Category Archives: Mentors

Saturday Night Live

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People have a tendency to make very matter-of-fact statements about things that aren’t entirely true. It’s easy to act like an expert, making “true” statements”, in front of a crowd and much harder to admit in front of that same crowd when you don’t know something. My partner has helped me with this. She’s more inclined to respect me for saying “I think it might be this, but I’m really not certain” than for bullsh*tting her and acting like I know what I’m talking about.

We can’t all be experts at everything. That’s fine. Actually, it’s better than fine. I’d rather be an expert in one or two things than dabble in lots of things. Dabbling in climbing is tough. Climbing in any shape or form is serious business. You could die climbing.

Being a safe climber is all about making good decisions. If you’re going to make good decisions you need to have a base of experiences that help influence you to make those good decisions. Experience doesn’t magically appear overnight. You gain it by doing, from other’s teachings (hopefully they’re knowledgable and honest about their own base of experience), by reading, and by applying the things you’ve read and been shown.

The first step in this process is admitting that there are things you don’t know and aren’t good at yet. Then, through learning and practice it’s usually possible to get reasonably good at most things. As climbers we need to be reasonably good at doing things that keep us safe.

This season in the Gunks there’s been one really staggering accident that resulted in a sad and unnecessary fatality and a slew of others that have resulted in severe head or body trauma. If you listen from the cliff it’s possible to hear sirens coming up the hill and around the hairpin turn nearly every weekend. Many of those sirens stop at the carriage road below the cliffs.

There will always be objective hazards while climbing. In the mountains objective hazards can pose a real threat to one’s wellbeing. At a cliff like the Trapps we see very few objective hazards and many subjective risks. People unknowingly expose themselves to unnecessary subjective risks and cause entirely preventable accidents.

Rock climbing is changing. I’ve been watching it happen. At times, as a guide I feel I’ve even contributed to those changes. As a “sport” rock climbing has blossomed in popularity. People no longer travel in pairs, as partners, to a crag to climb for the day. They travel in throngs, coming straight from climbing gyms to the outdoors. They no longer mentor with one individual for several seasons, learning the many subtleties of a dangerous yet rewarding craft like climbing.They storm the crags, new gear and group in tow and recreate the gym outside. The measured approach, where one goes slowly and carefully applies their skills, is rapidly disappearing.

The trouble is, one person from a gym who “knows” how to lead or build anchors can expose an entire group of new climbers to the sport. All the while, that person in the “know” and the rest of these green climbers never realize they’re climbing on bogus anchor setups that aren’t ideal.

My friend and fellow climbing guide, Joe Vitti, has been thinking a lot about the climbing accidents that have occurred in the Gunks over the past several seasons. The recent anchor failure and subsequent fatality, which seems to have been preventable, has shaken him. It should bother all of us.

After looking at the accidents he’s determined (I agree with his determination) that accidents are not occurring as a result of total beginner climbers being complete idiots. They’re occurring among intermediate/experienced climbers who are capable of climbing and manage to navigate the cliffs, but are incapable of seeing the bigger, very dangerous picture in which they operate.

Rappelling or lowering off the end of the rope is easily preventable. It’s possible to make simple and redundant anchors, ones that won’t fail, aren’t confusing and can easily be determined to be safe. Leaders can be better at self-assessing what climbs they should decide to lead, thus preventing upside down, skull fracturing falls. It’s possible to place gear that doesn’t zipper out below when you take a lead fall.

These accidents scare the crap out of me. However, I’m not an optimist. I’m a pragmatist and my sensibility tells me that this isn’t the end of more accidents – it’s the beginning. As climbing gyms become more popular and more people want to try outdoor climbing the “experience” denominator decreases. There’s more people out there that know less, and I’m not sure they realize that one small mistake is all it takes to get seriously injured or killed.

The first step to preventing these accidents is letting go of our egos. We need to admit what we know and what we don’t know. If I screw up my marinara recipe it’s not a big deal. If I screw up my climbing anchor someone could die. If you don’t really feel like you know what you’re doing, ask for help. Nobody will criticize you for that. As a guide and instructor I applaud people for that. Many other guides do too.

Starting this season some of the local Gunks guides are going to be offering free, informal clinics on Saturday nights. These clinics are geared towards climbers who want to improve their anchoring, belaying and ropework skills. Joe Vitti is working out the fine details still. As details and a schedule become available I’ll post them on this site. Joe will do the same on rockclimbing.com and gunks.com.

