You're Welcome

I'm going away for the week, doing a series of skiing photos around Colorado. I'm excited to get away for a bit. So, here's a photo of a leaf hanging on a spider web from Indiana to tide you over for a while. You're welcome. 

Sometimes It's Not Perfect

The last couple of months have been great for my adventure needs; I've gotten out and done something adventurous every weekend since the end of October! This summer I had been feeling, well, adventureless. I know, I went to Peru and had an epic, but besides that I don't feel like I did anything really awesome. I got out and climbed around Colorado, and I did get to raft the South Platte river which lightened my spirit quite a bit, but all  of that wasn't enough. Spending two consecutive weekends on Long's Peak was a great start to what I hope will continue to be an adventurous year.

Last weekend I got out for my dose of adventure, but both jaunts into the wild were less than ideal - I'd even say disappointing.

Besides climbing Dreamweaver at the beginning of November, with zero ice on the route, I haven't gotten out to ice climb yet this year. Disappointing. Friday I finally got out with Matt Lloyd, excited to get into some good water ice in Vail, but we decided to go to Officer's Gulch instead, mostly because it's slightly closer. You can see the Shroud from I-70 and it usually looks quite fat. The approach is a ten minute walk on a flat bike path, about as easy as it gets in Colorado without rapping into the Ouray Ice Park. 

The Shroud was not looking particularly fat as we approached. What is usually one very solid slab of blue water ice was nearly two separate pillars of dripping chandelier ice. Dripping. The temperature is flirting with 0ºF and the ice is dripping! Not a little but showering you as you climb, making it almost impossible to look up, soaking your climbing gloves making your fingers unusable, and finally freezing to every part of your outer shell making you an icy coat of armor. You start an ice screw into the chandelier ice and feel it sink hollowly in with little resistance, not inspiring confidence in it's ability to catch you if you fall. Hanging off your tools with hands that are beyond numb, forearms unbelievably pumped, and feet slipping off the featureless ice you will yourself to continue. It's easier to go up.

On top of the first vertical section snow gathers on the low angle shelf, your ice tools tear through a layer of unconsolidated ice that starts to avalanche on top of you. You push that aside and get a solid foot, relaxing a bit as you make your way to the second tier of vertical ice. This time, as you swing your ax into the ice it shatters all around, breaking off and exposing the granite beneath. You lightly pick at the ice to create a hole strong enough to hold you but not too deep, but your tool is dull from dry tooling, refusing to sink into the hole. You inch higher, kicking your crampons into columns of ice you could reach both hands around. Your last ice screw is full of ice and won't start. It's useless. You have to just push through to the anchors. As you lower back down what you just ascended you think to yourself, "man, I love ice climbing!"

Suffice to say, the conditions of the ice on the Shroud were less than optimal. Matt and I did a couple of laps each, I ran up a mixed route to practice dry tooling, and we headed home. Not a lot of climbing for the hour and half drive.

Lee pulls off the skins from his splitboard, preparing to ride down what looked like great snow

Sunday I head out with my buddy, Lee France, to check out Hoosier Pass for some backcountry skiing. We picked it because we could get there without getting on I-70, which is always choked with traffic on the weekend. Hoosier Pass is just south of Breckenridge on highway 9, and surrounded by 14ers, Lincoln and Quandary. It's been snowing a decent amount this early season so we thought that in the least it would be skiable. We skin up the trail for two hours debating where to ski. Do we drop over the north side into the bowl or stay below the treeline and ski down to the reservoir on the south side? Lee is a cartographer for National Geographic, and he created a map showing the angles of the faces that would be susceptible to avalanches. The danger above the treeline was considerable so we elected to ski down to the reservoir in the trees. We take two turns in moderately good powder (woo...) and the mountain says, "That's all you get!" We're stopped. The snow on low angle will barely slide under my skis. We wallow over to the a steeper gully and every turn is greeted by the equivalent of nails raking down a chalk board: rocks. There's little more than a couple of inches over some of them. At one point I just am sliding down a granite slab with less than an inch of snow under me. We've been beaten. Reluctantly I take my skis off. I believed longer than Lee, he was already stumbling down the mountain, falling in the scree, with his snowboard in his hands. The snow hides the inconsistencies of the route you choose, one step you're on a rock, your knee against your chest, the next  you sink to your waist and fall over. Every step comes with a curse under your breath. This. is. awful.

