There are times when I begin to wonder if Andrew Bisharat was right after all. OK so that link doesn't work. Here's my response to it if you are interested. And maybe I was too harsh on it and got blocked by him, like everywhere. Which I may well have deserved but whatever. Water under the bridge, as they say.
Anyway, maybe climbing blogs are getting old. Having just turned 50 myself, it's logical enough to see a connection between one's one encroaching mortality and a decreasing lack of enthusiasm for writing about the latest trend/event/marketing campaign in the world of climbing. And said lack of enthusiasm has been abundantly manifest in my not updating this blog in close to two months. And something important surely has happened in the world of climbing (besides Everest getting shut down). OK so nothing really important has happened but maybe I just forgot about it. Middle age has its blessings.
But seriously, what has happened in the last two years to climbing blogs is not inspiring much confidence in their future existence as a corrective to what is being published out there in the climbing MSM. I may be oblivious but I have not read a good polemic on the internetz in a long time (except maybe Stevie Haston's) and even Jamie Emerson is apparently off doing something a lot more interesting than updating B3Bouldering these days. In fact in an ironic twist that only Hegel could appreciate. Bisharat's blog is by far the most productive, excepting the ever-industrious Climbing Narc. (OK he's linked on my blog but I might as well be consistent.) AB even gets real comments which makes me extremely jealous as all mine are spambot generated ones like "very inform blog. much informing and links. OK."
For now I will be thinking about what to do next and spending as much time here while I do. That's all for now. And if you actually want to know what I am up to, please follow me on Instagram.
Thursday, June 12, 2014
Saturday, April 26, 2014
The Everest Show and the Post-Mountaineering Era
Anyone following the climbing scene (which is just about everyone these days including NPR and the New York Times) has been following the disastrous inauguration of the 2014 Everest season with the tragic deaths of 16 Sherpas in the Khumbu icefall. This catastrophe, which is one of the single highest death tolls ever in modern mountaineering history, finally has exposed the contradictions inherent in the Everest system in a way that nobody can now ignore. There are conflicting reports that the mountain is "closed" though the financial implications of that for the country as a whole, as well as the Sherpa community are significant. And there are the grieving families of the victims, for whom one's heart goes out to.
But it was all coming to this point, inevitably. The photos last year of the hundreds of climbers on the Western Cwm, the traffic jams on the Hillary Step, the incessant coverage of Everest the annual event and of course the occasional casualty, no more to be noted than a freeway car accident. In my view, there is no question that Everest is a spectacle now, feeding on its own image, becoming a bigger version of itself, if that is even possible. It is not just the tallest mountain on earth, it's the biggest show on earth, a Barnum and Bailey three-ring circus with ringmasters, roustabouts and tents galore.
Isn't there some way to kill off the Everest mystique once and for all? The environmental degradation, the commercialized media events (the first wingsuit flight was to be televised this year), the frozen corpses, and of course the ceaseless tide of updates on weather, conditions, and ascents and behind it all money, money, money. At this point, I can think of no reason why anyone would want to climb Everest under the present set of conditions. It is devoid of all significance, the process being so methodical and choreographed that it resembles more closely the flotillas of gondolas one sees in that classic ersatz sea-level tourism locale, Venice.
It has been fascinating to see the debate about whether it's right to go on climbing this season, that somehow the deaths of sixteen young men crushed by falling ice has this time truly gone too far. But Everest has long been going too far, pushing it in exactly this fashion while watching the trash and bodies pile up. And for what exactly? Because it's there? The Sherpa deaths are forcing us to look harder and closer at that question. If we are climbing for money, why are we climbing at all? If people are dying en masse so that we can claim we climbed something, why even bother?
The question is pressing harder and harder in the world of climbing overall. What is the merit in climbing anything when the drift is constantly toward commercialization and professionalization? When the media clichés fall thicker and faster, it becomes clear that what is happening now is empty ritual, and more than ever, the closer the camera is, the farther away the truth becomes. The reality show of modern climbing has run into real reality and we are alarmed that this could ever have happened. The blogs, the news reports, the press conferences, the articles; all of them try to sidestep the question, "Why are we doing this?"
Sir Edmund Hillary, upon returning to Base Camp, uttered the classic quote, "Well George, we knocked the bastard off." His later line, "It's all bullshit on Everest these days" seems to close perfectly the arc of modern mountaineering from the nineteenth century to the present. All we are doing is shoveling it into ever more ornate piles. Let's stop.
(for an amusing and naive view from 2003, read "The message is this – stop calling Everest a circus, and stop calling it bullshit.")
But it was all coming to this point, inevitably. The photos last year of the hundreds of climbers on the Western Cwm, the traffic jams on the Hillary Step, the incessant coverage of Everest the annual event and of course the occasional casualty, no more to be noted than a freeway car accident. In my view, there is no question that Everest is a spectacle now, feeding on its own image, becoming a bigger version of itself, if that is even possible. It is not just the tallest mountain on earth, it's the biggest show on earth, a Barnum and Bailey three-ring circus with ringmasters, roustabouts and tents galore.
