The Prescription—September

We are entering the prime season for climbing on the East Coast, so this month we’re featuring an incident that took place on Moss Cliff in upstate New York. Don Mellor, climbing guide and author of American Rock and Climbing in the Adirondacks, calls Moss Cliff “among the most appealing rock walls in the Northeast." Such an attractive crag has its inevitable share of mishaps. The following report appears in the 2023 edition of Accidents in North American Climbing, which is being mailed to AAC members this month, and has been expanded here with more information from the ranger involved in the rescue.

Guidebook author Don Mellor calls Moss Cliff “…the most Adirondack of all Adirondack crags.” Hard Times (5.9+) is drawn in red. The stranded climbers were stuck at the pitch-two belay. Photo by Jim Lawyer.

STRANDED | Stuck Rappel Ropes

Adirondacks, Moss Cliff

At 6:30 p.m. on October 16, 2022, the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation (DEC) rangers received a call from two climbers who were stranded on Moss Cliff in Wilmington Notch within Adirondack State Park. Moss Cliff is a 400-plus-foot face with a 30-minute approach that involves fording a small river.

The two climbers had topped out on a four-pitch trad climb called Hard Times (5.9+) and had completed their first double-rope rappel from the bolted rappel station at the top of the final pitch. When the climbers went to pull their ropes after the first rappel, the rope would not budge. After repeated attempts to pull the ropes down, the climbers considered themselves to be stranded and used a cell phone to contact rangers.

DEC ranger Robbi Mecus was able to talk to the subjects via cell phone and instruct them. She determined that the subjects still had both ends of the rope, and that it would be possible for one of them to use prusiks to climb the ropes back to the anchor. However, the climbers did not have prusik loops and were unfamiliar with techniques for ascending a rope. Mecus was able to coach the climbers by phone on how to use their sewn slings as prusiks. She then instructed them to create two prusik loops: one short one attached to the harness and one long one as a foot loop. She also instructed them to tie in to the ropes directly every few feet as a backup should the prusik attached at the waist fail. The climbers completed one round of practice with Mecus on the phone, and then one of them prusiked to the top of the climb to free the rope from the crack in which it had been stuck.  

Mecus instructed the subjects to pull the knot joining their two ropes down past the obstruction and place a nut in the crack to prevent another stuck rope. They were able to retrieve their ropes and finish their descent. She stayed on the phone with the subjects while she herself approached the cliff to ensure the subjects were following her directions. The subjects had left their headlamps in their packs at the base of the cliff, not expecting to be caught in the dark. This oversight exacerbated the situation. Mecus then assisted the subjects across the west branch of the Ausable River and back to the trailhead.

ANALYSIS

More people are learning to climb in the gym or on sport routes. Thus, they can become stronger climbers much faster than in the past, without learning the foundational skills associated with outdoor traditional climbing. These climbers were very capable, successfully climbing a four-pitch 5.9+ trad route, but were not familiar with the relatively basic rope ascension techniques they needed to ascend and free the rope.  

Investing in self-rescue skills is an important part of transitioning from gym to crag. These can be learned through mentorship (informally or with a guide), through self-rescue courses, or even by reading a book or watching YouTube videos on self-rescue. A few minutes invested in learning and practicing how to ascend a rope with prusiks would have prevented the need for the rangers to be called. The climbers were right to have brought a cell phone and used it to call for help. Had they been unable to receive help by phone, the climbers’ situation would have turned significantly more dire, as they would have been stuck several hundred feet up the face for the night or longer.

As this incident demonstrates, you never know when you may be unexpectedly delayed. The climbers in this incident did not have headlamps and were unprepared to be out after dark. As a general precaution, always bring a headlamp when multi-pitch climbing. Stashing a small headlamp in the bottom of a chalk bag is a great way to ensure you always have one with you.  

(Sources: New York State Department of Environmental Conservation Forest Rangers and the Editors.)

