Dear Mother: A Transracial Adoption Story

An Upcoming Film from Jon Glassberg, Sophi Rutherford, and the Pull Focus Grant

In Dear Mother, climber and transracial Asian-American, Cody Kaemmerlen, searches for connection with his birth parents after a near-death fall leaves him shaken and grasping for answers.

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Synopsis

Cody Kaemmerlan is a climber adopted out of South Korea in 1984, into rural Tillamook, Oregon. He was raised by a loving family, and thrived in his small town, not fully comprehending what it was like to be a person of color in a white world. After reaching out to the adoption agency, he was left with an email stating his birth mother had no interest in meeting her son. He struggled in adulthood, as he started to experience adversity which produced a cycle of anger, divorce, car accident, and finally a near-death free-soloing fall which became a catalyst for change.

A few years later, the agency reached out with an apology about a file mix-up, stating his birth mother and father would love to meet. Soon after, he begins to process his adoption and identity with the help of the climbing community and close friends.

Follow Cody to South Korea on his mission to meet his mother and father, in hopes of finding resolution and inner peace.

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ABOUT The Directors:

Louder Than 11 is a media production company and creative agency based in Boulder, Colorado, run by Jon and Jess Glassberg. LT11 delivers authentic narratives through their work with top-level brands, professional athletes, and other creatives in the Outdoor Industry. Louder Than Eleven is made up of passionate filmmakers, photographers, and professionals who tell great stories through adventure media.

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In Association With:

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ABOUT THE PULL FOCUS GRANT:

Climbers build their lives around adventure in the outdoors. Climb United is committed to being adventurous in our pursuit of others’ perspectives. We know how important climbing media is in shaping climbing culture. We also know that the stories that have been told have highlighted those in power. We want to remove barriers that underrepresented communities continue to be challenged with when accessing the outdoor media and production industry and to support the progression of a talented filmmaker’s career. 

Introducing Pull Focus: a storytelling grant that provides BIPOC, LGBTQ+ individuals, and people with both seen and unseen disabilities the funds and mentorship support to create and share stories that reflect their communities. The Pull Focus Grant is made possible by Mountain Hardwear!

Dear Mother was assistant directed by the recipient of the Pull Focus Grant, Sophi Rutherford. Read about Sophi’s artistic philosophy and why she resonated with Cody’s story in this profile of Sophi as an emerging filmmaker.

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CREDITS:

A Louder Than Eleven Production 

Presented by American Alpine Club 

In Association With Mountain Hardwear 

With Support From A-Lodge & Pro Photo Rental

Directed by Jon Glassberg 

Starring Cody Kaemmerlen 

Birth Parents Nam Family

Featuring Janet Kaemmerlen, Mike Kaemmerlen, Nina Williams, Suah Yu, Peter Clotfelter-Quenelle, Hoseok Lee

Assistant Director Sophi Rutherford 

Written by Jon Glassberg, Jessica Glassberg 

Edited by Jon Glassberg 

Assistant Edit Saraphina Redalieu

Video by Jon Glassberg, Jessica Glassberg, Sophi Rutherford, Cody Kaemmerlen 

Photography Sophi Rutherford, Jessica Glassberg

Archival Material Provided by Cody Kaemmerlen, Kaemmerlen Family, Joey Maloney 

Voice Over Mei Ratz

Pull Focus: Behind the Scenes with Sophi Rutherford

Sophi Rutherford in action during the making of Dear Mother. PC: Cody Kaemmerlan.

Sophi Rutherford is the recipient of the first ever Pull Focus Grant, a grant that provides historically underserved outdoor filmmakers the opportunity to intern with a premier photo/video production studio, Louder Than Eleven, and advance their careers in this notoriously competitive space. Through this paid internship, she served as the assistant director on the upcoming film Dear Mother, a transracial adoption story, following the climber Cody Kaemmerlan as he grapples with his identity and ultimately travels to Korea to meet his birth parents. In this profile on Sophi, Holly Yu Tung Chen uncovers Sophi’s artistic philosophy, the importance of telling transracial adoption stories, and the pull to hide behind a camera. Dive in to get a glimpse at the process behind making Dear Mother, and get to know Sophi Rutherford as an emerging filmmaker.

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In Dear Mother, climber and transracial Asian-American, Cody Kaemmerlen, searches for connection with his birth parents after a near-death fall leaves him shaken and grasping for answers.

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Learn More

The Pull Focus Grant

Emerging Filmmaker: Sophi Rutherford

Film Subject: Cody Kaemmerlan

Writer: Holly Yu Tung Chen

Louder Than Eleven

Climb United

The Pull Focus Grant Was Made Possible By:

Navajo Rising: An Indigenous Emergence Story

Shiprock (Tsé Bit a í, “winged rock”) rises over 1,500 feet above the desert floor of the Navajo Nation in San Juan County, New Mexico (Diné, Pueblos, Ute lands). Shiprock was a sought-after summit during the late 1930s, until the first ascent was done in 1939 by David Brower and Sierra Club team. It marks one of the first times bolts were placed for protection in the history of North American climbing. However, the rock formation is highly sacred to the Navajo people, having historical and religious significance. In 1966, the Navajo Nation banned all climbing on their lands, including Shiprock.

by Aaron Mike

This Indigenous People’s Day, we’re reposting a beautifully written essay by Navajo climber Aaron Mike that we published in 2019.

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Acknowledging the roots and conceptualizations of the outdoor activities that we so passionately pursue enriches our participation and ties us to the land, as well as to one another. When we view our industry through a historical lens, we inevitably hear about John Muir, Sir Edmund Hillary, Royal Robbins, and other giants of outdoor recreation. We revere them based on their successes and physical accomplishments. There is one similarity between them that is rarely mentioned: the entirety of their recreational pursuits took place on ancestral homelands of Indigenous Peoples. The Miwok and Piute resided amongst the majestic granite walls of what is now Yosemite National Park. The Havasupai and Hualapai cultivated the areas of the Grand Canyon. The Shoshone, Bannock, Blackfoot, Crow, Flathead, Gros Ventre, and the Nez Perce tribes inhabited what is now Grand Teton National Park. The history and heritage of Indigenous peoples as an inherent part of the lands on which we recreate is a topic that must be part of the conversation if we are to achieve a responsible, sustainable, and inclusive industry. Especially today, this topic is paramount not only because it enhances the care and stewardship of the lands we all love, but also because it is a statement against the systematic dehumanization of a people. 

Diné Bahane’, the Navajo creation story, tells of the journey through three worlds to the fourth world, where the Navajo people now reside. The story details chaos and drama as the Diné, or “Holy people,” moved through Black World, which contained no light; Blue World, which contained light; and Yellow World, which contained great rivers. Eventually, in the 4th world, White World, the Diné would assume human form after gaining greater intelligence and awareness. Through these worlds deities, vegetation, and animals accompanied the Diné, as well as our four sacred mountains;  Sis Naajini (Blanca Peak), Tsoodził (Mount Taylor), Dook’o’oosłid (the San Francisco Peaks) and Dibé Nitsaa (Mount Hesperus).     

