Atomik Dry-tool Review: Part 2

3D and 4D ATOMIK prototypes.

Ouray looming a last-minute dry-tool-drunk decision fueled by Rolling Rock Tinnies facilitated by Simone's room mate Tanner when my Ipad wouldn't load the form several edits/tinnie later he e-mails me the form I run my wandering eye over it attach it send it Inshallah.

Speed Comp'? Really? Now I have done some longer routes in respectable times but the Bozeman trip was an outing steeped mostly in dry-tool lore though there was that Thrill Is Gone lead on borrowed rack rope in Fruit Boots no less whose idea was that?

RCC laying on the steel...

Enter Atomik to the rescue with prototype dry-tool mixes in red and black licorice colors 3D & 4D mixes loaded them up time to lay on the steel...

So we did. With Sizzla and Turbulence in the background Scout and I pull laps in the freezing space tools shift but rarely pop kind of like intercourse without the friction. Giddy without fear thick pads await the coming splash we bust 'em out tapping Shifts blaze it mon blaze it...

And the French want me back (I barely speak any French on a good day) so many Fetes so little time. I've done road-work that morning hi-stepping hill sprints to obliterate my calves but more seems like just the right amount.

And the Atomik holds? The  Patina Crimps Edges et al. that these are based on are by far and away their best dry-tool designs meaty yet requiring finesse would like to see this set expanded greatly into at least another twelve designs.

Scout executing the French technique...

Verdict? We liked the black ones. Color or consistency? Who knows. Dry-tool is not a science rather a passion or a diversion if not a dependency...

Yet the writing is on the wall what with a lackluster autumn the Ouray Ice Park just managed to open just inside winter proper Rosary Beads all around that a Typhoon doesn't wash all the ice away in the next three weeks.

And the Speed Comp'? I consult Nadya Gallyamova if the Russians don't know "SPID" then who does? 

Before the conversation goes all Cyrillic on me some guy chimes in;

"Eat lots of Nutella..."

Truer words have never been spoken...

Psychedelic Atomik Dry-Tool Madness

I had the Atomik crew pour me some new plastic my super panel felt a little too austere then there was all that beautiful open wood like naked belly on a girl. In time the new shapes came they saw the Colorado sky one bright afternoon one of those last no-longer-summer days yet deliciously warm. I promptly wrapped them back up in brown paper swaddled them like chilled lambs some days went by I trained around the box they lay in but by then it was time to eat sleep get up and do it again amen...

Saturday came an eerie chill settled in from the east I wore an old tat down coat  tried to envision intriguing movement then chose a blinking hold pencilled the bolt hole went at with rotary hammer avec 1/2 inch wood bit voila new feature. I had decided on some playground shapes they had crafted with TWO bolt-holes no less ostensibly so they didn't spin on a kids climbing structure what was immediately apparent was that mounted by only one hole the hold could be spun 180 degrees to create a different hold. 

Personally I like larger features more water to fish on so to speak then there's the hard vs. soft blend two consistencies which are purportedly like good ice or hard ice respectively I have no idea which they are sending me but these things are a blast to pull on. A certain precision is in order the polyurethane crisp yet rugged. In low light the tones glow seductively no I haven't tried a black light but I really must...

There isn't much ice this year thus far I prefer to bide my time so training is the order of the day.

And there's nothing like a brisk order...

Paradise...

How much fun is that?

A cold front blew through last night the dog and I stumbled about in the dark searching for the laundry line flapping clothes snapping there location even a few minutes of this was too much amid howling frigid east wind. The new Super Panel in my gym has been the focus of my climbing attention since the snow melted what there was of it anyway. Indeed an exceedingly dry winter 2011-2012 followed by record drought and heat this summer portends a dry autumn. The plastic holds bolted to my panel do not run in the heat if anything I am still thawing from the SuperCouloir epic last year. The heat was treat of sorts, "Some ice-climber YOU are..." my wife chided while I wallowed amid the scorching temperatures wincing at the mere whiff of snow. 

But then it came torrent of wet white flakes boring down at us as we hunkered in the hot tub naked wet bodies hidden from the onslaught within the baking water. By noon it was gone yet a chill lingered sky leaden brooding hauling ass off to enlighten Utah.