FaceTime and SARTopo

Mecus used FaceTime to communicate with the climbers and visually demonstrate techniques, as she has on other rescues. She recalls one such incident: “A hiking party with an injured individual (dislocated finger) was asking for a ranger to hike out to them. I was able to look at the injury (via FaceTime) and with a good interview determined it was dislocated. I instructed them how to reduce the dislocation, sling and swath the arm, and walk themselves out. Pretty simple.”

Mecus uses other technologies to help people get themselves out of trouble in the mountains and woods—technologies that help conserve precious ranger resources. She says, “With better cell phone coverage comes the ability to send a lost person a link to a SARTopo application. This allows us to see them on a map as they move.” SARTopo, a version of CalTopo, is a widely used, collaborative online and offline mapping tool; the program name SARTopo is being phased out in favor of CalTopo.

For background on SARTopo (CalTopo), click here.

SARTopo is a web-based version of CalTopo with SAR-specific enhancements, including a variety of map layers and overlays. 

For a consumer overview of SARTopo (CalTopo) and a how-to tutorial, click here.

DEC ranger Robbi Mecus says, “Improved cell coverage obviously has impacts on our ability to talk to stranded or injured climbers.”

While cell service has improved in recent years deep in the Adirondacks, you can’t count on a phone in remote areas and should still carry an inReach or other satellite-based communication device. Nonetheless, Mecus says, “Within the past seven or eight years, certain spots on Wallface, our tallest and most remote wilderness cliff, can hit a cell tower. Wallface is six miles from the nearest trailhead and 800 feet tall. A few years ago, we had a seriously injured climber hanging on pitch two of an eight-pitch 5.8 after taking a 60-foot fall. Their friend on the ground was able to find cell service and call dispatch. We were able to insert myself and a volunteer climber via helicopter at the base, climb up to the party, package and lower the subject to the ground, and perform a helicopter hoist extraction. The climber was in the hospital within five hours of his accident. Without the improved cell coverage, he would’ve been hanging suspended on the cliff all night. I'm not sure he could've survived his injuries.”

Read the ANAC report from the Wallace incident here.


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Eleanor Davis, Humble Mountaineer

Eleanor Davis (sitting) and Eleanor Bartlett atop Sentinel Peak (part of Pikes Peak). Photo courtesy of the Bartlett Collection, AAC Library.

The First Female Ascent of the Grand Teton, and What It Means to Discover a Ghost in the Archives

By Hannah Provost

More than teaching me something revolutionary about climbing history, the archives that hide Eleanor Davis taught me about myself. 

Without knowing it, I went into this project wanting a particular story to unfold. I wanted Eleanor Davis, an objectively important woman to climbing history, to reveal her secrets, and for those secrets to justify the philosophical importance of climbing. I wanted to hear an echo of myself from a century ago—to confirm that there is some deeply meaningful reason to climb—and to hear it from a woman, a legacy I could make meaningful and specific to me. But not all climbing conversations are revolutionary. Similar to the mundane spray of beta and grade debate that we often come across today, Eleanor Davis recollections focused on memorable moments of snarkiness, on minor crises, on the character of her climbing partners—not a revolutionary narrative of what climbing means. 

Instead, they are simply memories of a personal relationship to climbing and the mountains. 

Eleanor Davis is largely a ghost in the archives. But we do know a few key things. August 27th, 2023, was the centennial of her ascent of the Grand Teton, the first female ascent of this iconic mountain. Davis was also the second half of the ascent team for the FA of the 50 Classic Climb Ellingwood Ledges—though you wouldn’t know it by the name. Other than these two proud ascents, and seemingly only one photo of her atop a summit sitting beside Albert Ellingwood, her story is largely unwritten and undocumented. As the centennial approached, and I heard about upcoming celebrations of this historic moment, I wanted to contribute to changing that. I wanted to uncover her story—and have it transform our understanding of female mountaineering, of course. 

