Kenny Tuack and Neil Pilgrim freezing(I mean having fun) in Frenchman's Cove, NL

Deep, blowing snow. Cold gusting wind. Frozen eyelashes. Numb hands. Bulletproof ice…

Ice climbing is definitely not for the faint of heart or folks who like to play outside in fair weather. It’s a tough, dangerous game that also turns out to be incredibly rewarding. Something about it keeps me coming back for more. I think it’s the combination of fear, exhilaration and the supreme position that many ice climbs put you in.

Ice climbing seems to harvest a different breed of individuals than many other pursuits. They are absolutely die-hard about the sport, and at times seem to be a bit crazier than rock climbers. You can learn to ice climb in a season or two, but to become a practiced ice master requires many years, training, and most likely a mentorship with someone who’s been climbing a long time.

Erik Eisele in Huntington Ravine during an 8 gully day.

When I first began I was hooked (no pun intended). I was, however, absolutely clueless about the sport.  It wasn’t until I moved to Burlington after college that I began to climb more, and meet people who had even the remotest clue about climbing ice. Over the next few years I put in a ton of time climbing steep ice at Lake Willoughby and scrapping it in Smuggler’s Notch, climbing everything from the Tablets and Terror-Tory to Cloak and Dagger and the Five Musketeers. This provided a great foundation for future pursuits. During a visit out west after these few winters I realized that I was remarkably well prepared for the modern mixed climbing out there. Things like Birdbrain Bouldevard were a total cruise. It’s no wonder many of the U.S.’s best ice and alpine climbers come from the northeast. It is an amazing proving ground.

I have begun to put together some pages on the places that I have enjoyed ice climbing at. To start I have a Catskills page and a Newfoundland page that I have imported from the old site.