Like the story of my people, my tribe, I have gone through many different worlds to walk the path that I am on today. My first world, Ni’hodiłhił, consisted of a surreal state of constantly spending time in the outdoors on the Navajo Nation from Sanders, AZ to Monument Valley, AZ, as well as my hometown of Gallup, NM. Weekends and summers were spent playing with my cousins through the tranquility provided, or turbulence imposed, by our Mother Nature. My grandparents taught me about sheep herding with blue heelers, building hogáns, and butchering sheep. I learned how to take care of horses and cattle, and how to live off of the land. During the spring and summer I spent nights sleeping under the stars and a Pendleton blanket in the back of my grandfather’s early 1990’s Ford F-150. During the fall and winter, I woke up sweating under a sheep woolskin blanket next to a wood burning stove that my grandfather had installed. 

I blinked my eyes and I was in the second world of my journey, Ni’hodootł’izh, far from the Navajo Nation in the Northwest, transported to an environment where all of those activities that had made me feel so real were not customary or necessary, and were even frowned upon. Due to my Diné heritage and my personality, being in the outdoors is a necessity. It is hardwired into my entire being. In this second world, the connection to the land that I had experienced and loved was diverted and diminished. I began to feel disconnected from my Diné roots and felt a growing spiritual void.

I awoke for my first day in a new desert environment and into my third world, Ni’haltsoh. By this time, high school, my identity was in constant flux. I struggled to find my place and individual path in a sea of foreign values and ambitions. I blew through various sports, political ideas, social scenes, and academic areas of study. Amidst the chaos of these years, I found a vehicle that would take me into my fourth world, rock climbing. Being on the walls and boulders in Yosemite National Park, Rocky Mountain National Park, the eastern Sierra Nevada, Cochise Stronghold, Hueco Tanks State Park, and Mount Lemmon with people that shared similar values brought me back to a feeling of connection. Rock climbing became my missing identity puzzle piece; a reincarnation of my first world. 

Ni’halgai, the fourth world of my journey: I am Tábaahá, the Edgewater clan, born for Tł’ógí, the Zia clan. My maternal grandfather is Táchii’nii and paternal grandfather is Tódích’íi’nii. After 16 years of redpoints, boulders, summits, alpine ascents, and first ascents, I am an Indigenous rock climbing guide, guide company owner, professional rock climbing athlete, and advocate for the protection of sacred land resources. My fourth world came about after I resolved that I am committed to the path I am on and that I do not want my story to be unique. It is my goal to provide the same access that was gifted to me to Indigenous youth as a means of connection to their land and to their heritage. 

The author, Aaron Mike, bouldering in Northern Arizona (Hopi, Yavapai, Western Apache, Ancestral Puebloan lands). PC: James Q Martin

Simply acknowledging Indigenous heritage and history as a part of the land is not the only answer. It is a step in our First World, eventually leading to our Fourth World of evolution. Accountability is not only assumed with the people and organizations in the industry that are trying to make a sustainable difference, but should be carried out through the actions of each and every climber. Throughout the decades and in my personal experience there has been a culture in climbing that tries to nullify existing law on sacred lands, specifically on the Navajo Nation. Climbers drill fresh bolts and pay to poach sacred formations behind excuses like “good intentions” or “having a Native friend.” These illegal actions are a modern day conquer-and-destroy mentality that fails to respect Indigenous sovereignty and deteriorates the credibility of potential sustainable rock climbing efforts.

Indigenous Peoples are not extinct. Not everything needs to be climbed. Recreation must take a back seat to respecting Indigenous practices that have existed for millennia. Media channels promote first ascents, first free ascents, first descents, and sending of beautiful lines in remote places on rock, snow, or water, which can overlook Indigenous values. The actions that we take must respect Indigenous culture and it is up to us as the greater climbing community to decide the direction that we wish to pursue. Like climbers’ push for Leave No Trace implementation and education, it is up to all of us to push our Local Climbing Organizations to provide information on how to recreate with respect on or near sacred lands and to develop relationships with local Tribes. We must shift the ethos from a western “take” culture in order to not only respect the original stewards of the land, but to ensure that Nahasdzáán, the Earth, will be healthy for our future generations. 

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Aaron Mike is a Navajo rock climbing guide, a NativeOutdoors athlete, and a Native Lands Regional Coordinator for the Access Fund. Since the time of this being originally published, he has also joined the Protect Our Winters athlete team. Find him here.

CONNECT: Undercover Crusher Andrew Leich Talks Developing in West Virginia

Welcome to the first episode of our “Undercover Crushers” series, where the AAC talks to some of the hidden gems of the climbing community—those climbers who are hitting big numbers under the radar, but also crushing in a different sense…contributing to their community in big ways, that often go unnoticed.

In our first episode, we’re talking to a prolific developer and local West Virginia crusher—Andrew Leich—who's based out of an area of West Virginia that’s ALSO undercover…the bouldering and climbs of Cheat Canyon and Morgantown, WV. We talk to Andrew about the excellent rock around this area, and his projects—including a massive endurofest double digit sloper boulder and a clean crimping 14b at the historica Seneca Rocks. We dive into developing, the trouble with grading, wrestling rhododendrons, land use ethics when developing, writing a comprehensive guidebook for the exploding rock in the region, and more. Oh, and we also briefly cover his dramatic run-in with a timber rattlesnake.

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Learn More

Buy Andrew’s Guidebook: Cheat Canyon Rock

Learn More about Andrew Leich

Whose Risk Is It? How A Little-Known Statute Protects Climbing Access Across America

Taken from the DeCaLiBron, a Colorado link-up of four 14ers—Mt. Democrat, Mt. Cameron, Mt. Lincoln, and Mt. Bross. Lincoln and Bross are on private land. PC: Lucy Hooper

by Alex Derr

Climbing, bouldering, and mountaineering are inherently risky activities—we all know that. Loose rocks, extreme weather, and freak accidents are just a few of the threats we face when we head to the mountains. For many, that sense of uncertainty and adventure is part of what makes it so special. Risk is the price we pay to practice our passion. However, while climbers often discuss aspects of personal risk, including how to identify risk, manage, and mitigate it, we rarely discuss the flip side of the coin: personal liability. Every now and then, debates break out into the open over who is ultimately responsible for ensuring climber safety. Is it climbers themselves, the broader climbing community, or the managers and owners of the land they climb on?

Personal liability pertains to the ethical and legal obligations someone may have in the event of injury, damage, or loss while engaged in recreational activities such as climbing. If an individual is deemed liable for your injury, you have the legal right to sue for damages. This serves not only as a method for financial recovery but also as a deterrent against future negligence to ensure the safety of others. To fully understand this complex issue, it's helpful to envision liability and risk as two ends of a continuum related to recreational responsibility.

On one end, you have individuals who fully accept personal risk. These people assume complete responsibility for their own safety, attributing any accidents to either their own actions or natural phenomena. On the other end are those who believe that the onus of their safety largely falls on others. According to this perspective, climbers are entitled to be warned of, or protected from, any potential hazards while engaged in climbing activities. In cases where that isn’t possible, trails or crags should be closed if that is what is required to keep the public safe.

In reality, most climbers fall somewhere in the middle, leaning ever so slightly in the direction of personal risk. We appreciate that safety is ultimately our own responsibility, while acknowledging that in some cases, others may bear some responsibility for accidents and injuries. For example, few climbers would ever consider suing a landowner because they fell and were injured because a handhold broke or an anchor gave way. However, if a landowner purposefully damaged the anchors to try and deter climbing, most would consider them liable for injuries that result. 

