Summit Magazine

Provided by Michael Levy

A story from the AAC Library

By: Sierra McGivney

Jean Crenshaw and Helen Kilness rode their motorcycle away from the US Coast Guard base in Georgia in 1946. They had just taught themselves how to ride the motorcycle in the bike dealership's parking lot. The two had become fast friends working as Radio Operators in the Coast Guard. With the war over, they were untethered, the future and road ahead of them. Both grew up out west, so they headed that way, the wind roaring around them.

Once in California, they worked in the publishing and editing industry, and on the weekends, they went out on trips with the Sierra Club. The two fell in love with rock climbing and playing outside. They were completely inseparable. With time they moved to Big Bear, CA, to an old Forest Service cabin. They wove their two favorite things together and started a climbing magazine, the first of its kind, in 1955.

Summit Magazine was edited, published, and produced in Crenshaw and Kilness's house. The basement contained a dark room for photo and print development.

The two were some of the original dirtbags. They would make enough money and write enough content for the magazine and then run away into the mountains and play. Their first magazine cost 25 cents.

In the post-WWII climate of the United States, they went against the grain. Though not against marriage or children, Kilness and Crenshaw were committed to expanding and redefining the purview of women. Alongside the complexities of their religious commitments and their vision for climbing journalism, they were also two women who wanted to throw out the kitchen sink and replace it with summits.

Provided by Michael Levy

Kilness and Crenshaw avoided letting it be known that they were women on the masthead of Summit Magazine. Jean became Jene, and Helen became H.V.J Kilness. Because of this, some men felt free to write letters to the editor, denigrating women. In response, Kilness and Crenshaw would publish these letters and those that would follow, opposing these sexist views. The comments section of Summit Magazine was like the Mountain Project forum of the 1950-70s.

Kurt Reynolds from Denver, Colorado, wrote, "A women's very presence can mean discord and defeat, for rare indeed is the climber who can forget ingrained patterns of chivalry and demand the same grueling performance from feminine teammates that he would from another man. In their mad rush to ape men, women have invaded every field of our endeavor. Let them return to their proper realm of kitchen, children, and church–and be there when we return from the mountains."

The comments section regulated itself, and both men and women expressed their views against this comment.

Elizabeth Knowlton, a famous mountaineer, countered, "But the fact is that to some individuals, of both sexes, mountains, and mountaineering have really important meanings and values—though to many individuals they do not … People vary enormously. If Mr. Reynolds expects half the human race to conform to one single type, strictly determined by their sex, I fear he will meet with disappointment. I speak as a woman who has always been interested in climbing."

Others said in defense of women, "Mr. Kurt Reynolds rather sickened my stomach with his opinions on the female of the human species. I'm sure that no registered nurse would appreciate his statement on women being 'emotionally unstable and notably unreliable in an emergency,'" responded Dick Skultin.

Kilness and Crenshaw probably laughed whenever they received letters addressed "Dear Sir" containing sexist views of the day. Little did the men writing in know that two mountain climbing women ran Summit Magazine.

Instead of outright confronting these individuals, they proved them wrong through every magazine they produced that empowered women.

Provided by Michael Levy

The letters to the editor weren't the only place these nuanced subjects were brought up. In the fictional story "The Lassie and the Gillikin" from the June 1956 edition of the magazine, the author writes about the undertones of sexism in climbing at the time and the expectation for a woman to make herself smaller. In the story, a male climber takes Jenny climbing for the first time. She starts with beginner climbs and every weekend works to climb harder. She persists and becomes better. At one point, when Jenny succeeds on a climb, the male climber does not, and he is suddenly cold towards Jenny. This male climber has lunch with another woman when he usually eats with Jenny. He weaponizes this woman to show Jenny further how much he distastes her success.

Provided by Michael Levy

The Gilikin, a little creature that climbers blame for tangled ropes or slick holds, suggests to Jenny that he push her off a climb to make the male climber interested in her again. Jenny agrees, and after she falls off a climb, his interest in her returns, underscoring the writer's point.

Jane Collard said it best in the July 1956 comments section of Summit: "Men need to feel superior to women, especially in outdoor, rugged, manly-type activities, and a woman mountain climber is liable to give 98% of the male population an inferiority complex because there are so few men who are mountain climbers and also society says mountain climbing isn't feminine."

The richness of Summit was that it was a proving ground for these kinds of hard conversations about equity, but the editors also insisted on doing so playfully.

Flipping through old Summit Magazines, you'll find various cartoons and articles. A person skiing off El Capitan is on the cover of their March 1972 issue. The cover was made to look real with a photo of El Cap and a drawing of a small person with a red parachute skiing off of it. On the inside of the magazine, a complete description: "In a well planned and skillful maneuver, Rick Sylvester skied off the top of El Capitan in Yosemite National Park at approximately 50 mph, then parachuted to the valley floor." You can tell that Kilness and Crenshaw were having fun. They didn't take themselves too seriously.

Oddly enough, an ad for Vasque boots is placed on the outside cover. The ad says, "Vasque…tough books built by men who've been there…Vasque the mountain man boot."

Provided by Michael Levy

The articles in Summit had an extensive range of topics, from challenging technical climbs to backpacking and ecology. The magazine had a news section called "Scree and Talus" which always included a poem. One addition of "Scree" includes a granola recipe next to the information about an unclimbed mountain in Nepal called Gauri Shankar.

The swirly fonts, playful cartoons, and various article topics blended feminine elements into an otherwise 'masculine' sport for its time. Kilness and Crenshaw were redefining climbing to include their vision—broadening and deepening what climbing could mean and who climbing was for.

Summit was about all aspects of climbing, not just climbing difficult grades and training, which are worthwhile stories to tell but do not encompass the soul of climbing, the why of climbing. Summit Magazine was about pursuing the outdoors and having fun while doing it. Summit's depth and earnest silliness came from Kilness and Crenshaw's ability to take a step back from climbing, see their complex role in it, and in turn, climbing's role in life. That philosophical distance certainly takes the edge off the grade-chasing.

---

When magazines like Rock and Ice (1986) and Climbing (1970) came onto the scene, Summit fell off. Kilness and Crenshaw themselves ascribed this to their competitors' editorial focus on sending hard and putting up new technical routes. But whether cutting-edge climbing simply sells better or it was the usual story of big media winning by sheer resources, the project was no longer sustainable. Killness and Crenshaw sold the company in 1989, the same year the American Alpine Club recognized their contribution and lifetime service to the climbing community. Under new owners, Summit continued until 1996, after which it was discontinued.

You can still be transported to 1974 and look at old photos of beautiful landscapes worldwide. The AAC library holds all issues of Summit Magazine from 1955-1996. These magazines can be an excellent resource for planning trips or a looking glass into a past era of climbing.

Provided by Michael Levy

And Summit's journey continues. Through long-form print media, Summit Journal will be produced twice a year in large format to preserve the richness of climbing storytelling. In a world of clickbait articles, Summit is daring to produce quality climbing journalism and once again encompass the soul of climbing. Hopefully, they can capture Kilness and Crenshaw's playful essence even if someone isn't skiing off El Capitan on the cover. Returning to climbing journalism's roots just might take us to new places.

The Line—July

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

O CANADA!

Canada is an enticing destination for U.S. climbers: an international locale that’s easy to reach and to navigate, yet with a wilder feel than many of the crowded crags and peaks back home. With the 2023 AAJ going into the mail next month, here’s a teaser from the upcoming edition: five fresh reports from five Canadian provinces and territories.

Seba Pelletti leading pitch eight of Viaje Boreal (650m, 5.11+) in Canada’s Northwest Terriorties. Photo by Pato Diaz.

Northwest Territories

Seba Pelletti, an Australian who resides in southern Chile, traveled to northern Canada last August with three Chilean friends: Pato Diaz, Michael Pedreros, and Hernan Rodriguez. The prime objective was Mt. Dracula, a hulking summit in the Vampire Peaks, about 20 kilometers to the northwest of the famed Cirque of the Unclimbables. This rainy zone rarely sees visitors, but the 2022 team was lucky, with enough good windows to put up three new routes, including a 650-meter line up a previously unclimbed face on Dracula (see photo above), possibly only the third ascent of this isolated peak. Pelletti described their adventures in his story for AAJ 2023.

Photo by Zach Clanton.

British Columbia

Near Terrace, B.C., is a striking granite pyramid known variously as the Shark’s Fin or the Saddlehorn. This peak had been climbed and even skied, but the beautiful southern prow had no known routes. Zach Clanton, Kris Pucci, and Tim Russell changed that last July, with an 11-pitch line that begs to be climbed. The first ascent went smoothly. As Zach wrote in his AAJ report, “Sometimes, very rarely, even with all of the mysteries intact, things go according to plan…. We had no brushes with death, no dicey bear encounters, and no stories of terrifying choss. And that’s just how we like it.”

Alberta

Sam Wall’s family used to run one of the backcountry lodges at Amethyst Lake in the Tonquin Valley of Jasper National Park, below the incredible quartzite walls of the Ramparts. (Those lodges were closed recently in an effort to protect a small herd of caribou in the valley.) During his years of staring at the walls, Sam picked out a possible new route up the northeast face of Oubliette Mountain. In August, he and Shep Howatt rowed across the lake to access the face and succeeded with a 900-meter new route (5.10-) to the summit. After a bivy on the ridge, they traversed along the Ramparts to climb the north ridge of Bennington Peak, also a first ascent. Read Sam’s report here.

High on the northeast face of Mt. Oubliette during the first ascent, with Amethyst Lake below. Photo by Sam Wall.

Newfoundland

Silas Rossi on Delirium, one of the new routes at the Bear’s Den near Parsons Pond in western Newfoundland. Photo by Ryan Stefiuk.

New Englanders have been making the trek to western Newfoundland for decades to explore the East’s biggest ice climbs. (See Alden Pellett’s Recon story in AAJ 2021 for the climbing history of this area.) In 2022 and 2023, a rotating crew of Northeastern U.S. climbers has focused on Parsons Pond, a remote area accessed by snowmobile. Ryan Stefiuk reveals the goods in AAJ 2023.

Nunavut

From Baffin Island in Nunavut Territory comes our final AAJ teaser: a short video about a new route up the northeast face of Mt. Turnweather by Neil Chelton, Owen Lee, and Maria Parkes. This fun look at expedition life was edited by Chelton, creator of the VDiff instructional website. Rainy Day Dream Away, the 20-pitch route they climbed, takes a direct line to the east ridge of Turnweather, a route first climbed in 1977 by former AAC vice president Clark Gerhardt and Craig McKibben. The full story of last summer’s ascent will appear soon in the 2023 AAJ and at our website.

---

THE 2023 COVER: A FAMILY AFFAIR

As the AAJ is being prepared for mailing, here’s a preview of the 2023 cover, showing a precarious stance on Shield of Dreams (5.13b), one of several hard new routes climbed last year on Trapezoid Peak in the High Sierra. The climber is Chase Leary, who, as Andy Puhvel writes in his AAJ report, is “a local granite master whose wizardry on the rock has earned him the nickname ‘Swami.’ Chase’s family goes back three generations in the Eastern Sierra, and his father, Kevin Leary, was one of the first climbers to establish the 5.12 grade in Tuolumne and the Eastside.”

Puhvel also has multi-generational family ties to the Sierra: He and Lisa Coleman ran the Yo! Basecamp Rock Climbing Camp in these mountains for more than 20 years, and they still operate the Nor Cal Youth Climbing League, the longest running competition series in North America. And their son, Cashus, shot this year’s spectacular cover photo!

---

Join the Club—United We Climb.

Get the AAJ Sent to You Annually

Partner-level members receive The American Alpine Journal book every year. Documenting mountain exploration and the year’s most significant ascents through first-person reports and photos, it’s an essential historical record and a feast of inspiration.

Rescue & Medical Expense Coverage

Climbing can be a risky pursuit, but one worth the price of admission. Partner-level members and up receive $7,500 in rescue services and $5,000 in emergency medical expense coverage. Looking for deeper coverage? Sign up for the Leader level and receive $300k in rescue services.

---

THE HUNTINGTON SPECIAL

The Technicolor Super Dream on Mt. Huntington. Photo by Zac Colbran.

The latest Cutting Edge podcast highlights three young climbers from the U.S. and Canada—Zac Colbran, Dane Steadman, and Grant Stewart—who found a beautiful and challenging new route up the west face of Mt. Huntington, one of North America’s most iconic peaks. Listen here.

---

Sign Up for AAC Emails

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. Questions or suggestions? Email us: [email protected].

Chelan County Mountain Rescue

Race Against Time: Trapped Under a Boulder in the Enchantments
Enchantments, Washington

On October 10, Chelan County Mountain Rescue (CCMR) responded to an incident involving a hiker who had become trapped under a large boulder. The hiker and a friend had gotten off the trail near Lake Viviane in the Enchantments, nearly 10 miles from the road, when he dislodged the rock that pinned him.

Alerted to the accident in midmorning, the Snohomish County Helicopter Rescue Team was able to insert two medics above the patient, who was located on a very steep, rocky embankment. The situation was worse than expected. Both of the hikers’ legs and his left arm were pinned by a boulder the size of a refrigerator. The boulder also was wedged between a rock wall and a tree. The medics set up an anchor, rappelled to the site, and worked to stabilize the patient, who had already lost a lot of blood.

Chelan County Fire District and CCMR personnel arrived by helicopter, aiming to use inflatable airbags to lift the rock off the hiker. The rescuers were able to free the patient’s arm but not his legs, and any wrong move might do further damage. While personnel from the fire district, Cascade Medical, and the Helicopter Rescue Team worked with the patient, the CCMR team began planning for either a raise or lower from the location, depending on whether a helicopter hoist would be possible. They also laid plans for a potential trail evacuation.

Rescuers considered cutting down the tree anchoring the boulder, but feared the rock might roll onto a team member or crush the patient’s legs even more. One of the most experienced CCMR members hung from a rope, dug through the blood-soaked earth, and advocated for one more attempt with an airbag, despite being in the line of fire if the rock rolled. As the bag inflated, the rock shifted just enough that rescuers were able to pull out the hiker. The medics then tended to a large bleeding wound in his right leg and packaged him in a litter.

The Snohomish County Helicopter Team attempted a hoist, but sudden downdrafts caused them to abort. Another helicopter tried to land above the scene, and CCMR prepared to raise the patient and then carry him to that landing zone, but after about 10 minutes in the area, that helicopter also had to leave due to gusty winds.

CCMR set up a lowering operation to get the patient to the bottom of the face, with the expectation of carrying him to a lower landing zone or even all the way to the trailhead. They feared the patient might not survive such a long evacuation. Luckily for all involved, the Snohomish County Helicopter Rescue Team was able to return one more time and successfully hoist the patient from the scene. He was transferred to the hospital for emergency surgery and the start of a long recovery.

You can read accident reports like this and more by exploring our publications.

---

Listen to the Podcast Episode

When the Chelan County Mountain Rescue team first heard that there was a boulder pinning a hiker in the Enchantments, they just assumed the hiker was trailside and easily accessible. But as the helicopter dropped them off at the scene of the accident, they quickly realized that the fridge sized boulder was pinning the hiker between a tree and another rock—right above a perilous cliff edge. The patient had both of his legs pinned and one arm–and his stats were falling fast. The team had to work quickly to secure everyone on the cliff side, and utilize a novel technique to lift the boulder and free the hiker fast, and without causing more crush injuries. We sat down with Vern Nelson, President of Chelan County Mountain Rescue and one of the team leads on the mission, to talk about this new rescue technique, what he wishes climbers knew to prevent accidents in the mountains, and the culture of blame and shame around climbing and hiking accidents.

---

The following Search & Rescue team has been selected for the 2023 Rocky Talkie Search & Rescue Award. The selected teams were selected to highlight the unbelievable skill, dedication, and bravery of volunteer SAR members, and remind us of the critical role they play in keeping us safe in the backcountry.

Join us in recognizing and celebrating volunteer SAR by watching their stories and voting for the rescue that most inspired you.

By voting, you’ll be automatically entered to win free Rocky Talkies and American Alpine Club memberships. Voting ends August 11th.

Inyo County Search and Rescue

Overnight Multi-Pitch: Stranded on a Cliff with a Broken Leg
Mt. Emerson, Inyo County, California

At around 2 p.m. on May 27, Inyo County Search and Rescue coordinators were notified that an emergency satellite beacon had been activated on Mt. Emerson in the High Sierra. One member of a party of three climbers had been struck by rockfall at a belay station, breaking her leg and foot in several places. The climbers were about 1,500 feet up the southeast face (III 5.4), at an elevation of about 12,000 feet. The SAR team was activated, and coordinators requested a helicopter from California Highway Patrol.

The SAR team noted that a cold wind system was forecasted to arrive and persist through the weekend, possibly affecting a helicopter’s ability to hoist the patient. The expected weather also meant a potentially life-threatening situation if the party had to spend the night out on the mountain. Plan A would be to attempt a helicopter hoist, but the more likely Plan B would mean assisting the party by climbing and descending the route on Mt. Emerson. Plan B would mean an all-nighter.

Shortly before 6 p.m., an attempted helicopter hoist failed due to gusty winds. Over the next few hours, six SAR members and their equipment were dropped off at 10,500 feet. Team members started climbing the southeast face right as darkness fell, with the first member arriving at the patient by around 9:45 p.m. The patient was assessed and packaged in a vacuum splint and rescue litter. By midnight, it was time to begin the long process of descending the route.

During a previous rescue on the same route on Mt. Emerson, in 2019, an Inyo SAR member had been struck and significantly injured by rockfall. With this in mind, the descent was executed in careful stages to minimize the number of people exposed to rockfall and to mitigate the perils of working in the dark, cold, and windy conditions. One SAR member would rappel a 300-foot rope and establish an anchor in a safe spot. The uninjured subjects would rappel to that spot. Next, the litter with the injured person would be lowered on two ropes, along with three litter attendants, while each rope was controlled by a SAR member. Each of these cycles took well over an hour, and rockfall was a constant hazard.

The patient reached the ground around 9 a.m. after five 300-foot lowers. From the base of the route, about 20 SAR members, who had hiked through the night to reach the climb, carried the patient through a large talus field and wheeled the litter out to the trailhead and a waiting ambulance. She reached the hospital about 24 hours after the accident.

You can read accident reports like this and more by exploring our publications.

---

Listen to the Podcast Episode

When rockfall takes its toll, things get serious. Late in the day on an alpine climb in the Sierra, a microwave sized block fell and broke the leg of a climber as she stood at a belay 1,500 ft up Mt Emerson. As Inyo County Search and Rescue launched into the mission, they quickly realized that helicopter evacuation would not be possible given the weather. With freezing temperatures setting in and darkness falling, the ground team sprung into action—ultimately climbing hundreds of feet to the patient, and rigging hundreds of feet of a static lowering system to ultimately get her to a hospital 24 hours later, dodging inclement weather and rockfall hazards along the way. In this episode, we sat down with Todd Vogel, one of the team leads for the mission, to learn about the nitty gritty details of the rescue, what happens when the weather is too bad for helicopters, and how SAR teams deal with the emotional roller-coaster of their work.