We put our skins on at the bottom and ready ourselves for another two hour trip back up the mountain to where we started. We're on residential roads, passing empty, expensive summer cabins. A couple cars pass us. I wanted to stick my thumb out, but I didn't. This is why we get our right? For the exercise? I think about how heavy my skis and boots are and how badly I want a much lighter Dynafit set up. Every step I take, with each foot I'm dragging an extra 12.5 pounds. I think about how many steps I've taken. How much does that mean I've lifted today? I don't want to be - I want to be a machine - but I'm a baby when it comes to carrying weight uphill. I'll blame it on the 26 years of living at the grand elevation of 900ft or less. I just keep repeating to myself, "this is training. I'm getting fit. This is training. How the hell am I supposed to keep up with the athletes I'm shooting?"

Not every adventure is grand, and not every one is a success. This day was definitely not a success. But on to the next! Also, pray for snow! Do the snow dance. Do something. I want amazeball snow. Maybe I shouldn't expect that in Colorado. 

Running with Rhiannon

At the beginning of November I did a quick running shoot at the Flatiron Vista trail with Rhiannon McClatchey. We met a little bit too late and only got a few shots in before the sun dropped below the Flatirons. Lesson: projected Sunset Times do not take mountains into consideration. But it was a beautiful fall day and I was just happy to be out. I love all the trails in front of the Flatirons. So beautiful.

Gear Review: Scarpa Crux Approach Shoe

I originally got the Scarpa Crux Approach Shoe for a lifestyle photoshoot with JJ Yosh in Eldorado State Park last spring, but they've turned into my go-to approach shoes. 

The Crux is incredibly comfortable and quite hardy. I really got my first chance to put them to the test in Peru this summer. I climbed the almost 20,000 foot peak, Alpamayo, in July. The approach from the trailhead is nearly 20 miles including 9,000ft of elevation gain. The great majority of steps were taken in these shoes, and I hardly noticed them (hardly a bad thing) until I put on my 6000m mountaineering boots. Then, I just wanted to have the Crux's back on my feet. 

The footbed is comfortable the toe box is wide enough that my feet don't feel squished at all (a problem I have with a lot of approach shoes). The laces, especially at the front of the shoe, allow a lot of control over the fit because of Kevlar reinforced webbing. The rubber is sticky and I feel secure on most rocks I smear up on the approach. Climbing 5.8 slab in them is slightly unnerving, but I didn't slip once.

Coming off of Alpamayo I couldn't wait to put on the Crux's and for the hurried hike out, covering the 20 miles from the glacier camp back to the trail head in half a day, my feet only hurt because of my mountain boots.  Even after all of that wear these are still the approach shoe I grab when heading out the door, and after eight months of heavy use they are still holding together (in comparison to a lot of approach shoes I see that really fall apart). 

Check out some more of the shots from the lifestyle shoot with JJ. 

Chris Schulte for Five Ten in Lower Dream Canyon

Last month I got out with Chris Schulte in Boulder Canyon to take some photos on two scenic problems he wanted to feature. Dream Canyon is a beautiful area that branches off from Boulder Canyon and goes up behind Boulder Falls. The rock is higher quality and the remote atmosphere makes you feel like you're much further from civilization than you actually are. Lower dream canyon has some great boulder problems that are just off of the creek.

Chris climbed an unnamed arete on the backside of the Freedom Boulder that he'd always loved. It's a bit of a highball that doesn't have a great landing, but the problem itself is not too hard.

