Where is she this time?

The High One

2011-05-03T22:52:00.000-07:00

... is a translation of one native name, Denali. Lhawang and I spent the last couple of days packing food and sorting gear for our trip, and are ready to fly on tomorrow with our crew, weather cooperating. The internet at the guide house is down at the moment, so no pictures, but here's the cybercast link, at least. We're Team 2, now only with 5 climbers, one having canceled at the last moment. http://www.alpineascents.com/denali-cybercast.asp

It's raining at the moment, so we'll see if we actually get out tomorrow, or if we spend some time enjoying beautiful downtown Talkeetna. Here goes...

Downtime

2011-04-23T21:21:00.000-07:00

Believe it or not, it's not all glamor and high adventure. Sometimes even mountain guides have to sleep, get over jetlag, recover. So what does one do with a week and a half off?

Well, mostly sleep. And unpack, do laundry, repack, email the expedition team, stop by the office, spend time with one's partner, sort through mail, etc. All the things everyone has to do, just on a compressed time schedule.

We were fortunate enough to have two beautifully sunny days here in the Northwest recently, so we decided to go camping. Yes, camping - not climbing, skiing, scoping a route, or training, just camping. Bellingham has a few small mountains just minutes away with lots of trails and actual designated campspots, so we packed a minimum of gear and hiked up in jeans. Yes, jeans! Laid our sleeping bags out by a small lake, had cocoa and went to sleep, enjoying the quiet and surrounding nature. Woke up, had more cocoa, laid around appreciating that we didn't have to be anywhere, and hiked back down as dayhikers started to arrive on this beautiful Saturday.

So there you have it. In another week I'll be back on a glacier, but for now it's nice to just be here, now.

There and back again

2011-04-16T07:32:00.000-07:00

It's kind of neat to go to a place every 6 months, with different people, different attitudes, different weather, just a chance to see the place in a new time and space and through new eyes.

We had a great trip up the Khumbu Valley, over to see Thame on the way, then up to Everest Base Camp and then up nearby Kala Patar to see where we'd been, and where we weren't going (Everest!). My second trip up in the spring, with all the climbers on the trail and in the tea houses - lots of characters around! Our own Alpine Ascents climbing team seemed like a collection of good people, great to get to know on the way up and usually getting to the evening's destination well before us! Good thing it's not a race...

We got a bunch of snow over the course of two weeks (way better than rain!), which kept the dust down and made things look pretty, and indicated that it was a little colder than last spring. This was validated when we got to our highest tea house and the indoor toilet wasn't working because the underground pipe outside had frozen solid! Ah, the nature of adventure. Fortunately the group was great, with a good sense of... adventure, and an ability to deal with what came our way, knowing it only makes for good stories later. (That's Ama Dablam in the background.)

Additionally, our trekking staff was particularly wonderful - we had the opportunity to ask lots of nuanced questions about culture and experience, see Tsering's parents' home, and just generally connect and have a great time with them. The particular people on each trek tend to change from time to time, but I do hope to have most of the same folks with us again in the fall. We unfortunately had to give up Mingma to accompany one of our group to Island Peak while I continued down with the trekkers. We did hear that Derek summited successfully a couple of days ago, so I guess it was worth it. *grin*

And in a blatant commercial plug, we used a UV-light water sterilization device called a SteriPEN on this trek for the first time, and it worked beautifully. There are many environmental impacts of trekking on this region, and a big one is the use of fuel. Historically there was barely enough wood to support populations living here, but the heating and cooking and water-boiling required by thousands of trekkers puts a huge strain on the amount of kerosene and propane and yak dung (yep) available for fuel. So our local organizer suggested switching to battery power, and NO ONE had any debilitating GI issues! This is pretty unheard-of up in the Khumbu, so that is my testimonial. Pretty cool technology. (We decided these animals moving propane up the trail were called "fuel mules". I call them rocket mules. Either way we hope they don't slip.)

And now we're all on our respective ways back home, with a little time in Kathmandu and lots of hours on planes, heading back to that myriad of things that make it home. A little time for me to unpack, remember what the Northwest feels like, then pack up again and head north...

Katmandu, round 3

2011-03-29T04:08:00.000-07:00

Well, I have to admit that my first two visits to Kathmandu were a little different than I had expected. You hear so many things about this Nepali city that bring to mind the exotic, the timeless, the spiritual. Yet when I first arrived and wandered around for a couple days, it seemed awfully similar to the polluted, chaotic, concrete-filled cities of other Asian towns that have expanded simply by laying more rebar and asphalt.

This time, however, I was goaded into visiting Bhaktapur, a preserved population center on the outskirts of Kathmandu, an area known for its historical buildings and lack of intrusive roads. We got out of the taxi and walked into what I had been envisioning all along.

Narrow streets, tiny doorways, old wood carvings, neighborhood temples, round wells, woodcarving or pottery or cobbler's shops... It is easy to imagine that these buildings, these paths and gathering places, haven't changed much in several hundred years. Stone carvings on temple stairs, rows of bells hanging from the eves, intricate forms hiding in wood in the shadows - all of these things seamlessly and un-selfconsciously a part of daily life

And I have to imagine that the whole of Kathmandu had this air about it when it was "discovered" by the western world in the 70s. In the early 50s, there were no roads that accessed this place from the outside world. (There were cars that had been taken apart and carried in, but you couldn't drive there!) The city in 1970 must have been so incredibly different from the West in ways it simply isn't now. I took a right by the Nike sign and went upstairs to get a 3G modem for my computer this morning. A little different, 40 years later.

But tomorrow we are on the first plane out to Lukla, back to a land that has changed in some ways, but not in others. The mountain trails are still steep and rocky, and yaks and people still carry everything that has to move up and down the valley. Follow the Everest Base Camp trek at www.alpineascents.com/everest-trek-cybercast-spring10.asp

More skiing!

2011-03-23T03:54:00.000-07:00

Well there's more winter, isn't there?

One last trip in home territory before going back to work - into the Baker backcountry for a trip to Mt Ann, a place I haven't been since my second-ever glacier climb up the Fischer Chimneys on nearby Mt Shuksan in 2002. It looks very different in the winter to be sure! A mid-week day with not a lot of new snow meant we saw almost no one, and a bit of a crust from some sunshine meant the travel was easy. Nice.

Up and over the ski area, across some flats, up the flanks to the ridge of Mt Ann (avoiding the skin track set right under a huge cornice being warmed by the sun), and along to the summit, where we deemed the skiing too steep (telemark [v] : Finnish word meaning "ack, it's too steep!") and too icy to be fun, booted up to the top and enjoyed the view before sliding back down on our butts. The greater part of having fun is knowing when to call it.

The skiing down was a little crusty to be really enjoyable, but we made some nice arcing turns and enjoyed being out in the pristine snow and beautiful weather. Sunshine and warmth - it must be spring! The days are getting longer, and we're looking forward to the opportunity for some longer tours.

But for now, I'm off to Nepal, to lead the Everest Base Camp trek for Alpine. Work is great, but it does so get in the way... *grin*

Lizzie Creek Cabin

2011-03-22T18:54:00.000-07:00

Well, Dave wanted to know how I was going to spin this particular trip, because the net result of two weeks in Canada was a whole lot of skinning, hard work, and being soggy, and not so much sunny powder skiing. Yes, it's true. You win some, you lose some.

We were psyched to have a nice long chunk of time off, and lots of terrain we had seen in print and on blogs. 8-to-12-hour approach, cozy little cabin, and tons of alpine terrain of varying aspects and steepness. Sweet!! We took a couple days to organize, pack, and position ourselves just outside Pemberton, BC, about 30 minutes north of Whistler, and parked at the trailhead for the evening after sampling some "Chinese Japanese Canadian Cuisine" at the local Centennial Cafe in town. Equipment, check. Intentions, check. In position, check.

Weather, not so much. We woke to steady rain and couldn't bring ourselves to start uphill, choosing instead to haunt the bakery and library in hopes of finding a region of better weather nearby in time or place. No luck! A powerful low pressure system was spinning warm fronts out in the Pacific that were riding right over all the coastal ranges. We went back to the trailhead prepared to start out wet. Sure enough, on and off showers gave way to the dreaded "snain," part rain, part snow, as we trudged up a logging road toward our destination valley. Lots of incredibly heavy snow hadn't been skied for some time, and the trailbreaking was astonishingly tiring.

8 hours in, we decided to call it for the day and built a snow shelter, half cave, half ski-tent, that served quite well since it wasn't stormy, just snowy. A much-needed rest, as we were still a little tired the next morning continuing up. Another 5 hours, directions that didn't quite match the terrain, and lots more heavy trailbreaking later, we reached the hut. Home sweet home!! Very cozy, and almost entirely covered with the 8-9 feet of snow on the ground and roof, it did have some wood stacked inside that let us finally get dry and warm. Whew! The continued snow and fog led us to spend the next day harvesting dead branches and trees to stock up the firewood supply for the next few days, and excavate an outhouse entrance from under the same huge snowpack.

Time to ski! There can be too much of a good thing, though, and we had it. So much snow that trailbreaking continued to be difficult, and enough clouds and snow to keep us from being able to see anything. All those beautiful mountains and valleys around us, and we can't even see them! The avalanche danger had our attention, too - it was warm and had been snowing continuously for several days. We turned back from an intended tour and took a couple of consolation runs on the slopes above the cabin. Could be fun snow, but soooo much work to use it! Fatigue and increasingly soggy precipitation made for an early afternoon.

Next day, a similar story as we broke trail up the same exact hillside, our previous track completely obscured by snow and wind. We had a few runs and still-dry layers when we called it a day - quite an improvement! The next morning was already day 6, and time to head out. Fortunately, the snow had finally consolidated enough to enable us to actually ski out (instead of breaking train again), and we made good time. We even saw the sun once!

If being all hard-core and outdoorsy requires fortitude and endurance, it also requires knowing when to actively avoid it! We ended up at a great place called The Hitching Post Motel, and highly recommend it to anyone heading north of Whistler. Super nice owners, some nicely renovated rooms, and a perfect kitchenette area to allow for breakfast in bed options. Much needed after six days of being cold and soggy! Slept in, checked out, and hung out in her laundomat to reorganize and regroup. The weather was improving, so we stayed close and drove up to Duffey Lake for two more days of skiing, moving back into truck-camping mode.

This time, the weather and snow cooperated beautifully! Others had set a skin track up before us, the snow was fluffy, and we actually got some sun. Ah, timing. A few more people there, not the complete solitude of a cabin 13 km in, but the backcountry of British Columbia is definitely big enough to accommodate. Lots of natural and triggered avalanches were coming down, and we were more than happy to observe from afar as they set off slides across the highway and then cleared debris from the road. By this time, we were pretty tired from only one day of rest in the last nine, so were grateful to head back home, only a 4-hour drive! So close, just across that border line.

I'm definitely hoping to go back to the cabin again, hopefully when the weather is a little more cooperative. Next time, it would be nice to get something more like this: http://richso.blogspot.com/2011/01/lizzie-creek-new-years.html Ah, well. (Oh, and if it looks like I was shooting in black-and-white, I wasn't, it was just grey out!)

Lots of snow!

2011-02-28T17:43:00.000-08:00

Well, it's supposedly a La Nina weather pattern year, but while we're getting plenty of precipitation, and plenty of it as snow, the freezing level occasionally goes way up and drops some rain, too, so it's not shaping up to be quite as extraordinary as the record-setting winter of 1999.

Still lots of great snow, though! Some of it comes with good visibility, some of it does not. One of the first tours we did when I got back was up by Mt Baker in possibly the most complete whiteout I have ever experienced. We call it being in the ping pong ball - the light scatters and refracts from clouds and snow the same way, making it impossible to distinguish surface water crystals from suspended water droplets. You find yourself in a perfect visual sphere with no orientation, literally impossible to tell whether you're about to bump into a snowbank or have the snow end beneath your feet. Great snow, but hard to ski! Still good to be out, of course.

Next time out, a little better visibility, but we still needed some trees to steer by. So into the Swift Creek woods, just behind the Mt Baker ski area. The snow was amazing, knee deep until you got your telemark turn on... then it became waist deep as we crouched down mid-turn. Heavy enough to ski on top of, light enough to be really, really fun. Telemark is such fun. A little video of some low-angle lovin' - it doesn't have to be steep to be fun...

A few weeks in town, a little skiing and catching up with friends, and suddenly it's time to head up to Canada for a longer ski trip with Dave. There's certainly plenty of snow, so let's hope the weather cooperates, too!

Team Bob addendum

2011-02-15T18:50:00.000-08:00

One of the climbers on Team Bob had enough oxygen capacity left over on the summit to do a little filming. It's a good glimpse of what it might feel like up there... Enjoy!

Team Bob

2011-02-10T10:33:00.000-08:00

Yes, it's true, Bob, you get a whole post! Team 8 was definitely an interesting team, a great collection of easy-going characters that made this trip a good one.

Many changes took place on the mountain in my absence. For one, it had gotten hammered with snow, so the concern for water at the higher camps was alleviated, and upper trails were covered in perfect styrofoam snow, great for cramponing. Additionally, the park (which is a provincial park, not a national one, which might explain some things), in its zeal to be a real park with real rangers and rules, used some of the newfound money from elevated permit fees to station a doctor at the very first camp. So while Matthew made hamburgers for dinner, I sat with the doc while all our people were checked for oxygen saturation, lung sounds, blood pressure, etc. More checks and more structures = a better park, right?

Ahem. Once at base camp (after a second medical check), we settled into carrying loads up the mountain. Lhakpa Gelu joined us at Camp 1, which meant that we had more stories and carrying power added to the team, as well as just an amazing mountain person. Afternoon snowstorms graced us for a few days but didn't cause trouble, and after that we had some great weather and moved up to our Camp 3, most people's camp 2. The forecast was for a couple days of high winds followed by a good period, so we spent an extra day there, gaining a little more rest and acclimatization, then moved up and summarily had our summit day.

A beautiful day, though a little windy at the start, and 6 of 10 folks stood on top with us. Lhakpa took three down who were running out of resources for a continued trip up AND down, and once back at camp we pooled all of our remaining meal resources to have some very flavorful mashed potatoes for dinner that night. But there's no standin for real food, so the next day we gratefully headed down to base camp and the path home. A memorable team, for sure!

Back in Mendoza, I was psyched to enjoy a few more days of watermelon and other fresh summer fruit, but am expecially excited to be back in the Pacific Northwest where there are things like organic lettuce and molasses. Yes, I have odd tastes, but it's good to be back where I can have them! The mountains are wearing some fresh snow, I get to go skiing in the fog with my partner, and it's good to be back.

Up the hill

2011-01-16T19:19:00.001-08:00

Well, the team is here, and so is there luggage - what more can you ask for? We just had a great welcome dinner in the warm Mendoza evening and are headed out tomorrow morning. There's potentially a bit of SAT phone trouble, with a half-charged battery and no compatible charger here, but we'll make it work. Follow Team 8 at http://www.alpineascents.com/aconcagua-cybercast.asp Back soon!

Punta Arenas

2011-01-13T08:51:00.000-08:00

Punta Arenas is the southernmost city on the South American continent, and the place where flights to and from this part of Antarctica are based. (Ushuaia is further south, but on an island, not part of the greater landmass.) Climbers going to Mt Vinson, the highest mountain in Antarctica, fly to and from the ice with the only private company that operates here, Antarctic Logistics and Expeditions or ALE. They have been in business for 24 years and make something as incredibly complicated as operating a base in Antarctica as seamless as showing up at the tip of Chile.

In between my Aconcagua trips, I went down to meet the incoming Vinson climbers for Alpine Ascents and get them ready to fly onto the ice. The two guides who will actually be with them on the mountain stay down to guide two trips because the flight costs about $15,000 round trip, so I act as their proxy guide until they fly. This means I get to see a new part of the world and learn a little more about the whole Antarctic scene while getting to know some new interesting people.

Summer in southern Chile is not quite as balmy as Mendoza. The high most days was around 55, sometimes less, with a warm sun but a cold wind. It's a sea town, but on the east coast of land, along the Strait of Magellan, which is an inland shortcut to avoid storm-lashed Cape Horn. Cruise ships and fishing boats and colorful roofs decorate this grey place where many of the buildings date from 100 years ago and there is an awareness of its distance from the rest of the world. We roamed around town several times daily looking for meals, and spent some time just checking out this place where we would be waiting until it was time to fly.

Various members of the group spent time in the scenic areas of the city, including the expansive local cemetery. We spent an afternoon in this peaceful place filled with memorials big and small to the dead of the last 100 years. Dr Suess-inspired trees were set among some really ornate crypts and monuments and other simpler plots. A beautiful setting, one clearly well-attended by loved ones.

Our other fascinating destination was a full-size replica of Magellan's ship Victoria which originally passed through in 1520 and is being built from the original plans. A local penguin-tour and kayak-rental operator is losing business due to increased competition, and decided to take this opportunity to give shape to his passion. He and a business partner built the frame of local wood, and 6 local carpenters who normally build fishing boats finished the rest of the work. He invited us on board to poke around as we pleased, and we got to see it as one rarely does, without barricades or limitations. It's a small ship, called a nao, that requires 18-40 people to sail. He plans to make his money back from tourists for a few years, and then sailing it in some capacity for fun and profit.

But all is not idyllic in southern Chile. Interestingly, a national government decision to reduce the subsidy on natural gas has caused enough concern in this cold land to spark a series of strikes, the latest of which is an indefinite strike closing down roads into and out of the city, including to the airport. Faced with the possibility of not being able to leave town, I decided to get out while I could in order to make sure I was back for my next Aconcagua trip. Back in Mendoza, I hear from the Vinson climbers that normal delays due to weather are being exacerbated by lack of mobility due to the strike. ALE has its hands full, to be sure! Hope they can get out soon - Punta Arenas is nice and all, but I wouldn't want to spend too much time there...

Half-time show

2011-01-04T16:12:00.001-08:00

Well, at the beginning of this blog, my hair was 1/4" long. Today... (drumroll please) ... I actually put it back in a ponytail. Yes, it's very exciting. It's more of a dish-washing brush than a ponytail at this point, but it is functional. 10 years since the last time - lots of ground in the intervening years. Now, once again, I'll be buying and losing elastic bands with (most of) the rest of the female population. Oh, boy!

Team 3

2011-01-01T13:48:00.000-08:00

... this year on Aconcagua was a great team. Ten people from across the country and globe, tossed together in that mixing bowl we call an expedition team - they were all fun and generous and strong, and on top of that we had fantastic weather almost the whole trip. Unheard of on this mountain!

Things (not big things, just things) are afoot on the mountain. The climbing fees increased from $550 to $800 in the high season, and the park is trying to become a "real" park. New ranger huts being choppered in where previously there was only a stone lean-to, base camp physicians who actually know high altitude medicine (Sebastian was fantastic, docs in previous years less so) - you won't be able to recognize the place in a few years! But there will never (in human time, not geologic time) be another highest peak in South America, so people will continue to come.

When we arrived in Plaza Argentina base camp at 13,800', they had just experienced winds of 100mph which seem to

have generated a freak twister that tore Grajales' facilities apart and nearly nabbed one of Alpine's guides. They had rapidly called in new facilities and supplies (the propane oven was delivered by helicopter while we were there) and our experience was back to normal, pizzas and all. It was still a little windy at base camp, but the rest of the trip was great - just a day or two of moderate winds, otherwise generally quite calm and nice. Sweet!

Christmas day fell on our rest day at 19,200' Polish Camp. We made a little tree out of our ice axes and crampons and decorated it with battery-powered lights and a headlamp. A team of three Canadians who had been next to us much of the trip came by and regaled us with well-rehearsed songs of kazoo, harmonica, and recorder. What a nice touch! It is amazing what communities form in places where people are enduring common hardship. Voluntary, in this case, but true nonetheless.