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| Adventure as far as the eye can see. Photo from the Times of London |
Isn't there some way to kill off the Everest mystique once and for all? The environmental degradation, the commercialized media events (the first wingsuit flight was to be televised this year), the frozen corpses, and of course the ceaseless tide of updates on weather, conditions, and ascents and behind it all money, money, money. At this point, I can think of no reason why anyone would want to climb Everest under the present set of conditions. It is devoid of all significance, the process being so methodical and choreographed that it resembles more closely the flotillas of gondolas one sees in that classic ersatz sea-level tourism locale, Venice.
It has been fascinating to see the debate about whether it's right to go on climbing this season, that somehow the deaths of sixteen young men crushed by falling ice has this time truly gone too far. But Everest has long been going too far, pushing it in exactly this fashion while watching the trash and bodies pile up. And for what exactly? Because it's there? The Sherpa deaths are forcing us to look harder and closer at that question. If we are climbing for money, why are we climbing at all? If people are dying en masse so that we can claim we climbed something, why even bother?
The question is pressing harder and harder in the world of climbing overall. What is the merit in climbing anything when the drift is constantly toward commercialization and professionalization? When the media clichés fall thicker and faster, it becomes clear that what is happening now is empty ritual, and more than ever, the closer the camera is, the farther away the truth becomes. The reality show of modern climbing has run into real reality and we are alarmed that this could ever have happened. The blogs, the news reports, the press conferences, the articles; all of them try to sidestep the question, "Why are we doing this?"
Sir Edmund Hillary, upon returning to Base Camp, uttered the classic quote, "Well George, we knocked the bastard off." His later line, "It's all bullshit on Everest these days" seems to close perfectly the arc of modern mountaineering from the nineteenth century to the present. All we are doing is shoveling it into ever more ornate piles. Let's stop.
(for an amusing and naive view from 2003, read "The message is this – stop calling Everest a circus, and stop calling it bullshit.")
Sunday, February 16, 2014
Notes from A GenX Climber
I am not necessarily a fan of defining generational eras, not least because it always seems to boil down to what cool bands you listened to in your 20s. And whining about your fate in the clutches of a less-than-providential historical trajectory seems so, well, negative in the age of social media's Upworthy-esque positivity and uplift. Given the contemporary emphasis on personal brand-building and the "community," it's hard to imagine that there was once a time when many top climbers apparently had an attitude problem best summarized by the 1991 profile of American star Jim Karn titled " The Positive Aspects of Negative Thinking."
I think this stereotype of so-called Generation X has persisted into the present era with remarkable durability. The lycra tights, the wobblers, the dieting, the finicky obsession with technical mastery are all seen as hallmarks of a best forgotten age. Almost without exception the climbers from that era have disappeared from the common knowledge and history of the sport. I think this ought to be changed.
The period of 1985 to 1995 was plagued by dysfunction on a lot of levels but I think its bad reputation is wildly overstated. Among other things this period marked the last time that Americans male or female were serious contenders on the world competition stage. It was also one of the most creative periods in American climbing as the focus shifted from the well-known areas of the 60s and 70s such as Yosemite and Eldorado Canyon to radically different locales such as Smith Rock, American Fork, and Rifle. That era is almost 30 years old yet I don't sense a lot of enthusiasm for remembering it. No photocopied articles or extended reminiscences on Supertopo or coffee-table books sold through Patagonia books. At least so far.
I think it is increasingly an article of belief that modern sport climbing and bouldering suddenly emerged fully formed in the person of Chris Sharma, a genial and phenomenally talented wunderkind who appeared to refute the intensity and obsessive approach of earlier leaders in the sport. Well maybe. But what is forgotten is the degree to which the leaders of new trends in climbing in the 80s were quite literally attacked by the old guard. Comments by the likes of John Bachar or Henry Barber that hard sport climbing was the equivalent of golf or that the likes of Fred Nicole were merely number-chasing Euros were matched by the destructive and hypocritical bolting wars (of which I was part of). In other words, there was next to no genuine support or positive recognition from the older guard that the world of climbing was changing. Karn lived in Europe in a cheap tent on terrible food while competing in the World Cup. Meaningful sponsorship was unheard of. Too many top-level climbers from the mid-80s to the mid-90s were considered the bastard stepchildren of the sport. We even had the famous "You Suck!" article by Dave Pegg in 1996. There was a reason we sucked and it wasn't just about anorexia and bad attitudes. Who really wanted us to get as good as the Europeans? Answer: not too many people, especially of the previous generation.
This changed with the arrival of the cute and youthful stars who emerged in the mid 1990s such as Sharma, Tommy Caldwell, Beth Rodden and Tori Allen. Often with substantial parental support or at least approval, they swiftly eclipsed their predecessors, breezing past the obstacles once posed by the old guard of the past. Climbing became a youth sport, not the pursuit of grumpy old men obsessed with ethical purity. Suddenly nobody cared about bolting on rappel. "Number-chasing" was seen as a media-savvy move for climber and manufacturer. Selling-out became a mark of authenticity and commitment to the sport, not a cause for ostracism.
