Hardwear Sessions

I was walking in a sauna, inhaling heavy, hot air, drenched, sweat pouring off me as if it were raining, gaining altitude up the mountain jungle with 80 pounds on my back, every step accessible only with a machete. The old man that lives in this steep mountain jungle walked with me carrying an 8-foot wooden contraption on his shoulder, and now I knew why: he wanted to hunt.

He stopped suddenly, planted the long, forked wood pole in the ground and pointed up into the tall, shiny-black-green trees above. He pulled out a slew of slings and attached them to the end of the wood pole, then took a stone from his purse made of vines and loaded his giant slingshot. I couldn't see what he was aiming at.

Schlakkk! One shot and a large possum fell 60-feet from the trees. Red, blue and green birds screamed and fled the scene. Before long we had a fire going. The whole possum was placed in the fire as is, its curly tail slowly coiling in the heat as its eyes oozed out of their sockets. After the fur and skin had been turned into a black charred shell, he took the beast from the fire and sliced open his belly. The intestines, among other organs, had been boiled in the carcass and he slurped them down with joy. The body of the possum went back to the fire so the flesh could roast. Soon I was feasting on possum legs like drumsticks with cat-like claws attached.

I still had over 8,000 feet to gain to reach the summit. Breath in, "The time issss..." Breath out, "Nowwww..." My reconnaissance to the eastern islands of Papua New Guinea were turning out to be exactly what I expected: absolutely no expectations and utter mystery. There was very little research information available for this area, though, I did know something for sure before leaving my home: that the area is remote, and the largest island summits on the planet relative to their surrounding land area/mass exist here. I was alone except for my best partners, Optimism and Enthusiasm.

Stay tuned for the complete story in the next Mountain Hardwear catalog...

Click here to see the rest of the photos on Flickr.com

Wade Fairley, a photographer, in the Absolute Zero Suit, worked on the epic nature series, Planet Earth. He recently shared with us these amazing photos from his Antarctic expedition.

Click here to see more photos of the climb on Flickr.com

Mt. Louis was first pointed out to me while driving down the highway, after returning from a day of skiing at Lake Louis. At a height of 2682 meters, the mountain is not significantly high, but it is truly a stunning and classic profile. All sides of the mountain are flanked with steep smooth faces. The East Face of Mt. Louis is particularly dramatic with the summit perched on top of 'the diamond', a wall so steep and blank that it sends shivers down your spine. After seeing it I immediately knew that I wanted to climb it.

When the alpine season started this summer in the Rockies, I partnered up with long-time friends Brandon Pullan and Danny O'Farrell for an attempt at Mt. Louis. Brandon had done his home work and excitement shone from his eyes as he traced his finger along a photo in the guidebook. It was up a brilliant looking line on the right-side of the diamond and except for the last 200 meters of ridge climbing to the summit it remained unclimbed. When Brandon asked if we wanted to give it a shot, and Danny and I both immediately agreed.

Click here to see a photo slide show on Youtube.com
Click here to see more photos on Flickr.com

By Ryan Riggs, MHW International

It never ceases to amaze me what people will say and do when a police spot light is pointed at them. In this case a ranger at Mt. Rainier National Park didn't take to kindly to vagrants sleeping in his parking lot, even if they were just trying to sleep as high as they could the night before climbing Rainier to acclimatize a bit. So, as I stood there with my cup of tea in one hand and the other shading my eyes, my buddies Brian and Darren quickly stashing air mattresses behind me, I realized I wasn't going to be able to talk Joe Ranger into fudging the rules a bit. I even thought about confessing to him that it had been less then two weeks since we did a quick trip up Mt. Baker and I had gotten myself sick, throwing up a few feet from the sign-in box, but I'm pretty sure he would have laughed me right out of the Paradise parking lot and called my mom.

We spent the night at Cougar Rock campground around 3000 ft level, getting no substantial benefit from the elevation. Throw in the fact that I spent the night in the back of my 4Runner (yes, I am the only native Oregonian that is afraid of critters), and it could be concluded that the first night was less then optimal.

Click here to see more photos from the climb

By Brett Cassidy, MHW Customer Service

It's 2:50 AM when I wake up on the asphalt between two white lines outlining a parking spot. The alarm on my wristwatch isn't set to go off until 3 AM, but the familiar jingling of 'biners, nuts, and cams wakes me up ten minutes early. I groan, roll over onto my side, flick on my headlamp and see Nathan rifling through the trunk of the car to sort gear. I reluctantly get out of the 3rd Dimension sleeping bag I borrowed from the warranty department and start eating a Clif Bar. With Nathan and I both crinkling wrappers and sorting gear, I hear Josh let out a groan, flick on his headlamp, and sit up in our parking spot. Yup, it's time to climb.

We get on the trail at 3:50 AM after getting dressed and sorting gear and food. Headlamps blazing, we power up the long uphill trail toward Temple Crag, one of the High Sierra's most impressive peaks. At 12,999 feet and a whole half mile wide, Temple Crag is entirely humbling, utterly impressive, and a tad intimidating. Of course, it's completely dark out and I don't know this yet, but I will soon learn. Today our sights are set on the Sunribbon Arete, a long steep arete shooting up Temple Crag's east side rated grade IV, 5.10a. With a steep 7 mile approach, 18 pitches of climbing, and a team of three, we know we're going to need all the daylight we can get to complete this mission car-to-car in a day as planned, which explains why we're out here at such an ungodly hour. After a couple hours of hiking, the sun comes up and the massiveness of Temple Crag reveals itself. As I eye our route I start grinning ear to ear. This climb is enormous. This climb is going to be sick.