We moved up to our final camp and had a beautiful summit day, with 6 of 10 of our climbers standing on top. We retreated to camp, then the following day to Plaza de Mulas base camp, and finally enjoyed a little more oxygen. After more wonderful base camp pizza, and a group sleepover in the dining tent (to avoid pitching our own tents) we hiked out in the worst weather of the whole trip, snow and rain for 13 miles to the trailhead. We even saw a small mudslide (rocks the size of pianos!)! But everyone arrived safe and sound back to civilization, and after several showers and remembering how to sit in chairs, we are enjoying the finer points of Mendoza.

Now for a little down time, sorting out budgets and trip reports and laundry and email. I'll be heading down to Punta Arenas to meet the Vinson climbers in a few days, but for now it's nice just to be wearing cotton...

And we're off...

2010-12-11T16:59:00.000-08:00

Well, it's time to head up the mountain. We've spent the past few days here in Mendoza buying and packing food and supplies for the expedition. Everyone comes into town tomorrow, and we head up on Monday.

We have a new cybercast that actually lets you listen to the voicemail we leave - no transcription in the middle. So you get the garbles, the transmission breaks, and the sluggish processing of minds at high altitude. Enjoy!! We're Team 3 at http://www.alpineascents.com/aconcagua-cybercast.asp

And back again

2010-12-07T16:37:00.000-08:00

But in the Northwest, winter has come early. There's plenty of snow to cover up most of the rocks, and plenty of motivation to get out: the dark time is upon us here in the Cascades, and we have to get out, because the alternative is to hibernate. And skiing is really much more fun.

As a side note, my frequent trips between Seattle and Bellingham often involve use of the train, a very pleasant 2-hour ride along the coast for around $29. But this time my skis were already in place, and a mid-day transit made much more sense, so I actually took Amtrak - on the bus. Yes, Amtrak has a fair amount of bus service, and it turns out to be quite pleasant and in duration, for only $20! The buses seem to be contracted private coaches, so they're more like bus travel should be. Highly recommended.

This time we headed up to the snow with a couple other skiers/snowboarders. Between the five of us we had all sorts of snow travel combinations, so the bigger-the-group-the-slower-the-travel rule kicked in. A couple miles of logging road, a little tree-dodging, up a couple avalanche chutes (appropriate precautions taken), and finally to the rounded top, Cascade peaks all around. Beautiful.

Of course, there's still the down, and we ended up skiing the last of the logging road in the dark (which is not recommended). The two dogs with us had worked much harder over the day, being without skis in unconsolidated snow, and were possibly happier than we to see the trucks when we finally reached them. As a climbing partner once said: Any day where no one gets hurt is a good day in the mountains.

Good to get one last dose of snow before heading south. As I write this (belatedly), it is currently dumping again in the Cascades. Two feet of forecast snow, followed by a warming trend and heavy rain. A recipe for unstable snow, and a good time to be in the Southern hemisphere...

Sunshine tour

2010-11-28T15:57:00.000-08:00

Family previously visited + Climbing partner with time off + Shoulder season + looking for warm weather = Bike tour in California! After some casual scheming, we decided to spend Thanksgiving cycling down the central California coast, basking in the November sunshine.

Just in time, too - a big storm cycle hit the Northwest, and we drove through snow all the way to mid-Oregon! My car got a flat sometime around when we hit completely stopped traffic, so not only did we not lose time, but we also provided some entertainment for other stuck drivers. Of course, the spare was all the way at the bottom of our neatly packed trunk, so off came the bikes and out came the gear. And since it is occasionally a perfect world, traffic got unstuck just as we were packing back up. Sweet!

Our plan was to drive to Monterey, bike down to Santa Barbara, and take the train back. And for a completely un-researched plan, it worked amazingly well. Sometimes it just happens like that. There was free long-term parking at the Amtrak station. We actually cycled the miles we needed to reach Santa Barbara. They had bike boxes requiring little disassembly for purchase there. AND, my car was actually still there when we got back!

The trip itself was great. The Big Sur coast south of Monterey has one 2-lane road and almost no towns, doesn't connect anything to anything. So there was very little traffic and lots of beautiful bluffs and bridges and sandy beaches and hillsides. It was actually pretty quiet most of the time, which was exactly what we were looking for. Pedal, look around, pedal, stop for a snack overlooking the ocean, pedal, wonder if the last bit of land you can see is where we stop for the night, pedal...

After the first few hours of cold wind and rain showers, it was sunny all week. It was, however, also quite cold. Snow in Seattle means quite a cold weather system, which translated to highs in the 50s in Cali, and lows near freezing! Being the seasoned outdoor veterans that we are, we used out bivi sacks and Jetboil and savvy outdoor survival skills to camp in the state parks... once. It was cold! Frost was forming on the top of the picnic table as made dinner. Brr!

So the rest of the time these two savvy outdoor women got hotels, took showers, and actually washed their socks at night. Safeway makes a mean meatloaf and salad for dinner. And we got a much earlier start when we could leave our room at sunrise rather than wait for the warmth of the sun before peeking out of our sleeping bags. Yes, we are wise savvy outdoor women.

South of Big Sur we got to wind through fields and rolling hills and the occasional little town (does San Luis Obispo count as little?) and generally just keep enjoying being outside. Our last stop was just a few miles short of Santa Barbara since we didn't want to get lost and miss our train back. Just over 300 miles in just over 4 days, but a little lopsided, with a couple 45-mile days and a couple 95-mile days. Funny - they didn't seem any longer or shorter, just more or less time spent stopped vs pedaling.

I love the zen of pedaling long miles. (Especially when the hills are mellow.) We drove back without incident, knowing that the perfectly executed trips make up for all those other times...

2010-11-19T12:32:00.000-08:00

SNOW!!!

2010-11-18T21:24:00.001-08:00

Most people have probably heard by this point about how strong a La Nina winter this is supposed to be, and here in the Northwest, how cold and snowy that is supposed to make our mountains. It seemed to be coming true in September, when we got plenty of new snow on Mt Rainier, and it is continuing to show such a trend, with some significant snow above about 4000' in the North Cascades.

Coming back from the east, with three more days off before returning to work, we did a little cycling and indoor climbing as the weather turned cold and rainy, then went to check out the mountains, hoping that the rain had indeed been good snow up high, as rumored.

Indeed. Hiking up to Skyline Ridge, close to Mt Baker, we topped out at 5800' and, lo and behold, there was about 18" of rained-on consolidated base, with 2-3" of new, smooth, fluffy snow on top, just waiting for us to ski it. Four skiers and boarders were there just ahead of us, but their tracks helped provide some depth perception in the otherwise featureless white surface the snow becomes in clouded conditions.

The inevitable first-of-the-season gear shakedown meant that I forgot mine and was using Dave's skins while he tried his new short "kicker" skins that don't cover the whole ski, just the part underfoot. They worked pretty well and he patiently took a less-steep path to climb back up after each run. Down the steeper part, across a bench, and down to the thicker trees. Skins on, hike up, and repeat. Good skiing in November, who'd have thunk it?

A bit of a storm is moving through this weekend, with very cold temperatures, including a good chance of snow in the city. Really? In November? Sounds like it's time to wax the skis and put the chains in the car. Winter, here we come!

To the Near East

2010-11-13T20:48:00.000-08:00

November is the time of short days, grey skies, and rain here in the Northwest. While we're all waiting for snow to come to the mountains, the recreational shoulder season makes November the perfect time to visit family in the east and appreciate the fall leaves and cold sunny days, which we don't get much of here.

To Virginia to do a little hunting (which in deer season means a lot of sitting still and quiet in chilly wooden tree stands) and eating (mothers' jobs are to keep their children well-fed) with Dave's family, then off to West Virginia to visit Seneca Rocks and do some climbing. Believe it or not, I've never actually climbed on the east coast! My outdoor awakening began post-college, in the great Northwest, but there is plenty of good rock in those much older mountains.

We were blessed with some seriously sunny days, warm and beautiful, even one afternoon in t-shirts! The town of Seneca Rocks exists of several buildings clustered around a T-intersection - two rival guide services, two rival tourist/convenien

ce stores, and a cafe. We were able to stay at the apartment above the guide service Dave used to work for, so the approach to the rock was all of a 10-minute walk across the road. Sweet!

Seneca Rocks is a big fin of stone folded vertically into the ground, relatively solid and in a beautiful setting. Unlike many crags, this has more of a mountain feel, requiring some hiking and offering longer multi-pitch routes. And the south peak happens to be the only summit east of the Mississippi that you can't hike or scramble to, pointy enough to require ropes and technical climbing.

Only a few days there, just long enough to get my steep-rock climbing skills back in order, then time to move on. We left the beautiful sparsely-populated valleys of West Virginia and continued the trip to visit my parents and sister. Raked leaves in Maryland, saw other of Dave's friends from guiding days, and suddenly two weeks was up, time to head back. Good to visit, see other places, catch up with old friends, and always good to head back home.

The Trek

2010-10-23T08:33:00.000-07:00

I've spent too much time updating Alpine's cybercast to be excited about doing a condensed version here, so for the moment check out http://www.alpineascents.com/everest-trek-cybercast.asp for details and pictures. More eventually!

Beautiful Kathmandu

2010-10-04T05:02:00.000-07:00

Wow - now that was a flight itinerary. 40-some-odd hours of traveling, but that wasn't the interesting part...

Got to the Seattle airport at 5:30am (appropriately early) but hadn't written down my flight specifics. Darn! Stood in line at the wrong airline (as per the departures board), got to the right one, waited for someone to come check my visa, then for someone to sort my luggage out, and got to security 6 minutes before my flight closed. Never going to happen. Fortunately the priority line TSA person had mercy and I got on the plane with 1 minute to spare. Whew!

But then... Hung out at LAX by the earlier Asiana flight to Seoul only to discover that the next one left from a different terminal. Ran to the shuttle, waited, then ran through the terminal like in the movies, desperately trying to make the flight - missing it would have been a 2-day stay in LA or worse. Got to security and, thankfully, the flight had been delayed 20 minutes, just enough time to make it through. 13 hours on a plane...

Straight to the connecting flight in Seoul, another 7-hour ride, then 12 hours in the Delhi airport. (Which is unrecognizable from 4 years ago when I first went to India. Then, the lack of bathrooms and ceiling tiles and order made for your average developing-nation experience; now, it's almost like a modern terminal, food courts and everything! Though they still confuse automated with accurate...) The new airport is a lot bigger, so I almost missed my flight again. Ha!

But I finally made it to Kathmandu, and have spent the last day in the concrete capital of southern Asia. It's not that there's more concrete, necessarily, than in other places, but it has been let grow willy-nilly, so that the roads are more like slot canyons than roads. Add to this the smog, continuing political unrest and lack of functional government or any green space, and you've got a place that doesn't hold much for me. I've been to my share of chaotic markets and temples, and there's only so much culture you can absorb from itinerant backpackers.

I did find the potted garden on the roof of the hotel this afternoon, and it offers a view to the north of the city that gives hope of the wide-open spaces we'll be in a few days from now. Children's kites danced in the breeze above the rooftops and big puffy clouds formed over the foothills, and before too long we'll be headed over those hills to the mountains beyond. I'm looking forward to a little walking.

End of summer

2010-09-26T20:53:00.000-07:00

Sometimes summer lingers in the Cascades. There's a good rain at the beginning of September when everyone resigns themselves to going to school, work, and the returning darkness, but then it continues to be sunny through much of September and a little of October, letting those of us who can continue to play.

Sometimes it doesn't.

Word is a La Nina winter is coming, which in the northwest means more precipitation and colder temperatures than normal. Read: a good snow year. To those hoping to climb Mt Rainier in September, however, it means little hope of success this year. As of the end of this trip, no one had summited the mountain in 10 days, and it doesn't look likely in the next few.

Last week a bunch of snow fell over the course of a storm or two, and the mountain now looks ready for winter, fully cloaked in snow. This means snow angels are possible, but avalanches are as well; up to four feet of fresh snow are sitting on top of a smooth crust with the potential to slide. Not a big deal on a small slope, but on a big one, with a crevasse not too far below, it is a risk to be weighed carefully, especially when leading clients on the mountain. On my most recent trip (and last of my season), it was raining and blowing 90 miles an hour at Camp Muir at 6am. We left camp going down, not up.

But there's no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothing (well, sort of). The fall rains aren't the end of outdoor recreation, just a shift. Dave and I went for a drizzly hike up a grunt of a peak near Bellingham, and instead of flowers and mountain views, were rewarded with blueberries, a bear sighting, and plenty of solitude. What more can you ask for? When your hands get cold from picking berries, you can just hunker down and do it like the bears do...

That's the end of my Cascade season, and I'm ready for a little more stable weather. Next up, it's time to head to Nepal for Alpine's Everest Base Camp trek again. No Island Peak climb this time, just walking in more beautiful mountain terrain.

Four days

2010-09-01T10:26:00.000-07:00

With six days off together in late August, Dave and I had planned a big trip, way back into the North Cascades, one of those climbs where only the first few hours are spent on a trail. In two days, climb the alpine rock route for two days, find our way out by a different cross-country route for two days. Mt Terror - mmm. But having learned our lessons about impending inclement weather and trying to cram too much into time off, we decided to change objectives and do a slightly shorter climb of equal quality - the NE buttress of Mt Goode. (Goode instead of Terror - see, we're learning...)

We drove to the trailhead on Rainy Pass the night before, looking up toward the Pickets and feeling good about not wandering around in the rain. Starting out at the PCT south trailhead, our path soon veered off that trail and up a side valley, away from the likelihood of encountering other people. Sixteen miles in, camped at the end of the trail by a beautiful river, all to ourselves. Next morning, bushwhacked and scrambled up 2000 feet to another amazing campsite, settled in, and then walked up to the start of the climb to make sure the glacier would let us pass. A few cracks to step over, but getting onto the rock was assured. Next morning we were up before light, moving early so as to start the rock climbing at first light and maximize our daylight travel time.

The NE buttress of Mt Goode is a classic but not often done route in the Cascades. It's a good ways in, and the route itself, while not necessarily difficult, is long and committing. It is 2800' of rock climbing, and retreating partway up would involve leaving a lot of gear behind. The way we went, when you reach the top you have to go down the back side of the mountain and walk all the way around, to the top of another small glacier which you descend to get back to camp. But it's in a fantastic setting, way up an unpopulated wilderness valley, long and beautiful and remote. The only people we saw were two hiking in as we were hiking out the last day.

We moved pretty well on the third- to fifth-class terrain, roped the entire time but with more or less protection as the steepness of the rock dictated. Close to the top we came across a bivy site perched on the edge of the ridge with melting snow just retreating from the edge - a perfect place to melt water and replenish for the second half of the day: getting down. On a long, hot day, it's more efficient to carry two pounds of Jetboil stove and fuel than to carry countless liters of water at two pounds per liter. We filled up all our water bottles and scoped out the decent notch before continuing on to the summit.

The Cascades continue to be one of the most beautiful places I have ever been. From the top we could see snowy volcanoes, lakes and valleys, and a sea of peaks in every direction. It is in a different quarter than most of the climbing I have done, so mountains are rearranged and showing a different side from this perch. It is staggering to think of how many things there are around us to climb, but the sun continues to move through the sky and we must begin our descent. Rappel, scramble, rappel, walk down a gully, cross some snow, hike up, cross more snow, ascend to a small pass, rappel, downclimb 50 degree snow to the glacier... turn on headlamps. Weave through crevasses, dodge more crevasses, watch the full moon rise, skirt a rock band, arrive at the slopes just above camp. Camp.

Next morning, we took a little time to appreciate the beauty of this place that cannot be described, only taken in. Then packed up, made our way back down to the valley trail, and hiked the 16 miles back to the trailhead. The beauty of a sleep-in-able vehicle is that we didn't have to go anywhere, just to sleep and listen to the returning rain on the roof of the truck.

Six days

2010-08-21T11:08:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite things to do for Alpine Ascents is teach the 6-day course, a basic introduction to mountaineering skills. It's fun, entertaining, and rewarding - people with a range of skills, from none to perhaps some rock climbing background, show up on the first morning with a backpack full of gear, and by the end of 6 days they have learned how to use it. Not enough to start running up mountains by one's self, perhaps, but enough to know how to use an ice axe, which side of the crampons are up, and how to get out of a crevasse should they end up in one in ideal circumstances. Those are the basics - all the rest comes from experience.

And this time, near-perfect weather. What more can you ask for - a beautiful setting in which to hang out with ten excited, engaged, intelligent people from all over the country? Done. The views from up there are great - you're not so high that the lower peaks are distant and indistinguishable, but rather closeby and intriguing. The upper camp, termed the "honeymoon suite", looks directly across at the North Twin Sister, which Dave and I climbed a couple weeks ago. Not too shabby.

We start with the basics - various foot techniques for walking on snow, proper crampon placement, ice axe arrest (face buried in the snow, using axe and feet to stop a fall) on flatter ground for practice - then move on to finer skills. How long the rope should be between climbers, lots of different knots, belaying and rappelling on steeper slopes... These skills culminate in learning how to rescue oneself or a teammate from a crevasse, putting together all of the critical thinking and various skills learned over the past few days. Oh, and summitting the mountain, which is the more immediate goal.

I've personally never fallen in a crevasse. I've punched a foot through a snowbridge, snow that builds up to cover the crevasse and then slowly melts away in the summer. These cracks in the snow and ice of the glacier can be wide or narrow, deep or shallow, and hanging on one end of the rope or holding a fallen teammate on the other end can be equally harrowing experiences. If and when it happens, you need to know what to do, so we practice. And the practice is pretty cool - how often do you get to hang in a big crack in the ice and feel safe and secure? While the summit is an important part of the trip, this is often the highlight of the trip for students.

Playing on glaciers for 6 days with fun, motivated people for 6 days - I'll take it. (Thanks to everybody who wants to learn and keeps me doing this stuff!) They say that good judgement comes from experience, and experience comes from bad judgement, so good luck folks - be safe!

Where does the summer go??

2010-08-09T12:00:00.000-07:00

Wow. One or two trips, a personal climb, another three trips, and all of a sudden it's three weeks later. Summer is too short, or perhaps too long, given how much I try to pack into it. Three months is a long time to be chronically sleep-deprived...

The Cascades got a ridiculous amount of snow this winter and spring, so all of the glaciers and snow slopes are still in excellent shape. This means that crevasses and ice that would normally make routes longer (having to go around them) or more technical (it's harder to climb a given angle of ice than of snow) are still covered in snow. It makes our guiding days a little shorter and a little easier; right now we have conditions that are more typical of late June/early July than of August. It's nice.

I got to climb the Kautz route (new for me) on Mt Rainer for Alpine Ascents, do a couple more laps on the Disappointment Cleaver, the standard route, and take some climbers up Mt Baker. In between, with some of that precious time off, Dave and I took a day to climb the south face of the North Twin Sister, close by Bellingham. It's a fun, relatively easy climb in a beautiful setting, and we didn't see anyone else the entire day. Perfect weather, beautiful climb, easy climbing partner - these things all help recover mentally from so much taking care of other people while guiding. Nice.

Also crammed into these three weeks was the RAMROD, Ride Around Mt Rainier in One Day, a 150-mile, 10,000' elevation gain road ride organized by a local cycling club. I remember hearing about this early in my Washington life, and thinking that this was something for people with an entirely different idea of fun than I. How was it? Fantastic. Apparently climbing is good cross-training for cycling. Tiring, yes, but I wasn't dying to get off the bike by the end, and the route goes through some really beautiful areas, both in and out of the national park. The best part? I started up a Rainier climb the next day with little more than tired muscles. Ha!

So that's a glimpse of summer in the Cascades. So much to do. Such limited time in the sunshine. It's a good thing it starts to rain again sometime in September/October, or we wouldn't be able to keep up with our bodies! Sleep is good...

Forbidden Torment

2010-07-17T22:51:00.000-07:00

If there was a climb called Forbidden-Torment, you'd want to climb it, right?