For climbers who came of age in the GenX era, there is a certain satisfaction in seeing the old verities and personalities that dismissed their dreams now fading from view, or at least issued restraining orders, as in the case of Ken Nichols. Sport and gym climbing, and of course competitions are now the standard, not the exception. Bouldering is not just "for practice" anymore. Climbers from the US are still mostly irrelevant in the international scene, with only a few exceptions. And oddly, outside a very very elite crew, the standards set by the climbers of 20 years ago have proven quite hard to get past.
The standard take on Generation X is that they were the most neglected children in American history, overshadowed by the sheer numbers and cultural momentum of the Baby Boomer and superceded by the successive generations,Generation Y and the Millenials. I think this has been echoed in the climbing world to a large extent and those of us who emerged as young adults in the later 1980s are more or less resigned to it. Perhaps, however, a few more people will begin to look around and recognize the degree to which the shape of the sport of climbing is defined by the ideas and ultimately the attitudes of a now obscure group of climbers.
I think this stereotype of so-called Generation X has persisted into the present era with remarkable durability. The lycra tights, the wobblers, the dieting, the finicky obsession with technical mastery are all seen as hallmarks of a best forgotten age. Almost without exception the climbers from that era have disappeared from the common knowledge and history of the sport. I think this ought to be changed.
The period of 1985 to 1995 was plagued by dysfunction on a lot of levels but I think its bad reputation is wildly overstated. Among other things this period marked the last time that Americans male or female were serious contenders on the world competition stage. It was also one of the most creative periods in American climbing as the focus shifted from the well-known areas of the 60s and 70s such as Yosemite and Eldorado Canyon to radically different locales such as Smith Rock, American Fork, and Rifle. That era is almost 30 years old yet I don't sense a lot of enthusiasm for remembering it. No photocopied articles or extended reminiscences on Supertopo or coffee-table books sold through Patagonia books. At least so far.
I think it is increasingly an article of belief that modern sport climbing and bouldering suddenly emerged fully formed in the person of Chris Sharma, a genial and phenomenally talented wunderkind who appeared to refute the intensity and obsessive approach of earlier leaders in the sport. Well maybe. But what is forgotten is the degree to which the leaders of new trends in climbing in the 80s were quite literally attacked by the old guard. Comments by the likes of John Bachar or Henry Barber that hard sport climbing was the equivalent of golf or that the likes of Fred Nicole were merely number-chasing Euros were matched by the destructive and hypocritical bolting wars (of which I was part of). In other words, there was next to no genuine support or positive recognition from the older guard that the world of climbing was changing. Karn lived in Europe in a cheap tent on terrible food while competing in the World Cup. Meaningful sponsorship was unheard of. Too many top-level climbers from the mid-80s to the mid-90s were considered the bastard stepchildren of the sport. We even had the famous "You Suck!" article by Dave Pegg in 1996. There was a reason we sucked and it wasn't just about anorexia and bad attitudes. Who really wanted us to get as good as the Europeans? Answer: not too many people, especially of the previous generation.
This changed with the arrival of the cute and youthful stars who emerged in the mid 1990s such as Sharma, Tommy Caldwell, Beth Rodden and Tori Allen. Often with substantial parental support or at least approval, they swiftly eclipsed their predecessors, breezing past the obstacles once posed by the old guard of the past. Climbing became a youth sport, not the pursuit of grumpy old men obsessed with ethical purity. Suddenly nobody cared about bolting on rappel. "Number-chasing" was seen as a media-savvy move for climber and manufacturer. Selling-out became a mark of authenticity and commitment to the sport, not a cause for ostracism.
For climbers who came of age in the GenX era, there is a certain satisfaction in seeing the old verities and personalities that dismissed their dreams now fading from view, or at least issued restraining orders, as in the case of Ken Nichols. Sport and gym climbing, and of course competitions are now the standard, not the exception. Bouldering is not just "for practice" anymore. Climbers from the US are still mostly irrelevant in the international scene, with only a few exceptions. And oddly, outside a very very elite crew, the standards set by the climbers of 20 years ago have proven quite hard to get past.
The standard take on Generation X is that they were the most neglected children in American history, overshadowed by the sheer numbers and cultural momentum of the Baby Boomer and superceded by the successive generations,Generation Y and the Millenials. I think this has been echoed in the climbing world to a large extent and those of us who emerged as young adults in the later 1980s are more or less resigned to it. Perhaps, however, a few more people will begin to look around and recognize the degree to which the shape of the sport of climbing is defined by the ideas and ultimately the attitudes of a now obscure group of climbers.
Sunday, January 26, 2014
Review of The Circuit: World Cup and Performance Climbing
Recently I had heard via Facebook of a new climbing media project called The Circuit, a magazine dedicated to the World Cup and the climbers who compete in it. I was interested in this for several reasons, not least because it was actually being published in hard copy form at a time when climbing media (and sports media in general) has been focusing on its online aspects. Also, as Eddie Fowke points out below, English-language readers do not get much in terms of stories and interviews about this kind of climbing in general.