From left to right: Albert Ellingwood, Barton Hoag, and Eleanor Davis on the summit of Pyramid Peak,1919, Courtesy of Hoag Family, Bueler Collection, AAC Library.

Through the American Alpine Club’s Library, I got access to two interviews with Eleanor Davis that rarely see the light of day. Researcher Jan Robertson had conducted a series of interviews with important female mountaineers for her book project, The Magnificent Mountain Women. When Robertson interviewed Eleanor, she was 99, and would live for 8 more years. I combined this interview with an oral history with Eleanor Davis, taken in 1983 for History Colorado. Though the audio for the interview was incomprehensible, the notes taken of the interview were very illuminating. 

The Dulfersitz method of rappelling. Photo Courtesy of the CMC Collection.

Weaving in and out of threads of conversation, the audio of the interview from 1985 is cluttered with historic nuggets. Davis was one of Albert Ellingwood’s main climbing partners for years, and her casual references to him belie the massive impact his climbing would have. Ellingwood is credited for being the first person to substantially utilize rope systems and other “proper rock climbing technique” in Colorado, and many times, Davis was in the rope party or repeated the difficult new routes that Ellingwood was putting up. Davis meandered through details of biking to the mountains when there was gas-rations during the Depression, and recounted that when Ellingwood first taught them how to rappel with the Dulfersitz method, that “we thought it was fun but sort of silly too,” what with how slow you had to go to avoid rope burns. I reveled in the details that put our modern world into perspective: apparently Davis didn’t enjoy climbing in a skirt, like most women of the day, and instead had her dressmaker turn her climbing skirt into knickerbockers, or baggy pants gathered at the knee. She didn’t use a sleeping bag but instead surplus army blankets and a tarp. She mentioned jello as a key food for such outings—I think we should bring this trend back. But it wasn’t all grit and toughness—Eleanor and Albert hated alpine starts and often got back in the dark, or slept on a rock ledge when they got benighted. 

Davis swore she never took a fall when climbing, and that the only climbing accident she ever witnessed was rockfall hitting her friend Jo Deutschbein in the head when a party climbing above dislodged some choss. Yet she was less interested in analyzing accidents that really did happen, and instead was more intrigued by the drama of a potentially tall tale. Her friend Eleanor Bartlett always insisted that Albert Ellingwood and Bee Rogers were struck by lightning when the group was climbing Blanca Peak, resulting in a fall—though the effects of the strike must have been temporary, because Davis, being the last member of the party, never was sure if Bartlett’s tale was true. 

Eleanor Davis climbed with Agnes Vaille and Betsy Cowles, two mountaineers who are hidden in the archives nearly as much as Davis. But rather than list their accomplishments together, what Davis remembered were their personalities—they were intellectual, wise, and Betsy threw great parties. Before Cowles got married, Davis remembers her saying “Oh Eleanor, I’m marrying a wonderful man. And he likes the mountains too, and that’s just frosting on the cake.” 

Despite her extensive experience, and her preference for Ellingwood as a partner, Davis occasionally had to fight to be taken seriously as a mountaineer. On a trip to the Arapaho Peaks, she was told that only a “very select group could go on the North Peak.” She responded, “Well I’m very select.” Her confidence must have won her some points, or perhaps our gear really does tell much about our experience or gumbiness—they looked at her shoes and her camping equipment, and determined that perhaps she was right. She summited Arapaho without a hitch. 

Photo Credit: Ben Farrar

Even when it came to reflecting on her ascent of the Grand Teton, in 1923, all she had for me was a minor crisis. She and Ellingwood had climbed out on a ridge on their stomachs, and Ellingwood needed a leg up. So Davis leaned over to give him a shoulder to stand up on, knocking her glasses off in the process, sending them skittering down clear to the glacier below. Thankfully, Davis mainly needed the glasses for reading, and could get along fine without them, as evidently they made the summit—and made history. 

