
Here’s a shot of Leavitation from the last belay on Eagle Dance in Red Rocks. We’re currently waiting for another party to leave the belay so we can rappel.
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Here’s a shot of Leavitation from the last belay on Eagle Dance in Red Rocks. We’re currently waiting for another party to leave the belay so we can rappel.
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‘Tis the season for what? Well, for Jack-o-lanterns and Turkeys maybe, for Christmas spirit, no way. It’s the season to start prepping your ice gear for the upcoming winter. I’ve used a lot of gear over the decade and a half that I’ve been ice climbing and I’ve learned the value of having good gear in flawless working order. Ice and mixed climbing is really gear intensive, and most accomplished climbers are fanatical about their own personal kit.
I realized about five years ago, after sandbagging a friend with my dull ice screws, that it was time to get some new, sharper screws. I replaced my whole rack over the course of the next season. Now I keep my screws sharp, and most of the time I can do minor touch-ups with a small flat file.
If I roll a tooth over big time though (this happens easily on thin ice over hard rock like granite) I need to replace the screw or have it professionally sharpened. In the past I’ve just replaced screws, relying on a good propurchase price for new ice screws. However, I won’t be buying new ice screws any longer unless I need more screws. It seems silly to replace a screw when a good sharpening plus a little cleaning can make a dull screw perform just like a new one. It’s better than replacing, better than recycling, you can just keep reusing the same screw until you no longer need it, which means that same screw might just last your whole life.
Quick, solid ice screw placements are both safety and speed on hard leads where the limit of one’s endurance is pushed. So, if I’m not going to replace screws when they get dull, how am I going to keep them sharp for speedy placements?
When my screws need sharpening I’ll be sending them to Jason Hurwitz, a local climber and guide in the New Paltz area. Jason, a jeweler by trade, has transitioned to guiding and life in the Hudson Valley over the past few years, and last season started a screw and pick sharpening business out of his home in Stone Ridge.
Jason began sharpening screws for friends in the New Paltz area, and many of them were so impressed with his work that they suggested he start a screw sharpening service to make some extra cash and help local climbers out. Alas, A Nice Screw was born.
If you want to have ice screws sharpened you have several options. You can send them to a facility with a jig and have the screws machine sharpened, or you can have them manually sharpened by someone with a finer touch. Either way, when you grind the screw too quickly you can ruin the temper on the steel. This is really easy to do on a machine, and the weakened metal on your screws will have a bluish black tinge that doesn’t wipe away. It’s harder to do this when you’re working each tooth by hand. Jason, who has a jeweler’s touch, does a really good job preserving the screw’s heat treatment.
In many cases he can make your old screw bite better that it did when it came from the factory. This is especially true of older screws like the old style Black Diamond and Omega Pacific models.
If you’re thinking of having some screws sharpened consider sending them to Jason. He’s a climber, local and a true artisan; it makes good sense. I’ve included some images of Jason’s work in this post and you can check out his cleverly named website here.
I rarely write about training for climbing. Fitness is something I take pretty seriously as a climber and guide, yet it’s something I’m fairly unscientific about. I won’t pretend to be an expert on the topic. The things I’ve learned have come from years of my own personal training for climbing and running.
I’m going to share my feelings about training, a few things that work for me, and my motivations. Most of us have extra free time, or a bit of extra cash. It’s rare that any of us has both of those commodities. We either play a lot and make less money, or we work a lot, have extra money and are short on free time. I fall into the former category. During the busiest times of the year as a guide I have zero free time. However, once the season slows I might have 3-4 days each week to play. This has affected how I choose to train for climbing. At certain points during the year I might not be able to train at all, and that’s fine. Being able to let go sometimes is important. Climbing fitness can be fleeting, and any serious prolonged training has always led to some form of finger injury for me.
My feeling is that the best training for climbing is…. wait for it, wait for it….
Climbing.
Again, bear in mind that I have a lot of time to climb during certain times of the year. I love climbing in all it’s shapes and forms; the movement over rock and ice, psychological challenges and physical problem solving are immensely rewarding. The thought of doing something else to make me better at climbing isn’t very appealing. Over the past few years I’ve seen a lot of people jump on the Crossfit bandwagon, but I’m not sold. I tried Crossfit for a short while and found the short, very intense workouts were quite satisfying. However, I also noticed that they made me so tired and inflexible that I couldn’t climb well afterward. This actually scared me. If you can’t climb well on lead because you’re physically exhausted from a previous day’s workout it becomes a safety issue, especially during the winter when you’re wearing sharp things.
