not been on my head.”

*Editor’s Note: It is prudent to bring and use extra cordelette to back up anchors. Bring a knife to cut and clean old weathered webbing. In 2022, there were three reported rappel accidents caused by aging slings/cords, causing three deaths. Satonik was fortunate to avoid being the fourth fatality. He wrote to ANAC that, “While falling, I definitely bounced off at least two ledges. That took out some of the kinetic energy out of the impact, compared to 50 feet of uninterrupted acceleration.”

In the image above and in Satonik’s description, aluminum rappel rings are seen or mentioned. These rings vary in manufacture and can range from very strong (25 Kn) to very weak (1.5 Kn). Beware rappel rings with visible wear, especially in the old rolled variety. These are recognized by a seam, running along the entire circumference of the ring. Best practice is to use a locking carabiner or a quicklink in place of the ring. At the minimum, back up the ring with a carabiner clipped through all the available slings. Please do not pilfer fixed carabiners. (Source: Alex Satonik.)

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How to Dream up the Next Cutting-Edge Thing

PC: Jeff & Priti Wright

By: Sierra McGivney

First ascents and new lines on faraway mountains fill the American Alpine Journal every year. American Alpine Club members and climbers in the community browse the AAJ annually, reading stories about cutting-edge ascents. Some might even wonder to themselves, how do you dream up the next cutting-edge thing?

Beyond producing the AAJ, the American Alpine Club has a legacy of encouraging and inspiring climbers to push their limits and dream big through our grants. In 2022, Jeff and Priti Wright won our Cutting Edge Grant, sponsored by Black Diamond, to attempt K7 Central. This year, Lindsey Hamm won the Cutting Edge Grant and also our McNiell-Nott Grant, sponsored by Mountain Hardwear. They are each cutting-edge alpinists who are in pursuit of world-class climbing and mountaineering objectives. And they have answers to the questions you've been wondering about. 

Step One: Light the Fire

Priti and Jeff Wright are a wife and husband duo based in Seattle who have been featured in the AAJ three times and on The Cutting Edge podcast. Their blog Alpine Vagabonds details their first ascents, alpine endeavors, and how-tos. Some of their most notable accomplishments are the first ascent of K6 Central (7,155m), the third ascent of K6 West (7,140m), all four peaks of Patagonia's Torre Range, and "The Six Classic North Faces of the Alps." But how did two-weekend warriors become cutting-edge alpinists? 

Jeff and Priti on K6. PC: Jeff & Priti Wright

In 2017, The Mountaineers, a nonprofit climbing club based in the Pacific Northwest, held a talk featuring Graham Zimmerman, professional alpinist and AAC president, at their local gear shop in Seattle. It inspired the Wrights, so they approached him after the talk. Over drinks with Zimmerman, they talked about planning trips and their goals. They were excited about doing something new. The Greater Ranges in the Himalayas had caught their attention. 

They asked Zimmerman about K6 Central, which he had attempted. They were interested in climbing it themselves. Zimmerman said something along the lines of, "Go send that sh*t." The two were stoked that Zimmerman had been so encouraging and kind.

"In the climbing community, almost everyone you reach out to is friendly and nice because they were in your position at one point," said Priti. 

So for their first trip, they rode Zimmerman's coattails. According to Jeff, this is fairly common in the climbing community—failed expeditions can be a great opportunity for someone looking to make a first ascent. But you don't want to scoop someone's line, so contact the person first and see if they will make a second attempt at it. If they aren't planning to, they might even help you out and give you some extra beta. 

Step Two: Plan An Expensive Glorified Camping Trip

On this first trip to Pakistan to climb K6 Central, Priti and Jeff learned a lot. Big expeditions are like glorified camping trips with lots of extra stuff, according to the Wrights. 

PC: Jeff & Priti Wright

Logistics to be considered when planning a big expedition are: 

• Visas 

• Permits 

• Tour operators

• Satellite devices

• Weather

• Power sources 

• Budget

• Food 

• Shower

• Washing clothes

They use spreadsheets and checklists to stay organized. Once you've figured out logistics, you can focus more on the climbing or technical aspect of your trip. The two got a lot of advice from Steven Swenson and Colin Haley on what food to bring and what airlines have the best baggage deals. Knowing someone who has gone on an expedition before can be a huge asset. 

If you're wondering how to budget and get your trip funded, look into mountaineering grants. The AAC has quite a few for all different types of trips. Mountaineering or skiing/splitboarding based? We got you. Research or breaking barriers based? We got you. Have a climbing dream of any kind? You guessed it—we have a grant for you.

Step Three: Leave No Trace? Leave the Right Trace.

This is Lindsey Hamm’s second trip to the Churakusa Valley. This year, she's backed by the Cutting Edge Grant and the McNeill-Nott Grant. 

"I'm thankful and grateful to have another opportunity," said Hamm.

Last year she, Dakota Walz, and Lane Mathis established a first ascent on a formation between Spanster Brakk and Naisa Brakk (which they named Ishaqu Brakk): Pull Down the Sky (15 pitches, 5.11 R). 

Hamm is always excited about seeing the porters, cooks, and guides she's worked with again and continuing to build a relationship with the community in the valley. There is beauty in being around people who have a different life than hers. She becomes a student again. 

This year, Hamm's group is bringing over school supplies and paying teachers their salaries for the year. For Hamm, climbing is about community, not just the climbing community.

Jeff and Priti have the same attitude. They advocate for climbing responsibly and contributing to the community where they are climbing. Alongside Steve Swenson, they work with Iraq Fund, an organization that helps girls go to school. 

"It's not just about 'how you can help the climbing community' but the greater community as well," said Priti.

Step Four: Listen Closely for Unclimbed Peaks

K7 Expedition. PC: Jeff & Priti Wright

For the Wright's 2022 K7 Central trip, expectations were low. The idea was original and supported by the Cutting-Edge Grant. The inspiration for this trip was found at another mountaineer's talk. This time it was Steven Swenson who presented. He mentioned that K7 Central was unclimbed. They noted this and added it to their list of climbing ideas. There was a limited amount of information out there once they started looking into it. But that didn't deter them in the slightest. 

"It's so difficult to try to come up with your own original idea in the Greater Ranges," said Jeff. 

Half of the work is finding an objective that has yet to be done. Many of the Greater Ranges' mountains have little information on them, so it takes a decent amount of work just to look up a mountain and see what's been done. 

The Wrights have spent hundreds of hours looking through documents in the AAC Library and the AAJ, searching for information on cutting-edge ascents. The AAC library uniquely holds so much history and resources for planning expeditions.  