In fading light after repairing the boiler so our home had heat changing the oil in the Mini I cranked out sets of pull-ups amid the gloaming lifted sent dry-tool laps on fresh polyurethane from Atomik. A drip-drip-drip snow melting onto red crushed rock days drawing in wrapped in an old down coat missing teeth like some old fighter the laps went down battling back from some alternate universe where I don't spend X number of days scaring the shit out of myself and all those watching.

It all seems like such a great idea on a warm afternoon clad only in short pulling around on polymer holds in the third garage space in my house the searing cold  bilious flavor of fear all such a dim memory then the snow blows in and oh, ah yes! My feet lose all feeling old memories of chasing sensations flapping arms marble toes waiting until July before those numb spots on my feet come back to life.

Maybe the sexy panel bikini-wax smooth studded with jolly gaudy holds is just that dry-tool porn not the real thing the pump that lasts a week tops that wreak sweat French deodorant they never come clean and even the girls smell that way when they heat up at the crag...

So I step into the early light dog wild excited to be heading out to see the place the road ahead ground crunching by if it wasn't all so damn much fun I would quit.

And I will learn to surf move some place warm fall out a bit but this year I want to see for myself if winter comes back I still have some nice ropes tools boots...

And after all I just changed my oil.

Dry-Tool Party

The idea was to have a summer party horseshoes and barbecue then Jeremy came with his five beautiful children I got them cold soft-drinks they milled about so I asked Jeremy if they would want to try the climbing wall, "Sure," he replied, "Let's check it out."


What resulted was a seven-hour-long session in which all manner of adults, children, and sub-adults cranked around my climbing gym. The new Super-Panel was a big hit with its user-luscious Atomik holds although all of the surfaces were mobbed.


When you train in your own gym alone much of the time watching other people swarm about can be very cool indeed. People climbed barefoot in borrowed rock-shoes open-hand and dry-tool some of the kids in particular were enthralled sending non-stop having to be dragged off the wall by their parents when bed-time rolled around.


Me I put in one demonstration lap early-on but afterwards was too busy supervising other than a brief dinner break the wall saw continuous use until well into the evening when the kids all went nighty-night and the adult swim began.

Under the pulsing Kingston Jamaica sounds the dry-tool enthusiasts sampled the new Super-Panel with its awkward incline mix of slippery dishes and occult drilled pockets. Waiting in the wings the standing new panel waited in great patience to be set but this was not to be. The night belonged to climbing not engineering quieter times being needed for construction.


Can't wait for the Winter Solstice bon-fire & dry-tool extravaganza...

Climbing WELL Past 50...

The post-50 years period of a climber's life are fraught with peril. In recent years any number of high-profile climbing athletes have died heroic albeit regrettable deaths whilst climbing, John Bachar, Guy Lacelle, Charlie Fowler and Jack Roberts to tick but a few. 


A freshly-minted 50 I made a daring solo exit from the Box Canyon following my run in the 2012 Ouray Ice Festival Mixed Climbing Competition, Whit Magro later chastised me for my "WTF were you thinking?!"  (me being a married man and father)  so I got to thinking what takes over the mind of the seasoned climbing athlete and leads to calamity.


A quick review of the literature and acquaintances led me to identify three basic groups of post-50 climbing athletes they are:


1) Retirees- They gone...


2) Muddlers- Various old wrecks who can neither fight nor run away. They haunt the crags and climbing festivals in particular taking up space and drinking too much. If you are young and female avoid running into them at the hot-springs as the image of their sagging bloated pallid form will blaze its way into your retinas for all time...


3) Monsters- Think Lady gaga here, That boy is a monster, M-M-M- monster... lads and lassies surfing Hawaii 5-0 this is where you want to be, dignified pulling down and able to chat-up amiably those  young things.


Ah... But how?


After over 34 years of climbing hijinks I have an idea a formula as it were that has worked for me the salient points are thus:


1) Have a Life! The "all I do is climb" approach to long-term climbing survival seems like something of a blind alley. There comes that day when, having nothing to do, you go climbing when you probably shouldn't and the rest they say is a brief write-up in the early section of a climbing rag right next to the quick-draws-made-by-convicts advertisement. Had you gone fly-fishing that day you might have caught zero fish or got a hook stuck in your neck  but not so serious as taking the big Kahuna.


Family, occupation, other pursuits, all add to the complex mosaic of life, things to enjoy aside from time spent at the crag or on the hill. Life is all in the living spend all that time climbing and you will effectively miss the living.