---

The following Search & Rescue team has been selected for the 2023 Rocky Talkie Search & Rescue Award. The selected teams were selected to highlight the unbelievable skill, dedication, and bravery of volunteer SAR members, and remind us of the critical role they play in keeping us safe in the backcountry.

Join us in recognizing and celebrating volunteer SAR by watching their stories and voting for the rescue that most inspired you.

By voting, you’ll be automatically entered to win free Rocky Talkies and American Alpine Club memberships. Voting ends August 11th.

Portland Mountain Rescue

Over the Edge: Uncontrolled Slide Into an Active Volcanic Fumarole
Mt. Hood, Oregon

Around 5 p.m. on January 26, 2022, a snowboarder (male, 28) was riding off the Hogsback, a steep ridge high on Mt. Hood. The snow surface was very firm and icy, and the snowboarder lost an edge. He slid off the ridge and fell into a large cavity in the snow over the Devil’s Kitchen fumarole. (A fumarole is a vent in the earth that emits volcanic gasses.) From the snow surface, he fell about 30 feet to rocks in the bottom of the cavity. The snowboarder sustained a broken leg that prevented him from climbing out. His situation was dire because the Devil’s Kitchen fumarole vents steam and hydrogen sulfide gas that can accumulate at toxic levels in the cavity. His two partners witnessed the fall and called 911.

The Hood River Crag Rats and Portland Mountain Rescue (PMR) both were dispatched. Volunteer rescuers began arriving at Timberline Lodge around 7:30 p.m. Team 1, consisting of 10 rescuers from both units, rode a snowcat to the top of the Palmer ski lift (8,500’) and proceeded from there on foot. They reached the fumarole at 10,000 feet at roughly 10:30 p.m. The snowboarder’s two partners were becoming hypothermic, and they were provided with fluids, food, and a heat blanket.

To protect against toxic hydrogen sulfide gas, any rescuer entering a fumarole snow cavity must wear a respirator, goggles, and a monitor that sounds an alarm if gas concentrations reach dangerous levels. To determine if it is safe for a rescuer to be in a fumarole cavity even with protective equipment, PMR uses a second monitor to remotely measure gas levels. One rescuer donned protective equipment while others rigged the PMR-designed Counterweight Fumarole Extraction system, with which rescuers on the surface can haul a rescuer and patient out using mechanical advantage.

When the rescuer reached the patient at the bottom of the fumarole cavity at 11:10 p.m., he found the patient’s injuries would require using a litter for extraction. Another rescuer, a physician, rappelled into the fumarole on a second rope system to assist in packaging the patient. Team 1 then extracted both rescuers and the patient from the fumarole about six hours after he fell in.

Team 2, consisting of rescuers from both units as well as paramedics from American Medical Response, arrived at Devil’s Kitchen around midnight. One member of Team 2 escorted the injured party’s partners down to Timberline Lodge. Team 2 then began lowering the patient in a litter 1,500 feet down to the Palmer ski lift on extremely icy, steep slopes. From the top of the lift, the patient was transferred into a snowcat and transported to the parking lot, where an ambulance was waiting. All personnel were out of the field by 3:45 a.m.

You can read accident reports like this and more by exploring our publications.

---

Listen to the Podcast Episode

A skier on Mt. Hood had slid out and fallen into an open volcanic pit—the Devil’s Kitchen Fumerole. With a broken femur and the toxic gasses of the volcano swirling in the air—the situation was dire. Many of the folks on Portland Mountain Rescue and the Hood River Crag Rats weren’t sure that the patient would survive when they first got the call. But with their unique fumerole self-lowering rope system, PMR and the Crag Rats were able get the patient out of that alien world of ice and snow and toxic gasses. To dig into the details of the mission, we sat down with Cully Wiseman, a surgeon and the head medical lead on this mission, and Scott Norton, a rescue leader on the mission. Learn about their decision making process during rescues, the types of accidents they most often see, and what they wish climbers knew about SAR.

---

The following Search & Rescue team has been selected for the 2023 Rocky Talkie Search & Rescue Award. The selected teams were selected to highlight the unbelievable skill, dedication, and bravery of volunteer SAR members, and remind us of the critical role they play in keeping us safe in the backcountry.

Join us in recognizing and celebrating volunteer SAR by watching their stories and voting for the rescue that most inspired you.

By voting, you’ll be automatically entered to win free Rocky Talkies and American Alpine Club memberships. Voting ends August 11th.

---

Protecting Pine Mountain

A Story from the AAC Policy Team

by Chris Morissette

PC: AAC member Nate Ptacek

Only an hour and a half drive from the coast, Pine Mountain is one of a few remaining sky islands in California, a unique geological formation that consists of isolated mountains surrounded by radically different lowland environments. At an elevation of 7,000’, it is one of the best summer bouldering, hiking, and camping destinations almost anywhere in central and southern California. However, its under attack. The Reyes Peak Forest Health and Fuels Reduction Project is the United States Forest Service’s (USFS) plan to cut trees and clear chaparral across 755 acres on the Pine Mountain ridgeline. This story covers why logging on Pine Mountain would be a disaster for the ecology of this area, why the area is so culturally important for climbers and local Tribes, and the legal action that the AAC is taking to address this.

---

Update on Pine Mountain Litigation

We are disappointed to learn that a federal judge in the U.S. District Court for the Central District of California ruled against protecting a 755 acre tract of land on the top of Pine Mountain and Reyes Peak in the Los Padres National Forest area. The AAC, Los Padres ForestWatch, Keep Sespe Wild Committee, and Earth Island Institute—collectively represented by the Environmental Defense Center—joined up with the Center for Biological Diversity, California Chaparral Institute, and Patagonia Works—represented by the Center for Biological Diversity. Together, we filed a lawsuit in 2022 to halt a controversial logging and vegetation clearing project (The Reyes Peak Forest Health and Fuels Reduction Project) the U.S. Forest approved nearly two-years ago. The area, enjoyed by climbers, hikers, bikers and other outdoor enthusiasts, is one of the few remaining "sky islands" in California. The lawsuit alleged violations of NEPA, Roadless Area Conservation Rule, Endangered Species Act, and the National Forest Management Act. The AAC is working with their partners in the litigation and their legal team to determine next steps.

Carl Blaurock, A Voice from the AAC Archives

By Walter R. Borneman

Carl Blaurock performing a headstand with (left to right) unknown woman, Sally Rogers, and Agnes Vaille. Photo by Bill Ervin. Agnes Vaille Collection, American Alpine Club Library.

Reading the photo captions Carl Blaurock wrote in white ink on black album pages while in his 20s, one hears the same voice that in his 90s chortled about his long-ago exploits. Such antics included standing on his head atop mountains so that, in Carl’s words, “I would have my feet higher on that mountain than anybody else.” Archives are more than stacks of paper or piles of black and white photos. Look closer. Archives convey a sense of time but are also a reflection of individual personality.

Hermann & Elmina Buhl with Carl Blaurock (standing) and Albert Ellingwood at the Summit on Gannett—11 Aug 1924—Ellingwood Collection, American Alpine Club Library.

Carl Blaurock was born in Denver in 1894, attended Colorado School of Mines, and became a goldsmith like his father. Having climbed Pikes Peak as his first big mountain, Carl became an early member of the Colorado Mountain Club (CMC). A story circulates that Carl was a founding member of the club, but consult the archives. The signature page of the CMC charter from April 1912—a history of Denver society in and of itself—does not include Blaurock’s name among the twenty-five signers. Nonetheless, Carl and his climbing buddy, Bill Ervin, became Colorado Mountain Club mainstays and the first to climb all of Colorado’s fourteeners, the peaks above 14,000 feet, of which 46 were recognized in 1923. 

Carl’s exploits with pioneering woman mountaineer Agnes Vaille, college professor and roped climbing aficionado Albert Ellingwood, attorney and historian Stephen H. Hart and others were difficult for the time and sometimes challenged by mishaps just getting to the trailhead. On a 1924 trek into the Wind Rivers, Blaurock and Ellingwood were slowed by three tire blowouts in the first few miles between Denver and Longmont. Years later, the Wyoming State Geological Survey would find Carl’s photos from the trip a valuable record in studying glacial retreat.

A young Carl on the summit of Mount Evans. Blaurock Collection, AAC Library.

Carl on Grizzly Peak. Blaurock Collection, AAC Library.

“Every year I’d break a ski jumping off cornices or some darn thing.” - Quote from A Climber’s Climber: On the Trail with Carl Blaurock.

Photo from Blaurock Collection, AAC Library.

98-year old Carl heading to a family reunion with his 1912 bedroll (sleeping bag). Photo from the Trail & Timberline, November 1992.

This bedroll and a full set of Trail & Timberlines can be found in the AAC Library.

I first met Carl in 1983, when he was an energetic 89 years young. Thanks to the efforts of climber and attorney Barbara J. Euser, Cordillera Press was publishing “his” book, A Climber’s Climber, under Barbara’s steady hand. Carl and I sipped his homemade chokecherry brandy—he was quite proud of it—as we looked through his photo albums. It was like opening a time capsule. Not just decades but three-quarters of a century fell away as I read his impish photo captions and listened to his stories. 

Albert Ellingwood and Carl Blaurock on the Summit of Mt Harding on 10 Aug 1924—Ellingwood Collection.

Carl’s admiration for Albert Ellingwood as an early technical climber was rock solid and long-held. So, too, was Carl’s continuing disdain over many decades for Walter Kiener, Agnes Vaille’s “smart aleck” companion on her fatal Longs Peak climb. Agnes had wanted to be the first to climb its east face in winter. The three of them tried several times late in the fall of 1924, but when Agnes and Kiener set off without Carl on a January attempt, Carl warned her, “Don’t go, Agnes.” He called retrieving her body “one of the saddest events in my life.”

The Blaurock Collection in the AAC Library includes the photos from A Climber’s Climber, digital copies of 8mm films from climbs in the 1930s and 1940s, and Carl’s bedroll and tripod. You will also find the articles he wrote for Trail and Timberline. Many of the photographs Carl took—he was a talented and relentless photographer—are scattered throughout fifty years of the publication. Carl’s last major climb and photography quest was up Notch Mountain in 1973 to replicate William Henry Jackson’s famous photo of Mount of the Holy Cross on its 100th anniversary.

Carl’s favorite photo—labeled as such in one of his albums—was one he took of 14,197-foot Crestone Needle in 1920 from the northern slopes of Marble Mountain. The clouds are surreal, and plenty of late spring snow adorns the peaks. It should come as no surprise that a large print of this photograph, a gift from Carl, hangs in my home. I never look at it without hearing his voice.

Carl’s Favorite: Crestone Needle, 1920. CMC Collection, AAC Library.

---

Walter R. Borneman co-authored A Climbing Guide to Colorado’s Fourteeners in 1978. His other books include Alaska, Iron Horses, The Admirals, and Brothers Down. He has spent a lot of time on mountains and in archives.

Behind the Scenes of United in Yosemite

Dig into the details of the first ever United in Yosemite event, hosted by The American Alpine Club (through our Climb United program), Yosemite National Park, and the Yosemite Conservancy. This climbing festival was an intentional space created to celebrate the diverse voices of climbing—to make sure the big walls are the only intimidating thing about this legendary climbing location, not the culture or community. Dive into the photos and participant reflections about the event below.

For all current United in Yosemite information click here.

CLIMB: Behind the Scenes of the USA Climbing Training Center

In this episode of the podcast, we’re featuring a conversation between guest host and AAC board member Cody Kaemmerlen, and USA Climbing’s Head Coach, Josh Larson. Cody and Josh hang out at the USA Training Center to record this conversation, and talk team culture, behind the scenes of comp training, and even a bit about how the Olympics is shaping competitive climbing. This isn’t your typical training podcast. We’re taking a deep dive into the inner workings of an ever evolving and cutting edge part of our sport. Listen in to get some insights on the philosophy powering the USA Climbing Team, from the coach who trains some of the best climbers in America. 

---

Learn More:

Cody Kaemmerlen

USA Head Coach Josh Larson

Team USA Climbing

National Team Rankings

Prescription—July

Mt. Assiniboine is nicknamed the "Matterhorn of the Rockies." Both peaks share an imposing geometry—and plenty of loose limestone. On August 12, 2022, a climber fell to his death (yellow line) from the popular and “moderate” North Ridge route after slipping from a slick handhold. Photo courtesy of Parks Canada

Fatal Slip on Rock | Climbing Unroped

British Columbia, Assiniboine Provincial Park

On August 12, 2022, a party of two climbers left the Hind Hut to ascend the North Ridge of Mt. Assiniboine (AD 5.5). By late morning, they had reached one of the steeper upper steps at about 3,500 meters (11,482 feet). The pair had soloed everything up to this point and arrived several minutes apart. The first climber to arrive (Climber 1) assessed the next step and determined they would likely use a rope due to the steep angle and sloping nature of some of the holds. When Climber 2 arrived, the pair took a break and considered their options. Meanwhile, a separate party downclimbed the step. This party was unroped.

After watching the other party downclimb, Climber 2 decided he would try soloing the step and started up the pitch while Climber 1 packed the rope. As Climber 2 started up, Climber 1 watched him grab a sloping hold, slip, and fall down the north face. He fell out of sight. Climber 1 tried to gain a better vantage point by carefully climbing to the top of the rock step but was not able to see his partner. He then triggered an SOS on his satellite communication device. At the top of the step, he met a guided group on their way down. The guide radioed for assistance and helped Climber 1 down to a flat ledge. After communicating with the rescue team, it was determined that the guided group would remain with Climber 1 and wait for a rescue.

A team arrived by helicopter approximately one hour later and located Climber 1 and the guided group. Two other guided parties were located near the summit, and the deceased, fallen climber was located at approximately 3,300 meters (10,826’). After surveying the scene, it was determined that all the parties would be removed prior to accessing the fallen climber, in order to minimize rockfall hazard to the rescuers below. All climbers were flown or slung down to the Hind Hut, and the fallen climber was then accessed and slung down to the hut as well.

The uninjured climber who lost his partner to a fatal fall waits for rescue below the steep upper step on the North Ridge of Mt Assiniboine. Photo courtesy of Parks Canada

Analysis

The North Ridge of Mt. Assiniboine is often soloed due to its low technical difficulty. However, it requires a great deal of care and experience to climb safely. The route is very exposed, and a route-finding mistake can quickly elevate the technical grade. Loose, sloping, or slippery rock is common. While the route was dry on this day, snow, ice, or verglas are common in the upper sections.

While we cannot know with certainty why Climber 2 decided to solo the steep step, prior to the ascent he had expressed interest in climbing the route unroped. His decision may have been influenced by watching the other unroped party. Fatigue and limited technical rock climbing experience may have also played a part. Whatever influenced his decision, this incident highlights the risks involved in soloing exposed terrain. Easy terrain can prove fatal.

Communications during this incident were very good, in large part due to the guided parties (who had radios) and a satellite communication device. The rescue team was able to coordinate the pickup of the three groups, thereby eliminating the potential for human-generated rockfall during the recovery. It is not always possible to remove other climbing parties from an accident scene. If you find yourself in a situation where a rescue is occurring nearby or below you, it is very important to remain stationary or move with extreme care to prevent rockfall hazard. (Source: Parks Canada.)

This accident is eerily similar to another we reported in 2017.

---

Resources for Loss

Climbing is inherently dangerous, but that does not make loss easier. If you are struggling after the loss of a loved one, check out our Climbing Grief Fund Directory. Whatever you are facing, we believe you are worthy of hope, effective therapy, and access to the best mental health resources.

---

Updates on Auto Belays

In January 2023, we reported an auto belay accident that sadly occurs with some frequency. This accident had a happy ending and contained a powerful lesson.

Last month, the Climbing Wall Association (CWA) released updated Auto Belay Guidance in hope of reducing auto belay incidents and improve the culture of responsibility in the sport of climbing. The CWA is a trade association dedicated to protecting, connecting, and educating the indoor climbing industry.

Along with its updated guidance, the CWA released a commissioned study conducted by Prof. Jon Heshka of Thompson Rivers University, titled “Understanding Climber Behaviour in Climbing Gyms.” The study sheds light on climbers’ behavior and attitudes toward auto belay usage and climbing gyms in general.

---

Shop the ANAC Collection

---

Join the Club—United We Climb.

Get Accidents Sent to You Annually

Partner-level members receive the Accidents in North American Climbing book every year. Detailing the most noteworthy climbing and skiing accidents each year, climbers, rangers, rescue professionals, and editors analyze what went wrong, so you can learn from others’ mistakes.

Rescue & Medical Expense Coverage

Climbing can be a risky pursuit, but one worth the price of admission. Partner-level members receive $7,500 in rescue services and $5,000 in emergency medical expense coverage. Looking for deeper coverage? Sign up for the Leader level and receive $300k in rescue services.

---

Sign Up for AAC Emails

Assisted Braking Devices

Assisted Braking Devices have been a part of American climbing for a long time. By 1992, American climbers and belayers were alternately condemning and commending the new tools, and most of those perceptions persist today.  In many cases, the GriGri is unfairly given credit for securing belays in an unprecedented way.  In other cases, the GriGri is maligned as symbolic of complacency, poor belaying, and laziness.  Over the years, American belayers have over-heard epithets like:

“The GriGri promotes lazy belaying.”

“The GriGri has an automatic brake.  You can’t mess it up.”

“GriGris might be great for toproping or sport climbing, but it’s unsafe to use them for trad.”

“GriGris are the industry standard for belaying a toprope.”

These statements and the reductive thinking behind them have inhibited Assisted Braking Devices from taking their logical place in American climbing. This article will seek to unpack and explain some of the historical and cultural underpinnings of assisted braking devices like the GriGri in order to explore how these devices have gotten to the point that they are neither appreciated for their contributions to climbing nor adequately respected for their complexity and intricacy.  

To get there, we will need to clarify the current and historic role of backups in any technical system related to climbing. We will need to explain how these tactics long preceded the invention of the GriGri, because they are still just as important in the era of assisted braking devices as they were before GriGris hit the scene in the early ’90s.  Then, every climber will be better equipped to discover what Assisted Braking Devices offer to the overall security of a belay or rappelling system.

This article will qualify the use of Assistant Braking Devices according to the following principles:

• Assisted Braking Devices, when used correctly, provide a reliable backup to any belayer.  

• Assisted Braking Devices, when used correctly, offer the greatest movement economy when delivering slack to a lead climber.

• Unlike Manual Braking Devices (like any tube style device), ABDs have widely variable performance characteristics from one model to the next.

Backups

In climbing, we use backups all the time.  We use them as an integral part of our systems and we often use words like redundancy and security when we’re talking about backups.  In every case, the basic concept is the same: a climber relies on one system to stay safe, and there is another system that acts as a back-up in case the primary system fails or malfunctions.  

Let’s look at some of the most common examples:

Climbing

Rappelling

Anchoring

Backups are a great idea, and they help us have a lot more confidence that we’re going to survive an error, a slip, an oversight, or a freak occurrence.  When we choose not to use a backup, we’re often flirting with unnecessary risks.