Two things about climbing, and climbers who climb well seem to stand out. Climbing is movement specific; the more you climb the larger your encyclopedia of body movements becomes, and the better you understand your own body’s movement capabilities. If you don’t understand how your body moves, and what it’s limitations are you need to climb more. The other climbing specific aspect is related to time on a rope. Without “rope time” I’m unwilling to push it, on lead and toprope. When I don’t get on a rope frequently enough I’m scared of falling, and I’ll psychologically limit myself,
I don’t want to diminish the importance of weight training, or aerobic/anaerobic/weight training combinations like Crossfit/Mountain Athlete for certain types of climbing at particular times of the year. It’s good to have a base of fitness to avoid injury and build endurance and power. However, it’s important to remember what we’re training for here on the east coast. Are you training to schlep giant loads up Denali, or to speedily carry a moderately heavy pack up a steeper alpine objective like Mt. Hunter? No, most likely you’re training to climb harder rock, ice or mixed routes locally. How do we train for that? Well, if you have a climbing area nearby that’s probably your best bet. An indoor climbing gym would be a close second place. The challenging movements and smaller holds found on most harder rock climbs make the more straightforward movement with ice tools on ice seem easy.
We need to be honest about another thing too. As much as we tend to overlook hand/crimp strength, it’s probably the single most important factor in determining how well one climbs. Chris Sharma is a great example of an individual with exceptional natural hand strength; he was climbing 5.13 only months after he started climbing. How many people do you know that climb 5.13? Do you think his movement skills were honed at that time? Probably not, but he had strong hands. We forget that without strong hands you can’t hold on to small holds or tool handles to make those challenging moves.
I choose to spend what little money I make available for fitness on a membership at a climbing gym. At my local gym I share a two person membership with my girlfriend and the cost is about $45/person each month. That’s comparable to a normal gym membership, and much less than the cost of most gyms that offer a workout of the day, especially considering that a remote training program will require a subscription and a local gym membership too. While at the climbing gym I attempt to focus on my own weaknesses or things that are “season specific” and work on being on the sharp end at the same time. Additionally, it’s fun, I can do it with good friends and I might meet a new climbing partner or two (they’re harder to come by than you think). Right now, for the upcoming ice and mixed season I’ve really been focusing on hanging on, the way one would on a longer mixed or ice route. The size of the holds doesn’t change when you’re hanging on your tools, but you might hang for 45 minutes to an hour in awkward positions during a hard onsight or redpoint. At this point mileage is key. Instead of getting fully blown out on any particular route I try to build endurance and work towards the ridiculous pump much later in the workout or day.
I like to supplement as much climbing as I can with a lot of aerobic/anaerobic exercise and core strengthening activities. Don’t underestimate the importance of an aerobic fitness base. It helps your body supply much needed oxygen to your muscles when you’re working hard and helps keep weight off. My activity of choice here is running. I’m fortunate enough to have good knees and an affinity for running. It’s something I’ve been doing my whole life. I know there are others out there that detest it. I’ve got news for you though, if you want bang-for-your-buck you’re going to have to cross country ski or run to get the toughest aerobic workout in the shortest amount of time. Years ago I was a competitive cyclist and a 4-6 hour ride some days was commonplace. That’s just nuts. Most of us don’t have that kind of time, and that’s where running comes in. You can run for forty minutes 2-3 times a week and put together a pretty solid aerobic base. In the spring I purchased a heart rate monitor and began using it to help identify target training zones. I don’t use it all the time now, but it was helpful for gauging how I should feel in certain zones. This year I’ve also participated in a few local Tuesday night 5k cross-country races and Thursday night track workouts when I’m at home. They’ve expanded my aerobic fitness which seems to help a lot – even when I’m climbing less I manage to climb well.
Rest is training component that is frequently overlooked. Overtraining happens, and it can land you with a cold, an injury or a lack of motivation. As I’ve aged I find that rest is has become more important. Mentally I’m able to push as hard as I used to, but afterwards I’m tired. I take full rest days more often, and during weeks that have a lot of hard climbing/guiding and workouts I make a concerted effort to rest. For me, a rest day has no exercise except some stretching and a leisurely walk with my dog.