Eddie Fowke, the publisher and editor of The Circuit, kindly sent me a copy for review and I have to say right away that this is one of the most interesting and entertaining magazines I have seen in a long time. Long interviews with leading competitors and other figures such as longtime routesetter Jacky Godoffe and coaching and climbing analysis wizard Udo Neumann provide the best insight into contemporary competition climbing you are likely to find between two covers. Some of the climbers interviewed include Shauna Coxsey, Mina Markowic, Alexander Megos, and Chris Webb-Parsons.The magazine is loaded with high-quality photographs from around the world printed on very high quality stock. This issue focuses on bouldering both inside and outside but future issues will have other themes.
The first issue has virtually no advertising, though I would expect this to change going forward, meaning an uninterrupted reading and viewing experience more similar to a book. In fact it reminded me of two books from the 90s, Rock Stars by Heinz Zak and The Power of Climbing from David Jones, both of which opened a window onto the state of the art at the time. Also 8a.nu published a yearbook for a few years which I thought was worthwhile for the record it preserved for the world sport climbing and bouldering scene.
If you want to get a better picture of how the competitors approach the challenge of climbing in World Cup comps or what the routesetters are trying to do, The Circuit is an invaluable documentary effort in that direction. If the climbing world wants competition climbing to be taken seriously, as in being part of the Olympics, it will need publications like this to help make the case.
I think this is a great project to support so to purchase a copy just go to http://www.thecircuitclimbing.com/Buy for more info.
Make sure to check out the Facebook page and blog as well.
In order to get a better idea of what Eddie is trying to achieve with this project, I did a short email interview with him.
Eddie Fowke, the publisher and editor of The Circuit, kindly sent me a copy for review and I have to say right away that this is one of the most interesting and entertaining magazines I have seen in a long time. Long interviews with leading competitors and other figures such as longtime routesetter Jacky Godoffe and coaching and climbing analysis wizard Udo Neumann provide the best insight into contemporary competition climbing you are likely to find between two covers. Some of the climbers interviewed include Shauna Coxsey, Mina Markowic, Alexander Megos, and Chris Webb-Parsons.The magazine is loaded with high-quality photographs from around the world printed on very high quality stock. This issue focuses on bouldering both inside and outside but future issues will have other themes.
The first issue has virtually no advertising, though I would expect this to change going forward, meaning an uninterrupted reading and viewing experience more similar to a book. In fact it reminded me of two books from the 90s, Rock Stars by Heinz Zak and The Power of Climbing from David Jones, both of which opened a window onto the state of the art at the time. Also 8a.nu published a yearbook for a few years which I thought was worthwhile for the record it preserved for the world sport climbing and bouldering scene.
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| Anna Stohr at Milau FR |
I think this is a great project to support so to purchase a copy just go to http://www.thecircuitclimbing.com/Buy for more info.
Make sure to check out the Facebook page and blog as well.
In order to get a better idea of what Eddie is trying to achieve with this project, I did a short email interview with him.
1.
When and how did you get the idea that
international competition climbing needed a magazine like this?
I’ve always loved climbing magazines and in the early 90’s
it was the only way to follow the competition circuit. Sadly even with growing
participation and following worldwide there never seemed to be much content in
the existing English Language magazines. It’d always be a paragraph or two at
best.
If you look at any other sport or activities they have
specialist publications that act as aspirational and educational platforms,
climbing magazines (again I only speak of English language ones) had never had this
niche filled.
I felt it was time to fill that niche and get some psyche
out there!
2.
How did you actually get the process started and
what did you need to learn along the way?
I’ve been taking photos of some of the top climbers,
boulderers especially, for several years now. After my friend James Kassay did
some of the IFSC Bouldering World Cups in 2012 and it watched the streams of
all of them I decided to attend some of the World Cups myself in 2013.
For the World Cups I was shooting and writing competition
reviews for the Australian digital magazine Vertical Life which gave me the
opportunity to get really involved and the more people I shared my vision of a
high performance climbing magazine with the more engagement and psyche I got
back. It just gained momentum from there.
I had to learn every aspect of assembling a magazine from
scratch, I was a competent photographer so that I was comfortable with but I
had to learn to interview and how to transcribe the interviews. Some interviews
I left very natural as I felt by anglicizing the answers it would take out some
of the subject’s personality and personal flavor. For instance Mina Markovic is
one of the most passionate climbers I’ve ever met, to her English is not a first
language but when I tried to paraphrase her answers I would lose some of her
passion, her absolute love for the sport. It was very much the same for Jacky
Godoffe who spoke with such flair and belief, an open integrity that it
wouldn’t have done him justice to water that down.
The hardest two aspects for me so far have been layout and
logistics. I had only very limited experience with indesign from about 7 years
ago so I had to learn that basically from scratch. I put so many hours into
watching tutorials and reading about how to put together a magazine, then I
just flogged myself, putting in hour after hour laying up pages… Discarding
them… Repeating… It was hard, soul crushing work at times.
Lastly the logistics of freight has been an intense learning
curve. To make a self-published print magazine work I needed to keep the costs
as low as possible and mailing to purchasers directly from Australia was going
to be a nightmare so I ended up having to find a workable freight solution. Not
easy!
3.
How did you finance the project? I noticed that
there is virtually no advertising.