Let’s look at some examples:

Free Soloing

Lowering with an MBD without a backup

It is not common to think of backups in this way. However, when a climber analyzes the role of backups and looks at all climbing practices through that lens, it is difficult to escape the conclusion that holding a climber’s weight with a manual braking device and lowering a climber with that same device is tantamount to free-soloing. Unlike free-soloing, though, belaying usually involves two people; they are both complicit in this arrangement.

Before Assisted Braking Devices were an option, conservative belay teams relied on backups that are still options today. 

Since climbers are often standing around in groups of three or four, it's easy to offer a backup belay.

If a backup belayer is not standing behind the belay device, in the braking plane of the device, the value of the backup might be nominal.

These backup knots, tied every 10 to 15 feet, provide a backup to the belayer when she does not have someone available to provide a backup belay.

While a friction hitch can provide an adequate backup for lowering, it takes practice to tie this hitch while holding a climber,  and it won't work on every harness' leg loop design.

A careful observer of these traditional forms of backup will notice that an incompetent belayer (or pair of belayers) still has the capacity to injure a climber. So, an unstated but obvious addendum to the application of any backup to any system is that incompetence is presumed to be negated. It’s an important distinction to make. Gross incompetence can override all reasonable backup systems, and safeguarding against incompetence quickly becomes impracticable.  

Belaying systems presume functional cooperative competence as a starting point, and backups safeguard unforeseen forces and circumstances that can unexpectedly incapacitate a belayer. So, it’s important to combine fundamental belay principles to any belay device, regardless of the braking apparatus. All devices require a belayer to keep a brake hand on at all times, slide or alternate the brake hand only when the rope is in the braking plane of the device, and use the hand wrist and arms according to their natural strength.

Assisted Braking Device = Backups

An assisted braking device, operated within the fundamental principles of belaying, is an especially valuable tool if climbing teams prioritize backups. If a belayer takes an honest self-assessment of all the things that might thwart the best intentions of a diligent and competent belay, then it is difficult to justify not prioritizing backups. It is perfectly reasonable, and perfectly human, to accept that any number of sights, sounds, and distractions compete for a belayer’s attention. Other climbers, friends and acquaintances, passersby, flora and fauna, changes in weather, they all distract even the most committed belayers. In these perfectly predictable and likely circumstances, the assisted braking mechanism of an ABD can provide the ready-to-go attentiveness that the belayer momentarily lacks.

More persuasively, there are occurrences in the climbing environment that can easily incapacitate a belayer, regardless of their position relative to the climber (above or below). If a belayer is willing to indulge the imagination, these hazards quickly accumulate:

• Rockfall generated by climbers above in a separate party

• Rockfall generated by a climber in one’s own party

• Natural rockfall

• Icefall (for all the same reasons)

• Avalanche (for all the same reasons)

• Electricity of all kinds

• Aggressive Fauna (stinging insects and arachnids, snakes, large predators)

• Aggressive Flora (treefall, deadfall, prickling plants, poisonous plants)

• A leader climber falling and impacting the belayer

• Medical problems (allergies, asthma, diabetes, seizures, other chronic conditions)

Accident archives and anecdotal evidence demonstrate, again and again, that the selection of an ABD provides belayers and climbers with a backup should any of the aforementioned hazards incapacitate the belayer.

On one notable example, a pair of proficient climbers had a spectacularly close call in Eldorado Canyon in 2008. In much the same manner catalogued above, the leader climber dislodged a large rock during a lead fall.  That rock fell and hit the belayer.  The belayer, having selected an ABD, managed to arrest the leader’s fall despite the severe injuries he sustained.  Had the belayer selected a manual breaking device instead, like an ATC, without any sort of backup, the leader would have likely been severely injured as well. As it turned out, the leader was able to run for help and assist rescuers to evacuate his partner.

An ABD is not a panacea for mishap or incident, but it does provide all belay teams, like this team from Eldorado Canyon, with a margin of error. Surely, that’s an adequate incentive for any climbing team to learn more about ABDs, and it’s a sound reason to learn to use them correctly. 

Movement Economy while Lead Belaying

Many assisted braking devices offer the greatest economy of movement when delivering slack to the lead climber. Even though many belayers assert that ABDs have cumbersome mechanics resulting in a jammed rope and an inability to provide adequate slack, most of these assertions are based on a lack familiarity with the techniques needed to use an ABD to belay a lead climber.

The key to this movement economy involves a stationary brake hand. It might be helpful to see fundamental belaying with an MBD contrasted with an ABD to demonstrate this concept explicitly.

Many ABDs, by contrast, keep the brake hand stationary, eliminating an entire step in the belay cycle. As result, there can be a 50% increase in overall efficiency when the belayer delivers slack to the leader.

This movement economy is especially useful on easy or moderate terrain, when the leader is unlikely to fall. One of the greatest hazards to the leader in that terrain might be getting tripped or snagged by an inadequate supply of slack from the belayer.  An imperative to provide adequate slack is also common on low-angled terrain when the leader tends to move in long strides. That kind of movement necessitates adequate slack because the leader’s balance is often precarious and unstable. In any case, it may be valuable for a belayer to opt for a belay tool and technique that provides slack to the leader as efficiently as possible while also adhering to the fundamental principles of belaying.

Variations among ABDs

While the Petzl GriGri tends to represent the entire genre of ABDs due to its popularity and history, it is not the only ABD available. A careful analysis of the various functions, applications, and performance characteristics of each ABD should help belayers make an informed choice when they select a device. 

Applications

ABDs are typically deployed in the following contexts, although many of these applications are not necessarily recommended by the manufacturer. Manufacturers tend to create recommended use guidelines that pertain to the most common usage, and any application outside of that usage is implicitly discouraged. Nevertheless, many climbers rely on these kinds of applications, so it will be important to disclose the nature of each application, even though the manufacturers may not. These applications will be listed from most to least common. An ABD’s ability to perform these applications and functions help climbers decide when and how to use one tool or another.

1.     Belaying a counterweighted toprope. In a toproping scenario, ABDs are commonly deployed by institutional programs, climbing gyms, and professional climbing instructors. The values of an ABD as a backup are especially conspicuous to these users.

2.     Belaying a leader in a counterweight arrangement. The belayer’s body weight anchors a leader’s ascent in protection increments. Sometimes this arrangement is distorted by the use of a ground anchor or a connection that protects the belayer from an upward pull. An ABD can predictably increase the impact forces generated by lead falls. Impact forces are measurably increased on the belayer’s body, the climber’s body, and the protection/anchor. In most scenarios lead climbing scenarios, however, the differences in impact force would not have catastrophic consequences.  

3.     Rappelling. If a rope is somehow fixed or counterweighted, an ABD can be used as rappel tool on a single strand of rope.

When a single strand of rope is fixed, blocked, or counterweighted, an ABD can be used for rappelling.

"Rappelling with GRIGRI takes training, and it is important to system check ensuring proper rigging and connection."-Petzl

4.     Rope Ascension. If a rope is somehow fixed or counterweighted, an ABD can be used as a progress capture in an ascension system.

Many climbing instructors, like this one, learn to use an ABD for rope ascension.  As an improvised progress capture, these tools can be effective.

5.     Direct Belay. ABDs are often used by belayers to top-belay a second climber directly off the anchor. When top-belaying, direct belays are particularly advantageous. ABDs create unique challenges when belaying a leader in direct belay configurations.

Direct belay applications must allow an ABD a full and uninterrupted range of motion.  If the device is laying on a slab or crammed against a protruding feature, the assisted braking function can be compromised.

Performance Characteristics.  

ABD manufacturers will each try to convince consumers that their products represent the most secure, reliable, easy-to-use device on the market. The truth is that climbing has diverse contexts with diverse environments, climates, and risks. That diversity is further compounded by the number people who climb: big people, small people, big hands, small hands, right-handed people, and left-handed. Some people are missing digits or limbs, and that might make one product more advantageous than the next.

When combined with function and the need for multi-functionality, each device will also have an array of performance characteristics that depend on each individual user’s style, body type, and unique challenges. Asking the following questions of every ABD will guide a user to the right model.  

Stationary Brake Hand: Does the manufacturer recommend a belay technique that allows the brake hand to remain stationary? Many devices do allow for this movement economy, and it is one of the most persuasive reasons to select an ABD in the first place.

Mechanical Braking or Passive Braking:  Is the assisted braking function mechanical or passive?  Mechanical Assisted Braking Devices, like the GriGri 2 or Vergo, have moving cams, clamps or swivels that pin the brake strand of the rope.  They are typically bigger and heavier than their passive counterparts. Their performance can be challenged in wet, snowy, or icy conditions. They can provide smooth lowers, multi-functionality, and reliable braking, though.

Passive Assisted Braking Devices exaggerate the “grabbing” quality of any aperture or tube style belay device. The “grabbing” effect is so severe, it effectively brakes the rope, providing the belayer with a backup.

Ergonomics:  Does the recommended use of the tool force the belayer to sustain unnatural, painful, or uncomfortable body positions?  Test the ergonomics of a device in all the application contexts. For example, the body mechanics involved in using a GriGri 2 are quite natural and comfortable for rappelling and counterweight belaying. But, lowering with a GriGri in a direct belay configuration requires an awkward manipulation of the GriGri 2 handle.  

Reliability of Assisted Braking Function:  Does the Assisted Braking Function perform reliably in the widest range of conditions and circumstances?  What are the known malfunction conditions? No ABD is automatic and 100% reliable.  They all have quirky and unique failure mechanisms that range from interference in the braking function’s range of motion, interference caused by precipitation (frozen or otherwise), inappropriate carabiner selection, or rope entrapment. Manufacturers don’t always advertise these failure mechanisms. 

Multi-functionality:  Does the device perform more than one function in climbing?  Do all the functions of the tool fall under the device's recommended use?  Are some functions discouraged, or are they simple NOT encouraged?

Smooth lowering and rappelling:  When lowering and rappelling, is the belayer able to control the rate of descent and keep that rate constant, without sudden halts or acceleration?  The ability to adjust the rate and the consistency of the rate varies from one tool to the next, and it can be especially inconsistent when using ropes at the extreme ends of the recommended range, ropes that are wet, or with smaller statured people.

Ambidextrous Usage:  Is the device effectively unusable by a right or left-handed belayer?  Does it function equally well with either handedness?  Many devices do not offer a compelling left-handed technique. Left-handed belayers often learn to use their right hands to belay because there is not a recommended technique, or the recommended technique is not as effective as simply learning the right-handed technique.

Size and Weight:  How big and how heavy is the tool?  Are there lighter options that accomplish the same functions and have the same performance characteristics otherwise?  In climbing, the size and weight of equipment can often make a big difference to the overall enjoyment and success of the team. All other things being equal, why not have a lighter, more compact tool?

Rope twisting: Does the device alter the plane of the rope’s travel?  When ropes move continuously in the same plane of travel, the rope is less likely to twist.  When that plane alters, say from a horizontal to vertical plane, twisting the rope is the unavoidable consequence.

Easy to learn, easy to teach:  How long will it take me to learn to use the tool?  Devices that are not ergonomic, have intricate parts and setups, and operate differently than other tools can often be more difficult for a belayer to learn to use correctly.  It shouldn’t take months and months of practice to learn to use a piece of belay hardware.

EDUCATE: New Trends in Climbing Accidents—Summer 2023 Edition

Pete Takeda is back on the podcast! As the editor of Accidents in North American Climbing, he's ready to talk about new trends in climbing accidents that he's seen over the course of editing the 2023 edition of the book. Things get a little emotional, existential, and even a little dark, but ultimately we talk about how crowding at our crags, Youtube climbing education, and even grades are contributing to new types of climbing accidents. After all, as Pete says: “gravity speaks with an eloquence rarely found on Youtube.” But Pete’s also seen trends in the way that the climbing community comes together in the face of horrible tragedy. It’s the combination of both these high consequence accidents, and the community, that makes climbing so real. Get a sneak peek of the newest edition of Accidents in North American Climbing by listening in! We also talk briefly to the expert on the AAC's rescue and medical expense coverage....so if you're worried about the accident trends in this episode, you know what to do to make sure you're covered and prepared in the case of an accident.

---

Episode Resources

Learn about the AAC Rescue Benefit

Explore old issues of Accidents in North American Climbing

Join the Club

Anchors

Anchoring is a subject that is often debated and analyzed, and yet much of what is being proselytized or disparaged does not adhere to fundamental principles of physics, human factors psychology, or a working understanding of rock quality and material science. It is not entirely mysterious how American climbers have gotten to this point, but it is certainly mysterious that so many of us insist upon remaining in a scientific and practical abyss.

Anchoring has evolved. It continues to evolve. If we want to continue that evolution, it’s valuable to explore the relationship between the past, the present, and the future. Today, anchoring is considered to be a precise, quantifiable art, but the science many climbers use to evaluate and quantify an anchor is dubious. Trusted and lauded concepts like equalization and no extension can be proven to be over-valued and/or inconsistently applied, which leaves us on uncertain footing.

If what we know about anchoring is questionable, what can we rely on? What does it mean when we say that anchors should be strong, secure, and simple? 

HISTORY OF ANCHORING

The earliest written instructions for anchoring all emphasized the value of finding a reliable and unquestionable protection point. Rock horns, well-placed ironmongery, threaded holes and chockstones, and substantial vegetation all served to give a belayer enough security that his or her body belay would not be displaced by sudden dynamic loads. Importantly, climbers did not spend much time trying to quantify or calculate the properties of an anchor because the anchor was just one part of a system that depended largely on a gigantic human component: the belayer. Anchoring, as a skill set, was inextricable from the belay that relied on it.

This image, taken from The Climber's Bible by Robin Shaw circa 1983, typifies the instruction of anchoring in a previous era.  The belayer uses his stance to guard the anchor.

Modern belay anchoring is much different. A belayer is not guarding the anchor with her own body weight or using the anchor simply to augment her stance. Instead, the anchor is expected to support a falling, resting, or lowering climber entirely, based on its own integrity and load-bearing capabilities. As a result, the anchor and its focal masterpoint have become the foundation of most technical systems for climbing rock and ice. For example, when top-roping, the anchor is usually asked to hold the belayer and the climber in a counterweight arrangement. In direct belays, the anchor and its masterpoint are asked to sustain the weight of the seconding climber and any loads created to assist the seconding climber. In multi-pitch climbing, the anchor is asked to belay the second and then sustain the upward pull of the leader.

A modern belayer does not just use an anchor as a backup.  As we can see, this belayer is fully committed to the load-bearing properties of the anchor.  It holds his bodyweight, and the bodyweight of his second.

Whether we’re top-roping or multi-pitch climbing, whether we’re in the gym or at the crag, whether we’re building anchors with bolts or trad gear, we are increasingly dependent completely on anchors. And building them has become a foundational skill in technical climbing.

Belaying one or two seconds directly off the anchor is called a Direct Belay.  If an anchor is reliable, direct belays are more versatile and more manageable than alternative configurations.

Modern anchors are configured to secure belayers no matter who they are belaying.  They might be belaying a second; they might be belaying a leader.

ANCHORING PRINCIPLES AND ACRONYMS

A key aspect of modern anchors has been the development of acronyms used to teach and evaluate them. These acronyms are not without merit. They helped a generation of climbers inaugurate a new era in anchoring.

Anchor builders used such mnemonics like a checklist of key principles, and the anchors they created served climb after climb reliably and predictably. Here’s how a typical anchoring scenario might unfold: The anchor builder, armed with a fundamental principle like SERENE, arrives at a pair of bolts. She begins to work through her acronym. She assesses the bolts and feels they are both strong. Knowing she’ll need to build a redundant and equalized anchor, she selects a 7mm nylon cordelette as her attachment material. She doubles up the cord, clips one side to each bolt, targets the anticipated load, and then ties an overhand knot in such manner that creates two isolated legs and a masterpoint. She clips into the master- point with a locking carabiner and her clove-hitched climbing rope.

Before calling “off belay” she reviews her handiwork:

• Good bolts. 25kN each, combining to 50kN at the masterpoint. Solid: Check. 

• One cordellette, one knot, 30 seconds to build. Efficient: Check.

• If any single part of this anchor up to the masterpoint were to fail, there are backups. Redundant: Check.

• When weighted, both legs of the anchor are tight. Equalized: Check.

• If anything were to break, the masterpoint wouldn’t extend. No Extension: Check.

• She’s built a SERENE anchor.

Anchoring acronyms help us ask basic questions about an anchor's qualities, but an absolute loyalty to concepts like redundancy and equalization can be misleading.

Millions of anchors have been constructed in approximately this fashion without incident or mishap, so it would be hasty to suggest that anchoring acronyms do not have value. However, climbers who also happen to be engineers, physicists, or just generally scientific-minded are quick to point out a fact that continues to elude a large number of climbers, climbing instructors, and authors of climbing books: Some of the qualities espoused in these beloved acronyms are not actually achieved in nature, neither practically, mathematically, nor experimentally.

Modern climbers have largely shifted from relying on the belayer’s weight as a key part of the system to relying wholly on the qualities of an anchor, and yet many of the qualities we aspire to achieve are based on nuanced falsehoods. As anchoring situations grow more complex, a climber attempting to tick every box on such an anchor checklist can waste significant time trying to reach unattainable goals. Worse, the climber may be lulled into a false sense of security.

The time has come, as a climbing culture, that we confront the modern science to ensure that it aligns with modern anchors. That might mean that many of our beloved acronyms are best suited to teaching novices, instead of remaining our only checklist as we grow in the sport. But it also might allow our understanding to evolve as rapidly as our sport does. 

Anchoring acronyms still have value when climbers are first learning to build anchors.

THE MYTH OF EQUALIZATION

Anchors never really equalize. That is to say, they never manage to equally distribute the total load of the climbing team equally to all the components in the anchor, unless there is only one component. Yet, much false confidence and unnecessary time is contributed to achieving the elusive goal of equalization.

In experiment after experiment, the most carefully constructed anchor, with the most meticulous care taken to “equalize” all the components, will demonstrate that part of the anchor is holding most of the weight, most of the time. This is especially true if:

• The direction of the load alters in any way
• Any knots in the system tighten
• Any component fails
• The anchor builder intentionally ignores equalization in order to distribute more load to large components and less to small components 

Even the theoretical load distribution of many anchors is not "equal."  This anchor builder intentionally rigged to distribute more load to big pieces and less load to small pieces.

As a result, anchors that funnel into a masterpoint do not succeed, as intended, in aggregating the strength of the things they are attached to. A strong anchor thus is only as strong as the component that is holding most of the weight most of the time.

With an appreciation for this reality, many climbers gravitate toward “self-equalizing” anchoring systems. Magic X and quad configurations have become popular, but their ability to self-adjust to variable load direction is not perfect. The climber imagines that the shifting and sliding masterpoint allows equalization to happen, but in truth it only sort of happens...eventually...if the material doesn’t create too much friction. In the meantime, as the masterpoint slides along, the bulk of the load spikes from one component to the next.

What’s more, self-adjusting anchors all create opportunities for extension, despite the familiar anchoring acronyms’ insistence upon no extension. Anchor builders are forced to qualify that rule, applying load-limiting knots that limit or minimize extension.

For years, we’ve been loyal to principles that are scientifically inaccurate, encourage us to miscalculate the strength of our anchor, and force us to make convenient exceptions to principles like “no extension.” And while these acronyms enabled a generation of anchor builders to solve basic anchoring problems, in more complex scenarios these principles can easily become a liability.