With a lack of information, the expedition became exploratory. They were unsuccessful in 2022 but are going to go back this summer to try K7 Central again. 

Step Five: Devour Audio and Video Inspiration

"Getting inspired by listening to podcasts like The Cutting Edge and following people on Instagram, reading things that people have written, makes it seem a little more possible, and it gets those gears turning of, well, what might I be able to do?" said Priti. 

Jeff and Priti's go-to podcasts to feed the stoke:

• The Cutting Edge podcast

• The Run-Out

• Climbing Gold

• The Enormocast

• Alpinist

• The Firn Line

• Uphill Athlete

• Evoke Endurance

• Training for Climbing

Books:

• The American Alpine Journal

• Seriously, the AAJ contains trip reports for areas relevant to your expedition—Lindsay, Priti, and Jeff each swear by it.

• Anything relevant in the AAC Library

• Training for the New Alpinism: A Manual for the Climber as Athlete

• Training for the Uphill Athlete

Step Six: You've Figured Out Where You Want to Go—Time to Train

For the last six years, Jeff and Priti have been in the Uphill Athlete Program, a training program with daily workouts made for different uphill pursuits. You might have seen or read the book Training for the Uphill Athlete; essentially, this is an extension of the book. They have been focusing on the endurance aspect of training and bringing it into the mountains. The biggest thing for them when putting together a plan is to focus on their goal. 

"You have to break it down to, what are you training for? What are the exact specs of the thing you want to do?" said Priti. 

PC: Jeff & Priti Wright

If your goal involves a lot of steep inclines, get your cardio high. At altitude, that's what you'll start losing first. If your goal involves a lot of technical climbing, you'll want to focus on strength training. At a certain point, you’ll have enough technical skills to accomplish your objective, and you can focus more on your muscular endurance and aerobic capacity. 

The Wrights have big long objectives, so they focus on endurance-type training. Training is a huge part of alpinism or any big objective. It can help mitigate some risks. When you're at altitude and stressed out, having a reserve of energy can be huge.

"This weekend, all of our friends are going out rock climbing, and I'll be carrying a heavy pack up a steep muddy trail; just very monotonous and antisocial," said Jeff. "But it's nice to have a big objective that you're working towards."

Priti keeps a photo of her climbing goals or objectives on the background of her phone and on her credit card. It's a reminder of what she's working towards and saving up for. 

Step Seven: Build Partnerships and Positivity 

The Wrights have the benefit of being married to their climbing partner. They live together so they can feed off of each other's excitement. They know each other extremely well and know their communication style. Their situation is unique. The majority of partnerships don't have this dynamic—but one piece of advice that can be applied to every partnership? Don't share negative thoughts. 

PC: Jeff & Priti Wright

"You can always put a positive spin on something," said Priti.

If you're not stoked about something, ask yourself, is this really worth sharing? Expeditions can be miserable but well worth it. Keeping both your energy and the energy of others high can be a huge factor in completing your goals. 

There is also a balance between sharing safety or logistical concerns and being negative. If you are concerned for your or your group's safety, definitely speak up. Take your time with safety skills when training, too. They are necessary out in the mountains. To keep up their skills, Jeff and Pritit teach classes on climbing safety skills through BOEALPS. What's that old saying? The best way to learn is to teach. 

If you enjoy learning, try and find a local group or guiding company that teaches mountaineer or alpine skills. At one point, Jeff and Priti were in a program run by Steve Swenson designed to instruct and mentor up-and-coming alpinists. Listening to Swenson's stories inspired the two. Knowing someone who had climbed in the alpine a lot made it feel more possible. 

Step Eight: No Really, Partnership is Crucial

"I'm in four different relationships, and that is with all of my climbing partners," said Hamm. 

She likens these relationships to romantic partners. She speaks with each of them on a daily basis to build trust and learn how each communicates. Expedition partners add another layer of friction, good and bad. They need to be able to adapt, work and think as a group. After the trip, Hamm's goal is to return together as a healthy family. 

"I'm hype-girl Hamm," said Hamm. 

She's also building a relationship with the mountains, getting to know the valley and Pakistan. She's trying to understand what friction exists there, whether that is the political climate or the actual climate. 

Step Nine: Seek the Friction

In climbing, friction is all around us. It's created by partners, belay devices, knots, and the climbing rubber on our shoes. 

"I think the fact that I have created a little bit more friction for myself …[allows me to seek] a different level of climbing that I've never experienced," said Hamm. "I have taken a lot of time to learn on a smaller scale to be able to go bigger."

Photo provided by Lindsey Hamm.

For Hamm, this isn't her first pitch. This is a culmination of ten years of guiding, learning, and understanding the disciplines: big wall climbing, skiing, ice climbing, mixed climbing, trad climbing, and glacial travel. Big expeditions take her out of her comfort zone and create a new layer of friction: the unknown. 

"I really like the unknown," said Hamm with a smile.

She's on her way to the Black Canyon of the Gunnison to train for her upcoming trip. Her focus for this trip will be to work on her breathing, moving slowly and more meticulously. The Black Canyon is a lot like Pakistan—very adventurous, and strengthens the fingers. 

"You can feel how the pioneers did it," said Hamm.

She'll head to Washington after The Black for altitude training, a different type of friction. Donning a heavy pack, she'll spend days going up and then down, acclimatizing to higher altitudes. The friction here is not seen but felt in the lack of air and the final push of training.

The environment, the people, and the climbing excite her. She looks over old photos and her grant proposal to stay motivated, but in general, she is a highly motivated, goal-oriented person, in part because of her ADHD. This trip is her lead, her idea.  

"I'm living my dream," said Hamm. 

Livin’ the Dream

PC: Jeff & Priti Wright

For Priti, Jeff, Lindsey, and many others, these expeditions are their dreams. They all started out learning and honing their skills: the tuned eye it takes to notice a first ascent opportunity; or leveraging and learning from the friction as they pushed harder and harder. They explored what motivated them and what made them excited. 

Seek out what excites you the most. Go to talks, read books, and listen to podcasts that inspire you. Be comfortable being uncomfortable. Soon those stunning lines on faraway mountains won't seem so far away anymore. 