Several years ago, Mary said "I want to climb Forbidden." It is a well-known climb in the North Cascades, classic easy-moderate rock in a beautiful alpine setting, way up in the high mountains on a ridge with views of mountains and lakes and forests and pointy rocks all around. I said, "how about the Forbidden-Torment traverse?"

This traverse is, among other things, featured in a coffee table book called "50 Classic Climbs" which popularized some beautiful climbs, many of them not prohibitively difficult for your average climber. It is a mile-long pointy ridge between Mt Torment and Mt Forbidden, and requires both technical rock climbing skills and commitment to the route - once you rappel onto the north side of the ridge from Torment, it is prohibitively difficult to get off the ridge without continuing to Forbidden at the other end.

Four years ago Mary and I got caught in an ice-storm up there, and were on the traverse for four days instead of our planned two, just continuing to climb the ice-coated ridge in zero visibility so we could get off. We ran out of food and were at times very concerned about hypothermia - it's the first time I've actually contemplated the possibility of dying in the mountains. (The above picture is of Mary on that first attempt.) But we made it down in one piece, and came up one other time to attempt the route before turning around.

This time, Mary led the hardest part - getting off the glacier and onto the rock - and we headed for the top of Torment. Unfortunately, we haven't done much climbing together recently, and in the end we were moving too slow to anticipate a good climb - the time we had would not permit us to have normal-length days and achieve our objective. We'd done the traverse itself once, though it wasn't fun. If we weren't enjoying this climb, why were we doing it? So we came down and camped with the marmots, and enjoyed the sunset.

Next time Mary says "I want to climb this mountain," I'm just going to say, "OK."

Vantage and Baker

2010-07-09T22:30:00.000-07:00

So this might not be the kind of climbing that inspires dramatic posts. It was not hard, it was not impressive. It wasn't something new or different, in fact I think I've climbed most of what we did before. But it has been some time for me and Mary and Erin, both since we climbed individually and since we got to play together. Which means... things got a little ridiculous.

The three of us have climbed Rainier in tiaras, and basically find joint ventures to be an excuse to indulge our inner 12-year-olds. Or younger in this case - we got silly stretchy bracelets and temporary tattoos and just enjoyed a sunny weekend in the desert of Eastern Washington with the excuse of doing some rock climbing. Really, what more do you need? Our original plan had been to climb Mt Baker with a couple other folks, but the forecast was for rain, and we found out later that's exactly what it did - boy was it nice to be in the hot and dry! It had been a pretty crappy spring here in the Northwest so far.

A week later, the switch for summer flipped here, and it was beautiful everywhere. So I did go to Mt Baker, but this time with skis. Dave and two of his friends and I went up to ski the Squak Glacier - an ancient native name for "glacier without big crevasses". The snowline was finally rising, so we had to cross the lowland rivers and hike up to the snow. From there it was a mellow day, just skiing up as high as we wanted and then making big turns down the vast canvas of the unbroken snow. Sweet!! More weather like this, please!

Working?

2010-07-01T22:13:00.000-07:00

OK, so I had a little time off, and it was (of course) promptly filled with those day-to-day things that most people take for granted, but which are impossible to do while on the hill. Catching up on life stuff, and a little fun thrown in for good measure: manage the email (obviously), sleep, do laundry, spend time with boyfriend/partner Dave, go skiing, work one Rainier climb, get a haircut, do a few RAMROD training rides, catch up with a few friends in town...

There's always plenty to do, but as with all lives, it becomes part of the day-to-day, strange as that may sound. After the chaos of the RAAM, it was nice to have my time back for a little while.

End or beginning?

2010-06-13T19:51:00.000-07:00

Three and a half days, 857 miles, pedaling on 6 hours of sleep. 5000' climbs and descents, a massive lightning storm in the night through Monument Valley, brutal headwinds, welcome tailwinds, navigating through towns and 120 miles on one stretch of highway...

Samim rode well, proved he is a rider who belongs at a race like RAAM, and gave it everything he had, including an amazing stretch getting to Durango yesterday. He was diagnosed with influenza pneumonia this morning at about 3am. The X-ray and lab results confirmed what we had become sure of as he tried to ride in the cold of early morning: his lungs and body were succumbing to a bacterial battle, had trumped his training and mental toughness, and his compromised body was just unable to continue the race. It took a lot of convincing even after the diagnosis (no no, I can keep riding...), but Sam's bid for the RAAM this year is done.

The fact that he's been riding with this for the last couple of days just underscores the amazing mental and physical strength that he brings to this race. I keep trying to find words to describe what he must have been going through yesterday, but I just can't. I know it was hard beyond any physical endeavor I've ever engaged in.

Which is not to say that crewing for those four days was easy either! We averaged about 3 hours of sleep a day, alternating between trying to find supplies in whatever local town, and being in the follow vehicle, trying to get Sam what he needed and keep him on the road. I spent the last three nights driving about 40 feet behind him at 20 miles an hour, trying to keep him in the headlights but not run him down, for hours and hours at a time. We'd pull up next to him, hand him drinks and food, and fall back to our follow position, all while watching out for vehicles flying by on these open western roads. Whew!

So we're here in Durango, CO, hoping that with a lot of rest and down time and the medicines he was given, the pneumonia will heal and he'll be able to travel in a week or so. He actually completed the course for the parallel race, Race Across the West, which ends here instead of Annapolis. We're hoping that with the experience and knowledge gained from this shortened time, he'll be able to come back next year dialed in, knowing how it all goes, ready to rock the RAAM. Go Samim, go!

On your marks...

2010-06-08T17:38:00.000-07:00

Would you believe I've never been to Southern California before? It really is 70 degrees here all the time! I was able to get in a couple of runs along 101, beside the ocean with surfers and everything, but our time has largely been spent organizing and getting ready for the Race Across America (RAAM).

Packing for an expedition is always the hardest part - most stressful, complicated, and least rewarding. But this is way worse, especially since it's something none of us have done before. So there's T-shirts to get printed, flashing lights to fit to the top of the van, inspections to be on time for, food to buy, bike supplies to get, and those weird extra things, like finding a cigarette lighter extension so the lights can actually get to a power outlet. Six people tripping over each other, all with ideas on everything, trying to run this thing like a democracy instead of having assigned roles. An interesting cultural experience in my own country!

The most frustrating thing has been the difference in sense of time. I've spent some serious time getting to understand the sense of time (or lack thereof) in India, so I've come to understand that 5 minutes actually means as-long-as-it-takes. But here, we get a 15 minute penalty on Samim's final time if we're late for vehicle inspection. So leaving the hotel at 10:30 really does mean 10:30, not 11:00 or whenever we get around to it. Despite what must be extremely annoying nagging on my part, we're still en route to get our food, at 6pm the night before, let along organizing the vans or getting to bed early. It should all be fine as long as we're ready to go and Samim gets to sleep early tonight, but it has taken a fine balance between patience and trying not to let us get too far behind!

Tomorrow, though, at noon, Samim will start riding from the beach here in Oceanside, CA (just north of San Diego), and be on the clock until he arrives at the other side, in Maryland, in 9 or 10 days. 18 other solo men will be riding the same route, along with five women who started today and assorted other teams of 2-8 people. They're all crazy. But inspired, and that's why I'm here, to help him achieve his dream. (Different than hallucinations - those will come later, when lack of sleep sets in...)

We'll have internet connectivity in the van, so I'll be able to update. There will also be lots of forms of electronic media (live streaming video from the van, twitter, facebook, blogs etc), but I'm not sure where or what they all are, or when they'll be up. There's always Google, but there's also the leaderboard at http://www.raceacrossamerica.org/raam/rcrank.php

Go Samim, Go!!!!

Intermission

2010-06-01T11:21:00.000-07:00

One Rainier climb between big trips, then off to California (and all the states between there and Maryland...).

Summit day for us was Monday, and even though it was snowing, it wasn't too windy. Decent visibility, and wands marking the route every 100 feet or so. I turned around with someone who was just out of energy and had to go down, but half the team summited. The weather was slightly borderline, but as the guide leading the trip said, "the weather was never bad enough to justify turning around."

Interestingly, there was a monster storm that came through about a week and a half ago, catching RMI out on the upper mountain (our team was almost down by then). Through a variety of events, one guide got frostbite so badly he might well lose his entire hand. Wow. So yesterday, they turned around at our first break - avalanche danger and high winds. Hmm. Would be nice if people could just make reasonable decisions consistently instead of reacting to whatever luck, good or bad, they've experienced recently. We as humans are subject to hubris and gunshy-ness, all of us - gives us something to work on, and definitely keeps life interesting.

But honestly, I'm actually ready for some time away from mountains! It's true. So my plan is to go sit in a car, driving 20 mph across the country for two weeks. Following a cyclist. Who's from India, competing in arguably the toughest endurance event in the world. Check it out: Race Across America 3000 miles, 100,000 feet of elevation gain, 10 days. Glad it's not me...

Go Team 1!

2010-05-26T22:34:00.000-07:00

Nice to be able to give Alpine Ascents a summit for their first team on Denali for the year! And nice to finally be able to stand on top and take some pictures. Team 1 was little, just me and three climbers, but we worked hard, got along well, took care of ourselves, and made it up and down safely.

Our fly-on day was delayed by weather, so we ate, drank, sat around, ate some more, waited, and did actually get to fly on the next afternoon, through some clouds that were borderline acceptable to fly in. (I sharpened my crampons while we were waiting at the airstrip.) On our first few days working up the mountain, we encountered lots of teams coming down who hadn't been able to get a day of good summit weather, and had to come down. Only two teams in our first few days had been successful, the first summits of the season.

The weather for our overall trip worked out perfectly. We had some pretty nasty days in the middle, between 11,000' and 14,000' camps, but the team dealt with the strong winds and snow quite well, staying warm and functional as we carried gear and moved camp. It prepared us for summit conditions, which were less windy than those we encountered down low!

Once we reached 14,000' camp, things cleared up a bit, and we were able to actually see some of the amazing scenery around us. We moved to high camp at 17,000', took our rest day, and were duly rewarded with a seemingly suitable summit day. The winds died down to almost pleasant for the second half of our day (OK, it was still cold enough to wear my down pants, balaclava, and goggles) and we were able to stand on top at about 8:30pm. Go Team 1!

Fortunately, it doesn't ever get really dark there this time of year, so we got down around 1am and cooked some dinner before going to bed. Two days later, we arrived back at base camp, drank the beers we had stashed there for our return (only good ones - Alaska Amber and Moose Drool), and got right on a 4-seater

plane back to Talkeetna. Sweet!

Third time's a charm. It was nice to finally be able to stand on top and take some pictures. A big thanks to my team for persevering and making it up there. Nice job, crew! And huge thanks to everyone back home for your thoughts and prayers - we aren't out there all alone...

Those last 15 feet...

2010-05-05T00:02:00.000-07:00

It's funny - I put in my last cybercast from Nepal about two weeks ago, and just finished typing up the first one for Denali. For being somewhere else all the time, I sure feel like I'm always letting people know where I am!

Island Peak stands at 20,305 feet above sea level. We were joking while we were there that we should just bring a really tall ladder to make it to the same elevation as the summit of Denali, which is at 20,320', and how different the two climbs were. Island: a different language, rocky trails, animals to carry your gear, people to cook your food and carry the kitchen, a day from base camp to the summit. Denali: US land, entirely ice from the moment you start, 120 lbs of gear that you are responsible for moving up the mountain, a shovel for making your own sleeping place level (and protected from wind and snow), and 15+ days of walking slowly uphill carrying lots of weight, hoping the weather will give you a break so you can go back down. It would be difficult for them to be more different, but it's all the mountains, and it's all good.

So we're off, weather permitting, tomorrow afternoon. We'll spend the next full day at base camp, by the snow runway, going over crevasse rescue and building a strong camp and all the other stuff we need to be ready for the mountain. It will be a few days until we have phone reception and can call in again, but posts, as always, will be at www.alpineascents.com/denali-cybercast.asp See you soon!

Photos

2010-04-28T20:30:00.000-07:00

More from Nepal and other places on my site at SmugMug. Enjoy!

(On the right side of the image, a little window pops out - click on "large" to see them as a slide show.)

Everest Base Camp / Island Peak

2010-04-21T05:12:00.000-07:00

Three weeks? Really? Yep, we flew in on April 1 and back on April 20 - three weeks of walking up and down paths, looking at mountains and trees and yaks and kids and trying hard to fight off the various intestinal and respiratory bugs along the way. To Everest Base Camp and back, and a side trip to climb Island Peak for a few of us.

We actually had ridiculously perfect weather for most of the trek, just an afternoon of showers for us climbers and, unfortunately, some bad weather for the trekkers trying to fly back to Kathmandu before us. But the good weather meant lots of iconic views of all the famous mountains, Everest, Lhotse, Nupse, Ama Dablam, Pumori, as well as the less-famous mountains: Kangteka, Tamserku, Island, etc. The high Himalaya really are what they appear to be in pictures - striking, isolated, and BIG. Add some colorful prayer flags and timeless chorten monuments and stoic-looking yaks, and every picture is a keeper.

Interestingly, the challenge in climbing Everest is increasingly becoming not the altitude or logistics (that's what extra oxygen and amazing Sherpas are for), but simply keeping healthy in a valley with hundreds of climbers from all over the world (and thousands of trekkers), plentiful antibiotics, and lots of years for things to stew in a confined area. Everyone on our trip was sick in some form for some amount of time, and a few were hit badly enough to have to discontinue their ascent, meeting us only on the way down. Acute gastroenteritis (shit-barfs in the coloquial), respiratory infections, and the elusive Khumbu cough, a dry cough that doesn't resolve until you go down a LOT - these are often incapacitating and occasionally immune to antibiotic treatment. So train, yes, but carry a lot of drugs.

The main trekking route is indeed a Disneyland of sorts, and being in a large group made things much easier in many ways. The Sherpas (historical traders from Tibet who settled in the high valleys of Nepal about 500 years ago and are extremely strong at altitude) who porter, guide, and organize for us are amazingly hard working and attentive, and will run ahead to get tea or lunch started, load duffels on yaks, put bags in rooms, and a thousand other things that make our lives smoother. Most of them have a long relationship with Alpine Ascents, and the generosity of spirit they show is amazing.

We trekked up with the team of Everest climbers and guides who would be staying and climbing on the mountain for the next six weeks. It was a big group, but nice to get to talk to a variety of people, and interesting to get to know the climbers a bit before wishing them luck and heading back down. We had the opportunity to have lunch in base camp before heading back down, and the digs are nice!! They're there for some time, so the facilities (dining tent, outhouses, tents) are nice, and the food was great. We walked up close to the famous Khumbu icefall, a maze of shifting, broken glacier, and all agreed that we were glad we wouldn't have to walk through it!

A few odd things: after leaving the little airport at Lukla, we didn't see another wheel or cart until we returned. The terrain is too steep and broken - everything is carried by humans or yaks (or mule or zopkyo, a yak/cow crossbreed). And for many days we never heard an engine - no generators, no flights overhead. It is odd to realize that you haven't heard anything far away except for rockfall - everything you hear is close to you, within eyeshot. Yet there was internet in literally all but two of the villages we stayed in - ha!

The rest of the trekkers headed down and four of us (one had gotten quite sick) took a 5-day side trip to climb Island Peak, only 15 feet shorter than Denali! But so much more accessible. It's rock and trail about 2/3 of the way up, then a bit of glacier and at last some steep ice, which Chewang went ahead and fixed ropes on so we could climb up safely. Nice to be on a mountain instead of down in the valleys for a while!

Back down here in Kathmandu, a good rain had cleared out the smog, so it wasn't so much of a shock to our system. Amazing how fast you can readjust to cars and signs and civilization. A good shower, some fresh fruit, and cotton, and it's almost like we never left. But it's interesting to have seen another corner of the world, another cultural reference that people talk about, another understanding of a common experience. I managed not to offend any locals too much, or accidentally do anything terribly sacrilegious, so hopefully I'll get to come back and lead this trip in the future...

Off and trekking

2010-04-03T03:36:00.000-07:00

Well, I didn't manage to put this up before I left, but here in Namche, two days' hike in, there is high speed internet, so now I can put the link up. Cybercasts for the Everest Base Camp trek and Island Peak climb are at http://www.alpineascents.com/everest-trek-cybercast.asp

We were able to fly in with no issues on our scheduled day - the weather up at 9000' at Lukla is often windy or cloudy, and it's one of those runways you don't get a second chance at! But all was well, and we're on schedule for the trek. Lots of time before and on these first few days has been spent getting logistics communicated all around - two trekkers are coming out early, some are staying late with their Everest climber family members, and five of us are taking a side trip to climb Island peak after visiting base camp. Lots of supplies and people and arrangements in lots of directions! The Sherpa staff is amazing - this trip or the expedition could not happen without them.

I think this is the last internet connection for a while, so until we get back to Namche in two weeks or so, enjoy the cybercasts!

Nepal

2010-03-29T10:04:00.000-07:00

Well, things are rarely what you expect - that's really true of almost everything (OK, except maybe some 9-5 jobs ;-). Nepal had been built up so much by other people and other people that the reality of what I found here on my own did not help my mood much for the first few days, but eventually the walking meditation that is long days and lots of distance helped bring me back to center.

In all honesty, I've found Nepal to be very much like India with two very important distinctions. One, there's a tiny fraction of the population, and two, there haven't been roads built to every village town. Yet. This means that you can have the idyllic trekking experience, away from roads but with lovely lodges and tea houses, in the high mountains, and there's a lot less waste and crowding. But there's still trash in the ravines and ditches. There's still one guy trying to fit his wife and two kids in the bus seat next to me. There's still tons of pollution, particularly in the city, and people still try to rip you off. They just do it with a smile instead of indifference.

All that said, it was beautiful most of the time, and I know how to get most of the above-mentioned drawbacks. I think many people who love the supposed Shangri-la of Nepal skip all the dirty parts, and just fly straight to Lukla and the Disneyland version of Nepal that is the major trekking circuits. There, kids don't bug you for handouts, the trails are wide, and businesses abound to serve your every desire as a trekker: chocolate cake, hot showers, telephone... you're still trekking, living rougher than we do at home, but things are pretty much oriented toward getting the trekker what he/she needs, and in a beautiful place.

The rhododenderons are in bloom, as well as white magnolia trees, and it's cool to see a forest sprinkled with white and pink and red across the hillside. I took a bus to Jiri and walked past Lukla (the fly-in point for our upcoming trek) to the edge of the park at Monjo in four days, then walked back in five. I didn't get to start seeing the really high mountains, but some glimpses here and there of snow-capped peaks are making me look forward to the scenery we'll get to soon.

Treading water

2010-03-15T10:56:00.001-07:00

Not literally, but the last week has just been spent visiting with friends and trying to figure out what on earth to do with my two weeks of free time. A few plans made and fallen through, and ultimately my frustration with feeling like I was just here taking up time prompted me to change my ticket to Nepal. I'm tired of trying to figure out how to spend my time when I could be walking in the mountains!

I've basically just been hanging around Bangalore and Delhi, being social. Good to spend time catching up with people here - went to see the movie "Up in the Air" (interesting), met with some of the people involved in making Samim's RAAM ride a reality, finally went to Qutb Minar (a beautiful stone minaret in Delhi), and otherwise did a whole lot of... not much. I've gotten to exercise a little, but it's hard in crowded cities with bad air quality. So as always I'm torn between spending time with the people I want to catch up with and needing to take care of myself. Almost two weeks here reconnecting with friends, and it's time for me to run off.

So, tomorrow going to Kathmandu, then off to the hills. To avoid the possibility of being stuck in Lukla by weather, unable to fly back to Kathmandu to meet our trekkers, I'm going to take the bus to Jiri and trek to Lukla, then as far up the Khumbu as I can with the week and a half I have, walking back through Lukla to Jiri and the return bus to Kathmandu. That's the plan, anyway! I'll let you know in a week or two how it worked out...

24 hours, 701 kilometers

2010-03-07T22:17:00.000-08:00

You know how sometimes you hear about people doing crazy things, amazing things that you can't actually imagine achieving, and you wonder how they got there? Samim Rizvi, a good friend here in Bangalore, has done exactly that, and it is even more amazing to watch someone you've seen work to get there actually achieve what they've set out to do.