Mt. Sherman, one of Colorado’s 14ers that is on private land. PC: Katie Sauter

Historically, personal liability has been more than a mere theoretical issue. In the 1960s, demand for recreation access started to grow as the population boomed and hiking, camping, climbing, and skiing surged in popularity. Public lands were filling up, so climbers and other groups sought out new wild places on private land and sought permission to access them. While landowners were often sympathetic, they faced significant legal hurdles that led many to refuse. At the time, the legal system used three categories to determine what duty of care a landowner owed visitors on their land. 

Trespassers (individuals without permission), had a very low duty of care. Landowners could only be sued if they intentionally harmed them. However, licensees (individuals with implicit permission) had a much higher standard, with landowners expected to warn them of dangerous conditions, mitigate hazards, and close the land if necessary to ensure safety. Lastly, invitees (individuals present as part of a commercial transaction) had the highest standard, as landowners had to proactively inspect their property to identify and remove hazards. 

Depending on the specific circumstances, climbers and hikers were usually classified as either invitees or licensees, leaving landowners open to significant lawsuits if they were injured or killed due to a landowner’s perceived negligence. A series of high profile lawsuits in multiple states created a chilling effect that made it nearly impossible to gain access to private areas for recreation in most parts of the country.   

AAC grant recipients climbing Crestone Needle. One trailhead to access Crestone Needle is on private land.

To address the situation, the National Conference of State Legislatures crafted a model statute in 1965 called a recreational use statute (RUS). The original draft was relatively simple: in exchange for providing free public access on their land, landowners would receive strong legal protections, leaving them liable for injuries only when they willfully or maliciously fail to warn visitors of known dangerous hazards. Within a decade, all 50 states adopted a RUS to protect landowners, promote personal responsibility, and keep access open for outdoor recreation.

While all recreational use statutes are based on the first Model Act, they have been amended and added to many times over the decades in response to lawsuits, accidents, and changes in the way we recreate and enjoy the outdoors. For example, the first statutes adopted only protected private landowners, despite the fact that public lands were also at risk of major lawsuits. In 1979, an updated model act addressed this gap, with added clarification that recreational use statutes were intended to protect owners and managers of both private and public lands. While most states have adopted this change, there are still a few outliers.

Another significant difference across recreational use statutes are their exceptions. No RUS provides a blanket liability shield. Each lists a few situations where a landowner might still be found liable, in an effort to balance public access with public safety. In all 50 states, landowners are held responsible if they intentionally inflict harm—by setting traps, for example, or deliberately tampering with safety equipment. Additionally, most states leave landowners liable for injuries if they charge an access fee or run a commercial operation on their land. Beyond those conditions, there is widespread variation from state-to-state.

For example, Ohio’s recreational use statute protects landowners in almost every circumstance; they can only be sued if they injure someone purposefully and maliciously. On the other hand, 12 states leave landowners liable for willful and wanton activities or grossly negligent actions, and more than 20 states require landowners to warn visitors of any known dangerous conditions on their land. This creates a substantial burden, especially for large land holdings where there may be hundreds of known hazards, which must all be addressed to protect them from liability. In areas where climbing is popular, this can be an even greater lift, as installing warning signs on rocky terrain is both time-consuming and expensive.

The author on Mt. Sherman, one of the CO 14ers that is on private land.

Colorado offers a case in point. A 2018 Federal Court ruling held the U.S. Air Force Academy accountable for a bicyclist's severe injuries sustained on a known hazardous trail on their property. The court ordered the Academy to pay $7.8 million in damages. Following the ruling, four major peaks were closed to the public within a two-year period: Mount Lindsey, Mount Democrat, Mount Cameron, and Mount Lincoln. Though legal experts and the Colorado Trial Lawyers Association argued that this verdict was an outlier, the decision nevertheless prompted many landowners to close their lands to avoid potential lawsuits. Some peaks have temporarily reopened, thanks to a cooperative liability waiver system, but their long-term status remains in flux as advocacy groups like the American Alpine Club push for legislative revisions.

Culebra Peak, one of Colorado’s 14ers on private land. Photo courtesy of the American Alpine Club Library

Recreational use statutes can also affect our access to public lands. Flaws in a RUS can have major impacts on access to state parks and other lands, as demonstrated by the situation in Hawaii. In 1999, dozens of people were relaxing and swimming in a pool at Sacred Falls State Park when a rockslide came down the mountain above them. When the dust settled and first responders arrived, they found eight dead and more than thirty others wounded. Within a few months, several of the victims and their families filed a lawsuit against the state, eventually winning $8 million in a settlement agreement with the Attorney General.

Unlike other states, Hawaii’s legislature specified that public lands were not covered under the RUS, leaving them at a higher risk of liability than most state land managers. In the case of Sacred Falls, the state had installed ten different warning signs to let visitors know about the danger of falling rocks. The court found that the signs did not meet the standard of care owed to the visitors—and thus the state was liable for their injuries.

The lawsuit’s impacts were immediate and significant. In addition to Sacred Falls State Park, more than 20 different trails, parks, and wilderness areas were closed to the public. The state could no longer count on the protection of their RUS and decided the risk was too great to allow the public to access these areas. One of the biggest losses was the Mokulēʻia Wall, a 95-foot climbing crag famous for its multiple routes on the shores of Oahu. 

Hawaii’s climbing community did not stand idle. After two and a half years of negotiations and discussions with the Hawaii Department of Land and Natural Resources, they formed the Hawaii Climbers Coalition and received a permit to resume climbing at Mokulēʻia, provided they handle visitor education, anchor inspection, and record-keeping to reduce the liability risks for the state. While these partnerships have been able to keep some areas open, many remain closed—and numerous attempts to address the situation through updates to the law have fizzled out due to opposition by the state’s Trial Lawyers Association.

As more people continue to embrace outdoor recreation, including climbing and mountaineering, we can expect recreational use statutes to become even more relevant. With public lands and parks filling up, and new permit and reservation systems launching each year, there has never been a greater need to work with private landowners to expand access to rural lands for outdoor adventure. There are many potential ways that states can improve these statutes, provide stronger safeguards and flexibility for landowners, and thereby incentivize access for the public.

Some states are providing landowners more flexibility to charge use or access fees. Most recreational use statutes only apply if access is granted to the public without charge. However, this leaves the landowner with no way to raise money to install warning signs, maintain trails, and clean up after visitors. It also limits their ability to purchase liability insurance or pay to run a waiver system—both of which significantly increase their protection. By allowing landowners to collect a small fee, with an annual and individual cap, states give them more ability to manage the impacts of access and provide more protection for themselves from lawsuits. 

Another place where states can make changes is the issue of attractive nuisances. This doctrine applies to hazards like swimming pools, mining ruins, or farming equipment that are obviously dangerous to adults, but are attractive to children who are unable to appreciate the danger they face. Typically, landowners remain liable for injuries caused by an attractive nuisance, unless they install a fence or other barriers to keep the area inaccessible. These nuisances are common along 14er trails and backpacking routes in the western mountains, and would require major investments and installations to fence off. To address this gap, Colorado amended its RUS in 2005 to shield landowners from attractive nuisance claims that stem from abandoned mining ruins, while leaving the doctrine alone in most other situations. In most other states, this liability risk remains open. 