2) Train... There is no way out of this box so best to embrace the pain. Once you have an actual life you will need to train to stay up to snuff for those less frequent albeit exceedingly engaging days on the hill.

The off-the-couch myth is exactly that, I can't recall how many times I've witnessed some aging hard-man turn up at the crag only to make a utter spectacle of themselves. We all have bad days (and hangovers) but if this is a pattern for you you should probably investigate entering group 1 above before you are forcibly recruited into group 2... 


3) Choose Wisely. Partners and projects. Don't climb with anybody who actively tries to kill you through either sheer ineptitude or belaying nonchalance. Avoid the Chi-Thief that "teats-on-a-boar" turd who invites themselves along then contributes absolutely nothing to the outing whilst simultaneously sucking all the oxygen out of the mountain air. The best partners are engaged, competent while setting a mildly competitive tone to the day exhorting-pushing you to climb harder and suffer more profoundly (and you the same for them). Cherish them...


Similarly choose your own projects that match up well with your particular strengths. A route must draw my eye, possess a commanding position, have steep bile-gulping mixed and ice terrain, I prefer a certain fierceness to a climb...


No climb or day of climbing is worth your life. Ice and mixed are very much condition-dependent so I will wait as long as it takes for things to be optimal before I start swinging. In 2011 I did the Direct Super Couloir a route I first attempted in 1988, again in 1989, then in 2005 and again in 2008 so a mere 23 years in the making. That's either perseverance or obsession, I can't decide...


4) Pare Down. Stay lean go light. Lugging a big pack around the hills not my idea of fun. When packing I have little patience for complex choices such as to which rope tools boots to bring so I have one set of tools one pair of boots one type of fruit boots one of two ropes to choose from. Decision made. Massed-produced climbing clothes makes for massed-produced climbers little climbing-gear mannequins running around the hills with their personal paparazzi to capture their every fart and grimace. I've got one outfit I wear for area skiing, alpine climbing or competition dry-tooling give or take a piece or two it's very loud so the chopper can spot me easily.


Sometimes I am a little light but I suffer through. It's called mental toughness.


5) Take Care of Yourself. Wear sunscreen a good helmet get some sleep eat right take time off. If you drink like a fish smoke like a chimney and eat like a garbage can you are not going to go the distance. Similarly extreme exercise programs in the interest in staying perpetually 25 will likely kill you early on. As of late a new type of climbing "athlete" has emerged the "perpetual train wreck" with a punch card at the local trauma surgeon's clinic. I sat/stood/fidgeted/drank through two of these slideshows at Ouray in 2012. Unbelievable...




6) Get Over It. We are all aging. How well you pull this off is up to you. You will be 24 years old for exactly one year so have fun then let it go.


7) Evolve. I climb a little differently every year. Crampons with straps leashes spurs have all come and gone and good riddance I say. When I started ice climbing in 1978 with hinged crampons and an ice-axe as long as my leg I could never have imagined a future in which dry-tooling on plastic holds with leashless tools was possible. Still, I have embraced the new ways even contributing to this ongoing evolution with a simple creed, if it involves ice tools I'm in...


Nobody likes an anachronism.


8) Keep at it. Let no day go by when you do not in some way prepare for your next climbing project be it a major route in the mountains a competition that first cold thin day that kicks off the season. One three minute lap on the power-panel if performed with gusto should suffice to make the forearms shriek. 


9) Crush It. You might as well. You can rest when your dead...


10) We Are All Going to Die. But not today...


Photo: Crushing-IT after 50. Image courtesy of www.coloradocrackgear.com.

ATOMIK Review: Part 1

There are certain manufacturers I quite like and ATOMIK Climbing Holds is one of them. They are for the most part quite cool and secondly their product is both exceptional in design and durability not to mention sold at what pretty much amount to wholesale prices.

I have used four different sets on my wall so I will discuss each set and their application, I am not endorsing any use I engage in with these holds so if you wreck your holds or knock your teeth out dry-tooling indoors on plastic then bear in mind dry-tooling is a winter pursuit and as such a dangerous one...