I met Sam in 2008 at my first attempt at MTB Himachal here in India, his first time on a mountain bike. (He was in my posting then, and in the CNN-IBN video clip.) Some weeks later I visited him and several other new friends in Bangalore, and over the last year and a half we have become close friends. He's actually a road racer, and has had his share of drama and thwarted plans since then in getting to this point - a 24-hour time trial to qualify for the Race Across America (RAAM).

There's no qualifying races in India or close by, European races are prohibitively difficult for Indian nationals to get visas for, and the Cycling Federation of India is so mired in politics and chaos that it is non-functional for the purposes of officiating an event. So his sponsor, Bulldog Sports (for whom he also teaches fitness and training classes), organized a solo event with media and the support of the many people who have been there for Samim. At 8:14am on Saturday, Sam started riding 70km loops on the highway just outside town with a vehicle and several other riders following in support. The rules for a time trial prohibit drafting, so there would be no pace line, just one rider with his head into the wind.

The weather here in March is hot, so by 2pm he had slowed a bit, suffering in the heat (maybe 98 degrees?). Finally the sun went down around 6:30 and things cooled off a bit, but that's when the 12 hours of cycling in the dark start. Much of the hype has died down, the other riders are gone, and just the people staying for the duration are around to lend encouragement. His family and sponsors and cycling friends (and I) took turns riding in the support vehicle, taking video and trying to help with positive energy, biding time at the Cafe Coffee Day in between. If there are any support heros in this event, it is the driver and crew of the van who stayed up and functional for the entire duration. These seemed to be the hardest hours.

At 3am, six other riders arrived to join Sam on his circuits and provide mental and emotional support. You know who your friends are when they get up at 2am to ride 140km in the dark with you!! Wow. Again, no one was allowed to ride ahead, but talking to the rider beside you and knowing there are more behind helps keep the remaining energy in your legs flowing.

As the sun came up again, Samim completedin 23 hours the 425 miles (668km) required to qualify for the RAAM, in the middle of the plains with the crew and two riders who had stayed with him. What an amazing moment in the journey - a sweaty hug can mean so much. Then, he got back on his bike and kept riding to complete the 24 hour trial.

Back at the start point once again, Sam got off his bike at 8:13am, having cycled 701 kilometers. His sponsor was of course there, Mom and Dad and most of the people important in his life had come, as well as the media and a famous actor in local film, to congratulate him in this enormous accomplishment. No rest for the weary: interviews, questions, autographs both given and received, all these kept everyone busy for the next three hours. Those of us who got no sleep were nodding off on the way home, and I fell into bed at 12:30 and slept for 16 hours. I can't imagine Sam's exhaustion, and hope he has gotten some rest amidst the excitement of family and media.

More on the RAAM later, but in short, it's a race from Oceanside, CA, to Annapolis, MD, about 3000 miles in under 12 days. The qualifying committee still has to accept this ride to accept his entry, but he seems to be poised to come, with Ronnie of Bulldog Sports set on making it happen. The same crew will be coming with him, and I'll be joining the team, for the start on June 9. Until then, sleep, planning, and, oh yeah - more training. :-)

More snow!!

2010-02-28T13:18:00.000-08:00

Funny - I haven't been in Seattle this much in a while, though in reality I haven't been in Seattle much this time either. A lot of skiing, including a road trip with Dave up to Canada - we took three days to explore the Coquihala area, about an hour northeast of Hope, BC.

It's still not a great snow season in the Northwest, but it was really fun to explore a new area and see some new mountains. There were many discussions about how much terrain is nearby, just over the border in Canada, and in many cases closer (to Bellingham) for climbing and skiing than driving south to Rainier or deep into the North Cascades. Funny how our maps show blank space above our border, and we somehow internalize that and forget to go check it out!

One thing you have to love about Canada - they expect people to be out there. Unlike most places in the US, we were allowed to camp out at a rest area in the mountains (or at least, weren't chased off). Dave's truck provided a good base camp, and with bathrooms and a little heated picnic room mere meters away, what more could you ask for? He's got a great system worked out for cooking, storage etc, and for a low-budget trip, it was pretty posh. A great way to get out there!

But now it's off to India, where it's hot and humid and has way more people than Canada. Plans changed suddenly a little bit ago, and instead of working with the government climbing institute in India, I'll be working for Alpine Ascents on the Everest Base Camp trek and Island Peak climb in Nepal. An opportunity I'm very excited about! But it does throw my India plans into chaos. Too much gear to bring for skiing, perfectly wrong timing to work with the climbing institute, and too early in the season to climb in the Himalaya here. So I'll basically just be taking up time here until it's time to go to Nepal. A little biking in Bangalore, perhaps some down time in Ooty's cooler hill station, and maybe, just maybe, I'll actually go see the Taj Mahal this time! Or not - we'll see...

Snow!!!

2010-02-22T14:54:00.000-08:00

Two whole weeks in Seattle! It's been a warm winter, but the dedicated skier can sniff out some good turns - sun-softened snow on those warm days, powder that's been blown into a gully and hidden from the sun's warmth, that secret area that no one knows about.

I've been spending a lot of time with Dave while here in Seattle/Bellingham, and he thankfully provides the motivation that I lack, post-expedition, to actually gear up and get out. But once I'm out, I love being in the mountains - the Northwest is so beautiful, and so quiet, in the backcountry.

We went on a short tour by the Mt Baker ski area on Sunday, and hiked up past some snowboarders who had smoothed out a jump for the afternoon's entertainment. It's been a few years since I was at Alta, but remember the feeling of being intentionally airborne on skis. As we watched, one of them offered to let us jump in, but didn't expect me to actually start taking off my pack! The first attempt merely demonstrated that the launch wasn't what I expected, but the second attempt resulted in a good launch, if slightly less-successful landing. Dave, who is still learning to telemark, just enjoyed the show with a good laugh. I can't upload videos here, but if you're on Facebook, check it out there.

A little more skiing this weekend before heading to India again, and to Nepal - I'll be leading Alpine's treks to Everest Base Camp and up Island Peak. Lots to write about, I'm sure!

Which time zone?

2010-02-13T14:25:00.000-08:00

Back in Mendoza, I managed to change my ticket to Seattle and return a few days early, then headed to the east coast to see some friends and family, readjust to English and healthy vegetarian food!

First stop, Boston, and some old college friends who are now married and had their first child last summer. He is, of course, beautiful, now 9 months old. And more astoundingly, seemed to actually like me! I've always been someone who doesn't do much with kids, and frequently seems to alarm them (though perhaps it was the shaved head). So to have him be comfortable with me was something new!

The most amazing thing about visiting was how much these two have continued to be themselves. So often, it seems, people have kids and settle into domesticity, and change into these unknown people who can only talk about how cute their baby's spit is and when to paint the living room.

Nice for them, tough for previous friends. But instead, these old friends put him to bed, then had actual functional adult time - we made dinner and talked about normal things and enjoyed being friends with 12 years' history. Beautiful in so many ways.

Through Philly to visit briefly with another old rowing friend (no pictures, sadly), then on to see my parents in Maryland. On the way, the conductor of the train noted that if the door nearest you doesn't open, it has simply frozen shut - please go to the next door! I managed to sneak into and out of Maryland in between major snowstorms that were shutting down much of the east coast.

We spent a quiet few days near home since DC and much of the surrounding area were not equipped to deal with the amount of snow that had fallen. But good to spend some quiet days with my folks. My sisters were not there (they live in Colorado), but here's a great picture of my mom and sisters from last summer. I love that my parents didn't put us into boxes or dictate the direction that our lives would go. As a result, you get some pretty different results! *grin*

Back in Seattle now for two weeks, looking forward to some skiing and re-organizing before India again.

14 up, 2 down

2010-02-02T23:21:00.000-08:00

Crazy - it takes 14 days to climb all the way to the summit of Aconcagua, just under 7,000 meters, and only two days to get all the way down and out, back to a shower and clean sheets. This is because of acclimatization, of course, not muscular ability to climb fast or slow. But it's still crazy to think that all that work can be reversed with only two days of walking.

This trip enjoyed incredible weather. Four days before our scheduled summit day, I started to get nervous because the weather was... still. Practically NO wind at 17,500' on one of the windiest places on the mountain! Can't last, and we're going to get pinned down later.

Well, no, amazingly, the weather held, at least enough - clear and calm in the mornings, but snow and some thunderstorms in the later afternoons!

Three of our four summitted; one climber had been slightly sick for the past couple of days and just didn't feel like fighting that all the way up the mountain. But the others of us climbed up in perfect warm weather, the snow starting only an hour before we reached camp again. When the extra trekking poles strapped to my pack started buzzing with electricity in the air, I decided I'd go on ahead and start the hot water...

One of our climbers is the founding force behind Climb for Cancer, which raises money and distributes it directly to help families dealing with cancer: buying exercise bikes for the local cancer treatment center to improve the recovery of bone marrow transplant patients, or paying for the gas, parking fees, and food for families coming to the center for treatment, so they can afford to come. Keep your eye on this one - Ron (not the guy in this picture) is an incredibly passionate and compassionate head of this charity who raised $32,000 (independent of climbing costs, all paid out of his own pocket) with his young neighbor who also climbed with us and did very well.

Edited now with a few pictures from John (thanks!!). The pig one is pretty random - that particular swine had been Christmas dinner at base camp a few weeks before and was being memorialized by the cold weather. And the last picture is with John and Lhakpa Gelu, the other Alpine Ascents guide on this trip. He's still on the mountain, working with three more summit climbs. Sometimes I'm glad I'm not a Sherpa...

Mendoza and back again

2010-01-11T03:36:00.000-08:00

OK, so I dropped my camera on summit day, thought I'd see if I could realign the inner lens that got displaced by carefully removing and replacing some screws, and discovered that some components are not user serviceable. (Like, most of them.) The whole lens unit is self-contained and buried deep in the inner workings of this digital camera, so I am temporarily without pictures.

It's OK - Mendoza's not that exciting. Spent the week running into the usual random assortment of other guides here for the season, wandering about town in varying degrees of heat (up to 104 one day!), and largely cooking in the apartment since, again, I can only eat so much salad and fried potatoes, even if I do bring my own walnuts.

Lhakpa arrived for his four-in-a-row stint on the mountain, we did the shopping and packing for our four climbers, and I kept wondering f I'd forgotten something - seems like so little after packing for a group of 9 plus 3 guides!

We're off this morning - check out Team 8 at http://www.alpineascents.com/aconcagua-cybercast.asp See you in a couple weeks!

Blow the house down

2010-01-02T14:20:00.000-08:00

For a traditionally cold and windy mountain, Aconcagua sure was cold and windy this time around! We were pretty much stuck in our tents above base camp, missing out on the usual opportunities to have a lounging rest day or two. Yoga at Camp 1, socializing at Camp 3, these things did not happen, but everyone (if not all the tents) made it through.

The logistics and personalities of the trip went well. One of the strangest groups I've had bonded incredibly well, had long conversations into the night on fidelity, politics (yes, peacefully!), and personal paths. Everyone did well, stayed healthy and strong, and enjoyed the sunshine at a time when most were trying to avoid tinsel-filled shopping at home. And the local guide who joined our Alpine crew turned out to be awesome. Thanks, Martin!

The wind and unsettled weather were a bit of a pain however. Our three nights at high Camp 4 (20,500') resulted in three gimpy tents - two poles broke the first night in wind gusts, two the second night. Those gusts moved some big rocks holding our tents down! We made a summit attempt the first half-way decent day (two people made it to the top) and were excited when the next day was actually supposed to be good. But by then, all but one person was tired of being up high with limited oxygen and difficult sleep. We headed down, ready to be freed from the nylon walls of our tents.

But everyone is down in one piece, in good health and with the knowledge of what good acclimatization can feel like. (So many of the people who pass us on the trail going up also pass us on their way down when they their bodies can't adjust to their fast rate of ascent. Interesting.) Hopefully everyone enjoyed their time in the mountains.

Me, I'm on a fruit and whole-food diet to get some nutrients back before heading up again...

Poof

2009-12-11T07:52:00.000-08:00

And now it´s Argentina. I had about six days in Seattle to unpack, repack, and connect with friends there. But nonestly, the hardest part is switching automatic languages phrases, at least the little that I know them. I keep trying to use Hindi words for simple things like now and yes, and taking a moment to realize why they haven´t understood me. Ha! My spanish is limited enough, but this is definitely making it less useful!

Fortunately, I´m pretty used to packing for these expeditions by now, so was able to spend a lot of time socializing with people I haven´t seen for two months and won´t see for another two. A screening of films from the traveling Banff Film Festival, tea with Mary, a tromp in the snow to get the feel of the Northwest again. The snow was hard from warm weather followed by a clear cold snap, so it was more of a hike, but good to remind my toes and fingers how to stay warm after two weeks of 90 degree weather! Freezing cold and windy, but great to get out.

Now in Mendoza, I´m getting food and logistics prepared for nine climbers and a few guides for almost three weeks on the mountain. I´m working with a local guide for the first time instead of all Alpine guides, and he seems to be a great guy. The best part is he knows where to find things it would take me hours to do with my broken spanish. (¨Do you have ... something ... for ... umm, uno momento.¨) But at least it´s warm again...

We´ll be posting cybercasts for Team 3 on Aconcagua at: http://www.alpineascents.com/aconcagua-cybercast.asp

Catch you on the flip side!

A five-hour delay in the Delhi airport

2009-12-01T16:30:00.000-08:00

Is it possible to miss a place before you've even left?? How do you reconcile yourself to your world, to your own choices, when they exact their toll? Oddly enough, I'm not talking about love, though the parallels are certainly there. Love or life, the loss is part of the having.

These last three trips to India have been spent developing stronger and stronger ties to a place that's literally half a world away, that doesn't hold lucrative work for me, that is in many ways diametrically opposed to the culture I call home. But each time I come I meet more cool people, those I want to see again, and find more things I want to do with those I already know well. In Indian parlance, "what to do?" The only answer is to keep coming back.

OK, enough of the philosophical rant. This last week in Bangalore has been exactly what I've needed at the end of every trip here, a little time in a place I'm coming to know better, with no demands except those I willingly submit to. To and from a climbing area, I rode pillion (second) on a motorcycle for only the second time, with just my bicycle helmet - better than nothing. A friend generously loaned his road bike, this time the perfect size, and I learned how to get around (just a tiny bit of) the city by bicycle - while traffic is chaos, at least that means drivers are somewhat used to looking out for motorcycles, cyclists, cows, etc, and won't run you over without even noticing! Ironic.

I did manage to go rock climbing (sometimes no one's available, and you just have to hire a guide :-) at one of the more beautiful locations I've been to, Ramanagar, about an hour outside Bangalore. The city is in one section of a huge plateau punctuated by tall rounded rock outcroppings, around 500' high. Many of these have ruins of forts, or temples on them. Ramanagar supports a temple and a few other structures, pavilions. It has also been developed by the local climbing community into a climbing area, complete with new bolts for leading and anchoring, and a variety of routes from easy to extremely hard. It's not a terribly large area, but one wall was plenty to remind my fingers that they haven't done much climbing recently! Fortunately that allowed for some time to look around, out at the plateau and the other rock bumps in the greenery. A beautiful day.

So now, headed back to Seattle, I'm mentally preparing for the shift in time, culture, friends, and the little interactions that make a place home, looking forward to briefly seeing good friends there, but missing those here I won't see for a while. Ah, well - til next time...

Footnotes

2009-11-24T03:50:00.000-08:00

That's right - more me time! I mean really, if I'm going to work on my vacation time, I should at least get a vacation while I'm here. *grin* Lin joined me at the last minute for a trip to Chennai to see a new friend and her family check out the surrounding areas of southern India, a new locale for me.

Chennai (named Madras by the British, corrected relatively recently back to a more local moniker) is a bit different than most of the places I've been so far. Furthest south, and close to the ocean, it's incredibly humid and warm, even in "winter", which is now. It actually reminded me strongly of the Yucatan Peninsula of Mexico, a strange connection that took a day or two to shake off. Lots of temples of various architecture and age, including many older ones (600 AD?) in a place called Mamallapuram, a tourist town that did little to dispel my Mexico schizophenia.

Most interesting, however, was getting to stay with my friend and her husband and son - altogether an incredibly talented family. She is a very accomplished Indian Classical Dancer, and we were treated to a short private performance. There are many styles of classical dance, but I'd never seen any of them, and to get such an amazing performance up close was perhaps the best introduction one could hope for. Her husband is a well-known Classical Vocalist who performs with her as well as in his own shows; she played a commercially-produced CD of him for her mini-performance. And last but not least, their son is a budding western-style guitarist, inordinately fond of Jimi Hendrix, who we got to hear play in his school's "western music assembly" the day we arrived. Wow. Best of all, they are all incredibly warm and welcoming, a pleasure to get to know individually as well as part of a family.

Also met up with a new friend from this year's MTB Himachal (funny being on the same trip and meeting back up with people from previous activities...) and cycled to Pondicherry, about 150km south on a beautiful coastal road. My first trip on a road bike was great - so different than the grinding you do cycling up and down rough mountain terrain. No crazy pictures, but it was great to just ride through the greenery and salty air. A quick stay with other cycling friends there and back the next day - nice tour.

Now off to Bangalore for the last stop on this tour - a little climbing, a little cycling, and some good face time with friends.

Epilogue

2009-11-18T20:26:00.000-08:00

But that's not all... being an official-type organization, there was lots of time to be spent tidying up official loose ends.

We spent about a week back at the main NIM campus de-issuing gear, doing a bit more rock climbing, practicing the graduation ceremony, and, most importantly, going into town so the long-deprived students could have some junk food. Junk food in this case means chaats, street food, often fried, frequently sweet, and, as required by the definition of street food, largely without redeeming nutritional value but fun to eat! Tikki burgers (fried potato patties on a roll with chili sauce), dahi puri (fried crunchies with sweet sauce and chili sauce and yogurt), and jalebis (fried swirls of batter subsequently saturated in sugar syrup)... sense a trend?

But the more important graduation ceremony was carried out in good style, followed by a "cultural" presentation - everything from Bollywood-style dance numbers to skits about decompressing from the NIM experience to local dance and traditional music. Students returned their stylish NIM graduation sweaters and were suddenly faced with that inevitable end of such an intense ordeal and bonding experience. Hasty goodbyes and early-morning departures left some relieved, some hoping to see new friends on the Advanced Course next year.

I personally am ready for some down time, and am looking forward to a visit with two new friends, one from the mountain bike race, one from the Basic Course, in Chennai. Mmm... warm weather.

Made it...

2009-11-12T07:35:00.000-08:00

Wow - that was definitely interesting. I learned a ton of old-school and expedition-specific techniques, a bunch more Hindi, and the names of about a quarter of the students. I thought remembering eight English names on a 3-day Rainier climb was hard...

A three-day march brought us to Base Camp, complete with generator and electric lights, 10-person canvas tents, a stone shelter with propane stoves, a cook staff, and the biggest pressure cooker pot I've ever seen. Porters carried up daily fresh vegetables and eggs, and the ten goats I watched being weighed at our first camp were regularly made into mutton stew. (I love the idea of being able to pet my, or my fellow climbers', dinner's fuzzy nose.) Once a week there was even a "mail run" - money could be given to a porter who would bring back sweets or TP the next day! Crazy expedition stuff.

Over 18 days of hiking in and practicing around Base Camp we covered ice climbing, crevasse crossing, basic snow skills, navigation, and height gain. Some things were the same, some from about 20 years ago, and a few things were just straight-up new to me. Such a strange mix of old and new techniques. Fortunately, a guy who works with a climbing-certification organization paid a visit as well, so I wasn't the only person insisting on crazy things like manufacturer-specified angles of ice-screw placement.