CONNECT: An Ode to Speed, with Alex Honnold and Buzz Burrell

Have you ever wondered: what’s at the root of Alex Honnold’s need for speed? In this episode of the podcast, we sat down with the ever-fascinating Alex Honnold, and put him in conversation with one of ulta running’s forefathers and one of the inventors of the FKT concept, or “fastest known time,” the one and only Buzz Burrell. In this episode, we took inspiration from Alex, who blends sports like running and rock climbing to create massive link-ups like the HURT and the CUDL, to investigate the philosophies behind climbing speed records, ultras, and mountain traverses and link-ups. Why are we so obsessed with speed in the mountains? How do speed records and first ascents play off each other? And what can putting ultra runners and speed record holders together in conversation reveal about these sports we love? The iconic Alex Honnold and Buzz Burrell weigh in on all this and more.

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The Line — May 2023

The Line is the monthly newsletter of the American Alpine Journal.

Bivouac on the southwest face of Ingolfsfjeld during the ’75 expedition. Photo by Jim Davenport.

GREENLAND’S GIANT MYSTERY WALL

The huge southwest face of Ingolfsfjeld, with 63 pitches of climbing, after a snowstorm. Photo by Steve Chadwick.

In the early to mid-1970s, one of the great challenges of arctic climbing was the southwest face of Ingolfsfjeld, an enormous wall 120 kilometers northeast of Tasiilaq on Greenland’s east coast. Visible from the sea, the peak was first climbed by its northeast ridge in 1971, by a Croatian duo, but the biggest face—rising at least 1,200 meters—remained unclimbed despite several attempts.

In 1975, a six-person British expedition finally succeeded, with three of the climbers making the final push to the summit. The resulting route had around 2,000 meters of climbing and was graded ED+ UIAA VI+ (5.10) A3, an extremely difficult wilderness wall for the era. Yet the climb has been largely forgotten, and until this year, no account had been published in the AAJ. 

Expedition member Steve Chadwick has described this remarkable expedition at length in a previously unpublished article, now available at the AAJ website, along with photos, a topo, and a pitch by pitch summary of the 63-pitch climb, which likely has never been repeated. (The last known attempt on any route up the mountain was in 1986!) An overview of the 1975 climb, written by senior editor Lindsay Griffin, will appear in AAJ 2023, which will be mailed in late summer.

Introduction to Keith Myhill’s pitch-by-pitch description of the route, which totaled 6,640 feet of climbing. A link to the full description is in Steve Chadwick’s article at our website.

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MINI-EPIC(S)

Mark Allen starts the team’s ascent of Chimaphila (470m, IV AI4) on Black Spire in the North Cascades. Photo by Jesse Charles.

Winter climbing is hard on climbers—and on their approach vehicles. Last winter, Mark Allen, Jesse Charles, and Seth Keena snowmobiled about 25 miles along closed Highway 20 in the North Cascades to make the first ascent of the east face of Black Spire by a varied ice line. Late in the day, they skied back to the unplowed road and mounted their sleds for the ride back to the car. Soon, the troubles began.

Keena opens his report for the upcoming AAJ 2023 with a description of his body slamming into the handlebars of his 1999 Yamaha Phazer. “I had acquired my snow machine for a bargain price, with the caveat that it had an ‘intermittent electrical issue, but not that big of a deal.’” he wrote. “Now, while cruising at 55 mph, the engine and lights had cut off, bringing sudden darkness and deceleration.”

Keena restarted the sled and followed his partners toward the plowed road. “Eventually we all made it back to Mark’s truck at the end of the plowed highway,” he wrote. “But, once again, we quietly faced the power of winter when we discovered the truck’s battery was dead.”

At least their phones still worked. A pleading call summoned help. Said Keena: “A friend is someone who, at 11:30 p.m., leaves their warm bed and drives to the end of the highway to jump-start your dead battery: Thank you, Patrick Murphy, you are a true friend.”

Without apparent irony, they called the new route Chimaphila (“winter lover”). Read Keena’s full AAJ report here.

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DENALI’S EAST BUTTRESS:
A 60-YEAR RETROSPECTIVE

Some years ago, Peter Lev, one member of the team that made the first ascent of Denali’s east buttress, published a photo-filled retrospective of the expedition. Lev summited on May 25, 1963, along with Rod Newcomb and Al Read. The other teammates were Warren Bleser, Jed Williamson, and Fred Wright. Here, we bring Lev’s images to light with a gallery of the marvelous photos from his piece. (Click on the images for captions.) You can download the complete retrospective in PDF form by following a link at the end of Read’s feature article in the 1964 AAJ.

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The Line is the newsletter of the American Alpine Journal (AAJ), emailed to more than 80,000 climbers each month. Find the archive of past editions here. Interested in supporting this online publication? Contact Billy Dixon for opportunities. Suggestions? Email us: [email protected].

10th Mountain Division to Memorialize AAC Member John McCown II

John McCown rappelling for a August 1942 photo shoot for Life Magazine. This image appeared in the Nov. 9, 1942 issue. Photos courtesy Private Collection of McCown Family.

On June 21st, 2023, the history of the US Army’s 10th Mountain Division and the legacy of the American Alpine Club will collide when the Division renames its Light Fighter School in honor of AAC member First Lieutenant John Andrew McCown II. 

The memorialization will recognize McCown’s service to his country in WWII. Not only did McCown instruct 10th Mountain Division troops in mountaineering and climbing tactics. He played a pivotal role in the unit’s signature action: a nighttime assault of Italy’s Riva Ridge that helped break Hitler’s Gothic Line and end the war in Europe.  

In honor of his impact, the 10th Mountain Division’s Light Fighter School will now be known as the 1LT John Andrew McCown II Light Fighter School building. 

***

Climber, former American Alpine Journal editor, and Alpinist co-founder Christian Beckwith was writing a history of Teton mountaineering when he discovered that Teton climbers of the 1930s played an integral role in the development of the 10th Mountain Division. As he continued his research in the AAC Library and Denver Public Library archives, he found that the unit known widely as “America’s ski troops” owe much of their inception and development to American climbers in general and the AAC in particular.

As he dug deeper, Beckwith discovered an incontrovertible link between the modern era of recreation in America—particularly the modern era of climbing—and the skills, equipment, and tactics that some of the best and the brightest mountaineers brought to the 10th Mountain Division. He also uncovered a deep connection between the AAC and the 10th Mountain Division—especially how the AAC helped develop the gear, tactics, and clothing the 10th Mountain Division would use in action—and that, as Army surplus after the war, would help fuel the birth of the outdoor recreation industry.

John Andrew McCown II in the Tetons in 1939. Photos courtesy Private Collection of McCown Family.

Recently, Beckwith began a book and podcast called Ninety-Pound Rucksack that tells the true story of John McCown, the 10th Mountain Division and the dawn of outdoor recreation in America, all from the perspective of climbers. He also began serving as an advisor to the current 10th Mountain Division, helping them reconnect with their historic mission. 