An example of an attractive nuisance, on Mt. Sherman. This building collapsed in 2016-17. PC: Katie Sauter

Finally, many states have added specific clauses, exceptions, or amendments to address specific landowner concerns or complaints. For example, New Hampshire’s RUS includes a provision that states visitors must remain on designated trails and away from farming equipment or they are automatically classified as trespassers. This addressed concerns among farmers that people would wander and injure themselves while exploring old barns, fields, or irrigation ditches. In Rhode Island, the legislature added a clarification that municipalities were protected after a woman broke her leg walking in a city park and filed a lawsuit against its managers. 

No one wants to get injured while hiking, climbing, or mountaineering. Yet we all acknowledge that outdoor recreation is inherently dangerous: especially in rugged, mountainous terrain. At the same time, we appreciate that those with the ability to warn visitors about a dangerous hazard should do so if it is within their power. Recreational use statutes represent our best attempt to balance these competing priorities: personal risk and personal liability. Only time will tell how these statutes continue to evolve as the demand for recreation increases.

In the meantime, by continuing to work with landowners rather than against them, working hard to help manage and mitigate our own risk, and listening to and helping address their concerns whenever possible, we can all help keep these amazing places open to the public for generations to come. To learn more and support the work of the American Alpine Club and their partners to adapt Colorado’s statute and protect access to the state’s 14ers, visit www.fixCRUS.org.

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About the Author

The author halfway up the Red Gully on Crestone Peak in September 2020.

Alex Derr is a climber, advocate, and environmental policy expert. As secretary of the Fix CRUS Coalition, he is working with more than 40 organizations to strengthen Colorado’s recreational use statute to secure public access to all of the state’s 14ers, trails, and wild areas on private lands. He is Founder and Director of The Next Summit, a blog focused on mountain safety and Leave No Trace in the American West. He is also the Director of Marketing & Communications at Visible Network Labs, a startup that uses social network analysis to map and strengthen cross-sector partnerships. He lives in Aurora, Colorado with his partner Jake and their dog Summit.

Climbers of the Craggin' Classics: NRG

PC: Tanner Henson

We’re interviewing a climber from each event in the Craggin’ Classic Series—Rumney, New River Gorge, Devil’s Lake, Smith Rock, Shelf Road, Moab, and Bishop—to take a deep look into the breadth of climbers that come to Craggins, and how they make the most of each unique event.

Read on to hear from climbers just like you, and their take on the things that matter to climbers.

Meet Leanne Christine Reilly!

A NRG Craggin’ Climber

Scroll to read her story…

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2023 Craggin’ Classic Series Supported By

The Line — Buried Treasure

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

In this edition of “The Line,” American Alpine Journal editor-in-chief Dougald MacDonald offers his annual insider’s guide to the newest AAJ, pointing out a few gems that readers may overlook. “The AAJ mainly exists to document new climbs, but it’s a testament to our contributors’ creativity that their stories are rarely dry,” says MacDonald. “Nearly every report reveals something unexpected: a moment of humor or fear, or a bit of climbing history. You never know what you might find.”

This online feature is made possible by Hilleberg the Tentmaker, presenting sponsor of the AAJ’s Cutting Edge Podcast. 

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Deep in the Fango

Aritza Monasterio trying not to get stuck in the fango on the east face of Hualcán in Peru. Photo by Andrej Jež.

I love a route name with interesting origins, and so it was hard to ignore the fact that two new routes in Peru’s Cordillera Blanca shared the word fango in their names: Fango Fiesta, the first route up the east face of Hualcán, climbed in early July last year, and Fango, Mushrooms, and Cornice, the first ascent of the southwest face of Caraz II, done in August. Both teams included Aritza Monasterio, a resident of Huaraz, whose original home was in Spain. It turns out the Spanish word fango means “mire” or “mud.” Anyone who has attempted to wallow up unconsolidated snow on the shady side of Peru’s big peaks will know exactly how these names originated.

By the way, the “cornice” part of the Caraz II route name has a pretty wild backstory—check it out on page 208 of the new book or read it online.

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The Source

The peaks labeled C, D, E, and F all were climbed by the two-person expedition of Lindsay Griffin and Jan Solov in 1984.

Sumayar Peak (center, now known as Pheker) and Mirshikar Peak (right ) both were climbed solo by Lindsay Griffin in 1984.

Lindsay in recent years. Photo by Anna Piunova.

Lindsay Griffin, the AAJ’s senior editor, is without a doubt the premier chronicler of alpine and Himalayan climbing in the English language. He began working at the AAJ in 2003, and before that he had long contributed to the famed “Mountain Info” section of various British magazines—a sort of mini-AAJ that appeared in every issue—starting with the esteemed Mountain magazine around 1990. Based in North Wales, Lindsay has made dozens of first ascents all around the world, and his knowledge of obscure and remote mountains—and the ability to recall details of their ascents—is astonishing.

Yet somehow, various climbs of Lindsay’s have never made it into the pages of the AAJ. This year, prompted perhaps by the renaming of peaks he climbed and named decades ago, he shared an account of a two-person trip in 1984 to the Sumayar Valley, near Rakaposhi in Pakistan. Climbing solo or with partner Jan Solov, Lindsay made the first ascents of six technical peaks up to 5,750 meters. I’ve asked him to dig into his file cabinets for more stories!

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Don Quixote for a Day

Photo © Jim Herrington.

Some of the best writing in the AAJ often can be found in the In Memoriam section, where climbing partners and friends recall the people they loved. Sometimes, not all of their tales will fit into the printed edition, but we always tell the full stories at the AAJ website. This was the case with John Thackray’s lovely tribute to mountaineer Roman Laba, who died last December; one anecdote in Thackray’s piece, summarized here, appears only at the website.

In the mid-1970s, traveling from Peru to Bolivia, Thackray and Laba caught a ride in an open truck packed with local people and uniformed soldiers, some of whom began harassing some young women in the truck. Despite a fierce altitude headache, Laba leapt to the women’s defense, confronting the soldiers and yelling at the ringleader in Spanish, “What kind of man are you? Why not pick on someone your own size? Me!” Fortunately, this confrontation ended with laughter instead of bloodshed. Years later, Laba recalled to Thackray, “I was Don Quixote for one day. And it was great.”

By the way, our photo of Laba is by Jim Herrington, creator of the brilliant 2017 book of portraits called The Climbers. Jim said he shot this photo of Laba in a tent during a ski tour in the Sierra Nevada in 1999, and that his friend was passing some time by reading a book by the philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau…in French.

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Advanced Rockcraft

Readers of the AAJ occasionally may glean information about new techniques making the rounds of advanced climbers. I remember, for example, when climbers started mentioning the use of ice hammocks to help pitch tents on steep ice and snow slopes. (The ice hammock was invented by Mark Richey and first described in AAJ 2012 during his account of the first ascent of Saser Kangri II, with Steve Swenson and Freddie Wilkinson, in 2011.) In this year’s book, I noted several new-ish techniques for moving efficiently in the mountains.

One of these is “fix and follow,” described by Vince Anderson in his story, starting on page 42 of the new AAJ, about a difficult climb on Jirishanca on Peru with Josh Wharton. With this technique, the leader fixes the rope at the end of a pitch, and then, instead of ascending the fixed rope, the follower self-belays with a Micro Traxion (backed up), so she or he can attempt to free the pitch while the leader relaxes, rehydrates, and prepares for the next pitch. As you’ll hear in the newest Cutting Edge podcast, covering the second ascent of the Cowboy Ridge on Trango Tower, parties of three also use this technique: The leader can start up the next pitch, belayed by the second, while the third climber is freeing the pitch below.