The single biggest expense for The Circuit has been the time
I’ve put in. Compared to most startup businesses, the actual financial
commitment has been kept in check by doing the vast bulk of the work myself.
Sure traveling to the World Cups last year was expensive but I was going for
me, it was also a holiday so I don’t really consider an expense.
Now though, the simple truth is I need to sell plenty of
copies to fund this year’s trip where I intend on getting the raw material for
the next couple of issues.
I ran issue 1 almost devoid of advertising for two reasons.
Firstly I was just so busy that I didn’t get the time to write up proposals for
prospective advertisers and secondly I didn’t want to undervalue the
advertising space I had available by giving cheap adverts as The Circuit was an
untested product. As an aspirational magazine I only want quality advertising
and the companies I want to advertise need to be supporting the sport in a
positive way.
I know the current magazines operate on a very advertising
dependent business model but I think a lot of magazines are just drenched in
advertising so I’ve made a conscious decision to limit the advertising space
available to let the content shine through.
I only had a single advertising spot in Issue 1 and that was
given as a free ad to CAC (Climbers against Cancer). I strongly believe in
their cause having spent time with John Ellison in Europe last year and seeing
my own father lose his battle with cancer while I was writing the magazine. I
don’t have a lot to give back but if The Circuit can raise awareness and give a
few thousand dollars to CAC to help in the fight against cancer then it’s a
start.
4.
Is the magazine going to be annual, bi-annual,
or more frequent?
Initially we will be an annual publication but long term the
goal is to go bi-annual. With the content we have being based around the
athletes and legends of the sport two issues a year should be easily
manageable. I would rather have a content heavy, quality magazine that is
collectable than dilute the content over a number of issues and chase the more
news based market of existing magazines. Although magazines have a definite
place reporting news, for the most part they can’t compete with the internet.
Paul Robinson’s thoughts on reporting news such as a hard first ascent are in the
closing interview of issue 1. I agree with what he’s saying and think magazines
become the archives for the exceptional, not the 8c’s in a hole as he so
succinctly describes them.
“I think that climbing news these days is very immediate.
It’s like if somebody does something it gets reported on and it’s old news in
24 hours. Whether it’s 8c, 8b flash, whatever it may be. So in that regard I
think yes, however I think that really important news like mega first ascents,
lots of though needs to go into the news. Grading it, creating it, the climbing
media gets such a small amount of the story and for me, when I do a really hard
first ascent, a really meaningful first ascent I like to try and bring as much
of that story to the forefront of the media as possible. It’s not just “Oh Paul
did another 8c first ascent” you know I mean that’s happened in the past and
whatever but…
If I do an 8c first ascent and it’s in a hole you know
I’ll shoot some pictures, I’ll put them up on Facebook, ok cool, I’m psyched.
But if I do an 8c or 8b+ first ascent that means the world to me, I want (and
not because I want popularity and fame or whatever) I want people to know because
I’m just so proud of the line. I don’t want it to be just another of these
little news stories on 8a.nu like “Paul’s done an 8c, here’s what he said.”
That’s like, ok, that doesn’t mean anything. That’s why I’m always trying to
capture photo, to capture video of these lines that I put up because you get
just such a small percentage of what really went down and what went into these
lines. That’s what I hope people get from my Instagram and my blog and the
photos I post on the internet. It’s not that I’m climbing just to do hard
grades, I’m climbing because I want to produce, and make the sport a better
sport. To make the sport more worldly in all essences.” (Eds. note, read the rest of Paul's interview in The Circuit)
5.
What kind of readership are you aiming at, what
do you want the magazine to provide for its readers?
The Circuit is a platform to capture the history of high
performance professional climbers. Through interviews and feature articles I
want to get into the heads of these amazing athletes, to learn their stories
and share them with climbing lovers worldwide.
I see The Circuit being aimed at two main groups in the
climbing community. One group is the aspiring elite who want to augment their
vision of the sport with the wisdom of their heroes. The juniors, the local
elite who want motivation to put in that extra hour of training in their goal
of one day being an elite climber. The other group is normal climbers, lovers
of the sport like me who just want to know what makes this incredible sport
tick. The people who get up all over the world and watch the IFSC World Cup
streams at stupid times of the day just because they love the sport.
6.
In an age where print publishing is apparently
on the decline, why did you opt for a glossy high-quality print magazine?
I believe that a printed magazine can have collectible
value. A digital file doesn't have that. If a magazine like The Circuit can
capture a time and place in the history of climbing it can be placed on a shelf
and referenced later. With a digital file odds are it’ll end up on some hard
drive that’ll eventually fail, some tablet that’ll get superseded.
One of my main inspirations for The Circuit was Rock Stars
by Heinz Zak. Even though it came out in 1997 it is still a fascinating view of
climbing in the 90’s, the birth of professionalism. If through a periodical
format The Circuit can achieve the same in the 21st century than it
will be mission accomplished. To do that I believe print is the best medium.
7. What directions do you want to see the magazine
take in the future?