What keeps me motivated? Doing new climbs is one of my main motivations. They don’t have to be first ascents, but hopefully I’ve never climbed them before. Even as a guide I try not to repeat climbs too often. I seek out the obscure, dirty, and physical lost classics. There’s more good climbing at small crags around New England than one might think. I’m not a project guy. I don’t work things into submission and I get bored easily, so having a long list of “to do’s” at the myriad of small crags in southern New England has been helpful for me. New route development in the Catskills is another motivator that starts to kick in during the late summer. The mixed climbing standard is slowly getting pushed higher, and establishing new routes in the M8-M10 range is going to require good fitness.
Would I benefit from a specific training program? Probably. Do I enjoy what I’ve been doing with my time? Definitely. Have I been able to climb newer routes and harder objectives each climbing season? You bet. So, if you have the time, a very climbing-focused training program may be just the way to get good results.
I’ve spent a lot of nights snoozing on the ground this year. Between guided and recreational trips I’m edging towards the 60-night mark. For about 58 of those nights I’ve slept on a Big Agnes Air Core sleeping pad. If I was 7 again, I’d swear to you that I could catch waves at the Jersey shore with this funny looking raft-thing. Unfortunately, my 190lb body would probably sink that raft nowadays. You get the idea though, the Big Agnes Air Core sleeping pad is basically a simple air mattress with durable welded seams and full-length cylindrical chambers. At 2.5″ thick it’s easily the most comfortable sleeping pad I’ve ever owned, and I’ve slept many a sound night on it.
How did I settle on the Air Core, when there are lots of good lightweight sleeping pads on the market? Well, after several years of sleeping on thinner foam pads or 1′ thick Thermarest pads, I decided that I wanted to sleep well outside. Multiple nights on hard ground with thinner pads left my back and hips (I’m a side sleeper) feeling pretty sore. Try sleeping on bare bedrock with a 3/4″ thick sleeping pad for several nights in a row. The chiropractor will absolutely love you after your trip. Other new thicker, yet lightweight, mattress options were available to me, namely the Thermarest NeoAir and the Pacific Outdoor Equipment Ether Elite. The catch here is that I’m not made of money. The NeoAir is $120, the Ether Elite is $70, and the Air Core is only $50. I didn’t want to spend a ton, and the Ether Elite, which is 5 ounces lighter than the Air Core was backordered so I ended up with an Air Core before my trip to the Ruth Gorge this past April.
At first I was skeptical. After all, if you pop this puppy you’re screwed, and it seems like it would be easy to pop. The 70-denier nylon feels thin. 60 nights so far this year seem to indicate otherwise though. I’ve used the pad on glaciers in Alaska, snowfields on Mt. Rainier and in the North Cascades, and on dirt, gravel and grass throughout the Pacific Northwest and the Northeast all summer long. It seems durable to me so far, but I’ve been careful not to sleep on bare ground without some sort of layer underneath the Air Core.
Big Agnes suggests using a foam pad underneath when the temperatures dip below 35 degrees. This is sound advice, and I’d add that you should consider an additional piece of closed cell foam when you’re going to sleep on snow even if it’s 70 degrees outside. Air doesn’t insulated the way foam does. A 5mm thick piece of evazote does the trick and doesn’t weigh much either. Evazote is hard to find in the states but can be ordered from the MEC website and has amazing insulative value. Look around at expedition pictures from the past and you’ll see people using those bright yellow evazote pads in cold climates on big mountains. A good option is to use a full-length 5mm evazote pad as the backpad in your pack and then add it to your sleeping system in camp. This option works especially well with some of the smaller overnight/alpine climbing packs that have a foam insert as their frame.
The Air Core, while not as light as the NeoAir or Ether Elite, is still small and easy to pack. When rolled tightly it’s about the size of a one liter water bottle. This is a major selling point; even if it doesn’t give you substantial weight savings over your current sleeping pad it will reduce the size of your kit. Having a smaller, tighter pack for alpine climbs makes the climbing feel easier and safer. That alone is reason enough to choose one of the new inflatable pads like the Air Core.
So, if you’re on a budget and in the market for a new pad, consider the Big Agnes Air Core. It’s lightweight, small in size, and will provide you with a good night’s sleep. What more could you ask for?