WHY DO ANCHORS FAIL?

Indisputably, anchors fail because the load exceeds the force that the anchor can withstand. Theoretically, that should never happen because falling or lowering climbers create relatively small forces, given the capabilities of our equipment. So how does the load ever exceed the force an anchor can withstand? It happens in a few predictable and observable ways:

• We use our equipment incorrectly.  It doesn’t matter if the manufactured strength of a cam exceeds any load we could ever apply to it if we place the cam incorrectly. Similarly, a rope’s strength is irrelevant if we tie knots incorrectly.

• Our equipment has been damaged. Chemicals or heat or trauma can cause imperceptible weaknesses in our equipment. We have to take good care of our gear.

• The rock is not as good as we think it is. Evaluation of rock, ice, vegetation, and other anchoring media is a critical skill, on a micro and macro level. If there are hidden weaknesses, an anchor will expose them.

• We just make mistakes sometimes. We can all appreciate that fatigue, haste, distraction, and peer pressure lead us to do uncharacteristic and dangerous things. It’s part of being human.

• Acts of nature happen. There is such a thing as a no-win scenario in anchoring. We could do everything right and the mountain we’re climbing could collapse around us. That’s a bad day.

  All this causality is actually good news. The list above is ordered according to factors that we have the most power and knowledge to prevent. We can learn to use our equipment correctly. We can take good care of our gear. We can evaluate the rock more carefully and more skeptically. We can learn to prevent most anchor failures by being careful and knowledgeable.

  Such knowledge and care are part of what is keeping us safe out there, and if there are gaps in our knowledge, addressing the gap is vital. Instead of clinging to ideas like equalization and no extension, we can anticipate lurking dangers in our knowledge deficit.

FAILURE SCENARIOS

The following scenarios could be caused by a simplistic or inaccurate understanding of anchoring.

Small-component anchors. A devout loyalty to simple acronyms can have dangerous consequences when all the components in an anchor are smaller and weaker. If, for ex- ample, an anchor builder takes three small cams with 6kN of holding power each and imagines that an equalized masterpoint offers 18kN of combined strength, all the requirements of a SRENE anchor could be met. However, since equalization never really occurs, one of those pieces will be holding most of the weight most of the time. In that case, a single load that exceeds 6kN could sequentially rip every piece out of the rock, resulting in a catastrophic failure.

Lesson Learned: Avoid building anchors where no single component is strong enough to hold any potential load the climbing team could create.

Anchor builders start to imagine that they can aggregate the load-bearing properties of each component, which might not be true at all.  One tiny piece is probably holding most of the weight most of the time, with only other tiny pieces as backups.

Adjustable anchors. Anchors that self-adjust, like quad and sliding X configurations, do not eliminate extension. Mathematical data suggest the potential shock loads created by extension (even limited and minimized extensions) can be severe. If an anchor is constructed with only two pieces of equipment, like two 10kN cams, all the requirements of a SRENE anchor could be met. Yet a load large enough to make a single piece fail could catastrophically shock-load the second piece as well.

Lesson Learned: If you’re using self-adjusting systems, make sure ALL the components can survive the expected loads AND potential shock loads. Bomber pieces are required. 

Don't forget, adjustable systems do not necessarily create a perfect load distribution.  Add a human factor or a large load and the resulting shock-loads can be more consequential than anchor-builders realize.

Stacked quads or Xs. Just as the self-adjusting properties of a single sliding X or quad configuration are imperfect, stacking these configurations multiplies those imperfections. The failure of a single piece proceeds to shock-load all the remaining pieces.

Lesson Learned: When stacking adjustable systems, make sure the components can handle expected loads AND potential shock loads.

All these potential extensions are also potential shock-loads.  Can all the placements handle all those potential loads?

MORE COMPLEX ANCHORS

SERENE and EARNEST anchors are usually effective for simple top-rope anchors, but there are circumstances where an inability to escape that thinking could prove problematic. More complex anchors require more complex thinking and problem solving. These scenarios don’t occur that often, but, as climbers’ experience grows, most of us eventually will run into one or more of them:

• The direction of load applied to an anchor changes. The belayer could lean on an anchor in one direction, the belay might tug the anchor in a different direction, and two climbers at an anchor might fidget and tug and lean in lots of directions. Belay transitions on multi-pitch climbs can offer dramatic direction of load changes too. Typically, the anchor is rigged to belay a second climber, and then the same anchor is used for the lead belayer. The two loads could be completely different.

All these different changes in the direction of load will shift the entire load onto a single component.  

• The components available for anchoring might be vastly dissimilar. Some cams are rated to hold over 14kN, while the smallest cams may be rated to hold less than 6kN. Even if equalization were achievable in an anchor, why would anyone expect these two cams to do equal work? They are not equally valuable components. When anchoring components have vastly dissimilar load-bearing properties, the rigging will have to be more complicated.

The concept of equalization presumes that each component is equally valuable.  But, even perfect placements in perfect rock do not alway have equal load bearing properties, as pictured here.  Anchor builders might instead make gestures to prioritize the strongest pieces, to equitably distribute load, rather than equalize.

• A climber often has to construct an anchor with limited resources. The values and principles of anchoring do not change, but building a fundamentally sound anchor with limited resources is very challenging. It often requires some innovative and artistic problem-solving, hence the complexity.

How often has this happened to you?  You've got to build an anchor with the gear you have left.  It can get complicated when the resources are limited.

It should also be mentioned that the circumstances mentioned above might coincide and overlap. Since direct belays rely on fundamentally sound anchors, they may not be an option in some of these extreme scenarios.  Belayers may need to insert their own bodies into the system, using stance to supplement the anchor, relying on the anchor as a backup only. Moreover, there is such a thing as a no-win scenario in climbing and in anchoring, when the available resources, the working skill set, or various dire circumstances will not allow an appropriate anchor to be built. When faced with this scenario, a tactical retreat, a call for assistance, or the aid of another climber is preferable to settling for anchors that may well result in catastrophic failure.

THE TRIPLE S: FUNDAMENTALS OF COMPLEX ANCHORS

When anchoring becomes more complicated, a more sophisticated approach positions the anchor builder to answer three basic questions:

Is the anchor strong enough?
Is the anchor secure enough?
Is the anchor as simple as it can be?

This is a broader, more inclusive way to think about anchors than the SERENE-style mnemonic. Call it the Triple S approach. Triple S anchors do not strive to equalize or to eliminate extensions; they strive to distribute load intelligently, minimize extensions, and avoid edge-case failure scenarios. Triple S anchors do not attempt to aggregate strength; they rely on unquestionably strong component parts and anticipate a human factor in that calculation. Triple S anchors do not muddle into unnecessary complexity; they solve the anchoring problem as efficiently as possible.

Strength. An anchor must be adequately strong to sustain all potential loads applied to it. Then, an anchor’s strength must be padded with a margin of error that could account for any number of mistakes that all humans are wont to make. Let’s be conservative and provide ourselves with a 100 percent margin of error. That would mean that any anchor should be strong enough to sustain all potential loads applied to it multiplied by two.

Security. This means that if anything unexpected happens—components fail, the direction of load changes—the anchor must survive those unexpected changes. An anchor that is secure has backups. It has systemic redundancy all the way to the masterpoint. If any single point in the anchor were to fail, other points would provide adequate backups. We make a few exceptions for anchors that are so titanic in nature (large, stable trees and boulders) that we might rely upon these single features alone, but even these features could be rigged in a redundant fashion. 

Simplicity. A climber needs to appreciate that any anchor can quickly become convoluted and overly complex if it is rigged to solve phantom hazards or improb- able contingencies, or if it slavishly adheres to anchoring principles that are unachievable. For any given anchor, simplicity refers to the overall amount of time to construct and deconstruct an anchor. Simplicity refers to the overall amount of equipment needed, including rope, slings, carabiners, and any amount of padding or edge protection. All this should be minimized. Simplicity also refers to the number of knots being tied and untied, the number of steps needed to construct the anchor, and the distance the components are separated. All these should be minimized too.

When time, equipment, and number of steps are all minimized, and an anchor still demonstrates adequate strength and security, an anchor will have achieved the best end result our current knowledge and technology can offer. 

Gym to Crag

PC: Mo Beck climbing; photo by Will Saunders

It’s one of the hottest topics in climbing these days: how to make the transition from gym climbing to climbing outdoors, and in a way that is safe and responsible. A lot goes into climbing outdoors that you don’t have to think twice about in the gym! In our gym to crag series, we cover some of the key principles so that you can be more prepared, or so that you can educate your friends well as you mentor them outside!

Gym to Crag: New Questions to Consider

Our favorite part of this episode is that it was made a couple years ago, and Kai Lightner is a BABY. Oh how time flies…We also cover things like wearing a helmet, rock fall, the approach, uneven terrain when belaying, catching bigger falls, run-outs and more!

Gym to Crag: Stewardship and Environment

Climbing gets more complicated outside, but so does everything else—like eating, trash, and disposing of human waste. This video covers the outdoor ethics that all climbers need to know and practice to be responsible stewards of the crags we all love. Topics include staying on trail, packing out human waste and litter properly, leaving what you find, and more! Basically: wag bags are your new best friend.

Gym to Crag: Interacting with Others

Not going to lie, we know a lot of seasoned outdoor climbers who could brush up on these skills—especially making a respectful but efficient intervention when someone is climbing unsafely. In this installment of Gym to Crag, we cover the ways that risk and safety is amplified outside—and the best way to make sure those around you are respecting nature and each other as much as you do ;)

---

The Line — June 2023

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

Vitaliy Musiyenko following pitch six (5.11), one of the cruxes of Against the Grain on Charlotte Dome. Photo by Brian Prince.

THE BEST 5.11 IN THE HIGH SIERRA?

“Over the last couple of years, I’ve been working on a route which, in my honest opinion, has the potential to become known as one of the five best 5.11s in the High Sierra.” That’s the start of Vitaliy Musiyenko’s report for AAJ 2023 on Against the Grain, a new route up Charlotte Dome in California’s Kings Canyon National Park. Musiyenko, co-author of the new High Sierra Climbing guidebooks, and Brian Prince completed the 1,800-foot 5.11c route in late July of 2022.

“I had just developed COVID symptoms on the day we hiked into camp at Charlotte Lake,” Prince wrote in an email, recalling the first ascent. “The next day, when we climbed the route, I was really pretty wrecked. I think the only way I was able to keep climbing was that the route was so good. I put on a mask at the belays to try and protect Vitaliy, but he ended up testing positive a few days later anyway. It says a lot about Vitaliy that he didn't hate me for giving him COVID when he avoided it after working through the height of the pandemic in an emergency room.”

Against the Grain has about 1,800 feet of climbing on the southeast face of Charlotte Dome. The “Fifty Classics” South Face route ascends the corrugated face to the left. Photo by Vitaliy Musiyenko.

Prince added, “I just felt grateful that Vitaliy asked me to join him to climb the route after he put so much work into it. It felt like a kind of peak in our partnership because he would be moving out of California [to Utah] soon after.”

Against the Grain takes a direct line up the southeast face of Charlotte Dome, well to the right of the classic South Face route (Beckey-Jones-Rowell, 1970), and also to the right of Dance of Dragons, a route that Musiyenko established in 2017 with Jeremy Ross. Curious about the claim that the new route might be among the best 5.11s in the High Sierra, we asked Musiyenko and Prince—two of the Sierra’s most active first ascensionists—to fill out their top five. Perhaps unsurprisingly, they agreed on most of the climbs. Here’s their list in alphabetical order:

Against the Grain (Charlotte Dome) • Friends (Spring Lake Wall) • Positive Vibrations (The Hulk) • Tradewinds (The Hulk) • Valkyrie (Angel Wings)

Prince also mentioned Sky Pilot on Mt. Goode and Sword in the Stone on Mt. Chamberlin, but added that he hadn’t done the latter. He said the new route on Charlotte Dome might be the best of them all: “Not just the top five…. It is vertical face climbing on a backcountry granite dome for pitch after pitch. There's just nothing else like it.“

Do you have a favorite long 5.11 in the High Sierra that ought to be on this list? Name it in the comments below.

---

The south side of Cerro Iorana at sunset. Photo by Andrew Opila.

THE WILDS OF TIERRA DEL FUEGO

In a “Recon” article for AAJ 2020, geographer and exploratory climber Camilo Rada described the history and climbing possibilities in the remote Cordillera Darwin of Tierra del Fuego, at the southern tip of South America. Inspired in part by this article, Spanish climbers Eñaut Izagirre and Ibai Rico organized an expedition to the Cordillera Darwin in 2022 to attempt unclimbed peaks and study the snow and glacier dynamics in the range. With a base camp aboard the yacht Kotik, the seven-person expedition found great success, making the first ascents of the central summit of Monte Roncagli and Cerro Sara, as well as a new variation on Monte Francis. The team also collected snow samples from extremely remote sites and recovered thermometers and recording devices placed by Izagirre during a previous expedition in 2018. Among the early findings: The Roncagli (Alemania) Glacier has retreated at the alarming rate of more than a kilometer in just four years.

Izagirre and Rico’s article about the expedition will appear in AAJ 2023, which will be mailed to AAC members at the end of this summer. In the meantime, here’s a gallery of the team’s photos from the wild and beautiful Cordillera Darwin.

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

Photographer and climber Andrew Opila has produced a 30-minute film about the expedition, Into The Ice, which premiered in Bilbao, Spain, and was shown at the Wasatch Film Festival in April. More festival dates are pending. See the trailer here.

---

THE CUTTING EDGE IS BACK!

Season five of the AAJ’s Cutting Edge podcast kicks off with an interview featuring Jackson Marvell, the 27-year-old alpinist from Utah who just climbed his second new route up the mile-high east face of Mt. Dickey in Alaska. Listen here or wherever you get your podcasts.

The Cutting Edge · Jackson Marvell: New Route on Mt. Dickey in Alaska

---

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. Questions or suggestions? Email us: [email protected].

Snow Climbing

Know the Ropes: Fundamentals to Save Your Life

Originally Published in the 2014 Edition of Accidents in North American Climbing

Author: Dunham Gooding & Jason D. Martin // Photos: Erik Rieger.

“Slip on Snow.” The phrase seems innocuous enough. It certainly doesn’t sound like something that might lead to an injury or a fatality. But the reality of those three words in Accidents is quite different. If a slip or fall on snow appears in the heading of an abstract, it usually means that something terrible has happened. It might mean that someone has died.

In the last 10 years more than 300 snow travel accidents have been recorded in Accidents in North American Mountaineering. Many, but not all, of these accidents were precipitated by deficient equipment or skills, including “Improper Crampon Use” or “Failure to Self Arrest”; others by illness, exhaustion, or injury; and yet others were the result of objective hazards like avalanches, rockfall, or icefall. Many, but not all, of these accidents could have been avoided had the climbers developed a better understanding of the skills required to move over snow—a dynamic and dangerous setting.

Effective snow travel is a baseline skill that is often overlooked by beginners and advanced climbers alike. In many cases, climbing clubs and even some professional guide services do not spend adequate time teaching effective movement and fall avoidance on snow. This leaves all of these climbers—beginner to advanced—open to the possibility of making mistakes that result in injury to themselves or others.

In the following pages, we will discuss the baseline skills that every mountain traveler must master in order to move efficiently over snow, maximize safety, and minimize risk. For both ascending and descending snow slopes, there are two main techniques that we will address: using your feet and using your ice axe. Effective snow travel requires synchronization of both techniques, matching those techniques to the proper terrain, and ensuring the equipment matches as well. Finally, we’ll briefly discuss strategies for choosing the route, time of ascent, and when to belay or unrope on snow.

USING YOUR FEET

Good footwork is the first line of security against slips on snow. And good footwork requires mountaineering boots, with rigid or semi-rigid soles and ample lugs for traction. (Inadequate footwear is frequently a contributing factor in snow-travel incidents reported in Accidents.) In soft snow, without crampons, there are three recommended techniques. All three can be adapted for use with crampons when snow conditions require it.

Duck Walk

Lower-angle, soft to mildly hard spring and summer snow often allows one to travel effectively without crampons. In this terrain—often up to 35 degrees—the most effective technique is the “duck walk.”

Splay your toes out so that your feet make a V in the snow. As you move up the slope, feet splayed, kick the surface of the snow, using the inside edge of your boot to cut a platform. Move your weight onto the platform as soon as you have cut it, and then repeat the process with your other foot. If your little platform gives way under your weight, kick again and create subsequent steps with a more vigorous swing of your foot to cut deeper into the slope.

Step Kicking

As the angle increases, you will find it more comfortable to kick steps straight into the slope. Step kicking straight up the fall line is more strenuous than moving on a diagonal, but it is an effective way to increase your security. If the snow is consolidated but soft enough to kick good steps, you will have a good platform on which to stand. You will also be facing the slope, which is an excellent position from which to perform a quick self-arrest in the event of a slip.

Diagonal Ascent

If the snow is not soft enough to kick good steps, but is too steep for the duck walk, you may wish to make a diagonal ascent, switchbacking up the slope. The standard technique for moving up a steep slope at a diagonal is to employ a crossover step.

When moving up at a diagonal, there will always be a downhill foot (on the side of your body away from the slope) and an uphill foot (on the side closest to the slope). To move up the slope, cross your downhill foot above your uphill foot and then step up. Now bring the other foot around from behind to return to the uphill position. Once you’ve completed this crossover step, you should be in the same position from which you started. You’ll note that when you’re in the awkward crossed position you’re “out of balance.” When you’re in your original position, you’re “in balance.” If you’re using an ice axe to increase stability, it should be on the uphill side of your body and you should only move it when you’re in balance. Only stop to rest when in balance.

If you have trouble keeping track of which position is in balance and which is not, remember that the position that tends to make you face the slope is out of balance, and the one that tends to face you out slightly from the slope is in balance.

In order to change the direction of your ascent, bring your downhill foot up into an out-of-balance step, and then match that foot in a V position with your other foot, creating a duck stance. From there, make an in-balance step and kick a stance with the new uphill foot, pointing in the new direction. Note that the duck stance is always in balance, so it is possible to switch the ice axe from one hand to the other at any time while securely in that stance.

In harder snow you will have to shear each stance by cutting into the slope with a brisk forward swing of your foot, using a combination of the edge and the sole of your boot. In good conditions you should be able to cut your foot into the slope using a single movement. On hard snow you may need to kick several times to cut an appropriate stance.

Effective Crampon Use

In the past, a number of climbing clubs taught that crampon use was “required” for glacier travel. Thankfully this practice is far less common today, but there are still a lot of climbers out there who believe this to be true.

The reality is you should only wear crampons when the conditions require it. Crampons are dangerous. You can stab yourself with them or catch a point on a piece of clothing and trip. Crampons are required only when you walk or climb on firm snow or ice. It doesn’t matter whether you are on a glacier or not. If wearing crampons doesn’t increase your security, you should stow them until the conditions change.

It is common to start a climb early in the morning when snow slopes are thoroughly frozen. In a temperate climate, as the day unfolds, rising temperatures and direct sunlight on the snow can rapidly change frozen snow to soft snow or mush. Recognize when crampons are no longer needed and take them off.