Building on the first issue I’d love future issues to be
more collaborative efforts. I was lucky enough to have a great multilingual
European correspondent in Nat Berry help me with issue 1 as well as the
talented Dutch photographer Bram Berkien and Dave Mason from the UK
supplementing my own photography. For the future I would like more interviewers
and photographers on board to bring different perspectives and to let me have
some degree of a normal life again!
Ideally I’d like The Circuit to be available at the IFSC
World Cups where fans could buy copies and get them autographed by the pro’s.
Like how you’d buy a program at a major sporting event now.
Lastly I want to theme the issues. Issue 1 had a working
title of Origins and looked at where the included climbers came from. For the
coming issues I want to look at climbers who are doing it all on their own for
the love of it. The trail blazers of their countries on the international
stage. That and the growth of the sport
in the east. From the time of Yuji Hirayama coming to France to pursue his
dreams through till today where the Asian climbers are among the best in the
world.
Thanks Eddie and good luck with this magazine!
Saturday, January 11, 2014
Bouldering with Ueli Steck and a New Years Resolution
Sometimes just the right thing comes along when you least expect it. I headed off to The Spot last week in a mood of resignation, a stoic apathy induced by icy roads, cold temperatures and the usual mid-winter stagnation. I warmed up in a non-committal fashion, pumping out on the large semi-greasy holds that this gym favors and which bedevil my dreams of making real training gains. This was going nowhere, I thought to myself, as I scoped out the more vulnerable looking 4-spots, looking for an easy kill or two before reality set in.
Across the room I saw a group of climbers, some of whom I knew, so I went over to say hi. One of them I had not met before but he looked strangely familiar from somewhere. The context of the gym wasn't helping, for good reason, as it turned out. I worked in with the group on a problem that had a hard move at the top, one that I attempted and fell from trying to set a high heelhook to reach the top. The unknown climber said, in a European accent, "That's how to do it" and sent the next try. Then it clicked; I had just given beta to Ueli Steck, recent soloist of the South Face of Annapurna and achiever of too many crazy things to list here. In the confines of The Spot, a normal looking guy in climbing shoes looks very different from someone running up the North Face of the Eiger in under 3 hours.
I try not to be too overawed by world-class climbers. You meet a lot of them in Boulder and the average OR show has enough to stage a production of A Chorus Line. What they can do is amazing to me. As it happens, most of them are very nice people as well. For me however Ueli Steck is really a breed apart. And frankly, trying to make the leap from the guy I was trying the purple 5 minus with and the guy who charged up and down Annapurna in just over 24 hours was no easy feat. (Neither of us sent BTW)
We chatted about various things, climbing training, balancing family and climbing time, future plans, pretty normal stuff. And really, besides the sheer insanity of his climbing résumé, he struck me as perhaps the most normal climber I have met in a very long time. Which in its own way was the most inspiring aspect of this meeting; that there might actually be less separation between the great and the rest of us than you might think and that this encounter is much more possible in the climbing world than pretty much anywhere else that I can think of.
I left the gym pondering how I could make the best use of this meeting (besides a quick blog post) for the future. I don't really believe in New Year's resolutions but a good one for this year might be to keep your eyes open for your inspiration and your mind in a state of open-ended expectation. That inspiration may come from out of nowhere, in the least expected fashion. It may be meeting a climbing idol or it may be someone trying their hardest on a three spot. And also train harder. A lot harder. I took a rest day the day after. For his part, Ueli onsighted Octopussy, a classic Jeff Lowe M8 in Vail before heading to Ouray.
This interview and others in the same series gives a good view of Annapurna and Ueli's mindset. Epic TV hasn't organized these well but it's worth searching around for all of them. Also his account of the Annapurna in the latest issue of Alpinist (#45) is well worth the read, an instant classic really.
Across the room I saw a group of climbers, some of whom I knew, so I went over to say hi. One of them I had not met before but he looked strangely familiar from somewhere. The context of the gym wasn't helping, for good reason, as it turned out. I worked in with the group on a problem that had a hard move at the top, one that I attempted and fell from trying to set a high heelhook to reach the top. The unknown climber said, in a European accent, "That's how to do it" and sent the next try. Then it clicked; I had just given beta to Ueli Steck, recent soloist of the South Face of Annapurna and achiever of too many crazy things to list here. In the confines of The Spot, a normal looking guy in climbing shoes looks very different from someone running up the North Face of the Eiger in under 3 hours.
| Ueli Steck taking a break between burns at The Spot |
I try not to be too overawed by world-class climbers. You meet a lot of them in Boulder and the average OR show has enough to stage a production of A Chorus Line. What they can do is amazing to me. As it happens, most of them are very nice people as well. For me however Ueli Steck is really a breed apart. And frankly, trying to make the leap from the guy I was trying the purple 5 minus with and the guy who charged up and down Annapurna in just over 24 hours was no easy feat. (Neither of us sent BTW)
We chatted about various things, climbing training, balancing family and climbing time, future plans, pretty normal stuff. And really, besides the sheer insanity of his climbing résumé, he struck me as perhaps the most normal climber I have met in a very long time. Which in its own way was the most inspiring aspect of this meeting; that there might actually be less separation between the great and the rest of us than you might think and that this encounter is much more possible in the climbing world than pretty much anywhere else that I can think of.