Chris Schulte climbing an arete on the backside of the Freedom Boulder

We continue up the creek and scramble across wet slab to get to the next boulder, Black Hatchet. The flood waters of the Boulder's great 100 Year Flood had just started to recede, so the creek was running quite high. Black Hatchet is easier to get to when the creek is frozen, but it's a beautiful problem with great views up into Upper Dream Canyon.

Chris Schulte swinging on Black Hatchet with the high waters after the Boulder Flood roaring beneath him. 

Climbing Out of Climbing Injuries

A blog post that I wrote for eldoradorockclimbing.com and coloradocrackgear.com earlier this fall.

It happens way too often; that dreaded "Pop" of a tendon when you're getting burly on that microcrimp on your boulder project you've been desperate to send for months; that one time the you just miss the crash pads on the high ball; or all your placements zipper when you take the unexpected whipper on that nasty trad line. If you climb long enough you will get injured, some more seriously than others. I have had my own fair share - or plenty more than my fair share.

What do you do when you're injured? How do you cope, how do you recover? For me, when I'm injured all I can think about is getting back on the rock. Can getting on too soon encourage recovery or damage you more? In my unprofessional opinion, play it smart.

An overview of some injuries and recoveries:

The Arm Bulge
In 2005 I took close to a 40ft whipper on a sport route at Torrent Falls in Red River Gorge. Somehow in my falling my arm got caught between my knot and my safety knot in the rope. When the smoke had cleared and I was lying limp at the end of the rope, my partner thought me dead. The "loose" loop in the rope had caught and stretched tight enough to squish my right triceps, permanently separating it into two sections connected only by scar tissue.

My first major climbing injury

Sitting at the specialist's office a month and half later I asked if I could do pull-ups. "I guess that would be good for it?" was the response. Sweet. I can climb! It took me several months to get back to full strength, but the deformation of my arm does not hamper my climbing at all. Lesson: Tie your safety knot as close to the main knot as possible, or, as I do, do the Yosemite Finish.

The Non-Climbing Injury that Ends Climbing
The dreaded injury that had nothing to do with climbing but keeps you out for months: I was skiing in the trees at Beaver Creek and hit a buried rock that sent me superman-ing into a boulder field. While my brain was screaming "Protect the head", I stuck my arm out to brace for impact. My right shoulder  received such jar that I couldn't use it to climb for over two months...and I tried. And I kept hurting it. It took nearly six months for my shoulder to heal completely, though I was climbing hard before it did. Lesson: Stop doing stupid things that impact your climbing. Side note: get health insurance!

The Back Breaker
"Onsight it! You can do it! It's a Jughaul!" Although I was pretty inexperienced at Trad I thought, what the hell, this one is just my style. I jumped on the Kloof in Eldorado canyon, and without thinking about my gear placements or the fact that I should think about my gear placements I started swinging up the overhanging route. I was sport climbing. I had no worries. I got a little bit off route then made a big throw for a hold. "Eh, not good enough" I thought, and I let go. I LET GO! Pop! Pop! In 30 feet I'd placed only two Camalots, and both of them failed. I hit the ground, amazingly on the flat ground between two large rocks that would have wrecked me.

Rocky Mountain Rescue taking good care of me

After falling 30 feet onto my back I came away with only a compression fracture in my T11 vertebrae and a fracture in my 5th metacarpal in my right hand. Lucky. Beyond Lucky. After a rescue from Rocky Mountain Rescue and hours in the emergency room I walked out on my own two feet. Amazing.

getting the deluxe treatment across South Boulder Creek by the Rocky Mountain Rescue

I wore a back brace for a month and half. It was so frustrating being restrained, and well, not being able to climb. I swam most days to stay active. After the six weeks I was cleared for moderate activity. "Nothing that could impact you, like climbing or skiing." I'm not very good at listening. I started climbing in the gym, gingerly at first, only top roping and climbing nothing over 5.10. I knew my climbing ability and knew there was very very little chance of me getting an impact from climbing on jugs. But, beyond any kind of better judgment I went skiing after only a week of having the brace off. (I missed all of the epic powder days we had in the Colorado Spring Season...I was desperate) Lesson: Really, I learned  too many things from this than I can write here, but number one - When you're climbing Trad, climb trad. It's not sport, it's not bouldering. It's Trad. It's a different mindset and needs to be treated as such. 