When I first listened to these scattered stories, I was a little disappointed. But as I sifted through her stories, and read and listened to them again and again, I started to recognize a certain gleam to them. Eleanor Davis was a woman who did extraordinary things for her time, and yet she valued the ordinary—the humble minutia of what makes climbing so rich as a life experience. 

I am not a climber who does extraordinary things for my time. Most of us aren’t. Most of us think our climbing partners are funny, and have to stand up for ourselves occasionally to get taken seriously, and have minor-crises, not epics—just like Davis. Yet often, I am dissatisfied with that. 

Getting to know Eleanor Davis, from the few archives I could find, made me really like her—her spunk, her genuine glee when she mentioned the mountains, her care for her climbing partners. Getting to know Eleanor Davis also made me learn a lesson I’ve been needing to learn again and again from climbing: What gets us to the top of the pitch, or the mountain, is incomparable to someone else’s reasons. Perhaps that's why Davis was so humble about her accomplishments. She herself didn’t need anything grand to come from the Grand—because it was already there, in the minutia.


Rewind the Climb

The First Ascent of Mt. Vinson

A Story from the AAC Archives

by Grey Satterfield

When inspiration for our next climbing trip strikes, we’re flooded with options to seek out every last possible detail. We pour over guidebooks with full-page spreads of color topos. We log on to Mountain Project and read about every route on the cliff. We find YouTube videos with move-by-move beta of the routes and boulders we want to try. Then we hop on Google Maps and get to-the-minute estimates of how long it will take to get there. We whip out our phone and get a hyper-detailed forecast with temps, wind speed, humidity, and anything else we’d ever care to know about the weather.

By the time we arrive, there’s no mystery. We’ve discovered everything there is to know.

That wasn’t always the case. In 1966 the American Alpine Club sent ten American climbers into the heart of the unknown: Antarctica. Read the full story here and explore photos and artifacts from the expedition.

The Line — August 2023

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


Kim Chang-ho below Bakma Brakk in the Karakoram. Kim soloed the 6,200-meter peak by the line shown, one of four solo first ascents in Pakistan in the summer and fall of 2003 that had not been described in English publications. Photo by Kim Chang-ho.

Historic Summer

At the AAJ, we love uncovering little-known climbs from the past. The 2023 AAJ, which is now being mailed out to AAC members, includes several previously unpublished tales from as far back as the 1970s. But none tops our story about a singular summer in the life of Kim Chang-ho, who died in 2018, at the age of 49, at the base of Gurja Himal in Nepal.

Kim Chang-ho was perhaps the most accomplished mountaineer from Korea. He was noted for high-altitude ascents such as a south-north traverse of Nanga Parbat, a new route up the south face of Gangapurna, and the first ascents of Batura II and Himjung. He climbed all of the 8,000-meter peaks without supplemental oxygen. However, less well known outside Korea was his solitary exploration of the mountains of northern Pakistan from 2000 to 2004.

Kim below Haiz Kor in the eastern Hindu Raj mountains.

In AAJ 2023, Korean climber and journalist Oh Young-hoon provides details of four solo first ascents of 6,000-meter peaks during the summer of 2003, when Kim was 33 years old. He spent more than three months that summer and fall wandering through the Little Pamir, Hindu Raj, and Karakoram ranges, climbing and exploring previously untraveled passes, alone or with inexperienced porters and hikers. Rarely has the freedom of the hills been so richly expressed. Oh based his AAJ story on Kim’s unpublished journals and on articles for Korean magazines, and we’re excited to bring it to English-speaking readers.

For more on Kim’s life and climbs, check out Oh Young-hoon’s “Local Hero” piece for Alpinist, published in the fall of 2021.