1. 13 Pack Sandstone: I only have ever used this set for dry-tooling as such they are pretty chewed up. Still they have been by far and away the most interesting set for this application of all time. Multifaceted with two aspects to many of the holds (you can flip them for a different hold) they have weathered the onslaught well, one hold broke early on when STRUCK by a guest who was climbing a tad too seriously and even that hold design has been replaced in the current set array. Another nice feature is most of this set have the pockets/edges ON the hold, they do not use the wooden panel as the back of the hold to be chewed up by tool use.They are also nearly indestructible, the two slopers provide sketch, have the crash-pad in situ when you huck for these. Probably their best set for determined dry-tool use. See them here:
http://www.atomikclimbingholds.com/products/215-13-pack-sandstone-climbing-holds.aspx

2. 10 Pack Sandstone Jugs: I never dry-tool on this set, they are too lovely for hand-climbing mostly I have been using them on my power panel but lately they have been migrating over to the super panel where they are ideal for glove climbing on the 45 degree surface. Being super in-cut and sharp they can be a little brutal but are so roomy you can "hool" on them (i.e., grab the hold with your fingers while still clutching the tool by the shaft, a handful but that describes my life to a T). I have these in earth tones which are very groovy for the natural wood panel, like everything Atomik makes they are super strong, in the past I have arranged these in pairs as pull-up sets on the power panel but I try and obey the maxim "A climbing wall is not a museum" so I move things about to hold interest. An amazing set, these would be buckets for dry-tooling...

http://www.atomikclimbingholds.com/products/213-10-pack-sandstone-jug-climbing-holds.aspx

3. 12 pack Large Divot Jugs: A newer set I am still setting, these are rounded open jugs with a big radius, all very sensual and at times challenging to use on the super panel. Mind you I am looking to make my training rigorous, I have been on too many cruel outings to think things are going to be easy on the hill so I plan accordingly. I don't dry-tool on these either, they are too pretty what in their Halloween color-scheme, instead I intersperse them amid straight-on dry-tooling holds. I NEVER mix use, if its a hold for dry-tooling so be it, if for hand climbing then no tools may sully the polyurethane. The beauty of these is the thumb divot which looks hokey but actually works brilliantly and how much fun it is to come flying off an 8 X 8 panel, just like real climbing...
http://www.atomikclimbingholds.com/products/292-12-pack-large-divot-jugs-climbing-holds.aspx

4. Simple 7 Large Jugs: A misnomer as there is nothing simple about these, they are cruel as intermediate holds amplifying the torment on le panel super why do in two moves which you can more assuredly fail on in four? Maddeningly tough to hang from I give it 50:50 when I head for one of these, sure I should be stronger but this is training, right? So let the games begin! In short I saw French ice-climbing legend Stephane Husson first seamlessly combine open-hand with dry-tooling a consequence of the then less than totally secure Ergo offset by the Gallic passion for limestone sport climbing. These holds are all that and a bag of chips...
http://www.atomikclimbingholds.com/products/165-simple-7-large-jugs.aspx


Holds I'd Like to Try: Atomik makes very nice sets, none of this 5-hold sets where you get two good shapes, one so-so and two crap shapes that seem to be the norm for most hold peddlers. Also they are not governed by a bunch of effete indoor-outdoor bouldering snobs who spend all their days making repetitive "send" videos and shaving themselves. The 12 pack Limestone Jugs look marvelous also the 12 Patina Pinches Pinches/Edges Dishes/Jugs look swell for the next dry-tool set (although some will need backing to avoid wrecking the wood). It is more a matter of having time to set these rather than affording them as they are quite inexpensive for what you are getting. I would also like to see Atomik develop a dry-tool specific line of plastic specifically for dry-tooling the Russians already have...

Lastly indoor is for me more than just training it is the lab where new ideas and techniques are sussed. I don't want to necessarily be a better climber (whatever that entails) but I want my climbing to evolve and remain interesting. To this end indoor should be aesthetic with nice holds to climb on visually stimulating which is where color comes in, Atomik making some very nice shapes in very rich tones. For every hour I spend on the hill I likely spend 5 training, so with those numbers in mind the training thing has to be at least entertaining...

Dangerous days

"I've done... Questionable things."

"Also extraordinary thing; revel in your time."

-Blade Runner-

An e-mail from the blue got me started on all this, I was being asked for a route description for a line I had climbed solo on the North Face of Mount Edith Cavell in the Canadian Rockies back in1991. 21 years is a while ago but I had written the route up for the 1992 edition of the Canadian Alpine Journal so my written description in all its harrowing detail was there for me to consult.