Recovery

Ok, it's clear I've had my some mishaps. And I've learned a LOT! Onto a safe future. But the point of this post is about recovery. How do you recover from injuries? This last accident, I feel like I did it right. Five months later I'm full strength and feeling good. After I got hurt I didn't just lie around. I did what I could to stay active. With the broken back, swimming was perfect. It's a full body workout that is non-impact. When I got out of my brace I climbed very cautiously, not with the intent of sending hard, but with recovering well. I let my body be the canary in the mine. If it hurts, stop! Immediately. Don't push yourself until you're healed. Your body is telling you it's too much. (For the shoulder injury I didn't listen, I tried to push through and it only got worse).

Know your limits. I'm a 5.12(ish) climber. I know I can comfortably climb 5.10 without risk of hurting myself, especially in the soft gyms of Boulder. If you're a 5.10 climber, climb only 5.8's. Be smart. Stay active. Don't let your injury just couch you. If you can't climb at all, work your core, lift weights, do whatever you can to stay active. The worst thing you can do is let your body become lethargic.

I'm no doctor and I'm only recounting this from personal experience, but I think in the long run you're body heals better when you push it to recover. You assist it and encourage it to be stronger. I think my back injury, my shoulder, injury, my arm etc, will bother me less as I age than someone who broke their back and lies in bed for twelve weeks.

Consult your doctor, then know they are being conservative.

Gear Review: Dynastar Cham 97 - All Mountain Ski

The first pair of skis I ever bought myself were a pair of twin tipped fatty pow skis from Bluehouse. They were amazing; I'd never experienced a ski like it. That's not saying a lot. Since I was three I grew up skiing on whatever hand-me-down came my way. I ripped on 195cm skinny skis from when I was tall enough to reach their tips. But, truly, these Bluehouse Maestro's were FUN!! They were playful and responsive. They were great to jump on, fun to carve on groomers, and amazing in deep powder. I didn't know it could get any better!

I did recognize one their weaknesses, but I had no idea of the extent: Crud. I got bounced around like a rag doll, precisely because of why I enjoyed them. They were too playful and couldn't power through rough, choppy, end-of-the-day-on-a-Colorado-powder-day crud. Before last season I got a job selling skis at Boulder Ski Deals. Needless to say, I learned a LOT about skis I never knew before. I had never realized how soft my Maestro's were until I compared to a lot of skis on the wall.

Hiking Alberta Peak at Wolf Creek Ski Area in Southern Colorado with my Cham 97's on my back

Dynastar's Cham 97's are completely different. They're incredibly stiff skis, especially compared to my Maestro's. These are crud blasters that won't get bounced around by any amount of the rough stuff. They have a unique shape, with a large sidecut, fat tip with lots of rocker, and a flat pin-tail...tail. At 97mm in the waist, 133mm/113mm in the tip/tail and 16m turn radius, these things rip. (Sorry for all the tech talk)

With the 97mm waist and 16mm turn radius, the Cham's are easy to rollover on groomers. I cannot overstate this, they LOVE to turn! You can make the turn anything you want, from long GS turns to quick slaloms. You'll feel stable putting it up on edge. The rockered tip gives you easy turn initiation and grips along the full ski. Though, be warned. This is not a beginner's ski.