When wet snow begins to ball up on the bottom of a crampon, the possibility of slipping and falling becomes very real. If the snow is soft enough, consider removing your crampons. In some cases a thin layer of wet snow on top of ice or hard snow makes crampons essential. For this reason mountaineers should always employ crampons equipped with anti-bot plates. These plastic inserts help keep snow from balling up between the crampon spikes.

The crampons you choose should be compatible with your boot and should be appropriate for the objective. If you elect to wear crampons with a toe bail or a heel bail/clipper, confirm that the rand/welts on the boot are appropriate for these crampons before you leave for the mountains. Try pulling down on the center bar and pulling the front points side to side. Does the crampon shift or lose contact with the boot, even if the sole is flexed? If the crampons do not fit securely, they must be adjusted or a different crampon/boot combination should be chosen. Never ignore a badly fitting crampon or just hope that it will improve.

Tripping is a significant hazard with crampons, often a result of the frontpoints snagging on clothing or gear. It’s not uncommon to see climbers wearing gaiters on the wrong feet, with the buckles on the inside of the legs—this provides a prominent place for a frontpoint to catch, causing a stumble. Be sure extra crampon straps are tucked away and that—if not wearing gaiters—the cuff of your pants has a low profile. (Many modern mountaineering pants have grommets to attach elastic cords that run under the boots, eliminating the need for bulky gaiters.)

Once you put on your crampons, you should continually focus on good technique, using thoughtful and controlled steps. Running down a slope, climbing while tired, or stepping out of balance are all good ways to either trip or stab yourself with a crampon point.

French Technique (Flat Foot)

French technique is the art of flexing the ankle so provide purchase for all of the crampon points on the bottom of your boot. Most modern crampons have 10 points on the bottom and two frontpoints on each toe. An individual employing proper French technique will engage all 10 of the bottom points to create a high level of security in the step. This is also referred to as the flat-foot technique or, in French, pieds à plat.

In hard snow or icy conditions the flat-foot technique may be used in combination with both the duck walk and a diagonal ascent. The techniques are the same as described without crampons, with one significant difference: You must flex your ankles sideways so that all of the crampon points bite into the surface.

American Technique (Hybrid or Pied Troisième)

As the slope angle increases (usually above 45°) it becomes difficult to maintain diagonal French technique without shifting the toe of your boots so radically downhill—in order to engage all of the crampons’ bottom teeth—that you end up walking up the slope backward. Moving this way is physically demanding and isn’t terribly secure.

Instead, shift one foot out of the French stance and engage the frontpoints in the snow. The other foot should remain flat-footed against the slope. This technique allows you to face the slope and move quickly, while saving the strength in your calves. As the calf in the frontpoint position tires, simply switch feet and allow the pumped calf to rest in a flat-footed French position while the rested foot and leg take over the frontpointing.

Austrian Technique (Frontpointing)

The third crampon method is the Austrian technique, or frontpointing. This technique is reserved for very steep angles—usually in excess of 70°—though some climbers prefer it on somewhat lower-angled terrain.

Frontpointing requires one to kick their crampons straight into the slope, and then to drop the heels approximately 10° below a level stance. Dropping the heels engages not only the frontpoints but the next two points on the crampon as well. The result is that a climber stands on four points, instead of just two, which increases the stability of the placements.

Frontpoint crampon technique tires the calf muscles, and because fatigue is a significant contributor to slips and falls on snow and ice, climbers should use the American technique rather than frontpointing whenever it’s reasonable.

USING AN ICE AXE

Many mountaineers tend to see the ice axe primarily as a tool for self-arrest. But an ice axe should be used primarily to increase security while climbing, in order to decrease the likelihood of a fall. Being able to execute a good self-arrest is important, but the first goal is always not to fall.

Ice Axe Choice

For mountaineering routes, a straight-shafted axe with a gently curved pick and no molded plastic grips or handles, roughly 60 to 70cm long (depending on the climber’s height), will provide the most versatility and security for snow travel, self-arrest techniques, and creating snow anchors.

However, many climbers opt for shorter technical tools for alpine routes and ice climbs, even those that may require serious snow travel en route or during the approach or descent. Some technical tools work better than others in such applications. Consider tools with lower-profile finger guards and grips, a generous spike, and a less radical curve to the shaft.

Leashes

In most mountaineering settings, there is no compelling reason to leash an ice axe to your wrist. The tool is always to be carried in the uphill hand, and using a leash requires the climber to switch the leash to the other hand every time he changes direction on a diagonal ascent. This takes time, decreases security, and takes focus off the task at hand. In most settings, the danger of dropping an ice axe is lower than the risk of destabilization during a transition.

However, using a leash makes sense in contexts where the likelihood of a drop increases. For example, when wearing mittens in extremely cold weather or on high-altitude climbs, a leash is imperative because of the lack of dexterity. (In some cases, it may be preferable to tether the axe directly to your harness, because switching a leash with bulky mittens and clothing can be nearly impossible.) When climbing steep ice, wearing some kind of leash or tether makes sense, because dropping an axe in such a setting could be catastrophic.

How To Hold the Axe: Cane Position vs. Self-Arrest Position

While climbing moderately steep snow, mountaineers have two primary choices of ice axe positions: carrying the axe in the cane position, with the pick forward, or carrying the axe in the self-arrest position, with the pick backward. It is not uncommon to hear climbers argue about which is better. But it’s clear which way is better: The cane position is better when you are actively climbing the mountain, and the self-arrest position is better when you are actively falling off the mountain.

All joking aside, the cane position (piolet canne) provides more stability and should be used in most cases while ascending, for two major reasons. First, it’s easier to firmly set the axe’s spike in the snow when you have the palm of your hand seated comfortably on the flat surface of the adze. Placing the spike effectively in hard snow with the axe in the self-arrest position will eventually bruise the palm of your hand on the narrow edge of the pick, causing you to be less aggressive with the axe. Second, as the angle of the slope increases, it is more natural to transition from the cane position into one of the dagger positions with the axe.

Obviously, one will be slightly slower to move into a self-arrest with an ice axe in the cane position. Some would argue that this compromises one’s safety. But the best way to address that compromise is to practice self-arrest from the cane position until it is second nature and can be employed as effectively as from the self-arrest position. Switch to the self-arrest position only when there is an obvious danger—like crossing a heavily crevassed area on a rope team or traversing a very steep slope—when the climber must be prepared to self-arrest.

Self-Belay Position (Piolet Manche)

The self-belay or “deep plunge” position is a secure technique for steep snow climbing. The axe is pushed down vertically into the snow as deeply as possible, while you continue to hold the head of the tool. The head of the axe becomes a handhold. (In French, manche means “handle” or “sleeve.” Imagine the shaft of the axe down in a sleeve of snow that will keep it in place, creating a good handle.)

There are two ways to hold the axe while employing this technique. In softer snow, when the majority of the shaft is buried, you can hold the head of the axe with both hands. This is very secure.

If the snow is too hard or icy for the axe to penetrate very far, it isn’t effective to have both hands on the head because in a slip you may simply lever the spike out. Instead, one hand can be placed on the head of the axe while the other grips the shaft at the point where it disappears into the snow. In the event of a slip, the hand on top of the axe should push forward, while counter pressure is applied to the hand that is lower on the shaft. In other words, you should be pushing in on the top and pulling out with the hand just above the spike. If pressures are applied correctly, the slip will be arrested by this technique before it becomes a fall.

Anchor Position (Piolet Ancre)

Occasionally a climber will need to make a quick placement with the pick of his axe in order to pull over a bulge or assist with a crevasse crossing. To do this, hold the axe in your dominant hand just above the spike and swing it over your head like you’re pounding in a nail. Right at the end of the swing, flick your wrist forward; this will allow the pick to bite more deeply. Once the pick is placed, you can use both the shaft and the head of the axe as handholds while you climb up over your obstacle.

Low, Middle and High Dagger Positions

On steep snow and ice, most commonly on terrain between 45° and 70°, one or more of the dagger positions may be useful. The climber holds the ice axe at the top of the shaft or on the head while seating the pick of the axe in the snow. Dagger positions work well in hard snow or on névé, but are less effective on hard ice, where the only way to create an effective pick placement is to swing the axe.

The first of these three techniques is the low dagger position, or piolet panne. In this position, place the palm of your hand on the top of the adze as you press the pick into the slope at waist level. This is a quick technique that doesn’t require any changes to the way you hold your ice axe, assuming you started out in the cane position, but it doesn’t feel as secure as some other techniques because the pick is so low. It will be most useful for downclimbing.

In the middle dagger position (piolet appui), place your hand on the shaft of the axe right below the head. This position allows you to push the pick into the slope more forcefully, making each stick feel more secure.

In the high dagger position (piolet poignard), hold the head of the axe, wrapping your fingers over the pick in front of the shaft while you wrap your thumb under the adze behind the shaft. To place the axe, reach high and stab the pick into the slope. A high dagger placement often provides better security on very steep slopes than the other two dagger positions.

Self-Arrest

Failure to self-arrest is a common contributor to the incidents found in these pages, and many climbers are almost obsessively fixated on their ice axe as a tool to arrest a fall. But many times a slope is too steep or the snow too hard or icy for an effective self-arrest. Think of an icy slope of 40° or more and you’ll get the picture: The falling climber starts sliding too quickly to control a slide.

When a fall takes place, a mistake has already been made. Therefore, as we’ve said before, although it is important to practice self-arrest it is perhaps more important to practice the art of not falling. Work on proper foot technique, practice using the ice axe as an aid to decrease the likelihood of a fall, and develop situational awareness by paying attention to your surroundings and managing risk on exposed terrain.

Your risk management strategy should take into account both the condition of the snow and the angle of the slope. In soft snow conditions, even on 40° terrain, a self-arrest may be effective. But in icy conditions, even on a lower-angled slope, a self-arrest may well be unsuccessful. If it doesn’t appear that a self-arrest will be feasible, you may have to alter your climbing strategy, including roping up and belaying or choosing an alternate line.

Depending on the circumstances, you may end up sliding down the slope after a slip in any number of different ways: feet-first on your back, head-first on your stomach, etc. It doesn’t matter how you fall, the goal is the same: Roll into a self-arrest position with the shaft of the axe across your body, place the pick in the snow, look away from the adze, then torque the spike up while lifting with your legs. This should bury the pick deep in the slope’s surface and bring you to a stop. It’s beyond the scope of this article to explain self-arrest in depth: Seek instruction and practice repeatedly. Find a low-consequence slope and take a variety of mock slips and falls in varying positions to get the hang of it. Building good instincts takes repetition.

Most climbers practice self-arrest with a standard alpine piolet. These ice axes were designed with self-arrest in mind and work well for it. Shorter, technical ice tools are not as easy to manipulate into the self-arrest position, and the picks may skitter off hard snow or ice. Those who climb with technical tools should practice self-arrest with such tools until it is second nature.

One great debate over the practice of self-arrest is whether the climber should kick his feet up during an arrest, in order to ensure he doesn’t get flipped over by his crampons, or whether he should bury his toes into the snow no matter the cost. Many climbing clubs still teach the former technique, whereas most guides now teach the latter.

In the event of a fall, the most important thing is to stop. Style points don’t matter. Indeed, even injury doesn’t matter. What matters is that you fight with everything that you have in order to arrest a fall.

DESCENDING ON SNOW

Many snow-climbing accidents occur while descending. Often this is because the climber is tired and not paying attention to the surroundings and the conditions under foot. It is important to stay alert on the way down, and to focus both on the slope below you as well as on your feet.

Plunge Step

The plunge step is an aggressive and direct way to descend a slope of soft snow. Think of it as reversed step kicking. To do it effectively, bend your knees slightly, spread your feet shoulder width apart, and step straight downhill, striking the slope with the heel of your boot. The heel will cut into the snow and create a platform for the rest of the boot.

In harder snow conditions, it is imperative that the heel aggressively hits the slope on every step and that the toe is pointed slightly upward. Try to plunge down and kick back to achieve the proper step. Often people who are not aggressive plunge-steppers may slip and then become more timid in their steps, which leads to more falls and more timidity. If you fall once, don’t back off—be more aggressive in your steps to ensure that your heel cuts deeply enough to create a secure step.

Most climbers will feel comfortable with the plunge step in soft conditions on slopes up to about 40°. In semi-hard conditions, aggressive plunge-stepping should be reserved for slopes that are 35° or under. If the conditions are too hard to plunge-step securely, descending with crampons is a better option.

Shuffle Step

If the terrain is steeper or more exposed, climbers may resort to the shuffle step to increase the security of their descent. This technique is not fast, but is very secure and can be done with crampons on or off, depending on the conditions.

Face perpendicular to the slope and step down with your downhill foot. Now move your uphill foot down into the step your downhill foot occupied a moment earlier. Your ice axe should be in your uphill hand in the cane or self-arrest position, with the spike planted firmly in the snow. Once your feet are next to one another, move the ice axe down, planting the spike once more.

Downclimb

Downclimbing steep slopes on frontpoints or with American (pied troisième) technique is often faster than setting up a rappel. Indeed, in conditions where it’s hard to build a good rappel anchor, downclimbing may even be safer.

Some climbers might feel comfortable downclimbing 60° snow, while others wouldn’t dream of it. If one member of a team is uncomfortable downclimbing a given slope, it may be better to belay him and then solo down. Alternately, you might consider setting up a rappel for the entire team.

Descending with Crampons

The biggest thing to remember when descending with crampons is that it is easy to trip over a gaiter, shoelace, or pant leg while walking or plunge-stepping downhill. For this reason, it is important to splay the toes of your crampons out a little bit on the descent and keep your two feet away from each other. Also, beware of snow balling up under the crampons. From an in-balance position, knock snow off the crampons by banging the sides of them with your ice axe or by kicking one crampon against the side of the other.

Glissading

Many mountaineers ascending lower-angled mountains look forward to the adventure of glissading down snow slopes after their climb. There are three types of glissade that a climber can employ: standing glissade, three-point glissade, and sitting glissade. But losing control of a glissade is a contributing factor to many accidents. Following four guidelines can help minimize the risk.

Never glissade with crampons on. People get injured every year because they wear crampons while glissading. If you’re wearing crampons, it’s probably icy, and if it’s icy you probably shouldn’t be glissading. Second, and perhaps more importantly, if you’re wearing crampons while glissading quickly, you could easily snag a spike on hard snow or ice, with the possibility of breaking an ankle or leg.

Never glissade while tied into a rope team. If you are roped up, it should be because there are hazards that require a measured and controlled approach. Sliding down the hill is the antithesis of measure and control.

Never glissade on a glacier. If you are on a “wet” glacier, then it is likely that you are roped up to manage the crevasse hazard. The preceding rule states that glissading while roped up is never advised. If you’re not roped up, glissading on a glacier opens the possibility of a crevasse fall, which almost always has severe consequences.

Always make sure you can see where you’re going. You should not glissade if there is any fog or rollovers to negotiate. Glissading off a cliff, into a moat, or onto talus is a terrible way to end your day.

SNOW CLIMBING STRATEGIES

There are many snow-climbing situations where climbers may choose to move together while roped to one another. The most common is to protect against a crevasse fall. But this technique also may be used to protect a team from a fall down snow or ice through the use of a running belay.

To rig a running belay, the leader places snow or ice protection and then clips the rope to it. As the second approaches, he can either clip the rope behind him as he passes the protection to safeguard the remaining climbers or—if on a two-person team—remove the protection. If an individual on the team falls, he may pull the others off, but the protection between the climbers will theoretically arrest the fall, limiting the damage of the incident.

In some settings, it might be more efficient and perhaps even safer for the climbers on a team to unrope and “solo” a slope. Imagine a slope that’s not steep enough to require belaying individual pitches, and that, in order to move quickly, you make a team decision not to employ a running belay. On steep or icy slopes where self-arrest is unlikely, the slip of a single climber roped to the rest of the group could result in the loss of the entire team. In such a situation, it might be safer for the individual climbers to unrope.

The decision to unrope should not be made lightly. First, you must consider the reasons that you employed a rope in the first place and determine if those risk factors are still valid. Second, you must feel confident in the ability of each member of your team to solo the slope safely. If you have any doubts about a team member’s skill, you should continue to use the rope and either employ running belays or stop and belay each climber up or down the slope.

Timing the Climb

Many accidents take place because of unstable snow. In a spring or summer context, this often includes the combination of wet slide avalanches, collapsing cornices, and weak snow bridges over crevasses. These dangers may be mitigated by an early morning ascent.

On glaciated peaks and on peaks with a lot of objective hazard, it’s not uncommon for spring and summer climbing teams to leave camp between midnight and 4 a.m. Teams should estimate how long it will take to climb the mountain and descend, and then plan a departure early enough to ensure they are off the snow before the sun dangerously warms the slopes.

During the colder months and in colder regions, parties often elect to climb during the day. The cooler temperatures provide a margin of safety that is similar to that experienced by night climbers in the spring and summer. However, it is not uncommon for temperatures to warm and for parties to have to adapt their schedules to the weather. Those who do not adapt to the conditions put themselves at risk.

Ideally, mountaineers will encounter firm, easily climbed snow during the ascent and softer snow—but not too wet or soft—for a rapid, easy descent. Timing a climb to find such conditions is a key aspect of the craft of mountaineering.

Making Good Choices

Effectively moving on snow involves a matrix of skills and decisions. An individual who has mastered such techniques will not be immune from appearing in these pages under the heading that reads “fall on snow,” but he or she will certainly be much less likely to have an accident.

Most importantly, a casual, “make it up as you move along” approach to snow travel is not safe. You will most successfully deal with each slope angle and each type of snow or ice under foot by applying a specific technique, and the techniques required can change repeatedly over a relatively short distance. When you have learned and practiced the complete repertoire of fundamental skills discussed here, you always will be making “best choices” for each step of your climbs.

---

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

Dunham Gooding founded the American Alpine Institute in 1975 and has taught courses and guided expeditions in the Cascades, Canada, Ecuador, Bolivia, and Patagonia. He has served as chairman of the National Summit Committee on Mountain Rescue, president of the American Mountain Guides Association (AMGA), and president of the Outdoor Industry Association. Jason D. Martin is the director of operations and a senior guide at the American Alpine Institute. He is on the board of directors of the AMGA and has written two guidebooks and co-authored Rock Climbing: The AMGA Single Pitch Manual.

Special thanks to Bryan Simon, who helped analyze snow-travel accidents reported in the past decade of Accidents editions.

Avalanches

Know the Ropes

Originally Published in Accidents in North American Climbing 2020

Written by Matt Schonwald

LAST JUNE I was guiding three people for a ski descent of the Coleman-Deming Route on Mt. Baker. Wind the previous day had exceeded 20 mph, loading fresh snow onto the Roman Wall, the 40° headwall before the summit plateau. I first guided this route in 1999 and knew this slope had seen multiple avalanche accidents, including the first recreational avalanche fatalities in Washington, when five people died in July 1939, entombed in the crevasses below the wall.

We skinned up from our 6,000-foot camp, with an icy wind blowing down from the summit. The new snow was soft and ankle deep, but the wind concerned us—would we have a serious avalanche issue with just eight inches of fresh [snow] in June? There was ample precedent: All of Mt. Baker’s climbing avalanche victims have been killed in May, June, or July. Three hours passed and we arrived at the Coleman-Deming Saddle, just above 9,000 feet. I could see several parties descending from the Roman Wall.