I’ll admit it. I’m a total tech nerd, but I’m definitely an everyman as far as paying for technology goes. I don’t have a Macbook, as I don’t feel the need to shell out $1500 only to do most of my computing on the cloud anyways. I have really useful, yet inexpensive PC’s with Windows or better yet, free Linux operating systems. I don’t have an Iphone either, but rather an Android phone (also Linux based). Finally, I love going down the technological rabbit hole and emerging with even more knowledge of the really powerful tools we all own but don’t use to their full potential. Interestingly enough, one of the most useful backcountry tools I have is my smartphone. I have an HTC Evo 4g, which I’ve been using since June, and I count it as the best digital device I’ve ever owned.
So, why is it so useful in the backcountry though? Obvious reasons, like the phone and camera functions for emergency use seem to stand out. However, it’s the less obvious uses that really make the phone shine. Here are the reasons I like having the phone with me in the woods:
For most of us on the east coast, we don’t use a GPS all that often. In fact, the only time during the year that I use a GPS is during winter trips on Mt. Washington and the Presidential Range. I have a Garmin Etrex Vista HCX, which is the device that many guides use. You can add a microSD card to it and underlay topographic maps on the display. The problem is that the display is approximately 1.5″ x 2.25″; it’s almost too small to be really usable.
Enter Backcountry Navigator Pro. For $9.99 you get an app that harnesses the GPS, compass and accelerometer in your smartphone and makes it incredibly useful for navigation. With Backcountry Navigator you can download USGS 1:24000 or Canadian 1:50000 maps right off of mytopo.com. Once saved, those map tiles can be used regardless of whether or not you have phone service.
During my recent AMGA Advanced Alpine Guides Course, I found that Backcountry Navigator was easier to use for trip planning than my National Geographic Topo! program, and I had my phone along for a backup should the GPS batteries conk out. You don’t have to buy individual map credits or a full set of maps for each state either; it’s as easy as saving the maps to your phone ahead of time. For those of us who only need to use a GPS a few times a year, try out BC Navigator and save some money by not buying a GPS at all. The display on my phone is better than the GPS and the UI (user interface) on BC Navigator is faster and easier to use than my Garmin. Amazing.
One of the reasons I’ve been happy with the HTC phone is that I can replace the battery easily. In the backcountry I’ll carry up to two spare batteries which allows me to use the phone quite a bit and not worry about it dying inadvertently. To me this seems to be one advantage over the Iphone.
For those who are interested, there are other cool apps like Xclinometer to measure slope angle for skiing, and a few climbing apps that seem interesting. If you’re an Iphone user, Alpinewerx is also worth a look, as they have guidebook apps for several major rock climbing destinations. The screenshots taken for this post were made using Shootme, an application that works really well on rooted Android phones.
I’m a minimalist, climbing clutter drives me crazy. One of my recent attempts to unclutter my daily climbing routine began with a new daypack. I was so impressed with my new Chernobyl that I went ahead and ordered a cragging pack from CCW too. I ordered a stock Cold Cold World Ozone before I left for Washington.
Before we get any further I’d like to get a few things straight. Many packs are measured in liters. How many cubic inches are there in a liter anyways? Well, it turns out there are actually 61 cubic inches in each liter, so when you’re trying to guess at a pack’s volume and you hear someone say 30 liters you know it’s 1800 cubic inches. We can do simple math all day, but let’s get on with my real point. From my perspective it seems like most pack manufacturers use a volume measurement, like 30L, as a rough guideline to indicate how big their bag is. Unfortunately a lot of manufacturers also really seem to miss the mark when it comes to pack volume (and weight but that’s another issue for some other whine and cheese party). A good example of this was my old BD Sphynx 32. It was a lot bigger than my current Ozone but was called a 32L bag. If the Ozone is actually 2300 cubic inches, and I’m inclined to believe Randy Rackcliff on this one, that means it’s volume is 37L. If that’s true then my Sphynx 32 was easily in the 40-45L range, which is an entirely different size pack with an entirely different set of applications. Why don’t most pack manufacturers give exact volumes instead of being vague and potentially misleading?
This brings me to my next point – cragging packs don’t really need to be anything more than a functional durable sack with a nice set of shoulder straps. Most large gear companies feel the need to continually make fabric and design refinements to “improve” existing products. These improvements seem to come at the cost of pack durability. Rather than waste time refining already good designs with fancy crap that won’t last very long, why not charge the same price for a simple well-built bag made in the US or Canada by people who know our game intimately? If these companies could cut out the bullsh*t, save money on design and marketing and make a product that spoke for itself we’d probably be headed in the right direction.