Following a keynote presentation on the Division’s base in February, he proposed recognizing the service of John McCown with a memorialization. Next month, the 10th Mountain Division will proceed by renaming its Light Fighter School in McCown’s honor.

At the same time, the Division will recognize Beckwith’s contributions by inducting him into its Mountain Warrior Legends Hall of Fame.

Below, you can read a bit about McCown’s story and the impact he had on the 10th’s actions in Italy. 

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Christian Beckwith summarizes McCown’s story as follows:

“A Wharton School graduate who dropped out of the University of Virginia School of Law after Pearl Harbor to enlist in the Division, McCown’s mountaineering skills, devilish sense of humor and contempt for Army red tape endeared him to officers and soldiers alike as he rose through the ranks. At both Camp Hale and as lead instructor at West Virginia’s Seneca Assault Climbing School, he trained thousands of soldiers in the dark art of alpine warfare—skills he put to use in breaking the Gothic Line, a series of German-held ridges and summits in Italy’s Apennine Mountains.

John Andrew McCown II, in the Tetons in 1939. Photos courtesy Private Collection of McCown Family.

Key to doing so was Riva Ridge, an escarpment so precipitous the Germans barely defended it—they considered it impossible for a company of soldiers to climb. They hadn’t bargained for the profanity-laced tenacity of the bow-legged McCown, who reconnoitered the hardest route to its summit, then led his C Company up the route under cover of darkness in the dead of winter to take the ridge without a casualty. It was a magnificent action, one that marked the beginning of the end of Germany’s occupation of Italy—but McCown never got to enjoy the victory. He was riddled by machine gun fire while foiling a counter attack the next day.

“It is a profound honor to illuminate McCown’s sacrifice and service,” says Beckwith, “and to contribute, in however small a way, to the country he died to defend.”

McCown’s obituary in the 1946 AAJ highlights the climbing background  that contributed to the 10th Mountain Division success:

“John McCown was elected to the American Alpine Club in 1940, on the basis of four seasons of climbing, much of it in the Teton area, including four ascents of Grand Teton by various routes. In 1941 he visited the Coast Range of B. C., back-packing through the Homathko Valley to Scimitar Glacier. Had he emerged from the war, his qualities of leadership would undoubtedly have secured him a notable position in expeditionary mountaineering.”

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McCown is the central protagonist of “Ninety-Pound Rucksack.” Dive into all the details of the 10th Mountain Division—and their untold climbing history—with Beckwith’s podcast.

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Looking for a brief overview of the historic connection between the 10th Mountain Division and climbing? Check out this interview with Christian Beckwith on the AAC Podcast!

We would like to extend a special thank you to Christian Beckwith and the AAC Library for their extensive research and resources that led to this historic memorialization.

Banding Together: AAC Member Feature

Climbers & drone pilots in training. Photo provided by Emily Johnston.

Grassroots: Unearthing the Future of Climbing

By: Sierra McGivney

Emily Johnston didn't know much about Ukraine before 2022, but like many Americans, she found herself glued to the screen, following the conflict closely. She watched as Russian troops waged war with Ukrainians in an attempt to bring Ukraine back in as a 'vassal' of Russia. Gunfire, missile strikes, and violence continue to wreak havoc on Ukraine's cities, towns, and citizens, and Emily’s story, and her desire to share the stories of Ukrainian climbers, continues to be as relevant now then at the beginning of the conflict.

Emily Guiding on Everest in 2018. Photo provided by Emily Johnston.

As she learned about the violence in Ukraine, Johnston couldn't help but think back to the times when she had met Ukrainian guides while guiding in Antarctica, Nepal, and other places all over the world. They were just like her, sharing their love of the mountains with clients. At the time, she didn't realize how important these connections she made would become. 

Johnston was 12 when she first started mountain climbing. She talked her way into a trip up Glacier Peak in Washington at her summer camp. She explored, climbed, and fell into a crevasse.

"It was great," she recalls.

In high school, Johnston and some friends bought Royal Robbins Rockcraft, Freedom of the Hills, and Cascade Alpine Climbing and headed into the alpine. She distinctly remembers sitting at a belay ledge, comparing a picture of a clove hitch and checking it with her work. 

Emily skiing the Tetons in 2017. Photo provided by Emily Johnston.

In 1987 she got hired as an Outward Bound instructor and then tried out for Rainier Mountain Guides two years later. She worked there until graduate school and has worked for International Mountain Guides for the last ten years. She joined the American Alpine Club when applying for a permit to climb Annapurna in 1993 and has been a member since. 

In February of 2022, she did a quick Google search of "Ukrainian Climbers," and the first thing that popped up was Climb Army—a grassroots network of Ukrainian climbers put together by Mykhailo' Misha' Poddubnov, a Ukrainian mountain guide. She reached out to them and began chatting with Misha.

She asked Misha, Is what I'm hearing about real? What's going on over there?

PC: Emily Johnston

His response was an offer to show her around Ukraine and introduce her to their network of climbers. The next thing she knew, she bought a plane ticket to Poland and was waiting to be picked up on a train platform in Kyiv. 

"Meet a Ukrainian guy online, fly to Ukraine; what could go wrong? I actually didn't tell my parents that I was going," said Johnston with a laugh.

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Johnston is no stranger to being bold and journeying into the unknown, so it's unsurprising that she ventured to Ukraine during a war. She spent the month of December couch-surfing, meeting climbers, and being welcomed into their climbing community. 

Climber & doctor on the right and Misha Poddubnov.Photo provided by Emily Johnston.

Despite language barriers, Johnston felt as though all the climbers she had met could immediately walk into her climbing circle and fit right in. The climbing community in Ukraine is just like your local community or group of climbing friends. They go to the local climbing gym after work, gush about their projects, and love climbing in all its forms. They have banded together through climbing to create a network of climbers helping each other. 

Johnston traveled with Misha from end to end of Ukraine, collecting supplies and then delivering them to the front. Along the way, she collected story after story of Ukrainian climbers, the terror of the war, their resilience, and how they have supported each other as a community. 

"It's this community without borders," said Johnston.

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Emily interviewing a climber, soldier and doctor near the front lines. Photo provided by Emily Johnston.

Lena, a climber in her late 20s, was in Kyiv on the morning of February 24, 2022, when the bombing started. Lena's friends had a cabin outside the city, and the two fled Kyiv hoping to find safety. The cabin was in Bucha, where Russian forces invaded and are currently under investigation by the Hague for war crimes. The two hid in the basement with their neighbors for four days and listened to the gunfire rain outside. When there was a break, they ran for it and escaped. 