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The North Cascades High Route

Speaking of unfettered travel through the mountains: Last summer, climber/runners Jenny Abegg and Kaytlyn Gerbin stitched together a mega link-up in the state of Washington, traveling 127 miles, north to south, through the high country of North Cascades National Park. “It’s no secret that this style of travel has grown more popular throughout the last decade or so,” Abegg writes in AAJ 2023. Climbers want to go faster and lighter; runners want to go bigger. In Washington’s Cascades, mountaineering routes have become common ground for those looking for that engaging cocktail of endurance and skill.” The North Cascades High Route took seven days. Here’s a small gallery, generously shared by pro photographers Nick Danielson and Steven Gnam.

See a 17-minute film of the North Cascades High Route here. We’re also happy to say that Jenny Abegg is joining the AAJ editing team and will be working on some Climbs & Expeditions reports for the 2024 edition.


Farewell to Two Greats

This summer the climbing world lost two greats of international mountaineering: Dmitry Pavlenko and Ermanno Salvaterra.

Svetlana and Dmitry Pavlenko on the north face of Free Korea Peak in September 2022.

Pavlenko and his wife, Svetlana, and two clients disappeared during an attempt on 7,439-meter Pik Pobeda in Kyrgyzstan in late July. Dmitry Pavlenko gained fame as a key member of two large teams that climbed big-wall-style routes up the west face of Makalu and north face of Jannu. More recently, he based his guiding business and climbing attention in the Ala-Archa mountains of Kyrgyzstan, climbing the steep north face of Pik Svobodnaya Koreya (“Free Korea Peak”) many times, including several new routes. The most recent of these came last September, when the Pavlenko couple climbed Chumba and Raccoon (800m, ED+ 6b A3), a new line reported in the next AAJ.

Ermanno Salvaterra, who died in a fall in mid-August in the Brenta Dolomites, near his home in Italy, was famous for his visionary routes up the biggest and steepest walls of Cerro Torre in Patagonia—the south face and the east face—along with the first winter ascent of the tower. In 2005, Salvaterra teamed up with Alessandro Beltrami and Rolando Garibotti to climb El Arca de los Vientos, the first complete route up the north face of Cerro Torre. Salvaterra’s feature story about this climb in the 2006 edition was his final article for the AAJ.

The AAJ extends its condolences to the family and friends of these two climbers.


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].

CONNECT: Climbing Partnerships that Shape Us, with Erik Weihenmayer and Felipe Tapia Nordenflycht

In this episode, we sit down with climbing partners Erik Weihenmayer and Felipe Tapia Nordenflycht to talk about their recent expedition to Patagonia. Erik and Felipe are each incredible athletes in their own right, but the real heart of this conversation is about partnership, and the ways we learn from and rely on our climbing partners. We dive into Erik’s incredible career as the first blind person to climb Everest, and Felipe’s roots in Chile that inspired this expedition and continue to influence him as he emerges as an athlete and pro photographer. We cover their unique experiences at the summit of Torre Norte, and how each of them hope to see the climbing community grow and expand. Their travels to Patagonia and their partnership are the subject of an upcoming film sponsored by Rab—get the full story and behind the scenes details in this episode of the AAC podcast!





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The Prescription—August 2023

We are about to enter the prime big-wall season for Yosemite Valley, so this month we’re featuring a big-wall mishap. Last year, a solo aid climber suffered a serious leader fall on a classic Yosemite wall. He used a bit of know-how and perseverance to help effect his own rescue. This report will appear in the upcoming 2023 edition of Accidents in North American Climbing.

Fall on Rock

Yosemite National Park, Washington Column

On June 28, at 10:59 a.m., Yosemite Dispatch received a report of a 42-year-old male who had taken an approximately 50-foot fall on The Prow (V 5.8 C2) on Washington Column. The climber’s plan had been a multi-day, aid-solo ascent. On the second pitch, the climber fell, ripped rock protection, and struck a ledge. He recalled, “I felt the sensation of falling—it was so sudden and so fast. Then I remember hitting a ledge hard, bouncing, sliding. I remember hitting two more small ledges on the way down.”