I digress. Onwards.
The CCW Ozone is reminiscent of the timeless klettersac, a simple climbing bag meant to hold all your worldly possessions during a day in the mountains. I’m not that old, but I’d be willing to bet most climbers my age or younger have no idea what “klettersac” means, or that for generations they were the standard climber’s pack. Nowadays you see zip-open climbing suitcases, expedition size packs and bags made of airy disposable ripstop fabric everywhere at the crag. One is hard pressed to find simple klettersacs anywhere these days. It’s sort of a shame because klettersacs are, relatively speaking, cheap to produce, big on durability and functionality and small in size forcing one to actually think about what they’re bringing to the cliff. You can’t bring the kitchen sink along with you in a klettersac and you definitely won’t look like a frumpy version of the leaning tower of Pisa as you approach the crag with this type of bag.
The devil is in the details, and with the Ozone there aren’t many details, which was it’s most attractive selling point for me. There are four pockets total, and the whole pack is made of bright red ballistics cloth meaning it just might outlast all of my other gear twice over. There are two small zipper pockets in the lid and one along the backpad for extra storage of smaller/seldom used items. The same foam backpad that adorns all the other CCW packs is built into the Ozone too. There are no ax attachments, no compression straps and there is no padding on the 1.5″ wide webbing waistbelt. It’s a looker too, believe me; I get comments on the pack every day.
The Ozone was clearly carefully designed to fit only what’s needed for a day at the cliffs and nothing extra. It will fit a full single rack, draws or runners, harness and chalkbag, shoes, helmet, 1 or 2 extra layers, 2 liters of water (in a dromedary for me), lunch and my emergency/med kit. The rope fits unbelievably well under the bonnet rounding out a really clean functional package. There isn’t a whole lot of extra space and you have to stuff things in carefully for it all to fit. I want to emphasize that this pack, despite it’s overtly simple design, is one of the most well-thought out pieces of gear I own. Elastic on the underside of the lid gives it the ability to stretch right over a coiled rope, keeping it comfortably in place, even when the pack is stuffed completely full.
The result of this careful, minimalist design is a pack that doesn’t need a padded waistbelt to carry well. Instead, the pack rides just above the waist with everything tightly packed against your back.
I see a lot of potential in this simple design, and knowing that Randy can custom build a pack like this in slightly bigger sizes, or with lighter fabrics makes me want to have him build a slightly larger, custom alpine/ice version of this same design for winter use in the northeast and for light overnight forays on bigger alpine objectives.
If you’re interested in the Ozone head over to the CCW site or give Randy a call, the customer service over at Cold Cold World rivals the quality of his designs and workmanship. All in all, the ordering experience is a breath of fresh air in our fully automated digital world, and his packs are the work of a true artisan.
For more information about the Ozone, or what the customization possibilities are with one of these packs have a look at these Coldthistle posts:
When you’re sitting around a fire on a climbing roadtrip yammering about all the awesome places there are to rock climb, Montana is rarely mentioned. It’s true, there aren’t any major venues there to visit, but the place is just brimming with climbable rock. Locals know this, and I think they’ve done a pretty good job of keeping things off the radar. To top this off the routes are incredibly sandbagged, and the climbs are graded similarly to some old school areas like Yosemite, Eldo and the Adirondacks.
Prior to my AMGA course in the Cascades I stopped in Bozeman, Montana for a bit of an alpine warmup in anticipation of my Cascade chossathlon. I have climbed ice in Montana on multiple occasions now, and I’ve climbed a day or two in Gallatin Canyon (an understated gem with bulletproof rock and beautiful climbing). It’s not like I didn’t know there was climbing in Montana. What I found on this most recent four-day trip though, was that Montana has giant alpine routes on bulletproof rock. This discovery was pleasantly surprising and a bit startling. You hear all the time about the Tetons, the Wind River Range and Rocky Mountain National Park. You never hear about the Absaroka Range or the Beartooths though when you’re talking about the Rockies.