Krasnoyarsk style on the north face of Pik Korolyova. Photo courtesy of Nadya Oleneva.

In Nadya Oleneva’s story about a direct new route up the north face of Pik Korolyova in Kyrgyzstan last summer, she described another interesting technique: “When the wall became steeper, we switched to the ‘Krasnoyarsk style,’” Oleneva wrote in the AAJ. “The leader climbed for 30 meters, made an anchor, fixed a second rope at its midpoint, and then continued climbing; the belayer ascended the fixed rope and at the same time belayed the leader with a Grigri [on the lead rope], while the third member of the team ascended the rope below. This allows the team to climb very quickly, and we climbed all the difficult sections in this style.”

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Been There, Done That

“The first time I saw the north face of Table Mountain, I got pulled over for driving too slowly.”

— Ben Hoste

Sometimes a quote just resonates with me, like this one from a report about a recent route near Tucson, Arizona. I definitely can relate: Although I’ve never been pulled over by the cops for scoping while driving, my wife sometimes insists on taking the wheel when we drive up or down a rock-lined canyon, because I can’t keep my eyes on the road!

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The Power of Youth

For climbers of a certain age, like me, it can be astonishing to see the strength and motivation of younger climbers—and to remember that, way back when, similar strength resided in our own legs and lungs. The new AAJ reports three long new routes and a significant repeat by Sam Boyce and partners in the remote and rugged Picket Range of the North Cascades—where brutal two-day approaches are the norm—all during the span of a single month last summer.

Sam Boyce on top of East Twin Needle in the Southern Pickets after the first ascent of the north buttress. The 4,000-vertical-foot Mongo Ridge of Mt. Fury’s west summit drops into the valley behind him on the left. Photo by Eric Wehrly.

Boyce, a 28-year-old guide, and Lani Chapko, another guide, first made the third ascent of the Mongo Ridge of Mt. Fury, including the second ascent of the Pole of Remoteness, named because it might be the hardest-to-reach point in the Lower 48. Boyce then paired up with Joe Manning, made another two-day approach into the Northern Pickets, and climbed the 2,000-foot south ridge of Spectre Peak. At the end of July, Boyce and Eric Wehrly climbed the north buttress of East Twin Needle in the Southern Pickets. Boyce and Chapko then returned to the Northern Pickets to climb the 2,000-foot south buttress of Whatcom Peak (likely the first route in that entire cirque). “We only had three days off work—a short window for the Pickets—but we were motivated,” Chapko wrote in the AAJ. She added, “We did the 16-mile approach, with 6,000 feet of gain, in one day.”

Fred Beckey described the Pickets this way: “Although the wild and jagged Picket Range is only 95 miles from the center of Seattle, it remains the most unexplored region in the Lower 48 because of its rugged nature.” Thanks to Boyce and his stalwart partners, it's a little less unexplored now.

South Yuyanq’ Ch’ex

The northwest face of South Yuyanq’Ch’ex in the Chugach Mountains, showing the line of We Fear Change (1,700’, WI4 M4). Photo by Elliot Gaddy.

The relabeling of certain mountains and routes that had troublesome names, though controversial to some climbers, continues to gain traction. In the Chugach Mountains of Alaska, the twin summits once known as Suicide Peaks, visible from Anchorage, were renamed North and South Yuyanq’ Ch’ex last October. At the end of that month, Dana Drummond and Elliot Gaddy climbed a cool new ice and mixed route up the northwest face, calling it We Fear Change (1,700’, WI4 M4). The peaks’ new name is from a Denai’ina Athabascan phrase meaning “breath from above” or “heaven’s breath.” That’s a very beautiful name for a mountain.

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This edition of The Line and the AAJ’s Cutting Edge podcast both are presented by Hilleberg the Tentmaker, which has been making strong, versatile tents for more than 50 years. Visit Hilleberg’s website to order “The Tent Handbook,” their super-informative catalog.

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Adventures with an Impact: Leveraging New Climbing in Arkansas

Photo courtesy of the AR Office of Outdoor Recreation.

An Interview with Arkansas’ Director of the Office of Outdoor Recreation, Katherine Andrews

AAC: Tell us about a moment of joy you’ve experienced being outside in Arkansas recently.

Katherine Andrews: It’s so hard to decide! I grew up in Arkansas hunting, fishing, camping, hiking, biking—anything and everything you can think of outside. Recently, we went trout fishing on the White River in July of 2022. I caught the largest fish I’ve ever caught, a 5 lb Rainbow Trout, with my dad and my husband in our boat. Not only was it cool to catch that big of a fish, but being there with family was even better. The White River is known for its trophy trout fish—we try to take a trip there every summer. 

AAC: Give us some background. Why was the Arkansas Office of Outdoor Recreation created? 

Katherine Andrews, Director of the Arkansas Office of Outdoor Recreation

KA: AR OREC was created by executive order in June of 2021. Arkansas saw incredible growth in outdoor recreation during Covid, some of the highest tourism figures we’d seen to date—and because of that, record investment of millions and millions of dollars in outdoor recreation infrastructure. We saw trails being built, land being conserved for recreation, record visitation…and because AR has a tourism tax, our tourism tax figures were the biggest they had been. We had seen this momentum, and all the states before us that had created these kinds of offices, and we realized we needed to capitalize on this momentum and all the excitement, all of the investment, and try to grow this sector of our economy even more. So therefore, our main mission is to leverage our state's natural assets to grow the outdoor recreation economy. 

AAC: Why would you say outdoor recreation is important in general?

KA: There are tons of benefits, not just for quality of life. We began to see that when the Bureau of Economic Analysis started studying the impact of outdoor recreation on our nation’s economy. The BEA report found benefits for areas with high outdoor recreation—like business attraction, workforce retention, public health and wellness, getting kids outside and off screens, and the conservation of our natural assets. A robust outdoor recreation industry isn’t just nice to have, it's necessary and deeply impactful.

AAC: Can you go into more specifics about AR OREC’s work? 

KA: There are two parts of the state that we serve. First, our industry partners: bike shops, boat manufacturers, river guides, duck lodges, outfitters, technology companies in the outdoors, any kind of outdoor recreation company you can think of. We help them access resources to grow, help them understand their barriers to growth, and help them overcome those barriers.

For example, we met recently with a group of marinas whose parking lots and launch ramps have been flooding a lot this year, so they can’t park or launch their boats. We’re helping them get funding earmarked to build high water launch ramps. This sets us apart from Fish and Wildlife, in that we are helping our outdoor rec industry, with barriers to their success, to in turn help them get more people outside. 

Second, our community partners: towns, counties, and advocacy groups that are hoping to support the growth and access to outdoor recreation. We help them understand the great benefits of outdoor rec on a local economy, and we help them access grants, resources, and other funding so they have more ability to leverage their natural assets and build infrastructure so that they can attract visitors and outdoor recreationists. 

Our main function is 1) connection and collaboration, or getting these groups connected to resources; and 2) promotion and awareness, by promoting and blasting about the outdoor opportunities in AR in general, and what our corporate partners are accomplishing. 

AAC: Tell us about the boom of mountain biking that has happened in Bentonville, AR, and how that story can be a model for creating economic impact through recreation?

KA: Bentonville is the home of the Waltons, who started Walmart. Tom and Steuart Walton are very personally interested in the outdoors in AR, and have utilized the Walton Family Foundation to invest in northwest Arkansas, especially in terms of outdoor recreation opportunities, in order to see NW AR thrive. 