I approached a guide I knew to ask why they were heading down. “A party of three took a 300-foot ride,” he said. “They triggered a slab just below the top of the wall. Luckily, no injuries.” Clouds swirled around the wall and no one could see the full extent of the crown. As we turned to descend, someone asked if we could still go up, since the headwall already had slid, and I took a second to respond. Did they not see the snow was unstable? That the climbers who were caught were lucky they had walked away with their lives and no injuries? I realized there was a real lack of understanding among some mountaineers that summer storms can deposit new snow deep enough to avalanche—and that even a small slide can be deadly.

Chart of U.S. avalanche fatalities involving climbers, showing that these fatal accidents peak in May and June, with Washington and Alaska experiencing the most climber fatalities in the United States. Chart by CAIC, annotated by Matt Schonwald

A SERIOUS THREAT

Although a large majority of avalanche fatalities occur in the winter months, avalanches are not uncommon in the long days of late spring and early summer. According to a national database compiled by the Colorado Avalanche Information Center (CAIC), since 1951 in the United States, 39 out of 44 avalanche fatalities in June and 31 out of 43 in May have involved climbers.

Most backcountry skiers and winter mountaineers in avalanche-prone areas have some knowledge of the hazards and carry basic avalanche safety equipment, such as transceivers, probes, and shovels. Many seek formal training in avalanche avoidance and rescue. But preparation for avalanche hazards in the spring and summer mountaineering season is not as widespread or systematic. Most avalanche training is skewed toward winter travelers, and many avalanches that affect mountaineers occur in terrain not covered by avalanche forecasts or after avalanche centers have shut down for the season.

At the same time, the consequences of an avalanche are at least as great for mountaineers in spring and summer as they are during the winter months. As the winter snowpack melts back, additional hazards are exposed. Cliffs, narrow couloirs, exposed crevasses or boulder fields, and other terrain traps make an encounter with even a small avalanche potentially fatal.

Mountains big and small possess the potential to bury or injure you with the right combination of unstable snow, terrain, and a trigger—often someone in your party. It’s not only important to recognize these hazards but also to have the discipline to respect the problem and choose another route or wait till the risk decreases. In preparing to enter avalanche terrain, the mountaineer must be focused more on avoiding avalanches than on surviving one, and that is the focus of this article.

TRAINING AND EQUIPMENT

In North America, the sequence of avalanche education for recreationalists consists of a one-hour awareness class, a three-day Level 1 course for beginners, a one-day rescue course to improve the skills learned in Level 1, and a three-day Level 2 program for amateur trip leaders, such as those leading groups of friends on a hut trip or overnight climbs. Basic avalanche training helps develop understanding of the risks a particular route might present. A Level 2 course teaches trip planners to assess problems in unfamiliar mountains and in the absence of regular avalanche forecasts.

An avalanche rescue course teaches you how to locate and rescue climbers buried in a slide. Mountaineers must be prepared for the possibility of multiple burials, since avalanches in glaciated terrain and on popular routes have a high probability of catching more than one climber. You can find courses through avalanche.org in the United States and avalanche.ca in Canada.

Some mountaineers leave behind their avalanche safety equipment during the spring and summer season, assuming the relatively stable snowpack decreases avalanche hazard. But, as we will see, there are many reasons avalanches may occur during prime mountaineering season, and safety gear—shovel, probe, and avalanche transceiver—should be used if there is any risk of being caught and buried. (A shovel and probe have multiple other uses, including leveling tent platforms and probing for crevasses.) These should be individual gear items—sharing any of this equipment reduces your ability to be located quickly or to dig out your friend.

Again, given the dangers that even very small avalanches present to climbers, recognizing the hazards and planning to avoid them is the number one survival strategy.

This huge slab avalanche in July [2020] stripped the north face of Mt. Belanger in Jasper National Park, Canada, down to bare glacial ice. Photo by Grant Statham

AVALANCHE TYPES

Mountaineering avalanches typically happen in terrain steeper than 30°, above treeline (often on glaciers), and in areas subject to winter-like storms. In other words: the terrain that climbers love. In the spring and summer seasons, when mountaineering activity peaks, climbers may face exposure to:

• Significant storms leaving more than a foot of new snow on your route
• Strong winds( >15mph), transporting snow and building slabs on leeward slopes
• Strong UV (solar) radiation, increasing the risk of triggering wet loose and slab avalanches

Understanding the basic mountaineering avalanche types helps us recognize the hazards we face and our potential solutions to mitigate or avoid the problems.

Loose Snow Avalanches These slides, also known as sluffs, frequently occur as point releases (describing how they start from a singular point and then fan out and entrain surface snow, gaining mass and speed as they accelerate downhill). They can be dry or wet. “Dry Loose Avalanches” occur during or after cold winter storms with periods of rapid snowfall (greater than one inch an hour). “Wet Loose Avalanches” result from warming of the snow surface above freezing, loosening the bonds of the snow grains and creating instability; these may be triggered by falling rock or ice. Even tiny loose snow avalanches are dangerous to climbers—more so than skiers—because they can knock us off balance in very unforgiving terrain. Any avalanche is a serious threat.

During the spring and summer, the intense UV radiation from the sun makes wet loose avalanches fairly predictable, as the slopes that heat first will be southeast-facing and the hazard then moves around the mountain like a sundial. Avoiding these slides requires planning your outing so you’re not on a snow slope that you need to travel up or down, under, or across when the sun hits, whether during the climb or the descent. Watch out for soft surface snow that moves easily, and try to cross slopes near or at the top to avoid being swept by heavy, wet debris.

Late spring slab avalanche in Rocky Mountain National Park. Note the track on the left, which was made by a party of skiers one hour before this slide.

Slab Avalanches occur when cohesive snow rests on a weak layer. If that weak layer fails, the cohesive snow fractures and cracks propagate outward, forming distinct areas that may slide. Slabs are formed from storm snow, which can happen any time of year in high alpine terrain. Wind may build deep slabs on leeward slopes, and warm spring and summer weather can add water to them, making them denser and harder to trigger yet more dangerous when they fail. Spring or summer storms that drop more than one foot of snow, followed by a clear, sunny day, are particularly hazardous. The denser snow near the surface destabilizes the slab and makes it prone to triggering, naturally or artificially.

Wind slabs will form when strong (15+ mph) winds move loose snow into dense layers. Strong winds during storms can turn six to eight inches of new snow into one- to two-foot slabs on leeward slopes such as the Roman Wall on Mt. Baker in the Cascades or Tuckerman and Huntington ravines in New Hampshire, to name a few.

For avoiding slab avalanches, it’s critical to recognize red flags in the recent weather history and forecasts, as is placing camps in appropriate areas before or during storms. Climbers should wait 24 to 48 hours before attempting a route that has had more than a foot of new snow, on a leeward aspect, and/or with exposure to terrain traps.

Cornice Falls create risks for climbers moving along snow ridges or failing to notice a cornice when they arrive on a snowy summit. A cornice collapse also can trigger a slab avalanche on the slopes below. The only solution is to avoid climbing under them or approaching too close, especially during the heat of the day when temperatures are near freezing.

Icefall Avalanches result from a portion of a serac or ice cliff failing in a steep, unstable glacier (think: Khumbu Icefall), creating falling ice hazard. As with cornices, falling ice presents the threat of triggering deep slab avalanches that can run far down a mountainside, threatening camps placed too close to large faces. The random nature of icefalls makes predicting these events very difficult, so the only prevention is to minimize travel time through or under icefalls, especially during the daytime, and to avoid placing camps with exposure to collapsing ice. Learn to measure the “alpha angle” below a peak or face to estimate how far debris from a large avalanche may ow (a good resource is wildsnow.com/10011/alpha-angle-avalanche-safety).

Glide Avalanches occur after a long period of warming, when running water has lubricated the slope underneath the seasonal snowpack, causing it to move down-hill. This movement creates glide cracks, which run through the snowpack from the surface to the ground. Large and destructive glide avalanches may be the result. Glacier-polished slabs in the alpine are particularly susceptible to this problem, requiring route selection and trip planning to limit your exposure.

RECOGNIZING TERRAIN HAZARDS

Most of the “50 Classic Climbs” that are not rock climbs—along with countless other North American mountain routes—offer some seasonal avalanche hazard. In addition, the sheer vertical relief of many alpine objectives makes the possibility of a small avalanche a significant hazard. Many routes cross hanging snow fields with exposed or feature-ridden runouts. Very small loose wet avalanches can travel great distances, entraining loose snow and growing dramatically. You can travel on a valley glacier and still risk burial by these events, because faces over 3,000 feet can turn a small sluff into more than 10 feet of debris.

As you plan a climb or move up a route, look for route features that either make avalanches more likely or increase the hazard of a slide. These include:

*Convexity: Areas where the slope angle increases suddenly—these are places where the tension in the slope will be at its highest, making an avalanche more likely to be triggered
*Concavity: Areas where the slope angle decreases suddenly are also a zone of stress, due to an entire slope held up at this rapid transition from steep to flat
*Slopes with rock features poking through the surface, which can make triggering a storm slab more likely
*Seracs or cornices above a slope—these large, unstable features can injure you or trigger large avalanches
*Cliffs below steep ( greater than 30°) slopes, creating exposure to small avalanches pushing climbers over the edge
*Crevasses below a slope, increasing the chance of a deep burial and fatal outcome

Canada has developed a system to rate terrain based on the exposure to avalanches a party will experience while moving through an area. The Avalanche Terrain Exposure Scale (ATES) is used by Parks Canada, Avalanche Canada, the New Zealand national parks, the Pyrenees in Spain, and in guidebooks and maps published by Beacon Books in the United States.

On popular mountaineering routes across North America, from Mt. Hood to Mt. Washington, and from spring routes in Colorado and the Tetons to the classics of the Canadian Rockies, steepness, exposure to multiple avalanche paths, and sometimes glaciation put most routes in the “complex” ATES rating. Such routes generally share three characteristics making avalanche accidents more common:

*Ascents in features such as gullies, couloirs, or large faces where there is no safe way to avoid exposure to avalanches
*Approaches through terrain traps with unavoidable exposure to overhead avalanche terrain, such as creeks, cliffs, moraines, moats, and crevasses
*Descents via a different route where conditions ares ubstantially different

Recognizing and acknowledging that your route travels in “complex” terrain should prompt you to focus on identifying the areas of greatest exposure, as well as decision-making points along the route, where you can stop and evaluate the likelihood of avalanche activity.

PLANNING THE CLIMB

Planning a safe climb requires identifying areas of exposure on your chosen route and linking the prevailing conditions and forecast to an increase or decrease in the avalanche possibilities.

I use a process that starts with a weather and avalanche forecast (if available). I look at wind, precipitation, and freezing levels, as well as the recent past events from local weather stations. Then I evaluate which terrain is likely too exposed, given the current conditions, and look for routes or peaks where I can avoid unnecessary exposure. With this information, I draw up time plans for various options to get out and climb safely. Let’s go into some detail on these tools, and then I’ll give an example of the planning process below.

Avalanche Forecasts An avalanche forecast or bulletin gives you information regarding the avalanche hazard rating, avalanche problems, recent events such as observed avalanches on a specific slope, snowpack synopsis, and weather affecting the possibility of triggering an avalanche. The main difference between a forecast and a bulletin is the frequency they are issued—forecasts are daily, and bulletins are issued several times a week (at most). The forecast/bulletin will discuss the avalanche problems and show where they are located (distribution), size (how destructive), and likelihood of triggering (are you feeling lucky, punk?)

Most avalanche forecasts are issued from Thanksgiving through April, but most mountaineering avalanche accidents occur outside this period. The local avalanche center also may issue bulletins or seasonal recommendations giving general advice for the mountaineering season. More recent updates can be obtained from rangers, climbing guides, and the general climbing community in the area. Before a trip, visit local blogs (such as the Denali or Rainier rangers’ blogs), guides’ reports (such as the ACMG guides website mountainconditions.com), or community outlets such as regional forums and Facebook groups to get a general sense of conditions and perhaps even specific reports from your planned objective.

Weather Conditions When seasonal avalanche centers aren’t issuing forecasts, it’s up to climbers to use the nearest mountain weather forecast to help predict avalanche problems. Forecast sites I use include Noaa.gov, Windy.com, Mountain-Forecast.com, Meteoblue.com, and Spotwx.com; it’s worth learning to use several forecasting sites. The accuracy of mountain forecasts drops off dramatically after 24 to 48 hours, so it is a good idea to check the forecast daily at least a week before your trip to see the overall trend: stormy, warm, etc. Key data to look for when checking the forecast includes:

• Freezing Level This tells you where snow will start to accumulate and where avalanche problems will develop.
• PrecipitationTotals This often will come in inches of water (or millimeters outside the U.S.) for a 6-, 12- or 24-hour period. (A rule of thumb is that one inch of water equals one foot of snow in temperatures near or below freezing.) Precipitation intensity tells you how fast slopes will get loaded; a rate of one inch or 2.5 cm (25 mm) of snow per hour is considered high intensity.
• Wind The predominant wind direction tells you which slopes will get loaded—e.g., southwest winds will load northeast (leeward) slopes. Pay attention to sustained wind speeds over 15 mph and duration over two hours, which may enhance the formation of wind slabs.
• Remote Weather Station Telemetry You can access online data about the snowpack and recent snowfall from remote SNOTEL sites across North America. (Find links to SNOTEL locations at wcc.nrcs.usda.gov/snow/ or on local avalanche center websites.) You can look at a full season or just a few weeks of weather history.

In the spring and summer, the snowpack typically goes through multiple melt/ freeze cycles, potentially leading to avalanche problems. Early spring (March to mid-April in North America), when the snowpack is just beginning to warm up, is a very dangerous period, as old weak layers can be reactivated, leading to large, destructive avalanche cycles in alpine zones. Key red flags to research and observe include:

• Persistent weak layers, such as melt/freeze crusts, within the top three feet of the snowpack

• Early warm-ups when the winter snowpack has not adjusted to the extra heat input from longer days

• Temperatures above freezing for 24 hours in starting zones. If slopes don’t freeze, the chances of wet avalanches go up dramatically.

• Large rainstorms (greater than one inch of water in 24 hours)

Planning map created on CalTopo for the Disappointment Cleaver route on Mt. Rainier, showing hazard zones and safer rest stops.

Time plans help you figure out what time you need to leave camp in order to safely travel up and down your route and to avoid hazards that increase in likelihood as the day warms. Web-based planning tools such as Caltopo and Hillmap offer the ability to measure distance and vertical gain on your planned route. With this information, you can estimate how much time it will take to go up and back.

I use a method I learned from the NOLS Wilderness Guide, in which you plan an hour for every 1,000 feet of climbing, plus rest breaks. Other systems include the Naismith Rule and the Munter Formula, which takes into account terrain and travel method. The Guide Pace app will do the calculations for you. Whichever technique you learn, a time estimate will help you determine when to start the day, especially when there are definitive spots on the route you must reach by certain times.

PUTTING IT ALL TOGETHER

A good route to examine is the Disappointment Cleaver on Mt. Rainier, as it possesses an enormous volume of objective hazards as well as a history of avalanche accidents, including the deadliest climbing avalanche in Washington history, when 11 were swept away and killed in June 1981.

Before a planned climb in the third week of June, I watched weather forecasts and noticed that temperatures had been cooler than normal and it had rained in Seattle the first two weeks of the month. Low temps and rain at sea level would mean snow up high. I checked the weather stations and saw that several feet of new snow fell between June 8 and 12, with strong winds at Paradise (5,400 feet) and Camp Muir (10,000 feet). Along with the regular climbing challenges, I added wind slabs and loose wet avalanches to my risk assessment and planned to make snowpack observations a part of my travel plan.

The first day on the Disappointment Cleaver route, from the Paradise parking lot to Camp Muir, gains 4,600 feet over 4.5 miles. I estimated our travel time at 5 hours 15 minutes (4.5 hours of movement plus three 15-minute breaks). Our first break will be below Panorama Point, giving us a chance to evaluate slopes that frequently are loaded after new snowfall and wind.

Day two on the DC route gains 4,400 feet and another four miles or so to the summit. The time plan might seem like it should be close to day one’s plan, but roped glacier travel, crevasse hazards, and the higher altitude will slow us down, so our travel time might be closer to six to seven hours to the summit, then three to four hours back. Timing matters, because right out of camp we will travel under the upper headwall of the Cowlitz Glacier. The aspect is southeast, requiring us to consider our return time if there is enough fresh or soft snow to entrain large debris with wet loose activity. There are three more avalanche paths to cross along the route, exposing us six more times to slides (going up and down). We’ll try to reach the summit by 7 or 8 a.m., so we can be back down by 10:30 or 11 a.m., greatly reducing our chance of being under sun-baked slopes.

My map is marked with the route and rest points, along with known avalanche terrain, so I can plan where to stop and make snowpack and terrain observations. A crucial decision point is Ingraham Flats, where I can assess the Ingraham Glacier and Disappointment Cleaver before entering the last big avalanche exposure and the one with the most history. Many ghosts remain in the crevasses here.

ALTERNATIVE PLANS

An essential step in the planning process is considering alternatives. Make a list of possibilities on the same peak or in the same area to maximize your options as conditions come into focus in the last 24 to 72 hours before your climb. If the conditions don’t look good, it’s time to choose an alternative.

What often causes problems at this point is that big climbs are planned days, weeks, or even months in advance. Climbers may travel thousands of miles to climb a specific peak or route, only to find that conditions aren’t right, despite it being the traditional “ideal” climbing season. A warm winter followed by a cold wet spring can lead to lingering avalanche problems well into June and July. Large summer storms can drop several feet of snow in the high alpine. The mountain weather does not know how much preparation and sacrifice you have put into this trip—being humble means seeing the conditions for what they are and not what you wish them to be.

RED FLAGS ALONG THE ROUTE

Sometimes, even when the forecast and conditions reports are positive, red flags may appear immediately before a climb, during the approach, or at camp the night before:

Recent avalanche activity is Mother Nature’s number one sign of instability. Observe the aspect and elevation of slides (similar to your route?) and other characteristics (how big? what layer slid? what type of avalanche? human or natural trigger?).

Lack of overnight freeze to stabilize the snow

Rapid warming (temperatures fast approaching freezing); watch for rollerballs

Heavy rain on steep (>30°) slopes

Isothermal snow, i.e. crotch-deep wet snow, with no cohesion

Storm snow greater than 12 inches (30 cm) in 24 hours and/or precipitation intensity of greater than one inch per hour. Shooting cracks or whumping (rapid collapse of the snow under foot) are signs of unstable storm snow.

Wind speed over 15mph during a snowstorm, creating wind slabs. These will feel denser than the surrounding snow in the lee of large boulders or cliffs.

RESPECT THE PROCESS

If red flags are observed or develop while you’re on a climb, it’s time to consider an alternative route or a nearby peak with less avalanche exposure. Perhaps your schedule allows time to move to a drier part of the range. On expeditions, red flags may mean waiting or even abandoning your climb while other teams go up. Trusting the process requires not believing that other groups know something you don’t; many times these other parties are driven by various human factors often found in accidents.