Washington Column. The Prow is a classic aid route and excellent primer for El Cap. It climbs the smooth, golden plaque of rock on the right side of the formation. Photo: xRez Studio

The climber was finally caught by his rope. He had sustained closed injuries to his head, knee, and ankle. He also had one open injury to his thigh that he tied off with an improvised tourniquet. He wrote, “I could not breathe in all the way. Possible lung injury—it felt like fractured ribs. Can’t do anything about that, other than controlled breathing. Next, I looked around and saw the deep laceration on my inner left thigh. This one I was worried about! I had flesh hanging out that I put back in, and I stopped the bleeding with my bandana. Then I checked my limbs. The hands, feet, neck, and back seemed okay.”

He began to ascend his rope in order to reach his cell phone to call for help. He recalled, “I had to get my phone from my haulbag, which was above me about 50 feet. I thought, if I were to get rescued it would be easier for YOSAR to get me from the ground and not on the side of the wall. I did not have my jumars with me because I was leading. So, I used two prusiks, one that I had and the second one that doubled as my belt for my chalk bag. I untangled myself from the ropes, backed myself up with a Grigri, and began the painful journey up to my phone. I finally arrived at the belay station [and the phone], quickly set up for a rappel, fixed both the lead and haul line, and got down to the beginning of the climbing, which starts at the top of a 4th-class section.”  

The YOSAR hasty team located him at the top of the 4th class and provided necessary care. Soon a technical rescue team of four arrived and rigged to lower the injured climber down to the bottom of the cliff. From an open, grassy area between the South Face and Astroman routes, the climber was short-hauled by helicopter and transferred to a hospital.

Editor’s Note: In 2016, another climber fell from a similar section of aid on the nearby South Face route, when a cam pulled from a flared piton scar. That climber also ripped several pieces before coming to a stop. Take extra care placing cams in pin scars. Offset nuts, offset cams, and Totem cams often have superior holding power in these flared/grooved placements. Read the 2016 report.

The first few pitches of The Prow follow classic yet tricky piton-scarred cracks and corners. Extra care must be taken when placing gear in such flared placements. Photo by Ryan Meyers.

Analysis

“A piece for you and a piece for Mom,” as they say. Climbing above ledges is a heads-up moment—the threat of falling and getting traumatically injured is very real. As climbers, what can we do to make climbing above ledges safer? Backing up pieces is one option. Also, be aware of how much slack is in your system.

Other takeaways:

Bring a medical kit. A light medical kit while climbing could be a life saver. Ideally, it is never used, but it’s always wise to be prepared for an accident. A little tape, some pain meds, and gauze go a long way.

Practice and be familiar with self-rescue techniques. During this rescue, the injured climber did an excellent job of helping himself. Even after sustaining several injures, he was able to improvise gear, ascend his line, and rappel down the cliff. His self-rescue skills made the whole operation much faster and more efficient. Study self-rescue skills and practice with friends, or consider taking a self-rescue course.

Climb with a partner. While some enjoy the extra challenge of climbing alone, there’s no denying that aid soloing introduces more risk and complexity to a climb. Consider climbing with a partner for a safer climb, or at least acknowledge the added risk of climbing alone. Is it worth it?

The climber offered some final thanks and advice for others: “I cannot thank YOSAR, all the medical professionals, and all my friends and family who helped me and are helping through this event. I feel that even though being super prepared is a must, life just happens! I encourage all climbers to learn basic self-rescue skills.”

(Source: Yosemite National Park Climbing Rangers.)


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With three spotters and five crash pads, Emily Diamond can safely launch into the crux of Heartbreak Hotel (V2). Photo by Pete Takeda.

From the Editor: On the Small(er) Rocks

I’m a week into a bouldering trip to Squamish. It’s peak season in terms of number of climbers, but it’s a little early for good conditions, that brief period in which cool temperatures converge with low humidity.