That got me thinking about all the loony outings I've had many of them solo adventures from which I am quite pleased to have come back. I have decided to detail a Top 10 in two parts, here are my first 5...

Dangerous Days Part 1:

I. Edith Cavell North Face, solo: This route had been inspired by the antics of Slovenian alpinist Tomo Cesen who had purportedly done among other things the North Face of Jannu in the Himalaya, solo in an unbelievable time. In retrospect a bunch of Russians climbed the face in 2004 using siege tactics the route being both unbelievably difficult if not thoroughly hostile. Still, at the time an article I had written for Mountain Magazine on climbs I had done on the Grandes Jorasses North Face appeared in the same issue as Cesen's recounting of his Jannu and Lhotse climbs, I was certainly stoked on several levels. In September 1991 I packed my malamute dog Chamonix my wife Susanne and 5 month old daughter Simone into our Vanagon camper and set sail for Jasper, Alberta from Colfax, Washington where I was living while I attended veterinary College at Washington State University, we got there late in the afternoon and spent some time glassing the face. Early the next morning I went up after it and climbed the upper face in about 8 1/2 hours solo, it was quite an adventure probably more so for my wife who watched the whole thing through a 600mm telephoto lens. I called the route Tomoesque to reflect the source of my inspiration, this met with derision from the likes of Mark Twight and Joe Josephson among others. 21 years later I understand from the New York Times that Mark runs a health club that specializes in making its wealthy clientele puke during workouts, Joe has gotten bald and fat and the discredited Tomo Cesen's sons are now crushing it in the Himalaya.

II. Slipstream, solo: Another Canadian Rockies Epic (while on the topic), this one had killed several would be soloists one of which passed a party en-route then came back down sailing right over their heads. I did this one after several aborted attempts in early March 1992 in a little under four hours, it truly is one of the world's great ice routes. Although belittled at times in the climbing press it is very serious, the serac line at the back of the Dome Galcier cirque calved while I was climbing the route enveloping me in ice dust, I truly felt the breath of God upon me that day. A year later almost to the day three guys from the Seattle area were killed on this line including Mark Bebie who I had climbed in the Alps with in 1988...

Purportedly the route was only first guided in 2010 by Eric Dumerac who chose to rappel the route with his client!

You can read my report on this route in the 1993 edition of the Canadian Alpine Journal.

III. Les Droites North Face Voie Ginat: Mark Bebie and I did this route in 1988 on our first visit to the Alps, we went up after the first storm of autumn about the 31st of August, the first was thinly iced, only just in condition but we went up after it anyway. We had already done the Croz Spur so were used to the size of the faces in the Alps what caught by surprise was the weather. Throughout the second half of the ascent it stormed, on and off at first but then settled in with intent. Despite the deteriorating weather we kept at it and in the early evening I led the last three pitches up the crux waterfall and Scottish V section into the Breche where I subsequently collapsed utterly spent. Mark and I prepared a bivouac just below the Breche where in my wisom I had brought a half-bag (pied de elephant), I proceeded to pass out nearly freezing to death huddled in my snow hole, when dawn came I was genuinely amazed I had survived the night...

We rappelled down the chossy descent couloir on all manner of tat but what I remember most was an unidentified wall off to the north that sported a most attractive ice couloir that ran true to the summit, I resolved to learn the face's identity when I returned to Chamonix.

When we arrived at le Montenvers Mark who had decreed he would walk down to Chamonix thought better of it and borrowed 35 Francs from me for the train. We fell out over this as Mark wouldn't repay the sum, I eventually collected weeks later but hard feelings lingered, we did no more big routes together.

IV. Big Four North Face, Solo: After I got back from the Alps in 1988 I looked about for a project in the Washington Cascades. I new there was one road-side attraction the North Face of Big Four Mountain which I went to climb 10 December 1988 an early-winter outing with friend Alasdair Street and his chum. The face was icy with minimal snow complex but seemingly moderate the plan being to solo while they climbed roped. Said plan quickly tanked I was an aerobic monster after seven weeks in the Alps and quickly outdistanced them by mid-mroning they were far away off to my right and well below me, after solo-climbing a line probably now identified as the Spindrift route purportedly done in 1996 the weather tanked. No sooner did I summit then I was forced to retreat back down the face down-climbing and rappelling amid howling winds white-out conditions and roaring avalanches as the massive 4000 foot face funneled all manner of fury down upon me. I managed to get down alive bivouacked in the car but the lads didn't make it out until the next morning having retreated and bivouacked somewhere low on the face. That February I met my wife Susanne at the Vertical Club in Seattle wooing her with this pyrrhic tale, my last and only major solo effort in the Cascades.