I landed in Bozeman at 1 p.m.; one of my favorite climbing partners, Lawrence Haas, was waiting when I arrived. By 4:30 p.m. most of a six-pack Deschutes Inversion IPA was gone and we were on our way to Livingston, bags packed and ready to go. At 5:30 (yes, only one hour from town!) we were on the trail. 9 uphill miles later we stumbled into camp, pitched our tent in a nice bivy site by Elbow Lake and sacked out. 22 hours of traveling plus a bit of elevation gain had pooped me out.
We woke the following morning to chilly temperatures and low lying clouds. The clouds prevented us from wanting to climb our objective, the Montana Centennial Route. After some serious caffeination, bloatmeal (I detest instant oatmeal) and the normal morning constitutionals we wandered up to some nearby formations on the left side of Elbow Lake. Here, a confusing looking set of towers stands sentinel over Elbow Lake and our camp. We decided on a short but beautiful corner system that stood out from camp.
As we approached the Papa Bear, the Mama Bear and the Baby Bear things became much clearer. What looked like one confusing cliff was actually three different buttresses with gullies between them. We found our corner system on the Baby Bear and soloed up the base to rope up. Woohoo! The laser cut corner system had not one but two splitter cracks at the back, at right angles to each other. I won the roshambo and started up the money pitch. 80 feet up, the splitters ended at an awkward 5.9 layback through a wide section. After a puzzling moment I was at the belay. Two moderate pitches later we were on top, with good views of our approach the following day and of the beautiful cirque above.
We awoke at 4:30 a.m. the following morning. The Montana Centennial Route, with a total of eleven 50m+ pitches including several pitches of 5.10 and 5.11 plus a whole bunch of 5.9 and 5.8, was going to take us all day. We were on the trail by 6 and racked up at the base by 7. Two slightly wandering 5.8 pitches deposited us at the first really engaging pitch, an awkward 5.10 crack system that ended with a strange holdless slab move through an overlap. Bizarre unprotected easy face climbing led to the belay.
From here the routefinding was straightforward but the climbing was continuously challenging and reminiscent of the Scenic Cruise in the Black Canyon. An amazing long corner (230′ to be exact) with wild 5.9 climbing at the top led to a ramp system. From here a beautiful corner and crack took us to another nice ledge below the crux. The crux, which Lawrence led, consisted of a challenging roof traverse followed by fun corner climbing and a 5.11b layback/stand-up move to crappiest sloper on Earth. Apparently Gallatin Canyon has been good schooling for Larry, he sent the thing first go. I on the other hand, with 4-liters of water, jackets and shoes in the pack on my back, whined, inched and hung my way through things. Typical I guess; I always seem to get the beatdown on technical granite cruxes.
The exposed climbing above, which was intensified by rope-levitating winds, is solid, challenging and memorable. A red Camalot sized splitter runs for nearly a whole pitch at one point and the pitch above sports bizarre holdless friction moves and some thrutching up a beautiful wide crack and corner system. However, like so many other alpine routes that don’t go to true summits, the route ends ignominiously on a loose 4th class ridge that’s uncharacteristic of the lower 95% of the route.
A short walk and two rappels put us squarely on solid ground. From there it’s a load of loose 3rd class plus a few rappels back to the base, or a long easy scramble to the back of the basin for the walk off. We chose the latter, and after a lot of getting cliffed out we finally found our traverse off. Forty minutes later we were sipping whiskey and chowing snacks at the tent.
Our descent down to the car was memorable for one reason only – it’s all downhill for 9 miles, which really isn’t that cool. Actually, after a while it sucks. However, the cold beverages stashed in the creek at the trailhead were our carrot on a stick.
The Montana Centennial Route, which is graded IV 5.11a, is similar in length to the Scenic Cruise (V, 5.10d) in the Black Canyon but with slightly harder climbing. This grade seems consistent with the sense of understatement and the traditional grading found on a lot of the climbs in Montana. The area was so impressive that Lawrence and I are already scheming about even bigger objectives in the Beartooths, just east of the Absaroka Range. So, if you’re looking for good alpine climbing in an easy to access spot with zero crowds consider the Cowen Cirque in the Absaroka Range near Livingston MT, you won’t be disappointed.
It’s rare for me to post photos with only small amounts of text, as I am much more a writer than a photographer. However, I’ve just returned from a trip to the great “Northwet” region (the North Cascades!), where we had surprisingly dry weather for more than 90% of our 12-day AMGA Advanced Alpine Guides Course. The weather, route selection and positioning left me with some really great images. Below are some of the best, with the nighttime shots from Forbidden Peak’s West Ridge Col being my favorite.