Bouldering is my first love. As a teenager, I started climbing in an abandoned quarry. Over the years I would learn that the spirit of climbing is in its movement and all I would need learn of any style of ascent could be traced back to those boulders. We wore painter’s pants and carbon rubber (non-sticky) high-tops called EB’s—pretty much the only performance rock shoe of the time. This was in the pre-pad days and spotting was unheard of. While bouldering, I managed to suffer my first serious accident—fracturing my leg at the age of 16.

Today, while topping out a classic highball, I have a half-dozen pads below, along with a handful of attentive spotters. That said, I am reminded that climbing on the small(er) stones, though generally regarded as safe, arguably holds a higher injury potential than any other facet of climbing. My reasoning is:

1. Move for move, bouldering is the most difficult game in climbing.

2. Bouldering is quite popular and exposes the largest number of climbers to the largest number of falls.

3. Every bouldering fall is a ground fall. 

4. Crowds can create a false sense of security.

5. The uninhibited and maximal physical effort demanded by bouldering can draw attention from critical peripheral matters, like pad placement, spotting, and falling.

Boulderers hit the ground more than in any other genre. While these accidents do not incur fatalities (at least that I am aware of), nor prompt spectacular rescues, they do have a huge impact on our community.

I encourage anyone experiencing or witnessing a bouldering accident to report them here.

While we annually publish a few bouldering accidents—the vast majority of them result in lower-leg and/or wrist/arm injuries, and the vast majority self-rescue—obtaining data is important. It is prudent to reinforce best practices. Read more on bouldering safely here.


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Legacy Series: The Uriostes, the Origins of Red Rock's Classics

Jorge Urioste was a priest from Chile. Joanne had strong-headed ideals, and was determined to be independent—pitting herself against death-defying situations through climbing in order to prove it. They were climbing together constantly, and then one thing led to another, and they were kissing in a bivy cave in the Gunks. Their marriage and lifelong commitment to climbing would produce some of the most notable multi-pitch classics of Red Rock, including Epinephrine, Prince of Darkness, and Levitation 29, among many others. They broke a lot of climbing's rules at the time—including bolting, but also publishing a guidebook on the "sandstone junk" that others perceived Red Rock climbing to be. This is their story, a long overdue tribute to their legacy in climbing.


Legacy Series: Jack Tackle, First Ascents in the Alaska Range

Jack Tackle was a van dweller before he became a climber, but on that first day, he was hooked. He loved the anarchy of the small fringe activity that was climbing, and he would go on to channel that anarchy into proud first ascents, including FA's on Waddington as well as throughout the Alaska Range. Dive into this film to hear Tackle's reflections on his mountain life, his first ascents, and what motivated him to keep pushing his technical edge.


CLIMB: The Training Episode, with Tom Randall

On this episode of the podcast, we sat down with the infamous Tom Randall of Wide Boyz fame. Tom reflected on some of the most transformative moments in his climbing career, debunked some of the myths of climbing training, and got us hyped on the AAC’s new partnership and discount with Lattice Training. Whether it's how to train as a trad climber, or the difference that trainers see between UK athletes and US athletes, we covered a broad range of topics. If you’re curious whether you should start training for climbing, even if your goals in climbing have nothing to do with pushing grades, then dive in!



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.

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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

man mantles over the lip boulder top out

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.

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.

Behind the Scenes of United in Yosemite

CLIMB: Behind the Scenes of the USA Climbing Training Center

olympics; climbing comps; USA 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. 


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.


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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

climbing backups.jpg


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

lowering sans backup.jpg

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. 

belaying; how to belay; how to back up a belay

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

backing up a belay; how to 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.

backup knots; rock climbing knots

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.

belay back up; friction hitch

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.

climbing accident report; rock fall accident

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.

giving slack while belaying; belaying with an ATC
how to belay with an ATC
how to belay with an ATC; break hand

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.

belaying with a grigri; how to belay
belaying with a grigri; how to belay

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.

single rope rappel; rappelling with a grigri; how to rappel

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.

ascension systems for climbing; rope ascension

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.

belaying from above with a grigri

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.

types of belay devices