Lena ended up in the western part of Ukraine. She had nowhere to go. Desperate, she remembered she had gone on a climbing trip with a guiding company in the area a few months earlier and called them up. They offered to let her stay in their office as long as needed. She slept on their couch and lived there for months. 

***

A wife and husband duo who own a climbing shop housed 50 people who lived in the building above the shop for three months. Another climber she met named Tanya, who Johnston describes as very poised, composed, and educated, went online and learned how to make Molotov cocktails because they didn't have guns. 

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A group of climbers had gathered clothes, food, and supplies and drove trucks to the front lines. One woman, Oxcana, delivered drones, clothes, body armor, and kilos of Christmas cakes baked by these climbers. When she's not providing supplies and Christmas cakes, she runs a boarding school for kids whose parents are fighting or whose parents are in occupied Ukraine.

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Borodianka, Ukraine. Photo provided by Emily Johnston.

Johnston has story upon story upon story about the climbers who are fighting for their freedom. Amongst all of the couch surfing and visiting the front line, Johnston filmed interviews with all of the climbers she met. She recorded around 15 hours of interviews sitting with the climbers and listening to their stories. With the help of a friend, she is currently putting together a film in hopes of getting the word out. 

"It was even more inspiring than I expected," said Johnston.

Once she returned from Ukraine, Johnston needed to do something, to take action. She created a donor box account where people can donate directly to the climbers. She added links to her Facebook with photos, videos, and information regarding the Ukrainian climbers. 

Emily, near the front, talking with Misha Poddubnov. Photo provided by Emily Johnston.

As climbers, we inherently believe in the power of partnership. To climb together is to partner with another person. Every "On Belay" and "I got you" tie us together as climbers. Johnston traveled halfway across the world during a war to help others who shared her love of climbing. This network of climbers has unified and become a community based around climbing. If you want to get involved, visit the Ukrainian Climber's website here. 

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From the AAC Policy Desk

Photo by AAC member John Glassberg.

The past few months have been a time of transition for the AAC policy team. We are excited to announce that Byron Harvison has taken over for Taylor Luneau as the AAC policy director. Despite this transition, the small-but-mighty policy team continues to punch above its weight.

With the support from members and donors, we look forward to supporting climbers and protecting public land this year. Specifically, the AAC is concerned by an increasing number of land use restrictions and changes to liability practices that negatively affects guide services, volunteer organizations, and land managers.

Given the outsized effects land use and liability changes have on guiding companies, we have organized Summit Register 008 as the “Guide Issue” to further highlight these topics. Read “From the AAC Policy Desk” for a complete policy and advocacy update on these issues and more!

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Summit Register 008

Photo by AAC member Calder Davey.

Are you up to date on the climbing policy world, and how it could shape climbing as we know it?

In this edition of the Summit Register, we surveyed key guides in the community to understand the obstacles they are facing with permits and climbing access. We broke down the potential implications of two transformational pieces of federal legislation: AORA, which is poised to modernize the permitting system on our public lands; and the PARC Act, which will ultimately determine the fate of bolting and fixed anchors in our nation’s Wilderness Areas. To get a fresh perspective, we also interviewed the manager of the Wyoming Office of Outdoor Recreation to understand how AORA could impact recreationists of all stripes, not just climbers. 

Make sure you’re in the know about the hottest topic since the bolting wars, with this edition of the Summit Register.

1. From the AAC Policy Desk
   Updates from your policy team.
   

2. Voices from the Guiding Community
   Tune in to hear straight from guides from across the country about how permitting is impacting the guiding landscape.
   
   
   

3. Lay of the Land: How Two Bills Might Dramatically Change the Guiding and Climbing Landscape
   Two pieces of federal legislation that will impact our climbing spaces have been introduced to Congress. Here’s what you need to know about them.
   
   
   

4. Interview with Phil Powers: Former AAC CEO and Owner of The Mountain Guides
   In this interview, we take an in-depth look at the guiding landscape to understand how critical legislation is to shaping our climbing community.
   
   
   

5. Interview with Patrick Harrington: Manager of the Wyoming Office of Outdoor Recreation
   In this interview, we dig into why AORA is imperative legislation to pass for the outdoor recreation industry at large.

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Lay of the Land: How Two Congressional Bills Might Dramatically Change the Guiding and Climbing Landscape

It’s the hottest topic since the bolting wars, but most climbers don’t know about it yet. Are you fully in the know? The lay of the land is changing—climbing access is changing—and you can help us change it for the better. Two pieces of federal legislation have been introduced in Congress: AORA, which will modernize the permitting system on public lands and increase access and opportunity for guides of all recreational backgrounds; and the PARC Act, which aims to protect the traditional use of bolts and other fixed anchors in Wilderness areas, like Yosemite and Joshua Tree. But don’t rely on hearsay. Get the full breakdown on the implications of these pieces of legislation here, and find out what you can do to get them over the finish line and protect and modernize climbing on our public lands.

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Voices From The Guiding Community

Photo by Jeremiah Watt.

Guides are often the unsung heroes of the climbing community, and being able to offer guiding services is not as simple as it seems. Tune in to hear straight from guides from across the country about how permitting is impacting the guiding landscape. 

Among others, AMGA guide Dale Remsberg weighs in: “For me as an AMGA/IFMGA guide, access to varied terrain is what gives the ability to work and have a successful career. Some of the new legislation could greatly help with guide mobility and the ability to take our guests to terrain that is best for them or the conditions. Currently with access being so restricted it’s difficult to navigate poor conditions and provide quality experiences for our guests.”

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An Interview With: Phil Powers

Photo by Jeremiah Watt.

Phil Powers is the former CEO of the AAC, owner of The Mountain Guides in Jackson, WY, and has 40+ years of guiding experience. He’s seen guiding change and grow, and he knows what’s at stake with the passage of legislation like AORA and the PARC Act. We sat down with Powers to get a more in-depth look at the guiding landscape, and to understand how critical AORA and the PARC Act are to guides and the climbing community as a whole. His tangible details are a really compelling look at why all climbers should be activating to advocate for these bills!

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An Interview With: Patrick Harrington

Patrick Harrington is the manager of the Wyoming Office of Outdoor Recreation. We sat down with Harrington to dig into why AORA is imperative legislation to pass for all outdoor recreationists, and for sustaining the outdoor recreation economy at large. With his experience managing and advocating for recreation in one of the most sought after locations for US sport and adventure climbing, we learned a lot about how legislation like AORA can have a reverberating impact: on rural getaway communities, on the accessibility of climbing, on the economics of guiding, and more. 