In the meantime, be nice, but say something if you feel like the anchor or belay setup you see someone using looks whacky. It doesn’t have to be an insult and it could be phrased as more of a question. Find out why they’re doing what they’re doing and help them get on the right track.

Here’s the link to the flyer that will be posted around the Gunks -Free clinic-1. Spread the word.

Purgatory

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When I began climbing in the Catskills, during the winter of 2004(?), the first “hard” line I sought to climb was Purgatory(WI5-, M5) in the Devil’s Kitchen. It’s a beautiful thin ice line following corners and cracks for 90 feet at the right end of the cliff.

At that time Purgatory had bolts running bottom to top. The fifth bolt was awkward to reach and dangerous to clip; this was the crux of the climb. I have lead this route many times since then, remarking every time that Purgatory is “one of the best pitches in the Northeast”. The Northeast has some of the best ice climbing in North America so you know I think Purgatory would make a North America’s best list too. I’m partial to the Catskills though, so that’s neither here nor there.

After I climbed Purgatory for the first time I learned that Joe Szot had boldly claimed the first ascent of the route, using traditional gear, many years before I began climbing in the Catskills. At the time of the first ascent, Purgatory was one of the northeast’s hardest lines, and to this day it remains an impressive lead and a testament to Joe’s skill and determination.

I had seen Joe’s name all over the Adirondack ice guide but I didn’t realize he’d kept an eye on the Catskills too. It turns out the ever prolific Joe Szot had scoured the Hudson Valley for ephemeral ice lines, and continued to visit long after his first ascent of Purgatory. Just a few years ago he came down to climb a rarely formed free-standing pillar with Rich Gottlieb in an undisclosed Shawangunk location.

Joe was a prolific and well-traveled climber. During my 15 years as a climber in New York state I never met him, probably because I’m pretty shy and intimidated by such accomplished climbers. Each spring and fall though, I would see him at the deli below the Gunks, or out climbing in the Trapps. His wiry frame and wild brown hair was easy to recognize from a long way off.

By now this is old news, but Joe died of a heart attack on March 14th, during one of his annual spring pilgrimages to the Gunks. He was climbing in the Gunks with his partner when he began feeling ill. Sadly, despite CPR and attempts to keep him alive, he could not be revived. This is a sad week for climbers in the Northeast.

The rest of us have so much to learn from this man and his life. Joe did not live his life as if it was a Purgatory. He was young – 51 years old, and he retired early so that he could live his dream. Joe climbed all over, welcomed friends to stay with him at the Bivy and made new friends all the time. There was always time for more climbing, another late night beer and more stories. We should all be so wise. The northeast has lost a true climbing legend and a friend to all. He will be greatly missed, even by those who didn’t know him. RIP Joe.

 

An Unlikely Mentor

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This is my first in a series of posts about climbers that have greatly influenced my own experiences, style, and climbing ethics. I met Alden Pellett when I was a young and inexperienced winter climber. Sharing a rope with him has had a great affect on me. He is probably the individual who has most influenced my own winter climbing style.

I was 23, working in the South Burlington Eastern Mountain Sports, and a budding winter climber. A very lonely soloist, I frequented the Notch (Smuggler’s) several days a week to climb a circuit of moderates by myself. I had no climbing partners and was desperate to climb harder routes on a rope with a partner. During the prior season, my last year in college at St. Lawrence, I led things like Powerplay, Positive Thinking, and the Waterfall at Poke-O. I thought I was a pretty solid ice climber.

newf24 One evening, while working, I struck up a conversation with another local ice climber who was doing some holiday shopping. He introduced himself as “Alden” and I immediately knew who he was. I’m pretty sure any climber who’s memorized ice climbing guidebooks from the northeast and pored over the “gallery” section of climbing mags knows who he is. Who hasn’t seen his pictures of Lake Willoughby? We traded phone numbers and Alden went on his way.

Later that season, April actually, after a major rainy thaw followed by a freeze (the kind that yields major new routes if you can be in the right place at the right time) I hooked up with another local Jeremy (Rowdy) to go climbing in the Notch. We randomly bumped into Alden up there and the three of us climbed Ragnarock together. I led the ice pitches, Alden led the rock pitch in the middle. That day remains forever etched in my memory. I had never seen someone swing their axes so hard at dirt. This guy had clearly climbed a lot of turf. Now this, I thought, is someone I’d like to climb with some more.