And despite being the "slow" instructor, both in the speed of my students and my non-understanding of daily instructions in Hindi, everyone was great, super helpful and largely indulgent of my ignorance of daily camp workings. On top of it, I had to take my turn as Duty Instructor, responsible for making sure everything happens on time and in line. But I don't know what I'm supposed to be ordering or finding out during morning parade, let along the Hindi words for "attention" and "at ease"... (Actually, I do now - Sabdan and Vishram, in case you ever need to know.) One of the hardest things I've ever done, truthfully - maintaining a (relatively) even keel through not knowing what's going on, trying to suggest improvements while not being condescending, and generally having to sit back and watch a situation I would normally be at least partially in charge of run completely differently.

My basic goal of understanding more of how climbing works here has definitely been accomplished. Larger goals will come with time - I intend to do more with the programs here, though I'm not sure yet in what capacity or timeframe. Down from the mountains now, we're back to more ceremony and logistical management than activity, and I'm about ready to go. A couple more days of graduation rehearsals, assessments, etc, and I'll be on my own again, in charge of my own time. Amazing how important that is when you don't have it.

79 Rock-Climbing Students on the Wall

2009-10-24T06:27:00.000-07:00

(...sung to the tune of 99 Bottles of Beer) A week here at NIM's Basic Mountaineering course has gone relatively smoothly and we're about to head up into the mountains for 18 days of mountain skills. The last week has been spent on logistics and basic rock climbing skills, and it's time to find some snow.

All in all, I'm actually pleasantly surprised by the whole system. I'd heard many things about the army-based teaching system and the comparative isolation of the climbing community and techniques here. But despite some rather old-school equipment (gear is not only subject to up to 50% import duty, but comparatively very expensive relative to earnings) and techniques (I've never actually done a shoulder-body rappel!) the teaching progression is quite good and remarkably effective for a group of 79 students!

This group is broken into rope teams of 5-7 students, each with an assigned instructor for practice sessions. So there's a lecture on rappeling, for instance, then I take my 6 ladies (17-40 years of age, 3 different languages) and we practice the skill. Always with some time constraint, but with the ability to show details and ask questions. Turns out, this is the first Basic course that has been offered co-ed. There is always (has been since the founding in 1968, admirably) a women-only course, but just one a year. So this is an experiment in mixing the Basic course; usually only the very advanced courses like Search and Rescue are mixed. So far it seems to be going well - my group is usually slower (than the guys or the other women), but the instructors have made the logistics work around this really well.

On the flip side, I've learned things like how to rappel with a rock hammer, normally used to place pitons (amazed picture with one of two foreign students, right), pack with canvas stuff sacks, and sit separately from the students. I've gotten slightly used to being addressed as "madam" in India, but it's proscribed here by the military setup of the place - students and instructors/staff are very much separated. They get their cafeteria food (Indian curries and chappatis) by standing in line past a serving window, we get to sit at a table and have it brought to us. I understand why it works this way, and it does work, it's just tough for someone who never (never?) thinks of herself as better or more worthy of not sitting on the ground than anyone else.

So things are good, and we're headed up into the mountains for 18 days tomorrow. Porters, canvas tents, afternoon tea, and some time up high! See you soon...

Vacation

2009-10-15T05:33:00.000-07:00

Really, this isn't as selfish as it sounds. But rarely do I (do any of us!) get a complete break from others' demands on our attention, time, or schedule. So I've got a week in Rishikesh, in the foothills of the Himalayas that produce the Ganges river, to just read and run and hike and... do whatever then heck I want! When I want to! OK, so I'd love a fresh hummus sandwich with lettuce and tomatos and pickles and onions and mustard (yum!), but you can't have everything.

Rishikesh the tourist town is separate from the actual town, suitably populated by weathered beard-wearing men dressed in the holy color of saffron, variously wandering about, reading languages I can't (yet), and/or asking for money along the well-traveled pedestrian corridors. There are more Hindu temples here than I can pronounce, which means there are as many Indian tourists as foreign ones, all targeted by sellers of an assortment of jewelry, sandalwood, cowboy hats (really!), clothing and blessings - a tikka mark on your forehead, say these words, here's your string bracelet, donation please?

But it's close to the mountains, so there are some beautiful places. A twenty-minute hike reveals two waterfalls, dammed up to make pools to swim in, and just beyond, a valley filled with rice fields and simple houses. Locals as well as tourists come to swim in the falls; I watched three skinny local boys swimming in their underwear once a middle-aged white couple had gotten out, followed by the too-cool boys from Delhi who were still silly once they jumped in and ruined their styled hair. The air was cool in the shade, and the forest green and teeming with butterflies, so different from the dust and smells of the city.

I hiked most of the way to a temple, deciding I didn't need to hike the rest of the way downhill to actually get there. (Who builds a temple halfway down a mountainside, anyway?) Funny how even a simple walk can feel like a story, like you're in a pilgrimage or travel essay if you let it... Two stoned men sitting in the path feeding monkeys ("good monkeys", I was informed) with monkey snacks so I could feel their tapered fingers on mine, then offers of various versions of a smoke. A little further on a couple shyly posing for pictures with their camera and mine, delighted at my offer, likely because they knew I wouldn't disapprove of their intimacy. Reached the top of the hill to find cell towers and a farm but no temple - that was downhill again. Ah, well - maybe next time.

Rafting, reading, and just enjoying my own quiet space here. Next up, headed to the Nehru Institute of Mountaineering to see what I can contribute there. I'm supposed to be helping instruct their basic mountaineering course, starting with walking uphill and ending with ?? but I'm not sure how I'll fit into their military hierarchy, especially as a woman in a relatively conservative region. Huh. Well, some of us are going to learn something, not sure who...

Hogea!

2009-10-08T05:04:00.000-07:00

Hindi for: Finished! I managed to stay healthy, the ribs do seem to be fully healed, and I learned a ton about how to fix and maintain my bike in response to various breaks and failures. Brakes? Who needs 'em? Oh wait - I do, and now I know how to adjust my disc brakes to keep riding the crazy downhills we were sent on. The generosity of two French- and English ex-pats living in Pondicherry kept me in spokes (four broken over nine days!) as I bombed my way down that uneven terrain, and lots of TLC kept the rear shifter working despite needing a new cable. The bike needs a new chain, brake pads, shifter cables, and derailer spring, but it made it. Whew!

The course from Shimla to Manali was largely the same, but with harder climbs and longer days than last year, a challenge to be sure. I felt like a stronger rider this year, though - that hillclimb up Mt Baker and paying attention to my technical riding helped. Around 60 people (mostly Indian) started the race, and only 35 finished! A few downhill accidents early on, but mostly just the daily grind of so much vertical gain and mileage, about 75km and 5,000' of gain per day on surfaces of varying quality, from beautifully smooth tarmac to (mostly) broken tarmac/gravel to these obnoxious cobblestones that slow you down on the descent, let alone an uphill effort!

As with last year, my favorite part of the ride is just getting to know people over 10 days of being tired, happy, hungry, discouraged, relieved, impatient and resigned. You can't fake it for that long, especially working that hard. So a few more friends here, people I'll look forward to meeting up with again, either on a bike or not. And of course, there are the random people you meet along the way - a woman who took care of my cold soggy self by the fire on our one day of rain waiting for the other riders to come, an old village woman delighted to have us take pictures with her flowers, the hoardes of kids endlessly amused by the instant gratification of digital images, and all of the people who made this event happen, many of whom didn't really know what to make of this crazy mud-covered lady riding with a bunch of men.

There were only two women riding, and the sponsored Nepali mountain biker was far stronger than I. So I managed to get second - sweet! We found out later that the organizers had tried to cancel the women's prizes since there were only two of us, and were informed of the error of their ways. So all went as advertised, and the prize money nearly covered my plane ticket over. I would have been happy just to complete the event, but racing for position is a good change for me. I don't think I need to do this event again, especially trying to schedule work around it, but might do more bike touring here in the future.

Back in Delhi, I'm sitting in an "American diner", complete with old CocaCola advertisements, car memorabilia and rock-n-roll playing for ambience. There's Heinz catsup on the table, but menu offerings like "Chips and Salsa - Pringles, Dorritos chips and Potato wedges served with jalapeno salsa" and pomegranate smoothies. Close...

Off to a fantastic start

2009-09-25T05:59:00.000-07:00

So I do seem to have largely avoided jetlag - don't know quite how. A little tired, certainly, but not falling asleep in the middle of the day. 12 1/2 hours is a lot to get used to!

It seems surprisingly normal to land here on my fourth trip. Not like home, exactly, but without that sense of excitement of going to a new place. I pretty much know how things work (or don't, as the case may be) and where I'm going.

But that doesn't mean things aren't going to be interesting. The bike I loaned out at my departure from Sikkim in the spring is here in one piece, but some of those pieces are a little... missing. Missing part of the headset (bearings and top cap) and the nut on the end of the quick-release skewer for my back wheel. Really, when you're disassembling it, it IS important that all the little pieces get in the box! So a miracle part supply by friend Dickie and an hour drive later, I'm trying to figure out how much I really know about bike parts - I know what this bike mechanic is doing is wrong, but not quite what is right. In the end, I took most of the pieces home and put it back together myself - hope this works!!!

We'll find out. Heading up to Shimla in an hour and the 10-day race starts on Sunday. Hope my bike works, hope my ribs are truly healed, hope I can manage not to get sick... definitely always an adventure. Here goes!

Up, down, over!

2009-09-20T05:23:00.000-07:00

Three more laps on the mountain and a great hike with some friends to finish off the season. The good weather continues to hold, at least mostly...

Didn't miss much up on the mountain, in fact it was a great time to be gone. There had been some pretty horrendous weather on the mountain, and between that and the resulting avalanche danger, no one had summitted for over a week by the time we arrived. Garrett and Lhakpa Sherpa went up and kicked in part of the route the first day, and Lhakpa and Seth went up the second day and did more work. Turns out all the snow and wind actually filled in some of the big crevasses we'd had to use ladders over. They took the ladders out and we walked over the snow again! I turned around with a climber on this first trip - the potential disappointment inherent in any climb. But with the help of some other guides in breaking trail, they tagged the first summit in 9 days.

One last hurrah in the Northwest before heading off for many months: hiked the 18-mile Enchantments loop with several friends in one long day. Perfect weather - it got really hot just once, and we managed to jump in the closest alpine lake for a quick swim. You know the water's cold when there's still snow melting in the other side... Walked out in the dark, but had a great time through some beautiful terrain.

Last two trips: I ended up staying in camp on the first one with a climber who suddenly realized he's not a climber, and got more sleep than any other three day trip this season. A beautiful sunrise. That group went down and I stayed to meet the next group, a crazy bunch of Brits who had just climbed Mt Adams. The forecast was completely bad for the next morning, so we took our strong group and did a sunset climb the second night. Beautiful and, even better, a great call because the weather was in fact crappy when we woke up - no one summitted that morning. That's what we call sneaking it in.

One day in town and off to India! Let's see how this one goes...

Off...

2009-09-07T13:56:00.001-07:00

Mmm... a nice long break, and only a mini-expedition. Took a few days off, then cycled up to Port Townsend to visit a friend there, and on to Bellingham to see a couple more people. A few sprinkles the first day, but otherwise nice weather, and the blackberries are out!!! Plenty of time to stop and enjoy roadside berries, perfectly ripe and more than I could possibly eat. At one point I was picking faster than I could eat - double-fisting it!

Then, because working the body hard sometimes feels better than not, up to Mt Baker, site of a regionally-famous hillclimb race. I had to pack the panniers (bike bags) for a combination of social and recreational destinations, so went pretty light on the camping gear. It's 35 miles from Bellingham to the town of Glacier, at about 1000' elevation. From there the road goes UP, gaining 4,000' in another 25 miles, much of it right at the end. So I went as far as I could the first day and camped at the higher campground, 52 miles from Bellingham.

That made the next day a little easier, only 12 miles (but UP) to the end of the road at Artist Point, then all the way back to Bellingham, making 72 miles, but largely downhill. A friend joined me for the last 30 miles back, psyched on a new roadbike and looking to ride.

The funny thing is, I can feel the difference in my legs from only a few days of cycling with weight - went for a run and felt strong on the uphills. MTB Himachal here I come!

Rainier and more Rainier

2009-08-31T14:11:00.000-07:00

Yes, it's the bread and butter of the summer season, especially now that it's late in the season, when most mountain climbers have moved on to rock or other objectives not dependent on glaciers to get where we're going. But not here - we have trips scheduled through the end of September.

The problem is, well, the mountain is falling down. We've had such amazingly good weather this summer that I actually haven't taken my goretex out of my pack for the last two months! Very uncharacteristic weather for the Northwest, and it's telling - the glaciers are in the condition that they normally are at the end of September, not August.

We saw a major rockfall go over the trail to high camp that we had been on only two hours before, and I've had not one but two rocks, one melon-sized, the other microwave-sized, cross our rope (ie: go between two climbers!) on their fall-path down the glacier. Rockfall = not cool! Just keep walking, and let's walk a little quicker through this area, please.

In addition, the route itself has gotten interesting as we've tried to maintain a safe path through the many crevasses that have now opened up on the route up the mountain.

As of my last trip, there were two ladders (one consisting of two lashed together!) and a very narrow scoot-around with a line to clip into in case you fall. Who needs the Himalaya - we've got it right here!

I'm not tired of the mountain, in fact it has been fun to see it change so much over the course of the season. But I'm tired of only having three days to try to get to know people, be involved in their lives and goals, and then say goodbye again. It's time for a break or an expedition, or both.

Here and there

2009-08-12T17:16:00.000-07:00

From Bonanza straight to Rainier, then a little time off and do it all again...

I also got to teach a private 5-day skills course on Mt Baker, the last of the variety scheduled through the end of my season. Two guys wanted to learn all about snow travel and safety as part of their skiing excursions and possible future glacier trips. Quite refreshing - it's not often that we get people who say, "yeah, the summit is cool, but we really just want to learn more skills." Sweet!! A fun week.

In between, a friend and I volunteered for a local cycling event near Mt Rainier to gain admission next year. Driving back we had to stop for this:

Bonanza!

2009-07-29T11:38:00.000-07:00

Mary and I had been talking about this mountain, highest non-volcanic peak in Washington, for a while, and she had been there previously with a friend who convinced them not to bring the right equipment. It's located on the eastern side of the Cascades, and we decided to go the long way, 22 miles through an area called Spider Gap which I'd heard was beautiful, instead of the "short" way up Lake Chelan and through Holden Village.

Forecast: Hot and sunny. Sweet! We crossed over Spider Gap early the second day to some amazing clouds pouring over the mountains to the east. Beautiful meadows down below, amazing alpine lakes, and dramatic peaks for a backdrop. Hmm. Wonder what those clouds are going to do...

On the third day we bushwhacked around the head of the lake and up the classic Cascade configuration of scree field, rocky cliff, start of glacier, crevasse navigation, and dicey transition to rock. We'd heard many things about the rock - loose, hard, easy... In the end, it was a great 4th class scramble (ie no ropes needed, but don't fall) up fun features to the sharp ridge and summit.

Unfortunately, the vista that greeted us as we gained the ridge included a big thunderstorm not too far away and headed, yes, directly for us! We don't get thunderstorms much here, hardly at all, but the unusually hot weather was breeding cells in the east that were moving west.

After a few minutes on the summit trying to convince us both that it wasn't headed straight toward us, we got off there as quickly as possible - I had never had a near thunderstorm experience, and was entirely OK with that!

The rain started as I headed down the first rappel, light and sound coming closer and closer together as the storm moved in. I was at the next station getting the rope sorted out when that characteristic buzzing started (more like a series of tiny pops between the metal in my helmet) and saw and heard the strike at exactly the same time. Looking up 150' of rope to where Mary was still perched on the ridge, just 40' below the summit, I yelled up, "Are you OK??" She was, though we're both pretty convinced it hit the summit, just meters from where she was. Wow.

She came down and we continued rappelling as the rain eventually stopped and the storm moved on. Another cell just side-swiped us, dropping a little rain but no big strikes. Whew! We took our time down the rest of the route, making our way back to camp in the dark.

The walk out gave us more of the afternoon-rainshower experience as we passed many dayhikers from nearby Holden on our hike out the long way. My favorite image: five cotton-clad hikers smooshed in next to a tree trunk, doing their best to hide from the downpour and stay warm before making a 6-mile dash for it. I donned my garbage bag-cum-rain skirt and we walked on...

Back in the saddle

2009-07-18T19:06:00.000-07:00

Two weeks, four climbs, and my faith has been restored in guiding. Back in Seattle and the Cascade mountains for the summer, I finally had some good trips and am ready to go.

The nice things about the DC route are that we don't have to carry much equipment (read: light packs!), there are lots of people to see and talk with on the mountain - our guides, other guides, rangers, enthusiastic independent climbers - and with a little work the route is short and sweet. Throw in some in-shape, prepared and interesting climbers, and climbing Mt Rainier is fun again!

The weather is beautiful in Seattle, even hot, and it's peach and cherry season. Cotton dresses and amazing fruit - what more can a gal ask for??

First summit of the season!

2009-07-06T17:00:00.000-07:00

Had to take some time off and climb on my own with friends Mary and Erin. And anyone who knows us individually, let alone collectively, could probably guess that this would not be a very serious affair...

The ladies' climb somehow ended up incorporating the ridiculousness of plastic tiaras, and the Independence Day holiday necessitated flags and pinwheels as well for camp decoration. My theory: You don't see too many all-women climbing parties, for whatever social reasons. If other climbers see us climbing with such silly accoutrements, they must realize we aren't too concerned about our chances of making the summit, and are comfortable in this mostly-male environment. Plus it's a good conversation starter. *grin*

The Emmons route on Mt Rainier is less travelled than the other common route, the Disappointment Cleaver (the one I'll be on the rest of the summer) for two reasons. One, you can't see the trodden path leading all the way to camp from the most popular visitor center in the park - it's a hidden path leading through the trees to a camp you can't see until you're there. And two, it's longer, with more elevation gain - over 10,000' from trailhead to summit.

We hiked up 5,000' to Camp Schurman on the first day, then took the next day, July 4, off to talk with the rangers, sleep, enjoy the view, and watch the fireworks twinkling down below once dusk fell. You can see the balloons of sparkle from Seattle and the casino in Auburn, and countless little fountains of light from countless small towns and private homes. It was windy, but we occasionally dashed out from the ranger hut to check it out, then bundle back in where it was warm.

And we almost didn't make it out of the hut. Warm and cozy and full of people to talk to, we almost just stayed and hung out in the tin-and-stone ranger cabin - summit schmummit. But Mary rallied us, we went and made our "breakfast" oatmeal, and set out into the wind for our climb. Seven hours later, as the sun rose higher over the Cascades and Puget Sound, we wandered onto the summit and had some kind stranger take our (slightly ridiculous) picture. Yay! Cold - let's get down!

Back to Schurman, four-hour nap, and a long slide down the snow slopes to the three-mile hike back to the car. Stinky (it's amazing how smelly you can get in three days) and tired, I slept in the car while Mary and Erin stayed up for the drive back (thanks!!). Good to be out with friends...

Konichiwa ... Sayonara

2009-06-30T10:04:00.000-07:00

Wow - that was an interesting trip. Three weeks on the glaciers, two different languages, one very frustrating trip, and no summit. Actually, the weather was not too bad (one 5-day storm at high camp, but not crazy) and everyone seemed to leave OK with how things went, but we had the perfect summit day and weren't able to capitalize on it.

The problem: an older group with inaccurate expectations combined with a trip leader/translator who wasn't willing or able to guide effectively.

Denali is perhaps the hardest of the well-known mountains to climb. Everest is higher, harder to make it to the top, but Sherpas carry all your gear - you don't have to haul heavy loads, just stay healthy. Denali is two weeks of carrying 60+ pound packs, often coupled with 40-pound sleds - not an easy thing even if you've trained for it.