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Tom Hornbein (1930 – 2023)

Hornbein on the 1963 Everest expedition.

On May 6, the American Alpine Club and climbing community lost a luminary, a mentor, and a dear friend. Tom Hornbein, MD, was a legend in American climbing. Hornbein and Willi Unsoeld ushered in the modern era of mountaineering and set the standard for future generations with their iconic ascent of the West Ridge of Everest in 1963. This audacious feat has perhaps yet to find an equal in the annals of Himalayan climbing.

Tom Hornbein in March of 2023. Photo by AAC member Jim Aikman.

In his youth, Hornbein pioneered standard-setting rock climbs. In 1949, he climbed Northwest Passage in the Boulder Flatirons, incorporating the first use of sophisticated direct aid in the area. In 1952, Hornbein made the first serious foray onto the Diamond of Longs Peak. He’d return decades later and climb that iconic wall at age 64. In 1953, he led Hornbein Crack on the Chasm View wall with virtually no protection. At the time it was the hardest pitch of free climbing in the high mountains. 

However, Hornbein will always be remembered for the West Ridge of Everest. In an interview for the American Alpine Club's Legacy Series, Hornbein described a shared fire to pursue the team’s objective: "Those of us on the West Ridge team needed something more than just to climb Everest—to do something that was different than what the Swiss and the Brits had done. We really wanted an adventure that we didn't feel was there for us on a route that had already been climbed a couple of times. That was the transcendent force: to be challenged by something that we didn't know we could likely pull off."

For his contributions to climbing and the American Alpine Club, Hornbein was awarded the AAC President's Gold Medal twice, once in 2013 along with the other members of the 1963 Everest team and again in 2020, as the sole recipient. The AAC President's Gold Medal has only been awarded seven times in the organization's history. He also received the AAC Honorary Member award and the Angelo Heilprin Citation award for exemplary service to the Club.

His professional achievements rivaled his feats in the mountains. Dr. Hornbein was Chairman of the Department of Anesthesiology at the University of Washington School of Medicine. He studied human physiology and performance at high altitude, making his work a link between medicine and mountaineering.

Throughout the years, Horbein was an inspiration to us all. AAC Board President Graham Zimmerman's recollections of Hornbein reveal the heart and soul that Horbein brought to climbing: "Tom Hornbein inspired us to dream big, fiercely pursue those dreams, and be exceptionally kind while on the journey. Not only did he demonstrate a dedication to climbing, but he also provided an example of how our experiences in the mountains can be applied to make the world a better place.

Tom was a friend whom I'm going to miss very much."

Hornbein’s generosity made a significant impact on the AAC during his life, and for that the Club will be forever grateful. His devotion to our craft and his passion for life have inspired generations of climbers, and his influence and example will continue to live on.

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Legacy Series, Episode 5: Tom Horbein

Learn more about Tom Hornbein, MD, and his contributions to climbing through this Legacy Series video.

PROTECT: The New Bolt Wars? Protecting America's Rock Climbing in Wilderness

Are you up to date on what’s at stake in American Wilderness climbing?

Climbing in America’s Wilderness areas—places like Joshua Tree, Yosemite, the Black Canyon of the Gunnison, and so many other iconic climbing areas—is under threat. The bolting wars of old have been revived, but with a new inflection. It’s no longer sport climbers and trad climbers duking it out. Federal land managers feel cornered by increased usage on our public lands...and are arguing its necessary to ban the use of fixed anchors. But this is in conflict with climbers, who know that fixed anchors have always been allowed in Wilderness and prohibiting them will not resolve this issue, but only present new ones. While normally climbers and land managers are partners, this disagreement over fixed anchors in Wilderness is a strong threat to our ability to work together. So what exactly is this bolting war about, and what’s at stake here?

In this episode, the AAC sat down with Erik Murdock, the Vice President of Policy & Government Affairs at Access Fund, to talk about the nitty gritty details of this critical conversation about bolting and fixed anchors in Wilderness. We also cover the Protect America’s Rock Climbing Act (or PARC Act), which will help climbers preserve climbing in Wilderness as it has been historically protected, and continue to partner with land managers to conserve the public lands we all love.

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American Alpine Club Podcast · PROTECT: The New Bolt Wars? Protecting America's Rock Climbing in Wilderness

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Take Action! Help us protect Wilderness Climbing!

Get your legislators to support the PARC Act and protect Wilderness climbing!

The Power of Beginning Again: Reflections from the USA Ice Climbing Team

Chelsea Kyffin and Jessica Perez jogging to warm up near the World Cup competition structure in Champagny-en-Vanoise, France. PC: Ryan McCauley

By Ryan McCauley (she/her)

“I mean this in the nicest way possible,” my teammate Marian Prather said, hesitating to finish their sentence. “But this experience kind of reminds me of helping my Mom with social media.” I erupted with laughter as I glared at my iPhone screen in the middle of a South Korean coffee shop, mouth agape, processing the newly learned fact that it was impossible to edit a posted Instagram story (that I had just spent 45 minutes carefully crafting with a lot of hand-holding from Marian and another friend on the USA Women’s Ice Climbing Team). I wrinkled my nose and jokingly prodded back, “Your Mom sounds cool. Is she also 35?”

This was Ryan's third and final speed run in women's finals in the World Cup in Saas-Fee, Switzerland. PC: UIAA Livestream

It was honestly the first time that weekend that I had truly relaxed, given myself permission to sit with the ridiculousness of the moment, and allowed joy to creep in. I had been too busy focusing on the pressure of my performance expectations at the first UIAA Ice Climbing World Cup of the ‘22-’23 season. Sadly, this anxiety was quickly replaced by disappointment as the results started rolling in. Nothing like training for months and flying across the world, only to fall off one swing into the speed climbing competition or slip off a lead move I had done numerous times at the training gym back home, to make me question my efforts. Although it was only my second season competing, my hopes had exceeded reality. Beginner or not, I should have done better.

If I was being honest with myself, the desire to make my Instagram story perfect by zooming in on every detail was representative of more than just my mindset at the South Korean World Cup. As a woman who has been drawn to sports historically dominated by athletes identifying as male, I have often leveraged perfectionism as a way to prove that I am good enough to belong in a given space. Asking for help is something I’ve learned to avoid at all costs. I have a tendency to approach other women with a slight hesitation or skepticism—as I try to assess how others might compare my performance to hers. Vulnerability is something I don’t share easily.