Thanks to Rob Hess, Jeff Ward, Thor Husted, Mark Fallender, Gary Falk, Mike Abbey and Karsten Delap for being great company on this 12-day choss odyssey!
Late September wildflowers adorn the Hogsback on Mt. Baker.
Heading up the Coleman Glacier for some crevasse rescue practice.
Sunset on the Coleman Glacier.
Crevasse rescue practice on the upper White Salmon Glacier. Crevasse rescue is an integral portion of the technical skills assessment in the AMGA Alpine Discipline.
Sunset, our spectacular rocky camp above the White Salmon glacier can be seen on the lower left side.
Sunset, our group cooking dinner under the last rays of sun.
Nearing the Northeast Ridge of the summit pyramid on Mt. Shuksan. The group in the photo is using a terrain feature, the small snow ridge, to keep climbers safe should someone slip.
Karsten Delap gaining the northeast ridge of Mt. Shuksan’s rocky summit pyramid via a steep snow cone
Thor Husted, easily one of the most surefooted individuals with whom I’ve had the pleasure of spending time in the mountains, scoping a good line down the south side of Mt. Shuksan’s summit pyramid
Karsten Delap pulling ropes on our way down a steeper section of the Fischer Chimneys on Mt. Shuksan. Mt. Baker looms large in the background.
Rob Hess showing us how to fist jam up a whopping 5-foot long crack, nearly the only solid rock on the entire south side of Cuttthroat Peak.
Karsten Delap looking for a good line to the top of Concord Tower, Washington Pass
Terrain like this rock ridge on Concord Tower is challenging to negotiate safely with participants who may not like extreme amounts of exposure. Here, instructor Jeff Ward is demonstrating one good technique.
Karsten Delap posing for a photo opportunity
Bellingham city lights, a full moon, Eldorado Peak and the big dipper make for spectacular nighttime scenery. F3.3, 50 seconds ISO 80. A touch of lightening shadows (1%) in Photoshop
A cloud bank stalls near Cascade Pass, Glacier Peak in the background. F3.3, 50 seconds, ISO 80
Could Pink Floyd have visited this col prior to designing Dark Side of the Moon’s album artwork? Forbidden Peak’s West Ridge with a full moon behind.
The West Ridge of Forbidden in deteriorating weather, a marked change from weather during the remainder of our course.
If you’d like to view all of the images in a slide show, here it is:
If you’ve read any of my other pack reviews, you’ll recall that I have had several Black Diamond packs over the past few years. My most recent heavily used pack was a Sphynx 32, a 35-ish liter bag that worked for nearly all of my daily and multiday climbing pursuits and was reasonably durable. I say “worked” because I don’t really feel like it excelled at all those things.
The Sphynx was the right size for cragging, alright for day length or overnight alpine climbs and a bit too small for full-on “bring the whole kitchen sink” winter endeavors. The non-reinforced bottom and fixed top lid were, in many ways, detrimental to the pack’s design as a day/multiday alpine load hauler. Whereas my older CCW Chernobyl had almost four years of devoted guiding and recreational climbing use on it before I retired it, the Sphynx was looking pretty knackered after only a year and a half. The lid and top load adjuster straps were ripping off, there were two dozen small holes in the non-reinforced bottom, the drawstring grommet had ripped out, and worst of all, the suspension design caused the pack to squeak like a dying duck all the way to the cliff.
It was time for a new pack. After a lot of searching I came to this conclusion – my hope for a more well-built and better designed all-around bag than the Chernobyl was an absolute pipe dream. Yes, there are times when it would be nice to have more suspension, and times when would be nice to have a pack that was superlight, but not at the cost of added weight, complexity and a lack of durability. I am a minimalist, and while I do have a lot of specialized gear, I like to have gear that serves many purposes whenever possible.
I looked at almost all of the available bags out there, including the Cilogear and BlueIce bags, and determined that having a local guy (Randy Rackliff) from NH make me a durable well fitting bag made the most sense. No other bags have the same build quality, value, or the lightweight/durable combination shown in CCW’s packs.