Instead, several of our climbers kept asking for lighter loads and slower travel speeds. But you can't leave your food behind (and I'm not paid enough to carry a 120-pound pack), and we were already the slowest group on the mountain. There are some things you can't change if you want to make it. 35-pound packs were referred to as "heavy" and our already conservative pace was too fast. Not a good sign.

We lost one climber on a carry to 16,200' to chest pain - not good in an older smoker! His teammate went down the next day when he couldn't make it to the first break without sitting down in a heap in the middle of the trail. The rest of us made it to high camp (17,200') just in time to wait out the storm, but in all honesty it wasn't brutal, just long. Our fearless interpreter nearly lost heart, but our last possible summit day dawned clear and calm. Sweet!

Unfortunately, one of our climbers pooped out after half an hour, and park regulations require that clients be accompanied by a guide even in camp. I turned around with him and another we didn't think would make it and warned repeatedly: If anyone else has to turn around, we're out of guides and the summit bid is over. If you don't think you will make it the whole way, spin now or risk the group's success. Sure enough, two hours later another climber was done and the only person who actually should have been on the mountain (the guy with the vodka below) had to come down without the summit.

What to take from this? Robert and I are both pretty culturally sensitive, have travelled extensively, and want to get people to the top if it can be done safely. But we couldn't communicate directly with the climbers, and the translator often wouldn't manage the group as we knew needed to be done to have a successful climb. He hadn't been on the mountain before and didn't like to be the bearer of bad news - a bad combination for a place as demanding and potentially dangerous as Denali.

But I met a bunch of other guides and rangers I'd seen in passing before, built some relationships with them and got more comfortable on the mountain. Robert was great to work with, and everyone came back with all their fingers and toes (how do you ask if someone can feel their fingers if you don't know their language?). My nose didn't fall off this year, and we flew off the mountain just in time. So we'll send some extensive notes to the office, hope there are more realistic expectations next year, and avoid the Japanese trip if not!

It's beautiful in Seattle and I'm back, and life is good.

Off to Denali, round 2

2009-06-06T22:02:00.000-07:00

I had gotten time off this past weekend to go do a triathlon with Mary, but this spring's injury meant I couldn't train. So Mary, after an epic time getting a functional bike at the race location, rocked the house without me. (Nice work!!) Instead, I did a reprise of last year's glacier skills weekend with some friends I'll be climbing Rainier with after Denali. More beautiful weather in the mountains!

This stretch of sun is more than a little unusual for Seattle, and everyone is a little loopy with it. The highs in town were up into the 80s, and the day I flew to Alaska the forecast was 90 degrees! Heat advisories were being issued, skirts and shorts and bikinis were being wantonly flaunted, and I finally wore the pink dress that I bought in India last fall. Yes, pink! Especially crazy is that 90 F (32 C) is relatively balmy in most of India, but in Seattle, a heat advisory is actually probably a good idea. Ha!

A few days here in Talkeetna, packing food and getting ready for our expedition, however, has made us ready to fly into the land of glaciers just to escape the mosquitos. Mosquitos! So many of them it's hard to sleep; I'm looking forward to being in a tent just so I'm not woken up by their signature whine and inopportune landings. The lack of night in town means eyeshades are a necessity; on the mountain it means we don't have to bring headlamps. Ever. It's so light at 2am you could read a book outside! Wierd.

Track us at http://www.alpineascents.com/denali-cybercast.asp We're Team IX, Rob and Suzanne with the all-Japanese team. Yep - should be interesting. See you on the flipside!

Too good, too bad...

2009-05-29T21:09:00.000-07:00

The weather has been preposterously nice for the past three weeks, but that doesn't mean all is well. No storms, no sideways snow and buried tents, but my first summit climb was stopped cold by a serious (though injury-free) crevasse fall, and the second by the shifting snow and no-visibility of high winds on the upper mountain.

But the sun does bring out the silliest in us after a hard, cold winter. We're thinking about publishing a calendar of Alpine guides...

The chopper finally flew, poop from the outhouses down the mountain in big barrels, supplies for the season up. Nice to have good weather and a heli crew up where we couldn't see the next building last week.

So up to high camp, and up the mountain, and then 10 of us walked across a snowbridge that collapsed under our 11th team member, jerking one guide back several feet and eventually leaving our climber dangling unhurt but shaken about 15 feet into a wide crack! A large section of the bridge had fallen in, but once he realized he was fine and we'd get him out soon, he was singing and taking pictures down there! Back on the surface, the weather was too warm to continue up after such a delay, so we headed back down.

Second trip, another two beautiful days getting up to high camp. Lounging in the sun, enjoying the unexpected warmth in May, a typically tempestuous month. Summit morning, some high clouds started to block the starlight, then strong winds collecting snow over cracks and obscuring a safe route turned us back. On our way down we walked out of the lenticular cloud that now sat atop the mountain and headed down in sun but continued strong winds.

Ah, well. I won't mind leaving the mountain for a month and waiting for things to settle out, the summer route to be established. The weather is almost too good, very unusual for this time of year, and is making us wonder when the hammer will come down. Better run off to Alaska for a while...

Start of the season

2009-05-19T17:09:00.000-07:00

Headed up to teach an 8-day course on Mt Rainier, one designed to cover skills required for going on a guided Denali climb. As usual, the mountain decided to do a pretty good impression of Denali weather. Fortunately, we were able to utilize the stone-hut public shelter to get dry and warm and do lectures.

On one of the first sunny weekends of the summer, tons of people were out at Mt Rainier, hiking around on the snow in various dress shoes, jeans, sunhats, and other inappropriate mountain gear. So close to the trailhead you get all kinds, many of whom had never seen people like us hauling extra gear on sleds. People-watching goes both ways, apparently.

Our first night was nice - great view from low camp, perfectly still winds, everyone excited to be on the mountain. The next day, we decided to move to Camp Muir to avoid the incoming weather in the form of rain - getting high would make it snow, much less uncomfortable.

Ah, the incoming weather. Four days of sideways snow (is this sounding familiar?), winds of 50 miles an hour or more, trying to make life pleasant in our limited sheltered space. At the height of the storm, the last night, our climbers were shoveling around the clock trying to save the tents and themselves. Well, that's how it can get on Denali...

The weather finally broke into two beautiful days, and we put all the rope travel and crevasse theory into practice by running through crevasse rescue techniques on the Kaulitz glacier. Most people find going into an actual crevasse to be one of the highlights of the trip. I mean, really, how often do you get to safely do that??

Best of all, we used our sleds to speed our descent on the last day - funny to watch a whole rodeo of mountain sledders heading down the slope! Beats walking down any day...

Now headed up for two summit climbs before getting ready for Denali, and the weather is actually supposed to be decent for much of the time. Here's to good climbing!

Back in the whirlwind...

2009-05-08T21:22:00.001-07:00

Came back to Seattle and had a week off, and I'm not really sure where it went. Getting over jetlag (perfectly 12 1/2 hours off!), catching up with friends after four months away, a bit of exercise and trying to organize all of my gear... suddenly a week is gone and it's time to work again.

I headed down to Bend, OR, historically home of beautiful spring weather in the nearby climbing area of Smith Rock, for a three-day recertification. Every two years our Wilderness First Responder first aid has to be renewed, involving discussions of frostbite, fractures, altitude, and anything else you could have trouble with in the backcountry. I got to pretend to have asthma, a spontaneous pneumothorax, and a broken shoulder for practice over those three days. And it wasn't nice weather - it snowed on us all three days!

Back to Seattle for guide training/orientation with Alpine Ascents. We headed up to El Dorado, had two days of decent weather, then four straight days of full-on storm. Sideways snow, drifts building up around the tents - it was fun. On the last morning, two tents collapsed as we packed up and headed down, glad to be leaving the mountains for now.

Today was nice in Seattle, thankfully. I'm not quite sure I'm excited to be heading back up into the snow tomorrow, but it's time to start working. My rib muscles are feeling good, almost entirely healed, and I'm looking forward to the season. Back in a week!

Mumbai

2009-04-20T19:28:00.000-07:00

...felt different than the other cities I've been to in India. Most of it is because it's a more business-focused city, the financial hub, much like New York would be. The bustle of business people moving about felt more focused and less chaotic than Bangalore or Delhi. It's also by the sea, the first time I'd experienced the ocean here.

The ocean means many things. It means there are fishing communities, and the slums that accompany this industry. It creates a shore, that defining edge of land that evokes perspective and a sense of openness. It enables landmarks like Mumbai's Gateway of India, a monument to "the landing of their imperial majesties", the king and queen, in 1911. And it means it's humid as all get out.

You can take a one-hour boat ride to Elephanta Island, site of many ancient caves, one of which still has amazing carvings hidden inside. There are actually three villages on the island, a captive population to hawk the many trinkets and clothes ubiquitous at such tourist destinations.

Having just finished the book Shantaram, I knew many of the names and landmarks of the city, but with no reference to geographical location - it was interesting filling in my orientation with the legendary Leopold's, Colaba Causeway, Marine Drive, and others. I stayed close enough to be able to walk to many of the sightseer's destinations, but far enough from the tourist area to disassociate

myself from it. I hate staying in tourist areas.

There are an incredible number of old British-raj-era buildings that may still be in use, to some extent, but are in the inexorable process of mouldering and falling down. It's a bit like one of those movies where humanity has abandoned a city - plants and vines creeping up walls, watermarks staining the outside walls, dust and decay setting into the books and furniture inside. My sister would love it.

Next to all this, of course, are skyscrapers and innumerable miles of congested residential maze - I took the train 45 minutes north of downtown to meet Harsh, injured cyclist from the Sikkim ride, and other friends of friends living in the more populated suburbs and witnessed, among other things, the Oberoi mall. Walking in was weird - I could have been in any bright fancy mall anywhere else in the world.

Hilarious observation of the week: Apparently the trend of artistic decoratings of some theme animal has arrived in Mumbai. But what animal for a city in India? The water buffalo, of course. A series of brightly-painted offerings were displayed in a tiny garden near Churchgate station. Ha!! Gotta love it.

I didn't get to a couple of things like the Haji Ali mosque and a museum or two - have to save something for the next time...

Back to the mountains

2009-04-12T18:55:00.000-07:00

The Nehru Institute of Mountaineering (NIM) is one of four government mountaineering institutes in India. It is heavily subsidized, and teaches everyone from lowlanders who have never seen the mountains to those who grew up in the Himalayan foothills the skills of mountaineering. Three- and four-week basic, advanced, and search-and-rescue courses begin with walking uphill and end with technical climbing and rescue techniques.

I had originally planned to hike up to meet two of the courses - a basic course and a search-and-rescue course that a friend was on - but my delay by injury meant the courses were on their way back. But despite my imposed physical limitations, I was well

received and made a great connection with the Vice Principal, one Major Thapa, who I look forward to working with in the future. We had time to discuss many aspects of the climbing establishment in India and, more importantly in the short term, arrangements for me to return in the fall to work with one of the courses as a guest instructor.

Friend Sujay's search-and-rescue graduation formalities included the display of ceremonial NIM sweaters, a rite of passage he had experienced twice before on the basic and advanced courses. Nice!

With some of my readily available time to myself, I walked down to the market in town. Four women who had been walking around NIM earlier met up with me and invited me to their house the next day after a friendly, if quiet-ish walk downhill. Why not?

Her house turned out to be one of those two room affairs tucked next to the market road, one room for everyone to sleep and the other to cook. Her family was either gone or kicked out, and the afternoon was spent looking at pictures of their family and friends and utilizing their limited-but-much-better-than-my-Hindi English to exchange basic life stats. They are all about 24 and unmarried, and traditionally generous to their visiting guest. The ceiling turned out to be a little low for me (probably wasn't planned with 6-foot foreigners in mind!), but the company was fun, and I look forward to seeing them on future trips to NIM and the town of Uttarkashi.

Intermission

2009-04-04T04:43:00.000-07:00

I decided to postpone the mountains for a week so as not to tempt myself into further injury, so instead went to Bangalore for a week of rest and visiting friends I met on last year's mountain bike race. My last visit involved lots of running and cycling, but this time I'm fairly boring - "resting" isn't quite as glamorous and definitely not as conducive to good pictures. (See, you all want me to get better, too! ;-) I'm finally seeing some progress in healing, so will try to persevere in the resting effort. *wry grin*

So instead, more impressions of the crazy mishmash that is the cities of India:

One of my friends noted that if you wanted to bring the US to its knees you wouldn't need terrorists. Just abduct 10 Indian auto-rickshaw drivers (the ever-present three-wheeled open-air taxis) and set them loose on our roads. Then sit back and watch the crippling chaos. Just imagine trying to drive in a city full of them...

At the relatively healthy food market nearby, I can get a half-pound of red grapes, eight little Kerala bananas, four local oranges, and a miniature cantelope, all amazingly tasty, for 99 rupees, about two dollars. The same money gets you a tea at Coffee Day, trendy cafes modeled after the coffee shops I'm accustomed to at home. A muffin will be another family supply of fruit, please.

The autorickshaw driver stopped at a shop on my way back from central Bangalore this afternoon to buy oil for his vehicle's two-stroke engine. The oil-wallah filled his empty oil container from one of four juice pitchers on the counter holding different types of oil. I love that there's an everyday bypassing of the excess packaging we can't let go of in the US. On the other hand, the practicality of this arrangement is potentially offset by the likelihood that the oil is dirty, or sub-standard, contributing to the incredibly high levels of the pollution in the city.

What to do. I love many of the chaotic overtones of daily life here, their difference from the sometimes restrictive or excessive habits of the US. But I'm finally listening to my friends' observations of the negative aspects of their continuous practice. No place is perfect - I guess we just have to find the balance we're willing to put up with and keep trying to make it better...

Up and down

2009-03-26T03:46:00.000-07:00

Up to Sikkim! Whirlwind flights and buses landed me in Gangtok, launching point for another mountain biking event in this tiny Indian state tucked up against Nepal, Tibet/China, and Bhutan. Late, of course, due to little information on schedules and transportation in any event literature. But in time for dinner and meeting up with many people from last fall's MTB Himachal, putting my bike together, and preparing for the next day's start.

After the usual speeches and bagpipe band, we wound through curving mountain streets until spitting rain and the realization that we were ahead of the guide vehicles (and off route) drove us under whatever eaves were nearby. An hour, much confusion, and two false starts later, we arrived at the starting point for the first timed stage. This is the second year of the race, and things were still not worked out properly. Start times were 4 minutes apart to ensure good timekeeping and rider spacing. But with two at a time, 50 riders, and 10-minute gaps between categories, that meant the last people were waiting for 2 hours! Cold and bored... Things were better next tim, but some folks still got in after dark.

The second day was nicer, and a little smoother, but I managed to get not one but two flats on the downhill race stage, the only kind of terrain I have any chance of getting a decent time on! Sheesh. That's as many flats as I've had in all my cycling days! Then a long uphill race stage, followed by another big uphill grind to camp. Are we having fun yet? I elected to ride in the Army truck once done with the racing. Yup, wussed out.

By this time, however, my lower ribs, strained by so much coughing recovering from bronchitis, had worsened from the exertion of mountain biking (OK, and skiing, but it didn't bother them much at the time!). I didn't want to quit, but sneezes were excruciating and it was starting to affect day-to-day activities, like lying down to sleep. No more riding for me. Boo. I lent my bike to someone with a really crappy cycle for the rest of the ride and gathered emails from some of the various Indian, Canadian, etc riders that are the real reason I come here...

But to distract from that: as I was riding in the support vehicle the next day, taking a rest/decision day, a friend that I had finally met on this ride had a bad crash. Arriving on the scene before the ambulance, which never actually came, I and several other people ascertained that nothing was life-threatening, but definitely messy. Knees, elbows, side, and particularly face were pretty well scraped, and half of one front tooth gone! The army doctor eventually arrived to treat him there, and a visit to the local hospital finished cleaning him up.

With Harsh out of commission and headed back to Delhi, I decided to follow to discourage myself from foolishly opting back in. After the drive back to Gangtok, we were able to take a chopper back to the Bagdogra airport for only Rs 2000, about $40! Nice views, though the high Himalayan mountains so close to Everest were clouded in.

Back in Delhi, I've gone to a recommended doctor who frowned, ruled out cracked ribs with an x-ray, and basically said I'd pulled all my lower rib muscles. Rest until they get better - nothing that uses them. Huh. That's pretty much everything I do, and definitely out of line with my scheduled activities! But I have to be completely better by the time I'm scheduled to work again in early May, so hopefully that motivation will keep me in line. Ah - travel, reading, and sitting around eating too much, my favorite. I'm still going up north to Uttarkashi to meet with some mountaineering institute folks about future work/collaboration - I'll just be careful... *grin*

Solang

2009-03-17T22:25:00.000-07:00

...is a beautiful mountain retreat from the dust of Delhi, just outside the resort town of Manali. At 8500', it accesses peaks to 14,000' from the front door (that's a long day hike, but lots of ski turns!), and higher stuff with a few days' travel. Despite the low snow year there was plenty of good skiing, you just had to hike for it. And the mountain air has (almost) finally kicked the last of the lingering cough. Whew!

After a dayhike or two to acclimatize, Lin, Larry and I lugged our own gear up for a camping/skiing trip on Mt Patalsu. We set up camp in a beautiful a ski-in, ski-out location at 10,500' on dry leaves right next to the snow - nice to be fully out of civilization. Three days of skiing sun-softened spring snow tired out Balu the now-Delhi-based dog. She hasn't seen snow for a while!

The next trip was fully supported - carrying heavy loads is fine, but if someone else can do it... Four porters and a guide (Rinku) joined us for another 3-day camp on Brigu Peak, this time with a big tent and fresh veggies, dinner and tea provided. A rolling pin for the chapatti flatbread, iron handtool for digging platforms - these guys don't mess around. And they didn't use the backpack's shoulder straps - instead wrapped a wide strap around Lin's pack and carried it traditionally on their heads!

Lin and Larry headed back to Delhi while I stayed for a couple more days of skiing and socializing with new and old friends there. Sunil and Ravi and Khem and I skied/boarded Gulaba peak, up one of the most harrowing roads I've survived (and there are a lot here!), complete with one-hour delay because a frontloader was, well, reconstructing the road. It took a couple tries, but the Gypsy truck did make it out... A beautiful day with great people.

A mad dash to the bus following lunch with the same folks, and a trust-requiring 13-hour bus later, I landed back in Delhi in that dim orange sunrise that comes from so much dust in the air. Funny to stuff my skis in the back of an auto-rickshaw here...

Manali/Solang is growing on me, and I might have to find a way to spend more time there. I'm looking forward to skiing next winter, hopefully with more snow!

Layover in Delhi

2009-03-03T23:28:00.000-08:00

Ah, travel. For fun and profit, yes, but currently blurring the line of fun. Though not taking care of myself is my own fault! Mostly over the bronchitis from Aconcagua, I've caught a nasty head cold on the plane to make up for it. My four days in Delhi have involved a lot of sleeping and wishing this cough would hurry up and go away. Sigh.

But it's spring here, so the scent and sight of flowers is wonderful - my October visits didn't afford such luxuries. And the exchange rate is at an all-time high/low - 51.8 rupees to the dollar, which makes my surviving this trip on tips from Aconcagua much more likely.

I got to catch up with a few friends here - lunch with Darvesh, tea with Dickie, and an evening gathering of several riders from last year's Himachal bike race. Fascinating conversations for those of us still trying to figure this place out - the nature of Bengalis, assignment of irresponsible development blame, the significance of hindi script on sweets.

Tonight Lin and I head north to the Himalayan foothills in Solang, just north of Manali, for some backcountry skiing. There's eventually going to be a short lift at the local ski slope, but it's been scheduled for opening "next year" for about ten years...

...in between...

2009-02-27T06:01:00.000-08:00

OK, so monster colds don't get better with the Mendoza treatment - staying up til 4am at the cafes and drinking lots of wine. But it sure is fun! After a few nights with our climbers and another group from the mountain, we spent a few nights in with a tasty spread of fresh fruit and tapas - little bites of olives, cheeses, etc. Enjoy where you are...