Ryan climbing in Women's speed climbing finals in the World Cup in Champagny-en-Vanoise, France. PC: Nils Paillard

So, it was intentional that my first-time dry tooling (the nuanced, competition-version of ice climbing) was at a Ladies’ Night at the Ice Coop dry-tooling gym in Boulder, which was the only facility of its kind in the U.S. at the time. I did not want to be a total novice in front of men. Beyond being male-dominated, it was also a sport nobody had ever heard of.

I joked that I was going to the hardware store when trying to explain the concept to others. Even presenting it as “indoor mixed climbing” seemed to fall flat for many. Traversing climbing routes by hooking ice tools on plastic or metal rock climbing holds was hard to comprehend. Kicking into plywood walls with specialized crampons to simulate ice climbing was confusing to visualize. And doing it all in a bouldering format at the Ice Coop without ropes seemed downright dangerous. But there was something about the challenge that hooked me. The promise of what was possible was too enthralling to ignore as I watched old YouTube videos of experienced athletes hanging upside down from swinging boxes during the 2019 UIAA Ice Climbing World Cup in Denver. However, even with this excitement, I swindled a coworker to go with me that first night so I didn’t have to risk looking like a fool in front of a group of strangers. Beginner or not, I was not going to embarrass myself.

Ryan McCauley climbing Catwoman (D10) at a dry-tooling crag in Quintal, France. PC: Justin (Jay) Jacobs

Despite my initial insecurities, that first evening dry-tooling injected an energy into me that I didn’t know existed. As a sport climber who was used to navigating routes that demanded either a lot of power or a plethora of precision, I loved how dry tooling required both. Moments that forced me to intentionally slow down my breathing and trust my exhausted arms to connect the pick of my tool with a tiny pocket on the side of a hold sent waves of enthusiasm through my entire body. I was stronger than I knew.

For the next year, I dove headfirst into every opportunity to grow and improve. I signed up for a gym membership, joined the local team, entered competitions, invested in new gear, and started attending a summer training group. Things were going well and I was excited. However, I had been so consumed with competition outcomes or team rankings to prove my “enoughness” in the sport that I hadn’t paused to reflect on the bigger picture or express gratitude for the larger value I was deriving from this space. Beginner or not, I would not allow myself to make excuses or fail.

Climbing to Not Fall

France Competition structure. PC: Ryan McCauley

If you had told me in the summer of 2021 that I would be representing the U.S. in the Ice Climbing World Cup a mere year later, I would have laughed uncontrollably. I would have rolled my eyes at the thought of re-activating my Facebook profile so I could communicate with people just over half my age to schedule team practice for a sport that had hardly any training facilities. But I also didn’t anticipate the power of the community I felt that Friday at Ladies' Night. The possibility posed by the non-judgmental, inclusive space allowed people of all ages and backgrounds to show up as total beginners and be genuinely embraced for who they were. Trust, support, and advocacy were offered to each individual who showed up and tried, no matter how guarded or hesitant they were. While resources and funding for dry tooling are more limited in the U.S. compared to some other countries, countless people are volunteering their time to expand the sport and welcome new members with open arms.

And here I was, sitting in Cheongsong, getting discouraged and fixating on my mistakes a little over a year into the sport. I couldn’t help but ruminate on how it might have played out if I could only go back in time and edit my personal story—what if I had swung the tool slightly differently; had shifted my weight at a different angle; had trained harder; had found the sport at a younger age? It still felt so hard to disconnect from the scoreboard. Beginner or not, those results defined my success.

Keenan Griscom climbing in Men's Lead Semi Finals at the France World Cup in Champagny-en-Vanoise. PC: Nils Paillard

That evening, while riding the bus back to our hotel from the competition venue, I sat next to Keenan Griscom, the top-ranked athlete on the USA Men’s Ice Climbing Team. He was just shy of his 19th Birthday and had been competing in a variety of climbing disciplines since middle school. As we debriefed the day, I was struck by the way he balanced both seriousness and lightheartedness when talking about his own performance expectations. As someone who had made finals and was slated to compete again the following day, I anticipated him to feel much more pressure than he did. Intrigued, I pummeled him with questions about his journey as an athlete, how his training had evolved, and even concerning his personal definition of success. Keeping a humble tone, Keenan noted times when a higher ranking he received didn’t elicit pride because he knew deep down that he had failed to fulfill his own potential. Similarly, he confidently recounted times when a lower score ended up being a cause for celebration because he knew within himself that he gave the competition his all. 

I had noticed this same open-mindedness and curiosity earlier when someone had asked for advice on filing their picks and he had encouraged them to trust themself, experiment with an approach, and see how it went. The feisty millennial in me wanted to say something to the effect of, “It makes sense you don’t feel pressure to get it right this time, you have so many competitions ahead of you before your knees fall apart!” and it suddenly hit me. I was getting in my own way. I was the only one telling myself I had to show up perfectly now; believing that there was indeed an expiration date on this opportunity. 

Keenan Griscom climbing in Men's Lead Finals at the South Korean World Cup in Cheongsong. PC: Rhea Kang

Sure, I wasn’t getting younger. And I might still never get to the same level as some of my teammates who had already been competing for nearly a decade and were 15 years my junior. But, hyperfocusing on my scores was damaging my confidence and blinding me to the massive privilege of the opportunity in front of me. Just as with the stupid Instagram story, things were already live and I couldn’t go back and update the countdown hashtags (or so I’m told— please reach out if you know otherwise) or go back in time and swing my tool into the ice tower further to the right when speed climbing. All I could do was laugh about it, remember to tag people before hitting “upload” next time, and be present with the amazing community around me at that moment.

What if I shifted the story from “What place did I get?” or “How did I compare?” to instead be about “What did I learn today to get 1% better?” “What progress can I celebrate?” or “Who did I connect with?” So much of my current narrative was driven by fear and the pressure wasn’t getting me on the podium. What if I reframed success to be about the experience rather than whether or not I fell?

Climbing to Play in the Present Moment

Ryan McCauley reaching the top of the speed wall during Women's Speed Climbing Finals in the Saas-Fee, Switzerland World Cup. PC: Robert Hendriksen

As naive as it felt, I pushed myself to focus more energy during the France World Cup on things like laughing with teammates about our “Nascar pit stop” sharing of speed crampons or joking about the record time it took my Nalgene to freeze. By the third and final competition in Switzerland, I found myself fully dancing to the music at the base of the ice tower while waiting for my turn to climb. It was the longest and steepest speed structure we had encountered so far and people were falling fairly consistently. If anything, the pressure was higher—but I had slowly started to feel gratitude for it all. “Once in a lifetime opportunity” had shifted from meaning I only had this one competition to demonstrate my entire worth to instead serving as a reminder to soak it all in. I chatted with international athletes and made silly faces at the live-stream cameras. I was going to make the most of this moment. 