Human factors that contribute to poor decision-making include the Dunning-Kruger Effect, in which people overestimate their knowledge and ability in the face of complex problems. We’re also prone to attributing “expert” status on people moving through an area we’re not sure about, in order to avoid the doubts we may feel. We may feel time pressure leading to overconfidence (“we’re here, so let’s just do it”).

Such cognitive biases impact your ability to identify risk and consequences. It’s the reason you may continue up a climb despite staring at multiple red flags. My personal trick to keep bias in check is to treat all climbs as predators that are hunting me. If I can’t be confident that I will avoid becoming their meal, I back away.

The most important avalanche safety tools are your judgment and your willingness to recognize red flags and accept that they are pointing to an avalanche problem. Be humble in the face of natural hazards and you will find that as one door closes another will open, whether it is another route, peak, activity, or epiphany. Being open to change will help you climb for a long time—which is the point, after all!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Based in Seattle, Matt Schonwald is founder of BC Adventure Guides. He is a certified ski mountaineering guide, a certified instructor with the American Avalanche Association, and a member of the Northwest Avalanche Center Forecast team.

Protection: The "Ins and Outs" of Sport and Trad Climbing Protection

By Ron Funderburke and Karsten Delap, AMGA Guides

Along with a rope, protection is the most essential part of the climbing system. A bolt and quickdraw, a cam or nut—these are the things that keep climbers from taking dangerous ledge falls or hitting the ground. While not the most common cause of incidents reported in Accidents, failures of a lead climber’s protection system occur frequently.

In 2012, for example, Accidents recorded data on 11 incidents where protection pulling out was the immediate cause of an accident. Placing no protection or inadequate protection were contributory causes for 27 accidents. Similar numbers were reported in 2013. So the lead climber’s protection system, or lack thereof, is clearly worthy of consideration as climbers strive to be more skilled, more prudent, and less accident-prone.

While many climbs present rock features that cannot be adequately protected, the vast majority of failures of the protection system do not happen on such routes. As accident statistics continue to demonstrate, an error in judgment, a misunderstanding of protection systems, or lack of technical prowess are more often to blame when the protection system fails in some way.

In this installment of Know the Ropes, we will present perspectives and concepts designed to consolidate best practices in the implementation, evaluation, and reliance upon a lead climb- er’s protection. We will cover the two main genres of rock climb- ing: sport climbing and traditional climbing. 

SPORT CLIMBING

While sport climbing is not the most easily categorized genre in climbing, we will rely on this definition: On sport climbs the entire protection system involves bolts and quickdraws; all bolts adequately protect the lead climber from ground or ledge falls (except in cases of human error); and the anchor components are fixed and permanent.

Sport climbing was created to optimize physical and athletic difficulty by de-emphasizing equipment challenges. Since the lead climber does not need to evaluate the rock, place his or her own gear, or make choices about the frequency and position of those placements, how is that accidents still occur? What kinds of protection-related best practices could reduce the number of sport climbing accidents?

Clip Quickdraws Correctly

When a leader climbs up to a quickdraw and connects the climbing rope, there are two main variables: (1) where the leader’s body is positioned on the climb relative to the quickdraw, and (2) how the climbing rope interacts with the carabiner being clipped.

The first variable is easy to imagine. If the lead climber falls before he/she can successfully clip a quickdraw, the fall length will be shorter if the quickdraw is at the leader’s waist or chest level. If the lead climber reaches overhead to clip the rope into a quickdraw, extra slack will be needed, thereby increasing the fall length if the leader fails to make the clip. Often, doing one more move to reach a good hold will make for an easier clip and less rope to pull up. If this is imprudent or impracticable, the lead climber should be hyper-vigilant and careful when clipping overhead.

If the leader finds he or she can’t reach a good clipping hold or must clip from an out-of-balance stance, two temporary measures may be useful:

(1) Use a “stiff draw,” in which a stick or other stiffener is taped to the quickdraw so it can be grasped low on the draw, giving the leader a few extra inches for clipping out-of-reach bolts.

(2) Clip a quickdraw to a distant bolt and then extend it with one or two additional draws clipped to the first. This allows the leader to clip the rope without pulling up additional slack. For redpoint attempts, a longer draw or sling can be left in place.

In both of these cases, the leader should place a normal quickdraw on the bolt and clip the rope to it as soon as he or she reaches a better stance.

The second important variable in clipping is found in the simple connection between a climber’s rope and a bolt. Common errors include backclipping, gate interference, and carabiner leverage. To avoid all of these errors it is important to remember a few critical concepts.

First, the lead climber’s rope should always travel along the plane of the rock, enter a carabiner from the rock side of the carabiner, and connect to the climber on his/her side of the carabiner’s plane. If the rope is “backclipped” [ see photos below] it can unclip itself from the carabiner when the rope runs over the gate during a leader fall.

Second, a quickdraw should be clipped to a bolt so that the carabiner gates are oriented away from potential interference from rock features like knobs or other protrusions.

Third, to mitigate the risks of a carabiner coming unclipped from either the bolt or the rope, it’s important to assemble your quickdraws so that both carabiner gates are oriented in same direction. The quickdraw always should be clipped to a bolt so that the gates of the carabiners are oriented in the opposite direction from the leader’s anticipated direction of travel. This helps to prevent the rope from rubbing over the gate or pressing against the carabiner’s gate in the event of a fall, potentially unclipping. This also helps prevent the lead climber’s motion and the corresponding rope action from levering the carabiner gate against the bolt hanger, possibly causing it to unclip [see photos below].

Here’s an example: If a climber is ascending a corner and all the bolts are on the left wall, which way should the gates on the quickdraws face? Answer: All the gates should face to the left, away from the climber.

Be cognizant of the different ways the lead climber’s rope and body movements can jostle and alter a carabiner’s position. In the case of a bolt, for example, a quick upward movement can cause a carabiner to load horizontally, backclip from the bolt, or be levered by the bolt hanger. Take a quick look at the draw after you move past it to make sure you didn’t move it into a dangerous position.

If a route causes unusual concern about quickdraws unclipping, assemble a quickdraw with one or two small locking carabiners. Some climbers like to use a quickdraw with locking carabiners on the first bolt of every sport climb—or the first bolt above a ledge.

Finally, even though most sport routes are intended to be climbed without supplemental protection, in some cases placing an additional piece can prevent dangerous run-outs—or simply ease the mind. Check the guidebook for gear recommendations—does it suggest a particular nut or cam? 

Use Reliable Bolts

Bolts can fail for a number of reasons. Maybe they were placed improperly, they could be past their useful life, the rock around them could be compromised, or they could be corroded. While it is tempting to regard bolts as “bomber” protection, all climbers should consider the blind faith they place in these critical links.

Since the developer of a given route is usually not on hand to ask directly, how should lead climbers evaluate a bolt’s integrity? There are three main clues: corrosion, the rigidity of the bolt stud, and the tightness of the hanger.

Many bolts were not designed to be used in an outdoor setting, and extensive visible corrosion should be an immediate warning for a lead climber. Bolts also may be corroded inside the rock with no visible damage. Corrosion is especially common in marine settings (like seaside cliffs), wet or humid venues, or bolts placed in consistent seeps or drainages; climbers should be particularly vigilant in these environments.

If the bolt stud moves up and down, pulls in or out, or if it has visibly damaged the surrounding rock, due to leverage, there is clearly a problem. A quick outward pull on the hanger will usually reveal these weaknesses.

Spinning hangers can be a sign that something is not quite right with the bolt. It is possible a hanger is spinning because the bolt stud has pulled out of the rock slightly. Or a hanger might be spinning because the nut that is supposed to be pinning it against the rock has loosened. In either case, a quick test of the bolt stud, with an outward and side-to-side pull, will suggest whether there is a real hazard. Nuts that have simply loosened from continuous use should be tightened; a slight turn of a wrench should do the trick—the nut should be snug but not over-tightened.

If you suspect a bad protection or anchor bolt, never rely on that bolt alone. Back it up, if possible, or downclimb to better protection before retreating. (Leave a carabiner/quickdraw on a good bolt and lower to the ground.) If you spot a bad bolt and don’t have the tools or expertise to fix it yourself, let the local community know with a note or online post. 

Avoid Worn Or Defective Carabiners

Through repeated use, carabiners eventually become worn and grooved. Deeper grooves create sharper edges, and particularly sharp edges can knife the sheath off a climbing rope or sever it altogether. Similarly, repeatedly clipping an aluminum carabiner to a steel bolt or cable can cause burrs, abrasions, and rough teeth on the carabiner’s otherwise smooth surface. Much like any serrated material, these burrs can seriously damage a climbing rope.

With the increasing popularity of pre-hung draws on sport climbing projects (this includes chain, cable, and nylon quickdraws), more ropes are being cut by carabiners that have been worn and have sharp edges. For example, in 2010, in the Red River Gorge, a leader clipped his rope into a quickdraw that had been left earlier on the first bolt of a difficult route. When the leader fell before the second bolt, his rope severed on the badly worn carabiner in the fixed draw and he hit the ground, suffering head injuries.While technology continues to make carabiners lighter, this can also cause them to wear faster.

Ideally, every carabiner in the protection system should be carefully inspected before use, though this is not always practical (especially when attempting onsights). Yet some climbers still blindly head up every route assuming the fixed gear is in good condition. While the send is important, it is not as important as making sure the equipment is in good shape. 

It is advisable for lead climbers to always hang their own quickdraw on the first bolt of a sport climb equipped with “perma-draws.” The angle between the first quickdraw and the belayer tends to sharpen the carabiner on a permanent quickdraw here much faster than the carabiners higher on the route. If the first bolt is left empty as a standard practice, much of the deep grooving caused by the rope can be avoided, or at least concentrated on the leader’s personal quickdraws. This also makes for easier stick-clipping.

Additionally, any fixed nylon quickdraws should be considered suspect unless you know their history. Damage from UV radiation can degrade nylon and cause the dogbone on a quickdraw to fail.

Burrs and grooves on carabiners are not only problematic with fixed draws but with your personal quickdraws as well. For example, bolts can cause abrasions in the carabiner’s aluminum frame that can shred a climbing rope. To reduce this risk, dedicate one carabiner on each draw to clipping the bolt and one to clipping the rope. 

Avoid Unnecessary Risks

Stick-clipping the first or even the second bolt of a route is a great way to prevent a ground fall. If the first bolt is 15 feet off the ground, the next bolt should be no more than 5 feet higher if it is going to protect a leader from ground fall, given rope stretch and displacement of the belayer as he or she catches the fall. But many sport routes do not adequately protect a leader from ground fall in the first 20 feet. If they haven’t stick-clipped, lead climbers then have to make a personal choice about whether to proceed. Too often, climbers rely entirely on their own ability to get them out of trouble. When a hold breaks or moves prove to be harder than predicted, it is too late to make an informed decision.

Sometimes, when the main difficulties of a sport climb have passed, lead climbers will confidently saunter into ground-fall or ledge-fall terrain, eschewing protection along the way. Skipping bolts and taking victory whippers are two common examples of unnecessary risks. 

TRADITIONAL CLIMBING

Every protection failure that can occur in sport climbing can also occur in traditional climbing. A climber should be just as concerned about faulty equipment, clipping hazards, fixed hardware, and making informed choices in a traditional environment as at a sport crag. Moreover, traditional climbing involves vastly more variables, decision-making, and risk management. Creating and managing the protection system in traditional climbing takes expertise, craft, and artistry. Sadly, failures of the protection system usually result from human error.

In this section, we will discuss some important factors in creating a reliable protection system. We will discuss the placement decisions that result from an understanding of rock quality. Lastly, we will discuss fixed gear and route selection.

Protecting The Pitch

Protecting the pitch is a term that is thrown around a lot, but what a climber is actually doing is creating an integrated protection system. For example, most climbers understand that the terrain before the first piece of protection has an unavoidable ground-fall consequence. From the first piece on upward, the lead climber is creating an integrated protection system that is supposed to mitigate the risk of ground fall, ledge impact, or other incidental impacts (hitting a slab, swinging into a corner, etc.). Unfortunately, lead climbers often climb into ground-fall terrain again before placing their second piece, or fail to protect sections altogether if the climbing feels fairly easy.

As in sport climbing, if you place a piece of gear 12 feet off the ground, your next piece must be no more than 4 feet above this to avoid a potential ground fall. (This is also true of any protruding terrain features like ledges.) Once you are well above the ground you can start to space gear farther apart, but it is prudent to always have a couple of pieces keeping you off the ground in case one fails. (If you find yourself with less than optimal protection, doubling up a placement is a good way to work some redundancy into the system.) In general, climbers should consider the consequences of going more than 10 feet between protection placements—falls of 20 feet or more may easily generate the kinds of forces that can seriously injure a climber, especially on less-than-vertical terrain.

Special consideration must be given to the first piece of gear. It should be able to hold an upward force as well as downward force to prevent zippering. Zippering is when multiple pieces of protection pull out as the rope impacts them in a fall— protection may zipper downward or upward. Depending on the angle between the belayer and the first piece, upward force may be generated when a fall happens and the first piece can be yanked up and out. In some cases, the subsequent pieces may fail in succession due to a similar angle in the rope. [See photos above.] In severe cases, it is possible that the only piece left would be the one that the climber fell onto, thereby reducing the entire protection system to a single piece of protection. Thankfully, most modern cams are designed for multidirectional pulls. They make excellent choices for the leader’s first piece. 

Placing Protection

It would be impossible in an article of this length to fully discuss the placement of removable protection. Suffice to say, all removable protection generally relies on the same principles. When protection fails, it is almost always because one or more of those principles was ignored, overlooked, or misinterpreted. Removable protection requires sound rock quality (discussed later), security and stability, optimal surface contact between the piece and the rock, and an orientation that anticipates the loads that will be applied to it. Trad climbing is full of delightful trickery, but efficient leaders recognize that square pegs pretty much go in square holes.

Orientation: Cams, nuts, tricams, and hexes should all be placed in ways that anticipate the loads that will be applied to them. Nuts should be placed in constrictions in the rock that point downward. Cam stems should point toward the fall line. Hexes and tricams should lever along the fall line. Make no mistake, a lead fall will load the top piece of a protection system along the fall line, so it should be placed accordingly. 

Security and Stability: Once a piece of protection is placed, a variety of forces interact with that placement. Some of those forces can alter the orientation and quality of the placement. The rope, drawing through a carabiner, can swing a placement back and forth. In the case of cams, this side-to-side action can cause cams to “walk” out of their optimal placement. If the swinging motion of the rope creates an outward pull on nuts, hexes, or tricams, they can be lifted out of their constrictions. Managing the path the rope follows is essential if cam and nut placements are to be secure. An appropriate length of extension (usually a long quickdraw or standard 24-inch or 48-inch nylon/dyneema sling) usually can mitigate this problem, because rope action tends to interact directly with the sling, instead of the placement. Another common tactic with nuts, hexes, and tricams is to give a light tug on the placement, thereby mashing the aluminum unit into the rock slightly. (Tugging too hard can make the unit difficult to remove, however.) Lastly, try to place cams in parallel features where you don’t anticipate they can walk.

Square Pegs in Square Holes: It is vital, in terms of efficiency and effectiveness, to place protection in the most obvious ways, in order to optimize the amount of surface contact between the unit and the rock, to make timely choices and placements, and to get the most potential holding power and security. For example, all trad leaders should think of placing a cam when they attempt to protect a parallel feature in the rock. They should think of placing a nut or hex when they see a constriction, and they should think of placing a tricam in oddly shaped pods, pockets, or flares. Cams should be placed within their camming range. Nuts and hexes should have surface contact on all sides of the unit. Tricams should be placed and set within their rotational range. Clearly, there are ways to make any trad piece work in almost any placement, given enough inventiveness. But, when trad leaders resort to putting square pegs in round holes, it should be for unique and demanding reasons, and there should be an understanding of the risks and time cost of these choices. Trad trickery can be an incredible waste of time—and dangerous—if it is indulged too whimsically. It should be needless to say that if gear is so tattered by use and abuse that one can no longer tell if the pegs are round or square, the gear should be retired. When cam slings become visibly damaged or decomposed, they should be replaced. (A professionally sewn replacement sling is an option.) Similarly, frayed trigger wires, nut cables, and hex cables should be replaced with appropriately strong cord or webbing. 

Fixed Gear

Many traditional climbs are replete with abandoned nuts and cams, pitons, and aid climbing gear such as copperheads. These can be efficient to clip, but there can be great hazard in using them as well. Leaders always should be suspicious of fixed gear. Some fixed protection can be visually inspected, but, as with bolts, the key components of fixed gear may be obscured or buried. Imagine the wire on a nut that has rusted completely through, a sling that is mostly cut, the axle of the cam that is broken, or a piton that has completely decomposed or destroyed the rock around it. It is wise to back up fixed gear whenever possible.

Pitons are a remnant of the past in most rock climbing venues but are still placed infrequently in the alpine arena. Pins should be considered no good unless they can be tested with a hammer, which most free climbers don’t carry. Pins can degrade behind the surface but still present a good-looking piece. Any corrosion on the pin can be an indication of corrosion deeper in the placement. Is the piton eye bent or cracked? Is there is any movement up and down? Does it wiggle side to side? Back up pins whenever possible. 

Managing The Rope Line

Unlike sport climbs, protection for traditional climbs may be placed along a wandering crack or other line of weakness, a traverse, a series of overhangs, or other variable features. As a result, keeping the rope running in a straight line is often an intricate challenge. A traditional lead climber should understand that excessive rope drag not only encumbers the leader’s movement, it also decreases the dynamic properties of the protection system, thereby increasing potential impact forces on the protection and the lead climber.

A simple assortment of quickdraws will not suffice. Instead, lead climbers must use a variety of tactics to keep the rope running as straight as possible: placing slings of various lengths; possibly climbing with more than one lead rope; and sometimes downclimbing to remove lower protection once a good piece is placed higher up.

A lead climber should also understand that every sling or extension comes with a consequence: If the distance between the protection point and the attachment of the rope increases, the fall distance increases too. Prudent leaders learn to extend only when necessary to straighten the rope line—and only as far as necessary. 

Rock Quality

Evaluating the rock is at least as important as knowing how to place gear in it. Often, lead climbers are simply trying to get up a pitch and don’t always use all of their senses. Take a look at the rock, first at the big picture and then narrowing to the micro setting. Is this a solid crack or a flake of rock sitting on top of another rock? Can you see debris, ice, or vegetation inside the rock? Look at everything.

Next, how does the rock sound? Using a larger cam or nut to bang around the rock can help determine if a rock is loose, hollow, or perfectly solid. (An open palm or door-knocking motion also works.) The rock provides valuable clues about the viability of a placement. Is it loose? Crumbly? Slimy? Icy or wet? Try to use as many senses as possible to create a complete portrait. 

When a leader must resort to placing gear in less than ideal rock, passive gear may create less prying forces on the rock than cams will; passive placements also may be more secure in flakes or jumbled boulders. Look around for other options. A solid placement off to the side of the route—with appropriate extension—may offer better protection than a placement in poor rock directly on the line. In softer rock (desert sandstone, for example), the leader should place pieces closer together to minimize fall forces. Double up on smaller pieces to decrease the odds of a catastrophic failure. 