I left the gym pondering how I could make the best use of this meeting (besides a quick blog post) for the future. I don't really believe in New Year's resolutions but a good one for this year might be to keep your eyes open for your inspiration and your mind in a state of open-ended expectation. That inspiration may come from out of nowhere, in the least expected fashion. It may be meeting a climbing idol or it may be someone trying their hardest on a three spot. And also train harder. A lot harder. I took a rest day the day after. For his part, Ueli onsighted Octopussy, a classic Jeff Lowe M8 in Vail before heading to Ouray.
This interview and others in the same series gives a good view of Annapurna and Ueli's mindset. Epic TV hasn't organized these well but it's worth searching around for all of them. Also his account of the Annapurna in the latest issue of Alpinist (#45) is well worth the read, an instant classic really.
Sunday, December 29, 2013
Las Vegas Excursion
A little over a week ago, I got up before dawn, ate a quick breakfast, packed up and left the keys to my hotel room and hit the road, heading northeast back to Colorado from Las Vegas Nevada. Watching the first rays of the morning sun hit the dry peaks west of the highway near Mesquite, I knew I had a long way yet to go and plenty of time to think about the past week's adventures.
It was decided that I should head somewhere out of town solo the week before Christmas, an opportunity that I was eager to take, having not gone on a dedicated climbing trip in several years. And even if it would be only a few days, the chance to see some new boulders, meet some people, and maybe get some projects for a future visit was irresistible.
I piled a bunch of pads in my car and headed over the mountains in perfect weather. The sun was beginning to lower by the time I went through the San Rafael Swell where you really see the Utah desert landscape along I-70 and as had been the case since I passed Idaho Springs, snow was everywhere. I had had warnings that this might affect the climbing in Saint George but it was surprising to see so much snow that far south.
A quiet night in a budget motel in Saint George was a nice surprise and I took my time getting started as daylight revealed the city was surrounded by snow anywhere there was shade. I wanted to check out Moe's Valley but realized that my car would not handle the ice, snow and mud on the drive in. I realized though that it was just a mile or so, hardly a bad walk in so I hiked in on the road. This was the view from the Sentinel Boulder.
Undaunted, I started on the easier warmups in the vicinity, getting used to the soft and somewhat sandy rock. Though the landings were for the most part flat, some of the boulders were tall enough to merit care, especially on the topouts. After doing the Sentinel V2 (the groove on the left in the photo above) I did the classic Huntsman Graffiti V5, a series of long moves on small crimps on a leaning wall. This is a problem as good as any I have done in the grade and well worth the effort to visit if you are passing through.
After chatting with a couple that showed up shortly after (the only people I saw that day) I headed deeper into the valley proper. Again, plenty of snow covered the tops of virtually all the boulders, including most of the classics such as Gription V9 and a problem I really wanted to do, Dead Rabbit, a crimpy V10. Dead Rabbit had 4 inches of snow at the top but the actual problem was dry. The hard climbing ends at a huge jug below the lip so I figured I would call it good if I got there. A big if as it turned out. While I got all the moves quickly, one in particularly proved desperate on the go and after a number of attempts, I was forced to move on. This problem has some of the best rock in the area, more like Joe's than the typical Moe's quality.
After this I went over to look for the Lindner Roof V9 which as it turned out was running with water and broken, which should up the grade a bit. In the vicinity, I did a problem called Shoulder Popper V8 which was clearly easier and a very classic crimpy arete named Hermione, a stout V3 or 4. I needed to leave to get to Vegas so I walked back out towards town feeling pretty tired. Moe's is definitely worth a stop though I wouldn't recommend it when covered with snow!
I ran into Seth Robinson, Vegas local and guidebook author, who gave me a tour of Gateway Canyon, the area just northeast of the Kraft Boulders. This is one of a number of places where the latest development has taken place. In fact while I was there, a crew including Jimmy Webb, Nalle Hukketaival and Daniel Woods was taking down new problems left and right. I think it's safe to say that the guidebooks will need new editions soon.
At the end of the day we ran into Courtney Woods who wanted to try Lethal Design, a power-endurance V12 near the mouth of the canyon. I was able to take some good photos and also some notes for a possible session the next day.
This problem is more like a short route and comes complete with a somewhat sketchy topout over large, wobbly, jagged boulders. This landing could use some constructive reworking, no doubt, as it is unnecessarily unsafe.The climbing is intensely crimpy with lots of options for fingers and feet but no real respite until the last good edge before the slab. Armed with ideas and beta, I planned on coming back the next afternoon.
It was decided that I should head somewhere out of town solo the week before Christmas, an opportunity that I was eager to take, having not gone on a dedicated climbing trip in several years. And even if it would be only a few days, the chance to see some new boulders, meet some people, and maybe get some projects for a future visit was irresistible.
I piled a bunch of pads in my car and headed over the mountains in perfect weather. The sun was beginning to lower by the time I went through the San Rafael Swell where you really see the Utah desert landscape along I-70 and as had been the case since I passed Idaho Springs, snow was everywhere. I had had warnings that this might affect the climbing in Saint George but it was surprising to see so much snow that far south.