Where I've really found the Cham 97's shine is in powder. I've never felt a ski handle like this in the deep stuff. If you were out with me when I discovered this you would have heard a lot of "THIS IS AMAZING!" and "WOO HOO!"'s. The narrower pin-tail stays low in the snow, making it super easy to keep your tips pointed up in the powder, even with your weight more forward. The wide, rockered tips float effortlessly. Making turns in this position is incredibly easy; I felt like I was barely pushing the tails to make grand turns. Skiing the powder was...bouncy. It felt so light and easy to maneuver. In contrast, I always feel like I'm dragging my tails in my Maestro's.

So, in other words, I love these skis; they are fantastic. But that does come with a caveat or two. Jumping can be uncomfortable. No, scratch that. Landing can be uncomfortable, especially on hardpack. Where the Maestro excels in being springy and playful, the Cham's are stiff and unforgiving. The extent to which this matters depends on your skiing style and preference. Secondly, the Cham's are heavy. Weighing in at over 10lbs for both skis, you will think twice about making these part of your backcountry set up. They do come in a High Mountain version that reduces the weight by 25% but sacrifices some of the inbounds performance (this only really matters if you plan on skiing them inbounds).

Not surprisingly, the Dynastar Cham 97 won Outside Magazine's Gear of the Year award in 2013. If you like to charge, ski the entire mountain, and want a ski that can do it all, I highly recommend this one. 

Early Season Wolf Creek Powder Day

It was one of my best powder days in a resort (sad I know, I need to get out more), and it was in mid November!

Saturday morning: "Wolf creek has more than 10" and more is on the way! They're expecting close to 20"! We're heading down tonight if you want to go."

Thomas doesn't give me much of a choice. Eric Thomson and Patrick Shehan fill out the car. We camp just outside South Fork on BLM land which gets us less than 15 minutes from Wolf Creek Ski Area in the morning (instead of a 4.5 hour drive the morning of).

The snow conditions are great, but when we get on the lift we can hear the ski patrol is still blasting the backside for avalanches.

We're in the first wave of skiers on the lift and our first several trips down the mountain give us great powder runs. But the backside remained closed and the frontside quickly gets cut up. We did have an advantage that Patrick lived in Durango for years and knows all the secret stashes of the mountain and took us on some great runs.

Skiing powder is magical. It feels like you're floating, and it's impossible to not have a shit-eating grin on your face the whole time. But when in-bounds powder gets chopped up, it makes for a very bouncy, unfriendly ride. Finally, just after noon we hear Alberta is running.

We rush past the newly opened gates eager to explore. The trees off of the Alberta lift give us fantastic fresh tracks every run.

Thomas Woodson slashing through the powder off of Alberta

Eric Thomson hitting a burm. 

The terrain on the backside is great and varied. The perfectly spaced trees get steep and then mellow out to really fun glades. The steeps have a line of cliffs that Patrick is psyched to jump.

Patrick Shehan hucking a cliff 

We hike from the top of the Alberta lift to Alberta peak, up past windblown trees plastered with ice in whiteout conditions. At the peak the sun moves in and out of the clouds.

White out conditions on the hike up Alberta Peak

At the peak

Even on this trip up Alberta Lift the ski patrol is still blasting around the mountain for avalanches. We look in vain to see where the blasts are located. When we traverse over from the peak of Alberta we hit an avalanche crown two feet deep that continues as far as I can see (which isn't far in the near whiteout conditions). I make my way over the crown and ski tentatively across the debris field which takes me pretty much back to the cat track. That hike was not worth the effort. You win some, you lose some.

Thomas working his way over a two foot crown 

But overall the day was a great success. Thomson ends the day being ejected from his skis for no apparent reason and superman-ing into a snowbank. At least he got a portrait out of it.

Eric's snow beard

I had skied Wolf Creek when I was in high school, with my dad, but I don't remember the conditions. These conditions were incredible. Now, half a week later, I look at all the snow reports for Summit County and none of them even come close to the conditions we had at Wolf Creek, and in November! I'm looking forward to a great season. 