Route Selection

When we head out to the crag we should pick routes within our climbing ability, risk tolerance, and technical ability. For example, take the Original Route on Whitesides Mountain, North Carolina, which is rated 5.11a or 5.9 A0. If you are a 5.12 climber but are uncomfortable with long runouts or multi-pitch climbing, this may not be a good route for you. Any of the pitches could be considered “R-rated,” and the first pitch, while only 5.7 slab, is mostly a free solo. However, if you are a solid 5.10 leader with extensive traditional climbing experience, and these pitches are within your risk tolerance, this can be a very manageable route.

To develop your skills as a leader, work up through styles and difficulties of routes to gain situational awareness. Reading topos and getting info from guidebooks and online resources also will help you pick an appropriate adventure and start the risk management process. 

PUTTING IT ALL TOGETHER

If there is a theme that unites all of the strategies in this article, it is simply that informed decision-making is a huge part of safer climbing. Before a lead climber makes any move, there should be an understanding of the stakes of that move. What happens if a hold breaks? Where is my next protection? Given my strength and skill, what is the likelihood that I will make this move without falling? Stress, fatigue, social and performance pressures, and blind faith all are distracting, and these circumstances inhibit sound decision-making in any sport. But in climbing the consequences can be especially severe. While risk in climbing is inevitable, understanding and following the practices we’ve addressed in this article will mitigate that risk and prevent many accidents.

---

About The Authors:

Ron Funderburke is an AMGA-certified Rock Guide and the Discipline Coordinator of the AMGA SPI (single-pitch instructor) program. He lives in Mills River, North Carolina, with his wife, Mary, and sons Burke and James.

Karsten Delap is an AMGA-certified Rock and Alpine Guide and co-owner of Fox Mountain Guides and Climbing School. He lives in Brevard, North Carolina, and guides rock and alpine routes throughout the United States. 

Lowering

By Mike Poborsky, UIAGM/IFMGA

Graphics By Rick Weber

This article was originally printed in the 2013 edition of Accidents in North American Climbing.

Lowering a climbing partner is among the most common situations leading to injuries and rescues reported in Accidents in North American Mountaineering, whether it’s lowering a climber after she tops out on a sport route or a partner in difficulty on a multi-pitch climb. In this year’s (2013) Know the Ropes section, we will look at common causes of accidents related to lowering, and provide some best practices for preventing them.

Why is it so important to have a good understanding of lowering skills and techniques? Think about how often we lower a climbing partner. We all do it frequently in single-pitch climbing, whether top-roping, gym climbing, or lowering the leader after he finishes a sport, ice, or traditional route. We tend to emphasize the belaying aspect of these activities, when in fact data shows there is substantial risk of an accident occurring during the lowering phase. Think about it in these terms: If all goes well during the climb, we don’t even use the safety systems in place. They are simply there “just in case” the climber falls. Once the lowering process starts, however, every component in the system engages and is critical to the safety of the climber. Then, of course, there are unlimited scenarios in multi-pitch climbing—whether rock, alpine, or ice—where lowering can be an effective tool to increase the speed of the party or to help a frightened or incapacitated partner.

Based on the incidents reported in Accidents over the past decade, the four most common causes of lowering accidents are: a rope that’s too short, miscommunication, an inadequate belay, and anchor failure. We’ll look at each of these issues and provide basic and advanced skills and techniques to address some of these common problems. Regardless of whether we are lowering from below or above, or are in single or multi-pitch terrain, many of the same skills and techniques are required.

Rope Too Short

More than half of all lowering accidents reported in Accidents in the past decade occurred when the rope end shot through a belay device and the climber fell uncontrollably. It is very easy to misjudge the length of your rope and/or the height of the anchor in vertical terrain. However, most of these unfortunate accidents could have been prevented simply by closing the system. This will make it impossible for the rope to unintentionally pass through the belay device.

FIGURE 1: The triple overhand knot is an excellent stopper knot for the end of a belay rope or rappel ropes.

In a typical single-pitch climbing scenario, where the pitch length is less than half the available rope, the ground closes the system by default, meaning your partner is going to make it back to the ground before the belayer gets to the end of the rope, so closing the system is unnecessary. The problem comes when the anchor is near or above the midpoint of the typical rope. This is increasingly common as new routes are established with anchors above 30 meters (half the typical modern rope length). For some climbs, a 70-meter rope is now mandatory to lower safely. Before trying an unfamiliar single-pitch route, read the guidebook carefully, ask nearby climbers, and/or research the climb online to be sure it doesn’t require a 70-meter rope to descend safely. When in doubt, bring a longer rope or trail a second rope.

Another scenario frequently leading to single-pitch lowering accidents is a climb where the difficulties begin after scrambling five or ten feet to a high starting ledge. The anchors at the top of such routes may be set in such a way that there is plenty of rope to lower the climber back to the ledge, but not all the way to the ground. Or the belayer may need to be positioned on the starting ledge in order to have enough rope to lower the climber safely. Again, do your homework, ask other climbers, and always watch the end of the rope as you’re lowering a partner.

If there is any doubt about the length of the rope being adequate to lower a climber safely, tie a bulky stopper knot in the free end so it cannot slip through the belay device. (The triple overhand knot is a good choice; see Figure 1.) Better yet, the belayer can tie into the free end, thus closing the system.

As you belay a lead climber on a long pitch, keep a close eye out for the middle mark so you’re aware of whether there is enough rope to lower the climber. Once the middle of the rope passes through your belay device, you and the climber need to be on high alert. Rope stretch may provide a little extra room for the climber to be safely lowered to the ground, but in such cases the system should always be closed as discussed above. When in doubt, the climber should call for another rope and rappel with two ropes.

As the climber lowers, it’s natural to keep an eye on her, but as the belayer you should also be watching the pile of free rope on the ground. Once there is less than 10 or 15 feet remaining, make a contingency plan for safely completing the lower. For example, will the climber have to stop on a ledge and downclimb? Will you need to move closer to the start of the route? Never let the last bit of rope slip through the device if the climber is still lowering, even if she is only a foot or two off the ground—the sudden release of tension can lead to a free fall and tumble.

When lowering in the multi-pitch environment, the belay system must be consciously closed by having the non-load end of the rope tied to the belayer, the anchor, or something else to prevent it from passing through the belay device. In a multi-pitch rappelling scenario we close the system by knotting the ends of the rappel ropes, making it impossible to rappel off the ends.

Miscommunication

The three key problems with communication between climber and belayer are 1) environmental, 2) unclear understanding of command language, and 3) unclear understanding of the intentions of the belayer and climber.

Environmental problems include the climber and belayer being unable to see each other because of the configuration of the route and/or the distance between the two; weather conditions such as wind, snow, or rain; and extraneous noises, such as a river, traffic, or other climbers shouting commands or chatting nearby.

In popular climbing areas with many parties on routes near each other, climbers sometimes mistake a command from a nearby party as coming from their partner. It’s always a good practice to use each other’s names with key commands: “Off belay, Fred!” or “Take, Jane!” When one climber is at the top of a single-pitch climb and rigging the anchor for a lower-off, top-rope, or rappel, it can sometimes be helpful for the belayer to step back temporarily so he can see his partner at the anchor and improve communication. When the climber is ready to lower, the belayer can move back to the base of the climb to be ideally positioned for the lower.

Especially with a new or unfamiliar partner, it’s essential to agree on the terms you’ll be using to communicate when one climber reaches the anchor. What do you mean by “take” or “off” or “got me?” Avoid vague language like “I’m good” or “OK.” Agree on simple, clear terms and use them consistently. One common misunderstanding seems to be the result of the similar sounds of “slack” and “take.” When top-roping, consider using the traditional term “up rope” instead of “take” for more tension in the rope, as the former won’t be confused with “slack.”

Before starting up any single-pitch climb, it’s critical that belayer and climber each understand what the other person will do when the climber reaches the anchor: Will the climber lower off, and if so what language will she use to communicate with the belayer? Or, will she clip directly to the anchor, go off belay, and rappel down the route? Many accidents have resulted when the belayer assumed the climber was going to rappel instead of lower, or the belayer forgot that the climber planned to lower, or he misunderstood a command (“off” or “safe” or “I’m in direct”) as an intention to rappel. Before taking the climber off belay, the belayer must be certain that this is the climber’s intention. If you have agreed that the climber will rappel, wait for the climber to yell “off belay,” and then respond “belay off,” and only then remove the rope from your device.

When you reach the anchor at the top of a climb, don’t just clip in, shout “take,” and lean back. Make sure to hear a response from the belayer indicating that he has you on belay and is ready to lower. If you can’t see the belayer, sometimes it is possible to extend your anchor connection or lower yourself a little, holding onto the “up” rope, until you can get into position to make visual contact with the belayer and assure you’re still on belay.

A consideration when lowering someone from above is that the belayer and climber become farther apart during the lowering process, and this may compromise communication. To mitigate this potential problem, I like to position myself where I can see, and hopefully hear, the climber being lowered from start to finish. In some terrain this requires extending the anchor’s master point.

Belay System Errors

A common cause of lowering accidents is belayer errors, especially when the belayer is inexperienced, inattentive, or unfamiliar with the operation of a particular type of device. Make sure your belayer—or any belayer you observe— knows what he’s doing and pays attention until his climber is safely back on the ground or at an anchor. Don’t accept or ignore shoddy belaying!

On single-pitch routes, two things that may cause problems are belayers positioned too far back from the base of the climb—and thus getting pulled off balance and possibly losing control when the climber weights the rope—as well as using an unfamiliar device. Switching between tube-style devices, such as an ATC, and assisted-braking devices like the Grigri can cause inexperienced belayers to mishandle the device. Beware of loaning your device to a belayer unless you are confident that he is well-trained in its use.

What is the appropriate lowering brake for lowering your partner? It’s one that provides adequate friction to control their descent over very specific terrain. In some alpine terrain situations, the redirected hip belay may be totally sufficient for a short, moderate-angle step with high friction. Conversely, lowering directly off an equalized multi-point anchor with a backup may be required in steeper terrain (see Figure 2).

FIGURE 2: Lowering a partner from above with a redirect and backup. A) Belay/ rappel device with locking carabiner clipped to master point. B) Redirect through carabiner clipped to anchor. C) Prusik knot clipped to belay loop as backup—useful for heavier partners or wet or icy ropes.

FIGURE 3: Increasing friction for a lower with a thin-diameter or wet or icy rope, using a Munter hitch on a locking carabiner clipped to the anchor above the belay/rappel device.

In some cases, the most important belay issue may be anchoring the belayer against a violent upward pull in the event of a leader fall or a falling or lowering top-rope climber who is much heavier. In this situation I like to be tied directly into the climbing rope and use a clove hitch to attach myself to a bottom anchor. This way the length is adjustable so I can be exactly where I want with no slack in the system, and the rope provides shock adsorption if the system becomes loaded.

Most people tend to underestimate how much friction is needed to lower their partner in a safe and controlled manner. How do we gain the experience required to be safe? Through time and practice in varied terrain. Be conservative at first and anchor the belayer, increase friction, use a backup—or all three—until the belayer has confidence in judging how much friction is needed. It’s easy to back up a new climber’s belay by holding the brake strand a couple of feet beyond the belayer and feeding the necessary slack. This allows you to closely monitor the belay and provide additional braking if the climber starts going too fast or the belayer starts losing control.

Do you have experience lowering with wet or icy ropes? Do you have experience lowering with modern small-diameter ropes? If not, then I would recommend increasing friction when lowering someone from above (see Figure 3), as well as backing up the lower with a prusik, until you gain adequate experience. Bottom line: If the consequence of losing control of the brake strand is bad, add friction and back it up.

Prior to committing to any lower, consider some “what ifs.” For example, what if something happens when I’m lowering my partner and I need to be mobile? How easy is it for me to escape the system? What if I need to transfer this lower to a raise? Does this system allow me to make this transition easily?

Anchoring Issues

There is much to consider when constructing an anchor, but the bottom line is that it absolutely must not fail, period. (The Know the Ropes article in the 2012 Accidents is a great reference on constructing anchors.) What are some of my concerns when choosing a possible anchor? 1) Will I be using this anchor for climbing and lowering or rappelling? 2) With the resources available, can I construct an adequate anchor in a given spot? 3) How will the rope run once lowering starts? 4) Will the belayer and climber being lowered have visual and/ or audio communication for the duration of the lower?

I have long used the ERNEST acronym as guidance when constructing an anchor. E = Are all pieces in the anchor equalized and sharing the load? R= Is there redundancy in the anchor, meaning that if one piece fails other pieces will take the load? NE= If one piece does fail and the other pieces take the load, will this be done with no extension or shock loading of the remaining anchor? S= Is the anchor material (tree, rock, ice) and/or protection solid and strong? T= Can this anchor be constructed in a timely manner? Just remember, ERNEST should be used as guidance, not a checklist—adjust as necessary. Once an anchor has been established, we must decide how to connect the rope to the anchor.

Sometimes a route may be too overhanging or traverse too much to clean by rappel. In such cases, it may be necessary to clip into the belay rope while lowering (a.k.a. “tram in”) to stay close to the wall and remove each piece. Be sure to communicate each step clearly with your belayer, and never unclip from the belay rope when you are away from the wall (as shown here), because you will plunge straight downward when the tension is released, possibly hitting the ground. Instead, only unclip from the belay rope when you’re clipped into a bolt or the belay rope is taut against the cliff face. Make sure to do this in a place where you won’t hit a tree or the ground when you swing off. PC: Andrew Burr

All top-roping should always be done through the climber’s removable gear, such as carabiners attached to quickdraws, runners, or a cordelette, and not through the fixed hardware of an existing anchor system. The fixed anchors should only be used for rappelling, where the ropes will be pulled without load. A dirty rope running through the anchor system under load causes unnecessary wear at fixed anchors. In fact, at some sandstone climbing destinations where sand easily works into the weave of the rope, locals are reporting 50 percent wear of steel quick- links in a couple of climbing seasons. So whether you are top-roping or topping out on a sport climb, be responsible and climb or lower on your own removable gear. Whenever possible, the last person to climb should rappel rather than lower off once he is finished with the route.

Before leading a sport climb, decide what extra gear will be needed for the anchor. To set up for lowering and top-roping, I like to carry two quickdraws designated for the anchor, one of them equipped with two locking carabiners. Before following a sport climb, decide what extra gear will be necessary to clean the top anchor. I girth-hitch two 24-inch nylon slings to my harness and add two locking carabiners. When I get to the anchor, I clip a locking carabiner to each rappel ring. Now I can thread the rope through the fixed anchor and rappel. There are a variety of techniques for accomplishing this. Regardless of the one you learn, I recommend practicing while on the ground and using the same system every time you clean the anchor.

One subtle but very important difference between rappelling and lowering is that in rappelling the rappel device is moving over a stationary rope, because the person rappelling is simply sliding down the rope. In lowering, the rope is the object in motion and is moving through a stationary belay device. This means the rope is moving over terrain that may have loose rock and/or sharp edges. In general a taut rope over a sharp edge is not a good idea, and one that is moving over sharp edges is just asking for trouble. Before lowering, take extra care to position the rope so it avoids any edges or loose blocks. And, finally, never lower with the rope running directly through an anchor sling—the hot friction of nylon on nylon will quickly melt through the sling, with disastrous consequences.

Be Prepared!

As climbers we all need to take ownership in the ability to problem-solve and be self-sufficient at the crag and in the mountains. This starts by critically thinking about what gear we carry on a given objective. For example, I choose to use an assisted-braking device (such as the Petzl Grigri) for top-roping, sport routes, and gym climbing because of the added security and comfort for holding and lowering a climber. In the mountains and on traditionally protected climbs I use an auto-blocking device (such as the Black Diamond ATC Guide or Petzl Reverso) because it is lighter, much more multifunctional, and it allows the rope to slip a bit when catching a fall, helping to reduce impact forces. Another example: I use accessory cord to tie my chalk bag around my waist, so I always have a cord I can easily convert into a prusik if I need to back up a lower or rappel.

In addition to my harness, protection, quickdraws, and shoulder-length slings, here’s what I typically carry on most multi-pitch climbs, giving me the tools to deal with most situations that might arise:

• Small knife or multi-tool

• Auto-blocking belay/rappel device with 2 locking carabiners

• 2–3 extra locking carabiners

• 5–7mm* cord to tie on chalk bag, doubling as a prusik cord

• 5–7mm*, 18-foot cordelette with a non-locking carabiner

• Two 48” slings, each with a non-locking carabiner

• 1 extra 5–7mm*, 18-foot cordelette with rappel rings (for multi-pitch

  alpine routes)

• 24” nylon sling for racking gear

  * As a general rule, a cord or cordelette needs to be 2–3mm smaller than the climbing rope in order to provide adequate friction for a prusik.

FIGURE 4: When using an auto-blocking belay device in guide mode to belay a second climber, it may be necessary to “release” the locked device when it’s under load, in order to lower the second so he can reach a ledge or retry a move. Thread a thin sling through the small hole opposite the clip-in hole on the device, redirect it through the anchor, and clip it to your harness so you can use body weight to release the device. For additional control of the lower, always redirect the brake strand through the anchor. As a back-up, tie a friction hitch onto the brake strand and clip it to your harness. PC: Sterling Snyder

FIGURE 5: The Munter hitch can be used instead of a device to belay or lower a climber. It’s preferable to orient the hitch with the load strand on the gate side of the carabiner.

Since we are somewhat limited in the amount of gear we carry on a given objective, it makes sense to maximize our understanding of the gear we typically use. One of the most utilitarian pieces of modern equipment is a belay/rappel device with an auto-blocking option, like the BD ATC Guide, Petzl Reverso, or similar. This single piece of equipment has a variety of uses, including the following:

• Standard belay from harness

• Auto-blocking belay from an anchor (see Figure 4)

• Lower from anchor with increasing friction (see Figure 3)

• Lower from anchor with a backup (see Figure 2)

• Simple 3:1 hauling system

• Ascending

• Rappelling

  What if you drop your belay/rappel device? A key technique to know is how to tie a Munter hitch and use it to belay, rappel, or lower from a locking carabiner clipped to an equalized anchor (see Figure 5). When possible the Munter hitch should be tied so the load strand of the rope is on the gate side of the carabiner and the brake strand is on the spine side.

  All of these skills and techniques should be practiced and perfected at your house, in the climbing gym, or at the local crag, in a setting that has minimal consequences if you get it wrong. And please take the time to read the instruction manuals that come with your equipment. They are packed with invaluable information and tips.

  Through time, practice, observation, and reflection we start developing the necessary skills to be a truly competent partner, with the skills to use an alternative system when we, or our partner, can no longer climb, belay, lower, or rappel due to circumstances. I know for certain that we cannot possibly plan for everything that might happen in the mountains, but we all have a responsibility to our partner and the entire climbing community to be as prepared as possible when unexpected situations do arise.

  About the Author

  Mike Poborsky is an internationally certified rock, alpine, and ski guide, and is vice president of Exum Mountain Guides, based in Jackson, Wyoming.