A quiet night in a budget motel in Saint George was a nice surprise and I took my time getting started as daylight revealed the city was surrounded by snow anywhere there was shade. I wanted to check out Moe's Valley but realized that my car would not handle the ice, snow and mud on the drive in. I realized though that it was just a mile or so, hardly a bad walk in so I hiked in on the road. This was the view from the Sentinel Boulder.
| Snowy conditions in Moe's Valley |
| Huntsman Graffiti V5 |
After chatting with a couple that showed up shortly after (the only people I saw that day) I headed deeper into the valley proper. Again, plenty of snow covered the tops of virtually all the boulders, including most of the classics such as Gription V9 and a problem I really wanted to do, Dead Rabbit, a crimpy V10. Dead Rabbit had 4 inches of snow at the top but the actual problem was dry. The hard climbing ends at a huge jug below the lip so I figured I would call it good if I got there. A big if as it turned out. While I got all the moves quickly, one in particularly proved desperate on the go and after a number of attempts, I was forced to move on. This problem has some of the best rock in the area, more like Joe's than the typical Moe's quality.
| The crux on Dead Rabbit V10 |
| Moe's Valley has a lot of boulders! |
During a slow crawl through the VRG due to a truck accident, I recalled days spent working routes here such as the bouldery Hell Comes to Frogtown and the Route of All Evil. The VRG is blessed with amazing rock yet cursed with a grim location right off I-15. However there is probably no better place in North America for hard sport climbing in the cold seasons of fall and winter than Saint George and environs with numerous 5.13 and 5.14 routes, most of which are not too hard to access.
Two hours later I was in Las Vegas and checking in at the Suncoast Hotel Casino. Well removed from the Strip and 15 minutes from the Kraft Boulders trailhead, this casino is perfectly located for climbers. Throw in the fact that the climbing gym and Whole Foods are five minutes drive away, along with REI and the local climbing store and it's almost like you never left Boulder. The Suncoast is not crazy cheap (Hooters was on Expedia at 14 dollars a night) but I had a big but comfortable quiet room with a short hassle-free drive, perfect for mid-winter long nights.
| Suncoast Casino |
Wednesday I was still incredibly tired from Tuesday's explorations but I went out to check out the Kraft Boulders, one of the most well known and historically important bouldering areas near Las Vegas. A few tries on Slice'n'Dice V9 went nowhere and I eventually wandered over towards The Pearl, the celebrated classic from decades ago. Facing due south and polished by thousands of ascent, this problem is not a give-away. It certainly looks much better than it climbs with a tweaky shallow pocket and greasy feet.
| The Pearl V4/5 Two moves of actual climbing but hard |
Speaking of guidebooks, there are two available: one from Wolverine that is a select guide and the Tom Moulin "bible" which is a massive compendium of all the bouldering in the entire region. I bought the latter but found that the binding fell apart very quickly (while reading it in the hotel!) and returned it. I will be waiting for the next edition on that one. For a quick visit, the Wolverine one will work but is also very much out of date out at this point on the newer problems.
One of the best parts of the hike was seeing the remarkable and unique shapes and designs on the walls of the canyon
One of the best parts of the hike was seeing the remarkable and unique shapes and designs on the walls of the canyon
At the end of the day we ran into Courtney Woods who wanted to try Lethal Design, a power-endurance V12 near the mouth of the canyon. I was able to take some good photos and also some notes for a possible session the next day.
| Courtney Woods working on Lethal Design |
I felt better the next day and warmed up on the Potato Chip boulder which was much more fun than The Pearl and comes highly recommended.
After this, I met up with Courtney and Daniel Woods to head over to Gateway. Daniel wanted to do a problem called Burnt, a low V12 start to a V7 in the Kraft boulders. Unfortunately he had forgotten one of his climbing shoes somewhere and was forced to try it with a Sanuk on his right foot. Fortunately the problem is left-foot intensive. However building sun made it imperative to move on.
We headed over to Gateway and set up the pads for Lethal Design. The first third is sustained to several cruxy moves along a diagonal seam. Then a good hold allows a long reach to a spiky undercling, another good sidepull for the left hand and a final couple of hard moves to a good edge as the angle kicks back.
Working this problem means being careful about skin as too many tries on the same spiky crimp can puncture your fingers quickly. Fortunately the moves are not super hard. The problem's difficulty lies primarily in its continuity and complexity. Satisfied I had worked everything as well as I was going to that day, I headed out with Courtney and Daniel back to the Kraft Boulders hoping to get a good try or two on the Monkey Bar Direct, a steep and reachy V8 right on the trail.
Sadly drained of skin and power, I had to put this problem on the return list. Walking out under spitting rain, I ran into Daniel and Courtney again. Not surprisingly Daniel sent Burnt in one shoe!
Is Vegas worth the trip? Absolutely. It is definitely not the caliber of Hueco Tanks but there are many very worthy problems of all grades and this combined with a wide array of other climbing options and most importantly minimal bureaucratic hassles, make Vegas a prime winter destination regardless of your climbing style or preferred terrain. I only know that I left wishing I had three weeks instead of three days.
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