Back in Seattle, I thought I gave myself enough time to do taxes, take care of life stuff, and get ready to go again - ha! Managed to see some long-neglected friends in Port Townsend, though, a perfect welcome back to the Pacific Northwest. I love those quintessential Seattle moments - pulling away from the ferry dock, city lights on shore, mild night breeze bringing scent of salt water and seaweed. Nice to be home, if only briefly.

It had been beautiful weather in Seattle for the last week, and started raining the moment I touched down. But a night on my friends' boat brought another nice day and just enough time to stand on the rocky beach. A new front suspension fork on my bike, a few beers shared with friends, and taxes mostly done, I'm off for another 24-hour-plus flight itinerary back to India. Looking forward to riding, skiing, and whatever else!

Well done

2009-02-18T09:54:00.000-08:00

1) Congratulations. 2) Finished for the season. 3) Fully cooked.

Really, all of the above.

The trip was good. Five climbers and three guides (his private trip was cancelled, so another joined us) spent three days walking to base camp in crazy windy weather (but not snow like last time!). Our third guide walked out from base camp with one climber, and the rest of us continued up the mountain in usually good weather to camp three (19,200' or 5800m). Ben and another climber descended to wait at the ending base camp while I continued to camp four (20,500' or 6200m) with the remaining three climbers.

Summit day was beautiful. It snowed overnight, but we had an amazing sunrise with no wind and the clouds settled below us. A group came up from a lower camp to break trail just as we started out, and the many commercial and private teams scheduled to summit that day moved smoothly up and down the mountain. We stood on top about 2:15 and descended just ahead of the snow and wind that moved in that afternoon.

The air is thin at the summit - in millibars, the atmosphere at sea level is about 1012mb pressure. At the top of Aconcagua, it was 425. Less than half the available oxygen. If you flew someone to the top from sea level, they would be dead in 10 minutes.

Yet if you spend 2 weeks carrying heavy packs, breathing hard, and camping your way to 22,834' (6960m), you can stand on top with no more than a slight headache, if that. Amazing how the human body adjusts. But the top of Aconcagua is about the elevation that climbers start to use oxygen on Everest and other places. It is dangerous mostly because people underestimate it.

Back in Mendoza now, I'm fighting off a wicked cold that has gone around our team, and hoping that I get real health insurance before the part of my nose that always burns turns into melanoma. Relatively unscathed, and only 3 lbs lighter than when we started (people usually lose 8-15 lbs), I'm looking forward to fresh fruit, another shower, and finishing all my paperwork. It's nice to be back...

...and back up again

2009-01-29T16:14:00.000-08:00

A week in Mendoza has been well spent - about three days of letting my body recover, a few days of having the apartment to myself, and another three packing and getting ready for the next expedition.

I went running a bunch, including one three-hour day in the HOT sun - boy was I thirsty, but the run (OK, I walked up the hills) was good. Into the desert

on tilted plains above Mendoza, mountains on one side, city down below. Cooked real vegetarian food in the apartment kitchen, wandered around town a bit, and managed not to spend any money. Places to go with that dinero...

Things I love about Mendoza (I won't presume to all of Argentina):

- People will randomly help you bring groceries in from a taxi, etc, just to be nice!

- I can go running without offending anyone, unlike many foreign cities (Delhi, Mexico City).

- Taxis and fresh summer fruit are cheap!

Things I hate about Mendoza:

- The checkers at the grocery store might be the slowest moving service people I have seen. Ever.

- Absolutely everything involves meat. Even Oreos - in the States, vegan. Here, they have beef fat in them. Seriously!

- And, yes, it was 103 degrees today (39 C).

But at least it is a dry heat (aside from the occasional thunderstorm), and the huge shade trees the city was built around make things bearable if you're near a ceiling fan. The pace of life is slow, which makes burning a week here pretty manageable. And the wine is good.

So really a good week all around, and it will be good to head back to the mountain. A small group this time, one of whom I've climbed with before - should be good. We're off to the mountain on Sunday, back in a couple weeks! Track us - Team 10 - at http://www.alpineascents.com/aconcagua-cybercast.asp

Down from the mountain

2009-01-24T09:30:00.000-08:00

An awfully cold, snowy mountain for being Aconcagua in the summertime! We might have gotten snow on all but three or four days of a two-week trip. Afternoon clouds frequently engulfed the summit and spread snow down to various lower reaches. I don't think there was one truly hot day of the trip, including the usually-scorching three-day trek in.

Our group did great - mostly Americans, but an Aussie and a Brit thrown in for good measure, ages 25 - 64. Our Aussie had to leave us at camp 3, but the other nine climbers made it to the summit in less-than-ideal visibility. I stayed in the tent and slept off a fever and GI bug, but recovered by that evening and descended the next day without issue. Hmm - I hope my various India bugs haven't decided to stick with me! Dave and Lhawang were great to work with, some fun tent conversations and only a little kicking each other in our sleep.

Despite the lack of hot weather, there's no shortage of UV or just general harshness up there. Part of the recovery process back in town is just letting my nose and face sort out their various burned and chapped layers. Amazing how long it takes for this recovery - my muscles are ready to go, but it takes longer for this.

Now a week in Mendoza, where there is no shortage of heat. Today it is 100 degrees (or 38 C), certainly too hot to run and sometimes too hot to move much! Yikes! It's supposed to finally cool off tomorrow - whew. Hopefully some running, biking, reminding my body what it's like to move faster than 2 miles an hour...

The next trip leaves tomorrow, so the other two guides and their living room full of food will be gone, and I'll have the apartment to myself for three days. A little reading, a little cooking, a little relaxing - mmm.

Gone

2008-12-31T14:59:00.001-08:00

The day I arrived in Mendoza we went to a Tibetan restaurant at the suggestion of Lhawang, an accomplished guide of Tibetan descent who lives in San Francisco. The restaurant, Karma, is run by his friend who moved here with many others some years ago when they filmed Seven Years in Tibet in Argentina. I very much enjoyed my Indian curry (vegetarian) in this Tibetan restaurant in Argentina listening to... Alanis Morissette. Yep. Sort of funny, all around...

After a few days of packing and adjusting to the late-night dinner schedule (parents with kids sitting down at 10:30pm), we're off to the mountain tomorrow morning. Back in a couple weeks! We're team 6 - cybercasts at: http://www.alpineascents.com/aconcagua-cybercast.asp

Going, going...

2008-12-25T20:58:00.000-08:00

... almost out of town. Haven't seen the sun for at least a week, and it's supposed to start raining in Mendoza the day I arrive in Argentina. You've got to be kidding.

And just in case you're curious, no, the UPS people don't know if they have a package for you, or where your last Christmas package is, or how the main roads are. And they're tired of

running up your un-shoveled walkway and getting the truck stuck in the snow and trying to work through a jam-packed

cargo area while answering these questions. Just hold

on and try to remember that Christmas will still be here whether you get your presents or not.

With all of the snow that must be falling in the mountains, I haven't actually gotten to go skiing, just working to recover financially from three months of playing! But I finally got around to waxing the skis and getting them ready to go for my return from down south - more ironing than I've done since... the last time I waxed skis. Priorities.

A huge thanks to those friends who have given me a place to live for the last month. But I'm definitely excited to get back to guiding work - being in town is really hard on me. The last time I was in one place for more than 10 days was two winters ago in Utah! Time to get out...

But it's getting better

2008-12-18T11:08:00.001-08:00

This is what winter in Seattle offers for those of us who foolishly risk Seasonal Affective Disorder and Vitamin D deficiency - snow! Mary and I went for my first foray into the mountains (yikes!) since Thanksgiving and were rewarded with a perfect day - quiet, fresh fluffy snow, and just enough of it to be fun.

I finally made it to Annette Lake - the trail crosses some major avalanche paths so is unsafe and sometimes unfindable for much of the winter. We brought snowshoes but didn't need to use them, preferring instead to enjoy the feeling of ankle-to-knee-deep powder. Fun! Plus I re-found a great hat I'd forgotten about, which added to the ridiculousness.

And now it's snowing in Seattle for the second time in a week! Totally uncharacteristic - it's usually warm here next to the water with plenty of snow in the mountains - but nice because of that. Won't be biking today - work is going to be interesting!

December in Seattle

2008-12-10T10:14:00.000-08:00

Really isn't all it's cracked up to be. And it's not cracked up to be much, so there you have it. The nature of guiding and expedition work makes it highly subject to change, so instead of going to Argentina this month, I'm making ends meet here. Fortunately I have incredibly generous with whom to stay whether they're in town or not, so have a roof over my head. Thanks!!!

Got a job for the month with UPS during their busy holiday season, and signed up to do deliveries by bike in a small neighborhood in Madison Park. Interesting, yes. Fun? Well, only when the weather's nice. *grin* I guess it's getting me used to cold and obnoxious weather again after some time in India.

But it's work, and I'm grateful for that!

"Desert"

2008-12-01T20:35:00.000-08:00

Went to Phoenix for Thanksgiving week to visit a friend there and get some much-needed Vitamin D (ie sunshine). Of our six days there, three were rainy. Here's some pictures from when it wasn't raining...

Mary and I went for an overnight backpack into the Superstition Mountains - does range-naming get any better than that?? Being rainforest dwellers, we were fascinated by all the dry and pokey things.

It politely waited for us to be back in town before raining for three days. But we went to Sedona anyway, where we felt right at home in the cold mud. The top of Wilson mountain was less than vista-filled, but Kim assured us this was a rare treat - usually people are getting second-degree sunburns on this hike!

But the sun came out for our last day in Phoenix for one last dose of Vit D before heading back to Seattle - you guessed it, 48 degrees and misting. Ah, the Northwest in fall.

A quick tour of the east

2008-11-20T19:11:00.000-08:00

Unpack, repack, and head three more time zones over to see folks on the east edge of this continent. Is it still considered a red-eye flight if you're already not sure what time it is?

Jordan is still adjusting to life back in the States, specifically Connecticut, having recently finished her Peace Corps stint in Samoa. We walked around her new campus, met similarly adventurous friends and peers, and I got to enjoy the remains of a New England autumn, as did she, apparently.

Back to Boston to see old college/Seattle friends, run along the Charles River, and appreciate the city. We finally made it to the beach for a gorgeous sunset walk - though cold and windy, it was fun to be out with no agenda, just catching up.

Down to DC to visit my folks and some old Seattle friends living in a surprisingly nicely wooded neighborhood just minutes from the Beltway - a deer wandered through the yard! Some quiet catching up time with my parents a little farther south and one more chance to enjoy the crunchy leaves. This is my half of the annual family picture, which has turned slightly less serious in recent years...

One last stop in Denver/Boulder to see my sisters, both going to school and settling in for a hopefully less-severe Colorado winter. Sunny and warm during the day, cold at night, and a huge sky with amazing sunsets. What's not to love?

Re-entry

2008-11-06T12:16:00.000-08:00

…is being particularly hard. Flew through Seoul on my way back to Seattle, catching the election results as I got off the plane for my layover. One of those where-were-you-when moments.

But though I have only been in India for less than six weeks, the same as last year, everything feels more familiar, and my jet-lagged brain isn’t ready for the States just yet. It’s weird, having become automatic even in such a short time, not to:

Flip light switches down to turn them on
Walk and drive on the left
Bring my own toilet paper everywhere
Use fingers to eat
Pay next to nothing for good food
Be different than everyone around me
Engage the organized chaos of traffic
Decide if directions or advice are actually accurate
Expect random crowds of staring onlookers, anytime, anywhere

Oddly enough, I’m still dreaming in India – waking up, I’m confused by the readily available English all around, the coats and fancy shoes, the briefcases and sense of self-importance, places to be and things to do. Ramblings about why and how are more than need to be discussed here…

One day in Seattle, and I’m off to visit friends and family on the east coast. The grey and rain and cold of the northwest was a bit of a shock, but now that I’ve traded my sandals for warm shoes and sparkly pinks and oranges for brown, I’ll figure out how to adjust, eventually.

Bangalore

2008-11-02T12:02:00.000-08:00

Spent a week in Bangalore visiting friends from the bike race, doing a little climbing, a little running, a little biking, and meeting their friends in the city. The camera charger I got to replace my missing one wasn’t exactly functional, so I’m again lacking pictures, but am hoping other folks who took some will come through.

Walking past a climbing wall outside Kanteerava stadium my first day, I saw three women resting at the base – three Indian women, climbing! I talked to them for a bit, and they turned out to be two of the South Indian climbing champions, headed to nationals in Delhi next month. They were the first outgoing Indian women I’ve met yet, and it turned out that one of them was our guide for a day of bouldering south of the city later that week. Shanti was an amazing climber, fun to watch, harder to emulate, and always encouraging.

Having brought my shoes and pedals, I borrowed a bike to join Samim and Nilesh and Rohan for a ride at Nandi Hills – Sam rode there, caught up with us on the hill, and rode back to Bangalore while we took the car to the bottom of the hill to ride up and single-track down. Nellie really wants to develop the mountain biking in the area, so they negotiated with a local woman to figure out when and how ladders could be built to make a few too-rocky sections ridable.

Otherwise, spent my time running in the morning with Sriram and other new friends who recognized me on the path (nice to be overly conspicuous sometimes!), seeing a few sights, and wandering around my area of the city. One evening I got to be the trailing car for a ride to Nandi hills! Driving on the wrong side of the road wasn’t bad, as I was following them at cycle speed to keep everyone from getting run over by traffic – exciting nonetheless.

Now back to Delhi for a cycle friend’s brother’s wedding – should be interesting, as I haven’t seen the whole Indian wedding scene yet. Meeting up for lunch with a client from this summer who was climbing Island Peak with Alpine Ascents in Nepal and is flying out of Delhi the same day I am. What a funny, tiny world! Still haven’t seen the Taj Mahal, let along Rajastan, Goa, Sikkim… I’ll have to come back.

Check it out...

2008-10-29T00:37:00.000-07:00

Took the overnight bus to Bangalore this weekend, and have been hanging out with friends here that I met at the bike race. For now, check out this link to a CNN/IBN special on the bike race we did. 15 seconds of fame, baby!

This YouTube link is best: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xx2YvSJ-Fpc
(the second half is in "Related Links" to the right)

http://ibnlive.in.com/videos/76808/mountain-bikers-at-shimla-romance-the-harsh-trail.html
(broken up into four segments online - click on Videos: 1 2 3 4 below the frame)

Hands on rock

2008-10-27T23:55:00.000-07:00

Note: Lin generously supplied photos due to a mis-match of my technology. I promise to put more up next week on returning to Delhi...

There are times when it seems like the whole world has been discovered, mapped, tapped, and been-there-done-that, looking for the next thing. But if there has been one overriding theme here for me, it's that the natural places of India haven't been tapped at all. Toni, Japanese, living in Hyderabad, has been developing boulder problems in the large rocks just four minute's walk from his apartment. He's working to map climbing problems, meet and encourage new climbers, and help protect the park from development, a serious threat in this rapidly expanding tech-boom city. Solang sees an incredibly small amount of mountaineering traffic, and has tons of potential for un-skied backcountry terrain. The climbing in Hampi is practically limitless, and there is rock in Mumbai, Pune, Bangalore...

I forgot how fun it is to climb when you've actually been practicing! Two days in H'bad, four days on the sharpstone in Hampi - this might be more rock than I've been on all year! My (and Lin's and Nishit's) fingertips got hashed for a few days, but now they're starting to toughen into the callouses I used to know. I'd better get out onto the artifical wall here in Bangalore tomorrow, just to use them.

Hampi was a really neat place - I'd heard lots of serious climbers talking about it, read about epic trips there, but didn't really know what to expect in terms of terrain, people, climbing, etc. The town itself is based around ruins from about 1350-1550 AD (I think), with tourists of all nationalities coming to see temples, carvings, etc scattered from the main center on the river to sites many kilometers away. But on the other side of the river there are still rice fields and water buffalo, graceful white birds and bananas and papaya being sold by the road. The climbers all stay here, where it is peaceful and quiet and less than half an hour's walk from the clean-enough (maybe) tin-roofed room you've paid just two to ten dollars for, mosquitos and all. So what that the power is off daily until noon, and again from 6-7pm? Food is cheap, you can avoid the stoned Israeli population with a little work, and there's really not a lot else you have to do. A local rock guide (the only one!) showed me and Lin some easier problems, then we hooked up with bike-race friend Nishit and his mentor friend for some problems that made me remember how good it is to finish a challenging line. My fingers are a little torn up from the sharp granite, but it feels great.

The funny thing? The guide and our two friends (from Pune) were the only Indian climbers in the whole place. The season is just starting, so things aren't crowded yet, but of the 20-25 climbers I met and saw, they were the only ones! There are plenty of historical and social and economic reasons for this that I could ramble about for a while, but here I'll just say that I look forward to an expanding national climbing community growing from the work and encouragement of those who are out there. Keep climbing.

Another glorious adventure

2008-10-17T09:30:00.000-07:00

Well, once again, the mountains do what they want, regardless of planning. The monsoon stayed late this season, and the fall weather patterns have continued to be generally unusual. Generally September and October are a great time to climb in Manali/Solang and the northwestern Himalaya, but the rains stayed well into September, and the weather has been uncharacteristically unsettled throuch most of October.

So Lin and I set our sights on a shorter-expedition peak, only 4-6 days, but I again managed to get sick on day 2 (this isn't a habit I'd like to cultivate), this time with Giardia, a nasty stomach/digestive bug. Check that off on the life list of things I don't need to do again. Concerned with being alone at base camp in a compromised physical condition, I headed back down to Solang to recouperate while Lin headed up Shitidar peak, about 17,500'.

They had fabulous weather through summit day, climbed well (nice job Lin!), then got chased down the valley by clouds and snow the next day. Perfect timing! The weather forecast was for continued unsettled weather. Sure enough, I saw a newspaper story on our return flight to Delhi about the rain and snow that arrived there just as we left. I'm feeling rather thwarted by these mountains, and may have to spend April next spring just camping out, skiing whatever looks good when the weather clears.

On arriving in Delhi, we spent the day doing laundry and going to the IMF, the Indian Mountaineering Federation's headquarters where they have a climbing wall and bouldering area. It has been a while since I've spent much time on rock, so we figured we'd warm up before our next chapter of adventuring. In one of those only-in-India moments, however, we ran across the production of a segment of Indian Sesame Street about climbing, on location at the IMF! Grover and his young friend had just finished a climb and were feeling rewarded but tired, Grover falling asleep on his friend's shoulder. How funny!

From Delhi we headed to Hyderabad to start a more south-Indian itinerary of touristing and climbing. Today we just wandered around this tech-central city (there's actually a district called Cyberabad!), checking out Charminar mosque and the garment variations introduced by a predominantly Muslim population here (as opposed to mostly Hindu in the Delhi area). A different type of architecture from a different historical background - beautiful.

Tomorrow we'll sightsee for a bit, then meet up with a local climber for some bouldering - there are beautiful rocks scattered on low outcrops throughout the city, so there must be some good terrain somewhere. Looking forward to getting hands back on rock...

What a ride

2008-10-08T05:54:00.000-07:00

That was, indeed, interesting. One never knows what to expect from an event like this, so it's always interesting. Unfortunately, I had a crazy stomach bug for two days during the race, so didn't complete days two and three, and therefore wasn't in the running for any competition. But there were a total of six women riding at various levels, and about seventy men - Indian Army guys, an organized Aussie group, the barefoot farmer who completes this every year, and many amazing Indian riders from Bangalore, Delhi, and Pune, some competitive, some here for the same reason I was, just to see if we could do it. Nine days, 32,000' elevation gain and loss, 650 kilometers.

The actual logistics included staying in canvas tents set up for us each night by an industrious crew in various school grounds and cricket fields, and mostly Indian food served buffet-style until we couldn't eat any more. Each day saw a variously ignored start time, usually with a freeride section before the first of two or three race stages. I'd never done a stage race before, but the idea is that you have to ride the whole distance over the day, but only certain sections are started in a race format and timed. Finish that section, ride along at your leisure to the next section, and race again. Eventually, get to camp, take your bucket of hot water into a little personal bath tent, splash around with the soap until clean, and get ready to do it again tomorrow.