Suddenly, everything clicked. My tools hooked the ice smoothly one after the other and my feet glided up the wall in a delicate, nearly effortless dance. I shrieked as I turned around to look at the timer: 20.52—nearly 9 seconds off my last run and a time that would put me in 4th place overall. I guess this approach wasn’t so silly after all. I’d be lying if I said it was easy to sustain this mentality in a high-pressure competition, that it looked the same for every athlete, or that it didn’t take the same kind of practice as showing up to training each week. But, wow, it made the effort so much more worthwhile and fun. Beginner or not, letting go of my fixation on the outcome could result in a more lasting definition of success.

Reflecting on the Season

USA athletes cheering on teammates in lead finals during the South Korean World Cup in Cheongsong. From left to right - Jessica Perez, Noah Bergman, Sam Serra, Marian Prather, Dominic Gonzalez-Padron. PC: Rhea Kang

Overall, as a Team, the U.S. walked away with one of the most successful seasons we have had in the past few years. There were a lot of milestones to celebrate, such as Cat Shirley setting a record for the first-ever American woman to qualify for UIAA World Cup lead finals or Keenan Griscom earning 4th and 5th place, respectively, for lead climbing in two of the World Cups! (*see box below for more specifics).

Perhaps even more exciting to see was how much closer our community became through the shared experiences of relentless months of training, hectic or jet-lagged travel, competition stressors or mistakes, celebrations of personal or team growth, and unexpected memories made. Early morning group warm-up runs, aggressive games of Taco Cat Goat Cheese Pizza back at the Airbnb, and hugs from other athletes after emotional moments of doubt are the things that will stick with me for years to come. 

There is still so much work that needs to be done in the United States to help strengthen our reputation as a competitive team and develop the sport of dry-tooling. There were moments where we jokingly noted how dry tooling was a “real sport” in other countries as we came across a multitude of gyms in Seoul where we could train and found celebrity-style posters of dry-tooling athletes in the local tourist office. It could have been tempting to be frustrated by how far behind the U.S. is concerning this, but many teammates also commented on how incredible it was to be at the frontier of this sport in our country, helping to build a stronger foundation alongside organizations like the American Alpine Club and Rab.

Justin (Jay) Jacobs warming up on the dry-tooling warm-up wall at the World Cup in Champagny-en-Vanoise, France. PC: Sam Montgomery

We may not be able to successfully revolutionize the future of dry tooling in the U.S. overnight. However, this season taught me so much about the power of giving ourselves permission to embrace the imperfections and be patient with growth. The acceptance and vulnerability that comes with this approach allows us to clearly see our own strengths and empathetically show up for others. We get to choose to contribute to success that is bigger than ourselves and accelerate our growth with each mistake. Beginner or not, letting go can actually magnify the power of our team.

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Some of the specific USA women’s achievements worth noting include:

Cat Shirley (right) congratulating Roz Reynolds (left) on qualifying for Women's Lead Semi Finals at the South Korean World Cup in Cheongsong. Sam Serra is standing in between the women and Noah Bergman is off to the right. PC: Rhea Kang

South Korea:

• Jessica Perez & Roz Reynolds competed in their first-ever World Cup competition!

• Cat Shirley & Roz Reynolds reached the top of the lead climbing qualification routes and continued on to compete in the semi-finals, placing 8th and 16th respectively, out of a field of 31 female athletes. Cat is the first US woman to ever qualify for the UIAA World Cup lead finals!

• Cat Shirley, Marian Prather, & Roz Reynolds progressed to speed climbing semi-finals, ultimately placing 3rd, 8th, and 11th respectively, out of a field of 25 female athletes. Cat walked away with a bronze medal for this performance!

Champagny-en-Vanoise:

• Chelsea Kyffin competed in her first-ever World Cup competition!

• Jessica Perez, Chelsea Kyffin, & Ryan McCauley climbed in temperatures of 8 degrees Fahrenheit each day during women’s lead qualifications and still made gains between their first and second routes averaging about three quickdraws higher!

• Ryan McCauley & Chelsea Kyffin competed in women’s speed finals and shaved off a combined 10 seconds on their runs as they placed 7th and 14th respectively, out of a field of 16 women.

Saas-Fee:

• Gabrielle (Phoebe) Tourtellotte competed in her first-ever World Cup competition!

• Ryan McCauley & Lauren Shartell earned spots in women’s speed finals and placed 4th and 8th, out of a field of 21 women. With scores in all three competitions, this put Ryan in a tie for 6th place in overall women’s 2023 World Cup speed standings!

Some of the specific USA men’s achievements worth noting include:

Keenan Griscom working out the sequence for Men's Lead finals at the South Korean World Cup in Cheongsong. PC: Rhea Kang

South Korea:

• Sam Serra, Ian Wedow, Daniel Koepke, Noah Bergman & Dominic Gonzalez-Padron competed in their first-ever World Cup competition!

• Keenan Griscom & Tyler Kempney progressed to lead climbing semi-finals with Tyler successfully reaching the top of one lead qualification route and Keenan topping both. Keenan further advanced to lead climbing finals and the two athletes ultimately placed 4th and 10th, respectively, out of a field of 37 male athletes.

• Sam Serra progressed to speed climbing semi-finals, ultimately placing 14th out of a field of 26 male athletes. 

Champagny-en-Vanoise:

• Noah Rowley & Justin (Jay) Jacobs competed in their first-ever World Cup competition!

• Keenan Griscom progressed to lead climbing semi-finals, ultimately placing 11th out of a field of 56 male athletes.

• Noah Rowley progressed to speed-climbing semi-finals, ultimately placing 14th out of a field of 37 male athletes.

Saas-Fee:

• Erik Gomez competed in his first-ever World Cup competition!

• Sam Serra, Noah Bergman, & Keenan Griscom all successfully reached the top of one of the two lead climbing qualification routes.

• Noah Bergman & Keenan Griscom progressed to lead climbing semi-finals, with Keenan advancing to lead climbing finals. The two athletes ultimately placed 13th and 5th respectively, out of a field of 49 male athletes.

• Sam Serra progressed to speed climbing finals, ultimately placing 12th out of a field of 35 male athletes.

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The USA Ice Climbing Team is supported by