In 2006, they started building mountain bike trails. This was not an overnight boom, 2006 to 2023 is a long time. But they started building a few miles of trail here and there. It was a combination of word of mouth, a little bit of promotion, and over time more and more people started riding, and in turn more trails got built. The Waltons have now created 600 miles of mountain bike trail in NW Arkansas, and over 1,200 miles state wide. The secret sauce in my opinion was that they were very intentional about creating a lot of beginner trails, in addition to the advanced more technical ones. 

You could replicate this model across any kind of outdoor recreation activity. For example, there is still a lot of undeveloped rock in Arkansas, and now the Waltons have been investing in slowly developing rock climbs. As the popularity of the area grows, there will be more investment in infrastructure, and in turn, the area will be able to sustainably handle more climbers. It’s sort of a chicken and the egg kind of scenario, since you need the infrastructure for people to come in the first place, but you likewise need climbers to show interest before you invest in infrastructure. 

Recreationalists, especially climbers, care very deeply about climate and conservation and keeping our wild places wild—so the good thing about creating more climbing infrastructure is that it will not only help the local tax base, but climbers in particular will help maintain the integrity of a place and help ensure its wild places stay that way.

Photo courtesy of the AR Office of Outdoor Recreation.

AAC: Are there any obstacles facing recreationists or the AR OREC? 

KA: Rather than obstacles, I would say there is opportunity. There is especially the opportunity to craft a really good land-use model for climbers and recreationists to interact with public land in a sustainable way. It is better to do it on the front end, instead of seeing a boom in climbing and then creating the plan. So there is more of an opportunity to work with the National Forest Service, for example, building better relationships with them, and working together on permitting and increased access. For us, our primary and overarching challenge is that there is not enough access to the outdoors, and the more that we can get sustainable access and new routes, the more we can grow this infrastructure and support that access. And all of this will help demonstrate the benefits of opening up access, which hopefully will head off any land-use conflicts that might arise. 

AAC: Most climbers are aware of 24 Hours of Horseshoe Hell. How do recreation-focused events like that impact rural economies?

KA: I don’t have the hard numbers, but those events can generate millions of dollars into a local economy. And yes, they occur once or twice a year, but that's still a lot of money that's flowing that wouldn’t be there otherwise. You have to have some level of infrastructure to have those events, but those events also show the need for increased infrastructure at the same time. We help fund a lot of events because it helps shine a greater light on existing opportunities. 

AAC: How would you pitch Arkansas as a destination to visit? 

KA: Arkansas has long been known as The Natural State for a reason—from our scenic views to countless outdoor recreation opportunities ranging from hiking, biking, and floating, to camping, motorcycling, and even hang-gliding. People have claimed we are the mountain biking capital of the world, as well as the trout capital of the world. And we are home to the first national river. But in addition to an incredible amount of hidden gems and natural resources, the people of Arkansas are incredibly welcoming. If you ask anyone, 9 out of 10 times they participate in outdoor activities, and since we pride ourselves on hospitality, we love to help each other out, and connect and introduce visitors to people in the community. Anytime we get visitors they always say it feels like family here. So not only is the climbing and other recreation in Arkansas an undervalued hidden gem, there is also this incredibly welcoming community here that a lot of people find very compelling. 

AAC: Finally, why should climbers partner with other recreationists? How could working with an Office of Outdoor Recreation benefit climbers?

KA: The more people you get outside the more likely they are to conserve land and care about protecting natural spaces. We all have a common goal in mind in getting outdoors and enjoying nature, the more we work together the more we can achieve that. 

There’s an African proverb I like to think about: “If you want to go fast, go alone, if you want to go far, go together.” Ultimately, we are all consumptive users of the outdoors, so we need to contribute to conserving it by partnering together. 

Photo courtesy of the AR Office of Outdoor Recreation.

Climbers of the Craggin' Classics: Rumney

Photo Credit: Leah Gussoff

We’re interviewing a climber from each event in the Craggin’ Classic Series—Rumney, New River Gorge, Devil’s Lake, Smith Rock, Shelf Road, Moab, and Bishop—to take a deep look into the breadth of climbers that come to Craggins, and how they make the most of each unique event.

Read on to hear from climbers just like you, and their take on the things that matter to climbers.

Meet Caper Loomis!

A Rumney Craggin’ Climber

PC: Leah Gussoff

Scroll to read her story…

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2023 Craggin’ Classic Series Supported By

Appeal Aims to Protect California’s Pine Mountain, Reyes Peak from Controversial Logging Project

Reposted from the press release of Los Padres ForestWatch

Conservation groups filed an appeal on September 19th in the 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals to cancel a controversial logging and vegetation clearing project atop Pine Mountain and Reyes Peak in Southern California’s Los Padres National Forest.

The appeal seeks to protect a remote ridgeline important to Indigenous groups, climbers, hikers, and other outdoor enthusiasts concerned about the future of this popular forest. In 2022, a coalition of conservation organizations filed lawsuits against the Forest Service on the grounds that the logging and chaparral clearing project would violate environmental laws, harm vulnerable wildlife, and do irreparable damage to the ecology of the forest.

“This logging project would devastate some of the most diverse and unique habitats in the Los Padres National Forest,” said Hans Cole, vice president of Environmental Activism at Patagonia. “Pine Mountain is 90 minutes from our headquarters in Ventura and the area is important to our employees and customers because of its outdoor recreation opportunities including rock climbing, hiking and camping. We will continue advocating for more conservation of Los Padres National Forest.”

The appeal seeks to overturn a U.S. Forest Service decision to cut mature trees and grind native chaparral across 755 acres on Pine Mountain. The project area — equivalent in size to 575 American football fields — is on ancestral lands of the Chumash, who call the mountain ‘Opnow. It is historically and culturally important to Indigenous people, popular with locals and tourists for a range of recreational activities, and home to old-growth conifer forests and unique ecosystems.

“Commercial logging and other activities allowed under the Reyes Peak Project would do irreparable harm to vulnerable wildlife and pristine areas of the forest,” said Maggie Hall, Deputy Chief Counsel at the Environmental Defense Center. “This appeal is critical to protect this beautiful natural place and prevent logging companies from exploiting a sacred cultural site.”

“Today’s appeal seeks to hold the Forest Service accountable for exploiting loopholes, disregarding public input, and threatening irreparable damage to one of our region’s last remaining mature and old growth forests,” said ForestWatch executive director Jeff Kuyper. “We are asking the Ninth Circuit to set aside this dangerous approach that places our forests, our climate, and our communities at risk.”

The U.S. Forest Service approved the logging and clearing in 2021 amid widespread criticism, with more than 16,000 people opposing the project. Indigenous groups, ecologists, archaeologists, retired U.S. Fish and Wildlife and Forest Service scientists, local business owners, dozens of conservation organizations, elected officials, and others requested major changes to the project and an environmental review before moving forward. Most commenters were concerned about using heavy equipment to cut large, healthy trees, possibly using a commercial timber sale. Forest Service officials dismissed these concerns and did not make any changes to the project.

“Most of the current science finds that removing trees from forests creates a hotter, drier, and windier microclimate that actually increases overall severity in wildfires,” said Dr. Chad Hanson, forest ecologist with the John Muir Project of Earth Island Institute.