Terrain? Well, in the mountains there's rarely much flat ground, so days were spent variously climbing and descending 2 to 10% grades, sometimes in race stages, sometimes at whatever pace you wish. On a good day (for me), the road was decently graded, with at least some sections of pavement, making for relatively smooth going. On a bad day, the road was either broken rock or these incredibly obnoxious slate cobbles, laid with the sharp edge pointing up, or an 11km bike-and-hike through steep forest and hillside. Most of the time it was a mix of dirt and gravel with the occasional large rock or muddy section thrown in, and of course a landslide or twenty.

The monsoon this year stayed much later than normal, ending perhaps only a week before the start of the race, so there were a huge number of landslides all across the state of Himachel Pradesh. One or two days saw the entire course rerouted to get past still-closed roads, and every day saw many spots where rocks and dirt had been mostly pushed aside, leaving compacted bumps to remind you to look up to the fresh dirt of the collapsed hillside. Local workers were clearing this stuff by hand, piling rocks and scraping mud aside to open the roads that keep them connected and supplied. Fun times.

The most enjoyable aspect of the ride for me, however, was the people I got to meet. From all over the world and mostly all over India, there were sponsored racers, casual riders, adventure racers, military branches, and a few who had just started biking. And being around the same people for ten days, you get to see a lot about them, much like climbing in the mountains. What they're like when they're tired, hanging out, hungry, overheated, cold, frustrated, racing, taking it easy... You get past the barriers of pleasantry and start to glimpse peoples' motivations and weaknesses, dreams and disappointments, vision and history. We're all standing around waiting an hour or two for dinner - how did you come here? Lin's friend is the hub of the Delhi cycling community and I ended up hanging with a cadre of Bangalore racers and riders, learning and joking and having time to just be.

Probably 30 people were actually competing (the prizes were not-insignificant sums), but many others were there largely for the experience of riding that far for that long and seeing some breathtaking terrain. It is beautiful here, and everyone I ran into was great. Stops for chai, kids cheering by the side of the road, women in fields, men watching us ride through their village - what a amazing way to see this place. The race was actually incredibly organized, in an Indian fashion, with water and road markings and people to help just when it was needed. An incredible experience awaits if you ever want one...

Lin and I have stayed on just north of Manali, in Solang, preparing for our next phase of mountain climbing. The weather has been a little strange this fall, so our dayhike today will buy some time to see what the weather will do. If all's well, we'll leave in two days for a week or more trip to whatever the weather and snow conditions dictate. The good news is we're well-acclimatized and feeling strong, but we'll have to wait and see what the mountains let us do.

Shimla...

2008-09-26T10:23:00.000-07:00

Wow. Having been to northern India last year, I remembered much of the idiosyncrasies and chaos inherent in doing anything here, but trying to participate in an "organized" event such as a mountain bike race is a whole other ball game.

We arrived in Shimla from Delhi yesterday after a 11-hour drive that was supposed to be 8 (only 11 due to Ram's creative driving and explanations - I've never been a diplomat from the embassy before, at least not since last year), and I crashed out after we reassembled our bikes, still a little jet lagged despite a wonderful yoga session in Delhi. Today we had a nice short ride down and back up some hills here with a posse of other (Indian) riders, feeling good and excited about starting the race tomorrow. Following that, a little frisbee and a puja blessing ceremony for the ride. Then Lin and I were asked to accompany one of the organizers to the residence of the Chief Minister of Himachal Pradesh State for an audience asking him to be at our start tomorrow morning (international delegation here to see you, sir) only to be turned away. Bummer. Then off to tonight's orientation (two hours late, much to a German rider's dismay in waiting punctually) and headed for some good sleep.

Essentially, nothing is on time, even for an event such as this. Leading up to the ride, the schedule was for a rest day on Day 5, Sept 31. When we all finally realized that September only has 30 days (huh...), the decision was made to just push back the end of the race a day - something that would never fly in the States, but didn't cause much notice here. Essentially, whenever I start to wonder whether something will actually happen in any sort of functional fashion, the advice is to just wait - eventually it will get itself ironed out. And crazily enough, it usually seems to. Not necessarily on time - in fact, that's nearly guaranteed - but eventually. Hmm. We start the race tomorrow, landslide detours and all, and I'm sure, in the end, we will get there. Not quite sure how, never quite sure how, but here goes nothing... More in 10 days!

Closing down the mountain

2008-09-21T14:39:00.000-07:00

Two last trips up the hill to finish off the Rainier season. The first was in beautiful weather, the wind dying down just as we got up at 1am. A beautiful full moon, and a good pace to the top with a nice crew. What more can you ask for?

After a day off, my second trip started with more great weather, and an entertaining group of people. By the time we were at high camp, only four climbers and three guides were left (one twisted his knee a few days before, one turned around above Paradise, one reached her limit on the snowfield, and the fourth spent all he had getting to Muir and stayed there). Alas, the weather turned as we went to bed, with wet snow and fog throughout the night. We got to the top of the DC and turned there, happier to get down safely than get up in dangerous shape. A few hours sleep, then down to Paradise in the spitting rain. Summer, officially, is over - India, here I come!

Hike for Discovery

2008-09-13T20:02:00.000-07:00

If you ever want a really neat group of people, find some folks with the heartfelt goal of helping others while succeeding at something they've never done before. This weekend was the culmination of a summer of hiking for those to whom it was completely new, raising money for cancer research through the Leukemia and Lymphoma society. This program started with marathons and triathlons (Race for a Cure, etc), participants training toward a personal challenge, and has expanded to activities like hiking to allow those who might not run a marathon to reach the same goals of personal achievement and helping raise funds for cancer research.

Guiding through Cascade Adventure Guides with good friends Kim and Kelly, I took some of the 40 hikers on outings ranging from 7 to 24 miles - that's a big day! Under beautifully clear skies, we followed a newly-completed section of trail from White River campground to the Wonderland trail, then up through deep forest to the high alpine of Panhandle Gap. Perfect weather, a great crew, and mountain goats to boot!

Thanks to the organizers for an amazing weekend, and many thanks to those who are contributing time, energy, and money to make a difference in research, care, and a cure.

http://www.hikefordiscovery.org/hike.adp

More summer!!

2008-09-12T16:45:00.001-07:00

Just got done spending a few days in Ashford at the house Alpine has for guides to use. Went biking - on the Elbe Hills ATV paths, Osborne Mountain, and today up to Paradise and back. Since the India ride isn't a hardcore mountain bike course, I'm calling it good with road, logging road, and some trail riding.

Hiked up to a lookout near Osborne Mountain, High Rock Lookout (very imaginative naming), at the high point of my ride for a beautiful view and the first ripe blueberries and huckleberries of the season! (It has been such a cold wet summer that flowers and berries are very late this season, hence the bears still actively looking for food.)

Today's ride from Ashford to Paradise and back was long, but not as hard as I expected for 50 miles. The 12 miles from Longmire visitor center (2700' elevation) to Paradise (5400') took 2 hours to ride up and 30 minutes to ride down!! It's a good ride when you've got bugs in your teeth from grinning all the way down...

Summer redemption

2008-09-07T15:39:00.000-07:00

Wait, it's back! Summer has taken pity on us poor Northwesterners after months of being coy (ie non-existent) and given us a redemptive week of beautiful weather.

Not without working for it however. Our 6-day hike of the Northern Loop trail started with a hike out of Sunrise in the sideways-blowing snow. Welcome to Washington! Ten folks from around the country joined Kim and I for a week of deep forest and alpine meadows and generalized mountain appreciation. Unlike many groups, this one had no decompression time, no day or two of wondering where their Blackberry was or learning to look around. And (coincidentally or not) many of them had never been backpacking before, ever! But also unlike many groups, this didn't seem to make a difference - those who were new dived right in and came up looking like they'd been doing it for years.

After that first day, the weather was cold at night but otherwise nearly perfect. The summer was so cold and wet that wildflowers are still in full bloom and we even had to cross a patch of snow! This also meant that the blueberries were late in arriving, so we not only got to see amazing flowers, but lots of bears! Presumably they're still looking for food as autumn approaches and their berry supply has yet to materialize, keeping them searching closer to trails. Everyone in the group saw at least 6 bears, and one near Mystic Lake put in several appearances. Marmots, a deer, and the occasional pika - a good week.

On the last evening we hiked up to Skyscraper Peak for sunset, which has been an amazing after-dinner adventure every time I've led this trip. True to form, the mountain drew clouds around her to accent color and contour, obscuring and revealing for the hour or more that we watched the light change and fade. It's nice to see the mountain from below occasionally - sitting in a field or on a lower peak, looking at the snow slopes of camp and crevasse. A nice change, and beautiful end to a beautiful trip.

Summer going, going...

2008-08-28T12:17:00.000-07:00

Back on Rainier for a few climbs, and the weather is less than cooperative. I stayed up at Muir for two trips in a row, and our first had great summit weather. A bit of new snow gave the mountain a fresh dusting of white to show off features and cover up some of the dirt that blows off the ridges. It made for a bit of work - high camp had been taken down because of the storm and had to be re-set up, and two of our guides went and shoveled out a path on a steep section the afternoon before our climb. My next trip had good weather until summit night, when freezing rain was followed by high winds and a couple inches of snow. Potentially hazardous climbing conditions and likely avalanche danger kept us in camp - no summit this time around. We got off easy though - two days later they got another 2 1/2 feet of snow at high camp! Happy August...

I stayed in nearby Ashford (where there is a company guide house for us) for a few days after my climbs, just reading and trail running and making good food. There's a chill in the air even though all the snow hasn't melted from the lower elevations yet, and that sense that the flowers are about to be covered up again. A few more trips up the mountain for me, then time to think about plans for upcoming seasons.

Bugaboos

2008-08-20T11:42:00.000-07:00

I'd been up once before and wanted to go back, so Mary and I headed up to the Bugaboos, an alpine rock climbing playground on the eastern edge of BC in Canada. A relatively short drive and relatively short (though steep!) hike in with lots of gear, so off we went for a week.

It was spitting rain as we hiked up, then full-on sleet and wind as we arrived at the Cain Hut. This is no kind of weather for a tent, so we forked over the $25 per person to stay in a nice warm hut half-full of friendly climbers instead of hiking another hour to set up camp in freezing rain. This is what we call a "no brainer" - the day before, marble-sized hail had destroyed several tents camped above! The next day was similarly crappy, so there was lots of playing cards and napping and being social, wondering if we'd aver be able to climb.

When the sun finally came out, several parties set out ahead of us for the West Ridge of Pigeon Spire, an uber-classic 5.4 that's a great orientation climb for the area. Alas, the preceeding days had coated it in ice! Rather than make a very enjoyable climb epic, the 15 of us stared at it for a while, unwilling to turn back right away, then wandered off to scope out the conditions on other rock. Mary built a scary little snowman, then we wandered around the glacier for a while and took the long way back. Maybe tomorrow...

Went up the Cain route on Bugaboo the next day - I'd descended the route last time I was here, but that meant we skipped all the fun climbing. An interesting pitch or two made it much more fun than I remembered coming down. The next day, back to Pigeon Spire for a lovely day of ridge scrambling. Both days, we took far more time than most people do, and met (waylaid, harrassed, chatted up) pretty much everyone coming or going on the Snowpatch-Bugaboo col that accesses most climbs. Far more entertaining than actually climbing!

On our last day, we decided not to go for the big alpine traverse that we had gotten excited for and spent the day mostly wandering around again, traipsing around glaciers and sunning by a lake. We met some cool folks from Seattle, Boston, Mexico, France, Australia... While I don't support huts in the Cascades or most areas in the US, it is fun to have areas where they exist. Even without big objectives, this is a beautiful place - 'til next time...

Cascades

2008-08-02T23:15:00.000-07:00

Six-day courses, a backpacking catch-up trip, and a climb for fun - time flies when you're running around like the proverbial headless chicken.

Nice to come back from Denali to some nice days - the first weather-cooperative glacier course of my season was a great distraction from Alaska.

Then to the Enchantments with Lin. Neither of us had been to this limited-access, quota-governed, much-talked-about area, so off we went, no climbing due to my wrenched shoulder from a bike mishap. It's beautiful, it's true, but there are a lot of beautiful places in the world, and I've been to many of them. It is amazing for its access and proximity to I-90, but similar to other high alpine zones. We spent a valuable couple of days catching up from winters spent elsewhere, enjoying the lake and quiet.

On to Rainier with Rob and Erin and her friend Wolf. Despite working on the mountain quite often, it was nice to climb with friends, people who I'd trained with before and looked forward to hanging out with. Erin's friend's knee took him down early, but we had a beautiful summit day with few others around - nice to have the mountain largely to ourselves.

Now off for a little more work before some play time...

Denali

2008-07-10T20:47:00.000-07:00

Whew! That is a big hill, and a lot of time to spend in the snow and ice. For a first trip, it was almost too nice as far as conditions are concerned - we didn't have any major storms, no weather delays, and the lower glacier was still very closed up, unusually so for this late in the season. A late trip often trades warmer temperatures for worse weather and open crevasses, but this year seems to have provided the best of both worlds for our team; a couple of earlier trips ran out of time waiting for the weather.

I'd been to Alaska seven years ago, so knew what to expect generally, but hadn't gotten into the mountains, just looked at them. The Alaska Range is amazing. What struck me most was not its size, in area or height, but it's steepness. I'm used to smaller mountains here in the Cascades, and the sheerness of the rock and ice that surround the glaciers you stand on is intense. Not only is the place huge, but even once you understand that things are on a whole different scale, everything still towers over you, making you wonder if you would ever get used to it. For one thing, you don't have to fly onto many other glaciers - the flight gives you just a taste of how big it is going to be...

A three-week expedition requires enough food and gear that you can't carry it all at once, so sleds are used to get everything where it is going. Sounds fun, but is really a pain to deal with! Contrary to what one of our climbers (who left on the third day) thought, 50 pounds in your sled does not feel like 15 - it feels like 60. It still takes two trips most of the time, so except for summit day, you're really climbing the mountain twice!

We flew in on summer solstice, the longest day of the northern year, so the darkest it got was kind of a dusk, between about 1am and 3am. On the lower mountain, we moved during this time so the snow wouldn't be too soft to walk on.

Working our way steadily up the mountain, we moved first to 7800', then to 11,200' where we could get back on a day schedule, being high and cold enough for the snow to be good throughout the day. A rest day or two, then up to 14,200' camp, where the park service has a medical tent and rangers, and where most teams rest and wait for good weather for going up high.

From here, the terrain gets quite a bit steeper - a section with ropes pinned to the snow to use as a hand line and backup, and a beautiful ridge up to 17,200' camp.

High camp is cold and windy, and really just a staging ground for going up to the summit. We carried loads up, went back down, moved our camp up, and took a day to rest in the half-pressure oxygen of the high atmosphere, acclimatizing and gaining strength for our summit bid.

Winds were blowing a bit too hard when we first got up on summit day, but after an hour lessened enough for us to go for it. Not too cold, about 10 degrees, and we and another team left camp about 11am. We moved steadily up to Denali Pass, up to the long ridge, and eventually to the broad field below the summit ridge. A little slower, we climbed to the ridge crest and along it to the summit, stopped a few feet short, literally, by the tragedy described below. Not too many pictures that day...

We made it safely back down to 17,200', spent a might recovering physically and mentally, and made a long push down the rest of the mountain. Guide friends of Mike's made us water and dinner at 14,200' and we kept going to 11,200' for a couple hours of sleep before taking advantage of the colder nighttime hours to keep the lower glacier firm. We got back to the base camp airstrip 24 hours from when we left high camp - 2 vertical miles in that time. Wow.

Our climbers were amazing, staying strong and pushing all the way back down to beat a weather system we knew was coming that could keep us from flying off the mountain for several days. At base camp, we packed up all of our things and waited for the small plane to return for us.

Because it's not over 'til it's over, however, one of the gauges forced our pilot to make an emergency landing on the glacier below camp just after takeoff, and we piled everything out, prepared to camp where we were or climb back up to base camp. He did a test flight and decided the gauge was faulty, and after a second takeoff we made it back to Talkeetna. That's a lonely place to be standing on a glacier all by yourselves.

Many personal thanks to my lead guide, Mike, and everyone else I had the opportunity to work with, both on and off the mountain. Many, many thanks, as well, to everyone who believes and understands that this is what I do, what I love and, hopefully, am good at.

Summit note

2008-07-06T23:14:00.000-07:00

One tragedy marred an otherwise great expedition: on summit day, at the top of the highest mountain in North America, Jim, one of our climbers, suddenly and simply collapsed. We gave CPR for over 35 minutes in an effort to revive him, but he never regained a pulse. Due to the steepness of the terrain, our quickly-chilling group did not have the resources to conduct a complicated recovery to bring him down; we simply had to say our goodbyes and bury him as best we could at the request of the Park Service. Two other Alpine Ascents teams summited a few days later, and were able to rebury his body in a more secluded spot, where it will likely remain.

Here's the Park Service's press release: http://www.climbing.com/news/hotflashes/fatality_on_mt_mckinley_july_4_2008/

As much as accidents and deaths in the mountains are often subject to endless debate and scrutiny, this is a rare case when there's really not much to rehash, fortunately for those of us involved. We may never know what caused his collapse, particularly if he remains buried on the mountain; he was climbing as strongly as anyone else, and had shown no previous signs of anything out of the ordinary, no trouble with altitude. He was climbing with a friend who was also on our trip, and as traumatic as it must be for him, hopefully some small measure of closure and comfort can come to his family through this friend's presence at his death.

We were able to get the rest of our team safely off the mountain with the generous help of many other guides and people both on and off the hill. Everyone we worked with has been incredibly helpful and supportive, particularly the NPS staff. They have to deal with this sort of thing regularly on a professional basis, but manage to do so while being incredibly human and caring on a personal level as well. Huge thanks for everyone's help, and many condolences to those who will feel Jim's loss.

Off to the (other) big hill

2008-06-19T10:27:00.000-07:00

Spring has been cold and wet and long in the Cascades this year, which has been great for the glacier snowpack but not great for my soggy boots! Courses led for Alpine Ascents went well, managed to tag the summit of Rainier a couple times, and now have left the northwest, just as summer is setting in, for Denali.

Writing from Talkeetna, I'm excited to get up on a new mountain. I've spent the last few days checking out the tiny town (a tiny little cemetary with figures from Denali history), watching the group before us get ready and take off, and getting everything packed up for our expedition at the little Alpine Ascents compound about 10 miles outside of town. We meet our climbers tonight, one of whom was on my trip this winter on Aconcagua, and hopefully fly on to the glacier tomorrow. Weather controls the flying here, so let's hope it holds.

We will have a cybercast going again, posted with several other Denali expeditions on the Alpine Ascents website: http://www.alpineascents.com/denali-cybercast.asp We are Team XI (eleven), and I may be calling most of the posts in, so look for me or the lead guide Mike online.

We fly the day before summer solstice, so enjoy the summer! I'll be trying to sleep in 24 hours of daylight...

On your marks...

2008-05-19T22:31:00.000-07:00

And so begins another season of Rainier and North Cascades climbing. Our Denali Preparation course was a mixture of terrible and perfect weather - great for preparing for the big hill. Thirty-one degrees and raining to bluebird skies and 80 degrees... you never know what you're going to get up there.

But we did get to summit of Mt Rainier, the first Denali Prep course of the season to do so, thanks to strong climbers, perfect weather, and a snowpack that was solid enough not to avalanche in the first warming cycle of the year.

Even better, with the sleds required to pull heavy loads on Denali, we were able to slide down the 4500 feet elevation back to the parking lot, a normally obnoxious descent in soft snow. Sweet!

A couple Rainier summit climbs and a 6-day glacier course will keep me busy for the next month while summer tries to arrive in Seattle...