V. The Drool: I had taken my son Cormac then 13 on an outing to the Redstone Ice-Fest in Colorado, billed as a winter extravaganza I envisioned a sporting time with the other climbers something along the lines of Festiglace takes Colorado. Conditions sucked though, it was too warm and when I finally located the event organizers it occupied at least three of them to belay Will Gadd. No matter. We eventually located the Drool and waited several hours for the ensuingVogue photo shoot to wrap up before I set off to free solo the thing. While my son watched and took some very nice pictures I cruised this 5+ wonder one of the best free-standing cascades ever. I climbed leash-less in fruit-boots driving my then new Fusion 2 ice tools even dropping a Shaka. I think my son learned something about his dad about focus and self-control as he grows into a man now it is a memory he and I will always share and call upon.

The climb itself was very steep snow fell throughout the ascent I made a point of doing all three pitches though the first pillar pitch is the gem. It takes one route to make a season this route plus a dry-tooling line I did at Hidden Falls End of Days really filled in the winter nicely.

Le Panel

After Ouray I always enter a time-space warp where I do little climbing this is not the first year this has happened so I know nay I welcome this lull. Not that I am depressed or bored sore at the outcome I just pour myself into this event leave it all on the hill as it were I relish the subsequent reprieve.

Still no way can I just lay about waiting for the mood to strike. On the outside chance I might want to send something later in the winter I must maintain if only for sanity's sake.

Enter Le Panel...

For a long time a lame wall of rough plywood occupied the North wall of our gym which sucked, everybody hated and nobody climbed on. A hang-board hung there for eons then the new Power Panel went up which was infinitely preferable for pull-ups then my elbows cried "no more" so pull-ups went out like hair-bands and pink Lycra.

I dreamt of a new wall steep pure smooth hung at a sickening angle then in the week before Ouray I scored at Home Depot screwing and gluing an 8 X 8 monster together that lay dormant on the gym floor like Godzilla in the Japan Sea "Do Not Walk On Panel" said the paper sign I stuck to it to ward-off foot prints a sentiment that was to prove eerily true in the coming weeks.

Back from Ouray I pondered a more pressing how to get the massive panel now glued and screwed in finality up off the floor and into position. Scout and I tussled with it but we could barely move the thing holding it up long enough to fasten into place was out of the question. "Think like a Roman" suggested Sue who knew of my fondness for feats of ancient engineering.

Which I did scooting the monster up onto a stack of bouldering pads before hoisting it into place by way of a Spectra harness affixed through the body of the panel a 10mm rope and Grigri affixed to the wall via an expansion bolt did the trick. We tuned the angle not too intrusive yet still nearly un-climbable the panel had to have rock-steady stability yet not pull the ceiling down so upon the bones of the old sucky panel a new facade emerged...

Le Panel.

I looked at it for days before having the guts to drill there would be no preset grid problems would be conceived of THEN drilled furthermore this would be a bouldering panel an idea that lasted exactly as long as it took me to drive back from Ouray contemplating the virginal dry-tooling potential that awaited once the new panel went up.

So I set a route using the new Atomik holds I had received bouldered it out and hopped onto my suspended tools before cranking out a line a little sore yet from my Ouray exertions but digging the angle you can see all that here:

https://vimeo.com/35855919

Lately I have taken to setting dry-tool routes upon Le Panel using a plastic backing that Metolius holds were once upon a time sold on cut to shape so that the beautiful wood isn't chewed to death. The results have been spectacular almost too good after all why go climbing out of doors when you have dry-tooling in your garage?

Never to fear the stainless bolts I gave Scout last year to project with in Rocky Mountain National Park at long last have found there way onto a route so finally after a month of indoor I am going climbing out of doors.

Blessed...