“The climbing areas and landscape at Pine Mountain deserve to be protected and preserved in order to allow future generations to discover and enjoy the many recreational opportunities the area offers,” said Byron Harvison, Director of Policy and Government Affairs at The American Alpine Club. “Pine Mountain's storied history in local climbing lore, as well as its unique topography and biology, deserve a closer analysis before the terrain is changed forever.”

Last year the groups sued the Forest Service in U.S. District Court, saying the project would violate environmental laws, harm vulnerable wildlife, and damage intact roadless areas in the forest. The groups alleged violations of the Healthy Forests Restoration Act, National Environmental Policy Act, Roadless Area Conservation Rule and National Forest Management Act. In July a federal judge ruled against the groups and allowed the project to proceed.

“Pine Mountain represents a uniquely special environment for its high elevation ancient conifers, its views to our offshore islands, and its variety of recreation opportunities,” said Keep Sespe Wild conservation director Alasdair Coyne. “Logging these old growth conifers will do nothing to protect homes from forest fires, as there are no buildings for miles around.”

“Pine Mountain includes some of Southern California’s last remaining roadless areas, including beautiful old-growth forests that provide crucial wildlife habitat,” said Justin Augustine, a senior attorney at the Center for Biological Diversity. “These forests deserve to be protected, not logged. We’re relying on the appeals court to stop this reckless project.”

Groups filing the appeal are Los Padres ForestWatch, Keep Sespe Wild Committee, Earth Island Institute, and American Alpine Club, represented by the Environmental Defense Center; and the Center for Biological Diversity, California Chaparral Institute, and Patagonia Works, represented by the Center for Biological Diversity.

How to Climb in Hueco

Photo by: Dawn Kish

By Sierra McGivney

Down in southern Texas, where tumbleweeds and cacti rule the desert, lies a bouldering mecca with a rich history and hundreds of problems waiting for you to climb.  With 300 days of sun and perfect holds carved into boulders, Hueco Tanks State Park has it all.

"It's a wonderland of boulders bristling with positive micro-flakes and peppered with gaping huecos; it's enormous roofs, vein-bursting traverses, and pleasant mantle-free topouts; it's joyful jughauls, cerebral sequences, and impossible-looking problems that go." —John Sherman, Hueco Tanks Climbing and Bouldering

Highballs, Crimps, and Huecos, Oh My!

Hueco Tanks is the birthplace of the V grading system, the Yosemite of bouldering if you will. Climbers can find trad and sport climbs here, but they are few and far between. Hueco Tanks is the quintessential bouldering destination.

PC: Michael Lim

As Todd Skinner said in Desert Dreams, "This place is brutal. [But] if your elbows hold together and the tendons of your fingers hold together, then you'll leave Hueco stronger than you've ever been."

Hueco has a range of bouldering from V0 to V15. If you're just starting or looking to get stronger in the offseason or just love bouldering, Hueco Tanks is for you. Better Eat Your Wheaties, a V9 boulder problem, is an overhung crimp marathon that won't leave you missing your gym's moon board. If you love highball bouldering, The Maiden V0 is the must-climb highball—topping out at 35 feet; you won't want to look down. You are visiting Hueco, so you'll want to climb some of the world-famous holds: The Ghetto Simulator V2 follows an incredible line of chalked huecos up to a crux finish. Be warned, this climb may be greasy because of its popularity. 

North Mountain alone has 850 problems, so there are hundreds of options, grades, and climbing styles at Hueco. For more information about climbing in the area, check out the essential bouldering guide by Matt Wilder and Jason Kehl from the AAC Library. 

"I have traveled the world and have yet to see a place superior to Hueco Tanks in problem concentration or one that better embodies the inexplicable desire to progress that all climbers share. Hueco's rock quietly urges you to come closer, to take a look under all the roofs, touch the holds, and somehow gives you the audacity to try things you would never have dared before." —Scott Milton, Hueco Tanks: The Essential Guide to America's Bouldering Mecca

Training

Training is an important tactic for a successful and fun climbing trip. Since you'll be visiting Hueco during the winter months, you'll want to begin training in August or September. Next, you'll want to focus on a goal for your trip. Hueco is known for having lots of different climbing styles, so the more you narrow it down, the better. As there are hundreds of problems with varying levels of difficulty and style, you can get as specific as training for roof climbing V5 and up, or you can leave it as open as wanting to climb all of the highballs in the park—either way, you can build a solid base to be prepared for any type of climbing you'll come across in Hueco.

PC: Dawn Kish

Porphyritic syenite is no stranger to wearing down, and you are bound to find a few polished climbs. Train to improve your body tension and get good at using tiny feet. Hueco's classic and popular climbs have seen a lot of people and tend to be slippery, so improving both tension and foot placement will go a long way. 

Even if techy vertical walls and boulders call your name, improving roof skills will benefit your climbing at Hueco. Focus on strengthening your core and legs. If you have yet to explore climbing on a roof, practice heel hooks, toe hooks, and knee bars at your climbing gym. 

The last thing you'll want to focus on is power endurance. That might sound a bit out of place since bouldering requires only a handful of moves, but chances are you'll be throwing yourself at a boulder problem repeatedly. You'll want to be able to try moves all day until you send or collapse, so building up endurance should be in your training plan.

For a deeper dive into training, check out Power Company Climbing.

Pictographs and Problems: A Brief History

All aspects of Hueco are deeply rooted in a rich cultural history. Hueco Tanks is part of the Chihuahua desert ecoregion, the largest desert in North America. Though evidently known to climbers as an epic bouldering location, Hueco Tanks is also home to deeply important historical artifacts and a sacred site for several Indigenous cultures. The human history of Hueco spans thousands of years, possibly starting about 10,000 years ago, and the pictographs and petroglyphs there tell the story of many—they continue to be an important part of this sacred site for the Kiowa, Mescalero Apache, Comanche, and Tigua (or Ysleta del Sur Pueblo) tribes, who use the site for prayer and gatherings.

PC: Dawn Kish

The history that weaves together Hueco Tanks, making it such a unique place to climb, was a point of friction between the route establishers and the park rangers in the past. John "Vermin" Sherman arrived in the early 1980s, establishing over 400 classic boulder problems and the "V" rating system. 

"Along with great friends like Donny, Hardin, Chris Hill, and others, we got to develop the finest bouldering on the continent," says John Sherman in Hueco Tanks: The Essential Guide to America's Bouldering Mecca.

The act of bolting was illegal in the park until 1989, and since the park is mostly bouldering, this didn't prove to be a problem until Todd Skinner showed up, ready to bring challenging sport climbing to Hueco. 

Skinner spent winters climbing at Hueco Tanks, floating between campgrounds and friends' houses, and spent summers developing routes all over the world. He was known especially for the first free ascent of the Salathé Wall in Yosemite with Paul Piana in 1988. As time passed, he rented apartments or homes, becoming a hub for climbers. 

According to the article "When Legends Die, the Changing Face of Hueco Tanks," Skinner and friends would bolt routes at night, erroneously arguing that there was a loop-hole in the Park’s no-bolt rule—bolters had to be caught in the act, or such was Skinner’s interpretation. When morning rolled around, the route was legal to climb. In this way, Skinner put up Legends (5.13a) in 1987. 