Quick Trip to Shelf Road

Climbing just after dark on the fun LaCholla Jackson, 5.9, at Cactus Cliff. 

Kevin and I had been wanting to take a trip to Shelf Road for a while. We're always talking about doing it, for some reason or another it failed to materialize. Shelf Road is a popular climbing area in the colder months, just outside Cañon City, CO. The white walls in the desert seem to collect the sun, and the average temperature while climbing in the sun is well above that of the surrounding areas. Most of the one pitch routes up limestone cliffs tend to be vertical with sharp pockets but fun movement. 

Frank meets us at the Bank parking lot. For a beautiful Saturday in early November the parking lot is surprisingly unpacked. It's a quick hike to reach the the Cactus Cliff area, one of the most popular in Shelf. There are a few people there, but not the climbing gym madness we were expecting. We warm up on the classic but stout Dihedrous, a dihedral crack that goes at 5.10c but I tend to climb it like it's an 11b. Several more classics go down, and we end the night climbing by headlamp on a fantastic 5.9 called "LaCholla Jackson." 

Frank and Kevin enjoying the campfire. Camping out under the stars is one of the best parts of going to Shelf

We go back to our favorite campsite on BLM land (read "Free") and enjoy the rest of the night.

Some random lifestyle images

Kevin and Whiskey posing so heroically. 

Breakfast from a bag. 

Sunday morning we hike from our campsite in front of the Gallery to Menses Prow, a large cliffline between the Farside and Mural Wall that can be seen from miles away. In the morning it’s fully in the sun. We decide to warm up on The California Ethics Pinnacle, which offers some easy but very aesthetic climbs, and offers us welcome shade since we’d spent the entirety of the day before baking in the sun at Cactus Cliff.

Kevin flaking the rope before Frank climbs the Original Route (5.8) on the California Ethics Pinnacle just off Menses Prow. 

Some stemming action on The Original Route

The California Ethics Pinnacle is a very cool looking rock feature. 

Whiskey so properly keeping watch. 

Kevin climbs "Red Dog" 5.9 on the California Ethics Pinnacle. 

Frank looking contemplative. 

Frank took a photo of me climbing "Slender Fungus" an interesting 5.10c with a second pitch. I apparently didn't continue reading in the guidebook to see that the second pitch goes at a very sandbagged 5.11b. Climbing it in one pitch, I would personally rate it 5.11d. It was stout.

View East from Menses Prow

Cactus at the base of "No Passion for Fashion" 5.11c

Kevin snapped a shot of me climbing "No Passion for Fashion"

We ended a great weekend with a fantastic climb, "No Passion for Fashion" 5.11c. It is definitely one of my favorite climbs at Shelf. With sustained great climbing on a long route, it tops my list.

As always, the weekend ends too early. I can't wait to get back to shelf, and I look forward to uncomfortably warm days in the sun in February on those limestone cliffs. 

Low Wire Crag in Clear Creek Canyon

Sitting below the popular High Wire Crag and, one of my favorites, the Wall of Justice in Clear Creek Canyon is a new crag with some great lines called Low Wire. Kevin Capps bolted this area this summer and has been working on sending all of the routes. The last one is the hardest, a 5.13b?, in a very overhung cave with some big powerful moves.

Kevin Capps climbing The Grizz 5.13b

Two routes, a 5.12a/b and a 5.12c, are just above the river.

Matt Lloyd climbing Groove Town, a very hight-dependent 5.12a

There are routes that range from 5.9+ to 5.13 including a great 5.12a, "Fly Low", which is my hardest flash (climbing a route from bottom to top without falling on your first attempt).

To get out of the area you have to climb a 5.4 slab. Right now there is a rope to assist in your ascent. Low Wire will be included in the new guidebook coming out soon!

Daniel Cornella climbing the 5.4 slab out of Low Wire