Ouray Ice Festival 2012

I sought to wear the competition jersey at Ouray if only for one last time. So I packed the Mini with all my kit plus Scout drove west by southwest through a Colorado largely barren of snow the ravages of climate change to painful too even look at. Arriving mid-afternoon we rolled out crammed our sacs with draws and rope staggered down into the floor of the Box Canyon set upon Seamstress a heavily machined dry-tool route that this year had an intriguing slip of ice along its right edge. Suiting up we entered into a discussion with some Bozeman folks intent on snatching the line for their top-roping, yes I was going to lead up, no that was not Tic-Tac...

I had come to climb, to train, to prepare for one last turn in the lists, that hastilude that is the Elite Mixed Climbing Competition so with a combination of ice climbing dry-tooling and rock-climbing I made the ice seam where I could do what I do best which is make good use of a small volume of ice. On-sight complete Scout headed up hugging the dangler until he was established, sends in hand we retired to our room, pints were opened, fists bumped, mind racing I slept not a wink.

The following day we went to look at Bridalvail Falls near Telluride, a most fearsome line in early season, blue and vertiginous. I had guided Susanne up this in April 1994 but today was not the day. The Fang presumptive Grade 5 offered more opportune sport, it looked like a toy ice climb from the road, how hard could it be? After an hour plus breaking trail we stood below it "five maybe six screws" quipped Scout, I was certain I could solo this runt in about eight minutes but I tied in anyway. A good half-hour later pumped giddy I had matched hands above screw number seven was un-shouldering a tool to go up right when my F2 rode up out of the placement and GEROMINOOOOOOooooo.... I was airborne for a good thirty-footer onto a 13cm screw our Sterling Nano went ballistic and I came to rest a few feet out from the ice utterly unscathed. I scampered back up placed two more screws then lowered off a sling around two twigs (yikes!).

Scout went up next looked solid but flamed out after pulling the crux, even still he drove yet two more screws above where I had fallen then furrowed through the bush (because that's what Scouts do) above to place a sling around a fir tree. Red-Point time. Racking our last remaining screw and draw, with all the clips in place and nice holes from before the climbing still had me gargling, I placed the last screw before the bush for a total of twelve plus the twig runner, just another Grade 5 featuring 35 meters of vertical ice...

Just the same pints were had fists bumped food was eaten I even slept a little...

The following day the Gods drop trouser took aim and shat squarely on Rob's head, no personal insult intended just an immense cosmic defecation on me, my car and my vacation. Still, steaks were grilled and generous pints were guzzled at the Ourayle House Hutch made a fine host plans were made and that's as much detail as need be revealed.

Thursday we set our bleary-eyed sights on Mighty Aphrodite a bolted line I had attempted to on-sight as a demo in 2010 (post-Petzl party, bad idea). After a warm-up lap of fishin' n' yardin' on draws I set off moving like my younger self the bigger the moves the better to get the son-of-a-bitch over. I top out through sunlit ice red-point in hand it has been a long dark autumn with little time to climb, finally I feel like I might belong in the event.

Friday my left arm and shoulder has locked itself in the closet won't come out so Scout sends handily a dandy M7 while I belay so after the obligatory spaghetti dinner there's nothing for it but to go to bed early for Saturday is Competition Day, day of days.

I rise early shower dress don the jersey warm up by sending Scout's route from the day before. I had pulled #4 jersey first out of the bag the evening before so it is my destiny to go late in the day before the full crowd, if this is to be my last performance I wish it only to be well attended. Waiting to rappel into the canyon I learn the route has already been sent, the thing already decided, so there is no pressure, after some kerfuffle over whether Ipods are permitted I get the okay to play my tracks, things are looking up...

I suit up under Sam's supervision then drop into the Canyon where in the stillness and cold I await my turn, then I tie in...

ONE TWO THREE GO!

Super slippery climbing but the hooks are impeccable from the sky above come the strains of Cyaan Stop CANT STOP, CAN'T STOP I AND I...

Wicked dub-step gets me going the crowd starts to groove after all that crappy white-boy drivel they've been subjected to all morning. I'm making clips gyrating my hips women are swooning the Taliban are in full flight when all the sudden some killjoy pipes up:

"Dude! You're out of bounds!"

SO!?!WHATSITTOYA?!

I scan my situation and notice maybe two points on my right plate in contact with some red spray paint, hells bells dog! I move left but then they start harping on about how I have only twenty seconds to get to "the loaf" so I pull for it sink my F2 hear the announcer assert I've made "the loaf" (phew!) but the line judge (killjoy that he is) thinks otherwise they start yanking on the rope telling me I have to come down...