So, knowing that I wanted a new Chernobyl, I dropped Randy an email. I mentioned that my old Chernobyl felt too short in the torso. He suggested making the torso length 1″ longer which I liked, and offered it at no additional costs. Less than two weeks later I had the package at my doorstep. It took one day to ship from Jackson, NH and with shipping cost me a whopping $188.
After receiving the package, excitedly opening it up, and inspecting the pack I was impressed by the workmanship. No detail has been left unattended – there are no loose threads or missed stitches. The pack is flawlessly crafted, and despite the use of durable materials and large, fairly heavy-duty buckles, the pack is lightweight. There is nothing superfluous in the design – no modular suspensions, rotating ball joint hipbelts, squeaking framesheets or fancy straps and buckles. The design remains much the same: a straight-sided top loader with a floating lid that allows for maximum versatility in a year-round cragging/alpine climbing pack.

The simple suspension on the Chernobyl, no gimmicks here, just bombproof stitching and durable materials
Randy has made some simple design improvements to the CCW packs over the past few years. Some of these improvements include ice clipper attachments on the waistbelt, a layer of ballistics nylon reinforcing the bottom of the bag (as opposed to the older double layer of packcloth), and more durable fabric on the shoulder straps and waistbelt which make the straps feel stiffer. The 1″ longer torso is going to make a huge difference when carrying heavy loads. Everything else about the pack is pretty similar to my older Chernobyl, making this newer version about the best climbing bag I’ve ever owned.
My only addition is a thin stiff framesheet with a single aluminum stay from an older backpack. This helps the bag keep it’s shape during the constant unpacking and repacking associated with cragging. During multiday alpine trips I remove this framesheet and store my Big Agnes Aircore pad alongside the foam backpad. I remove the Aircore pad at camp. The softer foam suspension helps the pack climb well when it’s a bit more empty during summit attempts or day-length objectives on a multiday trip.
So, after using a Black Diamond Sphynx 32 and a Black Diamond Epic 45 (look for a review of this bag soon and perhaps a comparison with the Chernobyl) for a short while, how does the Chernobyl compare? Well, for one thing, it doesn’t squeak. I also noticed right away that the Chernobyl is very straight sided, meaning the bag is easier to cram your stuff into, and stays upright during packing more easily than the Sphynx. As far as carrying goes, the bag is comfortable and rests right up against your back. It moves with you like few other packs do, but is going to be hot to wear on long tedious approaches and may not carry as well with really heavy alpine loads. The Chernobyl carries well with moderate loads, but like many other “suspension-less” packs requires careful packing so that it doesn’t feel too top heavy when overstuffed.
I’m just now wrapping up a 17-day trip to Montana and Washington where I’ve been doing short (2-4 day) alpine climbing objectives. I brought the Chernobyl along for the trip and used it to haul a big load into Montana’s Cowen Cirque for 4 days, for a trip up and down the Fischer Chimneys on Mt. Shuksan, an overnight on Mt. Baker, and a 2-day trip up Forbidden Peak in Boston Basin where we carried our loads up to the col on the West Ridge. It worked brilliantly for all of these, demonstrating it’s versatility. It’s a functional and durable alpine pack that I plan on having along for most of my alpine and winter objectives.
In fact, I was so pleased with the Chernobyl that I’ve ordered a CCW Ozone as my cragging pack. When I return home to Massachusetts tomorrow it should be there waiting for me, so look for an Ozone review sometime down the line.
As climbers and consumers we seldom think long and hard about where our gear comes from. For me, the time to think about these things has come; I encourage others to do the same. I want gear that, as much as possible, supports fair labor practices and promotes a high standard of living for those involved in the production process. Over the next couple of years I’m planning on replacing my aging fleet of gear with products from companies like Cold Cold World (NH), Wild Things (NH), Sterling Ropes (ME), Misty Mountain Threadworks (NC) and Metolius (OR). All of these companies make their products locally in their respective regions, consider durability and functionality as necessities, employ local climbers and receive feedback seriously when developing new designs.
Times have changed. I’m sitting at the saddle between the White Salmon Glacier and the Upper Curtis Glacier on Mt Shuksan on day 4 of my 12-day Advanced Alpine Guides Course. Tomorrow we’ll circumnavigate the summit of this beautiful Cascades peak.
I’ve had a pretty high tech phone since June and with the WordPress app for Android I’m able to post from anywhere there’s cell service. So, here are some pictures from our trip thus far.
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