PC: Michael Lim

The park rangers were not a fan of this, because Skinner and others were trespassing in order to use this supposed “loop-hole,” and clearly not acknowledging the spirit of the prohibition on bolting. After an unknown climber got caught bolting, the park banned rope climbing for three weeks in 1988. Tensions continued to rise as Hueco became a well-known destination for climbing in the 80s and 90s. But climbers were not the only user group putting pressure on this fragile environment. Between rowdy parties, destroyed vegetation, and defacement of the historic pictographs, Hueco couldn't handle the influx of visitors—hikers, tourists, locals, and climbers—and their impact on the landscape. Beginning September 1, 1998, reservations would be required to enter the park.

As climbers and the Park settled into these new ethics of engagement, Hueco climbing continued to make a name for itself as a unique destination and community. Skinner, Amy Whisler, Carol Gogas, and John Gogas purchased the land currently known as Hueco Rock Ranch in 1991. They built the Ranch to be a communal space for climbers, much like the early days of his rented apartments and houses. The kitchen and common room were made to be the center of the house. Everything was built around housing a community of climbers. 

"We soon understood that what most affected the quality of each day was not the climbs we chose but the people we chose to climb with. This led to a Utopian experiment of building a home a mile from the park to house a carefully chosen core of great people, many of whom also happened to be great climbers," reflects Todd Skinner in Hueco Tanks: The Essential Guide to America's Bouldering Mecca.

PC: Dawn Kish

In 2000, Rob Rice took over the Ranch and added a guide service to the property. After more than a decade of ownership and management, Rice relocated out of state. In May 2012, The Access Fund went under contract to purchase the Ranch and assigned the property to the American Alpine Club for long-term ownership and management.

 Skinner's vision of a home for climbers in Hueco would continue, but in a new form.

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How to Climb in Hueco: A Checklist

Feeling inspired to wrestle some sandstone pebbles in the Tanks? Here's some beta worth following–ensuring you are prepared for your trip. 

PC: Dawn Kish

• Plan your reservation. 

• The daily entrance fee into Hueco Tanks State Park is $7; the park is open from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. October through April. A note for check-in: The office closes a half hour before the park closes. Reservations are required to minimize our impact on the park because of the fragile desert landscape and ancient pictographs and petroglyphs. 

• Reservations go fast during the weekend but stay relatively open during the weekdays. Your safest route is to book as far in advance as you can. If you forget to reserve a pass, you can show up at the park as it opens and try to get a walk-in pass. 

• To make a reservation to climb in the self-guided area, call (512) 389-8911. North Mountain is in the self-guided area of the park. A 15-minute orientation video is required for visitors to watch if they are venturing into the self-guided area. Don't worry; once you've watched it, you are good until next year.

• A guide service is required to access the East Mountain, East Spur, and West Mountain. You can request a tour through the park by calling (915) 849-6684. Another option is going through one of the local guide services listed below:

  Blue Lizard Climbing & Yoga

  Sessions Climbing

  Wagon Wheel Co-Opt

• Pack a Skin Kit

•  Items to include but are not limited to are nail clippers, a roll of tape, a finger file, and nontoxic glue. "The bloody flapper is the official injury of Hueco Tanks," according to John Sherman.

PC: Hueco Tanks: The Essential Guide to America's Bouldering Mecca by John Sherman

• Mind the Heat & the Cacti

• Bring sunscreen. More sunscreen. Maybe even a hat. Even in the winter, the desert sun can be intense. The average temperature in January is 44 degrees Fahrenheit, with the first freeze in mid-November and the last freeze in late March. According to the Mountain Project page for Hueco Tanks, "After mid-April, it's hot as sin."  

• The plants here are no joke; most are out to maim you. See the provided excerpt from John Sheman's Hueco Guidebook. 

• Grocery stores

• The closest grocery store is The Montana Vista Market in Homestead Meadow South.

• If you're driving through El Paso to Hueco, you can stop there for grocery and gear stores.

• Brush Up on Your Outdoor Ethics

• As John Sherman said in his 1995 edition of Hueco Tanks Climbing and Bouldering, "Hueco Tanks is not an amusement park created for climbers." It's up to us to preserve and keep Hueco open to climbers. Leave No Trace includes not using social trails, brushing your tick marks, and never climbing on or near petroglyphs.

• Some bouldering areas have been closed due to their proximity to petroglyphs. Read more about how to identify petroglyphs and which rocks to respectfully steer clear of climbing—>in this article. James Lucas covers a new app that allows climbers and other recreationists to check rock formations for faint petroglyphs, and to learn about their significance and meaning!

PC:Dawn Kish

• Book Your Lodging and Meet New Climbers

• If you plan on climbing in Hueco Tanks, the Hueco Rock Ranch is the best place to stay. The Rock Ranch is a 4-mile drive to the Park and offers a range of accommodations from private rooms to campsites. Costs vary depending on lodging type and your AAC member status.

• The Ranch has three options for accommodations: A house with private or shared rooms, camping for two people to a site, and flat spots for "road-tripping machines." The barn is a communal cooking area with a lounge, games, and books. There are showers available for $1 for 4 minutes.

• Well-behaved dogs are allowed at the campground but not in the bunkhouse.

• Prices are as follows: Non Member / Member

  Private Bunk Room: $75 / $40

  Communal Bunk Room: $45 / $25

  Camping: $10 / $6 per person

• Make A Wifi Plan and other Hueco Rock Ranch Logistics

• If you are a work from home nomad and plan on answering emails or taking meetings, Wi-Fi is available, but it has a limited bandwidth, so it might be worth bringing another internet source. The water is potable, but the Ranch relies on water delivery, so please bring your own water! If you're just trying out bouldering or don't own a crash pad, they are available to rent for $15 for the first day.

• There are both trash and recycling bins at the ranch.

• The Hueco Rock Ranch season is from November 17, 2023 - March 10, 2024.

• Have A Rainy Day Plan

• Hueco is a desert, but it does occasionally rain. Hueco Tanks State Park has recently instituted a new rule that prohibits climbing until 24 hours after a rain event. Learn more at the Park’s website.

PC: Dawn Kish

• Train Creatively

• Get prepared to utilize a lot of body tension and creative foot beta. Seek out those boulders in the gym or locally that teach you a thing or two about toe hooks, bicycles, and knee scums. 

• Dream Up a Tick-List, and Then Be Ready to Abandon It

• There are hundreds of boulders; keep your mind open and be willing to try anything. You never know which boulder will kick your butt.

• Bouldering at Hueco is PHYSICAL—plan for rest days.

• Bring books or games.

• Explore El Paso (40 minutes) or White Sands National Monument (1.5 hours). 

• Visit the Ysleta del Sur Pueblo Cultural Center Museum and learn about the extensive history and culture of the Ysleta del Sur Pueblo tribe, who continue to revere Hueco Tanks as a sacred site for prayer and gatherings.

• If you can line these up with rainy days, you're golden.

• Keep an eye out for the Hueco Rock Rodeo!

  • The pebble-wrestling competition of your dreams. Coming back to Hueco February 16-18th, 2024.

Grab a bouldering pad and set off on a winter climbing adventure where the sun always shines and the accommodations are the best around. Reservations are now open for the 2023-2024 Hueco season!

PC: Dawn Kish

**This article is undergoing edits thanks to community feedback.

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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

Watch the trailer for the upcoming film: El Valle De Silencio

Learn More about Erik Weihenmayer

Learn More about Felipe Tapia Nordenflycht

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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.

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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.

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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!

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