After a winter spent in the high desert of central Oregon I returned to the Northeast and, having lots of weekday free time, began trolling for partners at Lake Willoughby. I climbed with at least a half a dozen different people there and managed to scrap my way up most of the classic routes that were 5+ or easier. With most weekdays off I had real trouble pinning down a committed partner. I must have called Alden a handful of times but didn’t hear back from him. Why wouldn’t this guy call me back?

At the end of that season he called. He invited me to come along with him and Doug Dillon to climb “Called” at the Lake. Hell yes I would come climbing. It’s about time, jeez, I’d only called the guy a dozen times. We had fun, things began to click and the three of us enjoyed a classic late season bluebird day at the Lake.

pipe-dreams newf20 alden-pt

Another summer faded into winter and we became regular partners and weekday warriors. We climbed Cloak and Dagger in Smuggler’s Notch, linked up the Promenade, Last Gentleman and Mindbender in a short December day, scratched up a few new routes in the Notch and the dacks. A season later came Five Musketeers in tough shape. Several no-fall zones and there’s no one I would rather have on the other end than Alden. In that kind of territory, more than anything else, an experienced partner inspires confidence.

The following year I began guiding in New Paltz and frequenting Vermont less. Alden began doing less freelance photo work for Associated Press. For us, getting together to climb has become more difficult these days. However, one thing remains unchanged. He has been, to me, the single most influential individual in my winter climbing career.

cloak-dagger Alden began his climbing life at 29. In his past life he was an aggressive skier, wrestler and lacrosse player. His knees, however, screamed for a break from all the pounding. As a climber, like many of us, he felt the calling and was climbing harder ice routes almost immediately. While he’s traveled rather extensively to climb since then, Alden has chosen to make his mark as a climber in his home state of Vermont.

For most of the past 20 years Alden has been on the cutting edge of winter climbing in the Northeast and has heavily influenced new route development in Smuggler’s Notch and at Lake Willoughby. Routes like Dominatrix (WI4+,M6), Scream Queen(WI4+,M5), the French Tickler(WI 4, M6, A0), Five Musketeers (WI5+,M6), I have a Dream (M7) and Pipe Dreams (WI6X, M5) all have Alden’s stamp on them. Each one of these routes has been climbed ground-up without the use of bolts. His cool head and willingness to climb way above gear has made him an outstanding first ascensionist.

Ascents like this don’t come without a few stories though. I’ve climbed with him on more than one occasion while he’s had a patch over one eyebrow (a little hanger came off during one attempt on the French Tickler (WI4, M6, A0) and popped him square in the eye). Dave Furman caught a huge whipper that he took on his first attempt at I Have a Dream. Fortunately the screw and the car-size free hanger it was attached to both held. Perhaps my favorite story is of a spread eagle face first 35-footer on pitch 2 of Five Musketeers during the first attempt at that route. Alden unexpectedly barn-doored off of two very small patches of turf and went sailing. Doug Dillon swore he was going to be maimed by Alden who was practically skydiving towards him. Fortunately for Doug, Alden stopped just above the ledge where he stood. A purple TCU in nasty limestone had held his fall.

If you’ve been out climbing in the Adirondacks or Vermont and have bumped into a guy running up routes by himself most likely you too have chatted with Alden. He’s a talkative Vermonter with a wry sense of humor. In fact he is, at times, so talkative about his own climbing that you might think he’s stroking his ego. If you listen carefully though you begin to realize that he’s actually quite modest and that much of his talk is both self-deprecating and very humorous. On one occasion together, after climbing a probable new route on the Future Wall at Poke-O, we headed to Chapel Pond Canyon where we found a true Adirondack hardman very comfortably leading Ice Storm (a really hard to protect ephemeral Alex Lowe route). Alden turned around and whispered to me “we’re a bunch of pansies compared to these guys”.

Climbing aside, Alden’s true talent lies in his ability to capture images of the people and landscapes of Vermont in a way that few others can. He’s been covering news, sports and politics as a photojournalist and artist around Vermont for over 20 years. There are some amazing photos in his archive to show for it. If you’re interested have a look on his website Vermont Photographer. For more of his photos you can also look at aldenpellett.photoshelter.com. His photos regularly appear in Vermont Life and many of his climbing images have been published in Rock and Ice and Climbing. If you like Alden’s photos why not buy a print and support a local artist? Then he could make more money and I could have my weekday climbing partner back;)

After nearly 10 years of climbing together with Alden, I’m grateful for the partnership and learning experiences it has provided. He’s proven to be a great partner and friend, and much of what I know about both photography and winter climbing can be attributed to climbing with him.