Which I do, whooping it up, I raise an F2 salute the crowd who cheer mightily, its all about the fans, you see...

The belayers have an eye on me, "where YOU going," one inquires edgily. "Just chillin' out a bit", I sniff a little, feign professional devastation, they nod knowingly, poor guy he must be hurting...

Attentions turn to Whit as he heads up the comp' route so with a squeal of glee I scarper off tools in hand downstream lash my coat around my waist thus frothing slightly at the mouth attack the nearest grade 5 ice line I encounter as No Doubt by Turbulence comes howling out of the speakers (they plum left my play-list on!)

There is no doubt
I smoke the herb
to concentrate
all the evil evaporates, yeah...

I got my F2s loaded for bear landing big shots stabbing my Ice Dragons in slaying it all picking my way up through big globs of blue-white ice a 4-legged neon paint splash insouciant being happy just to bang a little longer on the stage that is Ouray Ice Festival. Near the top the ice gets weird I slow a bit when one of the Ice Park employees appears off to my left imploring me to take a rope, ever the sportsman I oblige, top out, turn towards the bridge, that's when I realize that several hundred people have been watching me...

I would like to say I am sorry for stealing the attention due anyone else truthfully but having stolen the show somewhat if even inadvertently I am patently unrepentant. Amid the blur of blue and red paint sweet loafs pinched loafs disqualified contenders pulsating athlete egos I sought and at last found my moment of pure climbing bliss, one man, one errant mustache, one very loud pair of trousers, the omnipresent two inches of chome-moly steel betwixt me and perdition, the unblinking crowd...

The following morning on my way out of town a beautiful hippie girl hucked her arms around my neck gave me a big squeeze told me I had done most awesome.

Who would argue with that?

Postscript: On Sunday 15 January Colorado ice-climbing icon Jack Roberts was attempting to lead the second pitch of Bridalveil Falls when he fell sustaining fatal injuries in the ensuing 60 foot whipper, though I had not spoken to him at the Festival I recall seeing him through the crowd, a fleeting glance before being distracted. I would like to think that my assessment of Bridalveil a little over a week earlier as being in too grim a state for climbing had kept a similar fate from befalling either myself or Scout, the truth is I adhere to a hard and fast rule, never to repeat major ascents I have completed, running the gauntlet once being in my mind perhaps once too many.

Truly though it is a shame to see the older climbers, Guy Lacelle, Charlie Fowler, John Bachar, Craig Luebben and now JR being picked off over the years, a wealth of experience and lore goes with them but perhaps more poignantly having rounded 50 I now find myself in this clade, with each passing I see the queue before oblivion grow shorter.

Time to quit? To what end? Bad luck or just bad conditions? Such thoughts weigh inescapably on my psyche...

"I want more time, fucker..."

-Roy Batty- from Bladerunner.

THE LAST WORD: I don't mean to beat a dead horse here but in retrospect it is apparent that I got higher on the competition route than a number of the other climbers who in fact fell off well before they got to the "sweet-loaf" feature, several guys I know for a fact came off on the thin ice hooks leading to the blue structure whereas I actually stuck the thing before timing out. This is okay as I was in fact OUT OF BOUNDS at one point, the judges warned me about this I thought I had moved my foot off the red-painted ice but if I did so I did not do so soon enough for their liking they are the judges in this matter and that is that.

I have always viewed climbing in competitions as an exceedingly useful tool to improve my climbing performance, going up against top-level climbers from here and abroad is a sure way to elevate one's game. The flip side is I do a good deal of solo climbing (witness my exit from the canyon immediately following my comp' run), I'm older and exceedingly cautious about progression fearful of injury that could permanently alter my climbing career, not to mention I make my living as a large-animal veterinarian and need to be physically sound to work with ornery (and big) critters. I move with confidence but am slow at times, warming up gradually careful to avoid a ground-fall, for me to disconnect from the solo mind-set on command is not always so easy, perhaps not the best attribute for being in a timed competitive event but one that has kept me alive and mostly well through an ice-climbing career that has spanned over thirty years.

But I'm stoked! I climbed pretty well in this event met some cool people and had a really good time with Scout.

Photo: Helen H. Richardson/Denver Post.