Hardwear Sessions

Dylan Taylor sent us some photographs from Dawn Glanc's accident, and we thought we'd share them with you. Click here to see Dylan's photographs of Dawn.

Jon's back from the Antarctic, and blitzing the media!

Read the Washington Post's in-depth interview with Jon.

Watch Jon on ABC News.

View more photographs from Jon's trip, or visit Jon's website for maps and video.

Erik Weihenmayer, the first blind man to summit Everest, returned to the Himalayas with a team of six blind Tibetan teenagers. A team of filmmakers followed Erik and the teenagers, documenting the expedition. The filmmakers created Blindsight, an extraordinary documentary of the their journey up Lhaka Ri, a 23,000 ft. peak on the north side of Mt. Everest.

This month, Blindsight was released in Australian theaters. Sharon O'Neill, of the Australian Broadcasting Corporation interviewed Erik on February 7th, 2008.

Listen to the interview, or read the transcript.

View More Pictures of MHW's new Headquarters

By B. James Bottoms, Mountain Hardwear Director of Operations

On March 17, 2008 Mountain Hardwear is moving our headquarters to the Ford Assembly Plant in Richmond, California.

The Ford Plant is located directly on the San Francisco Bay and is connected to the San Francisco Bay Trail. The building is listed on the National Register of Historic Places and will host the visitor/education center and bookstore for the Rosie the Riveter/World War II Home Front National Historical Park.

The Ford Assembly Plant was designed by the renowned architect Albert Kahn in 1930. It is a quarter of a mile long and contains 560,000 square feet. Kahn included features that would be considered sustainable today such as the saw tooth roof design with large northern skylights which provide incredible natural light and hinged windows along the western and northern walls which draw in the cool bay breeze. The Ford Motor Company built automobiles in the plant from 1931 to 1955 except for the three years from 1942 to 1945 when the plant was converted to war-time production. The building is an icon of design and fortitude. To learn more about the building and its history, please visit Rosietheriveter.org's Ford Assembly Plant History page.

By re-appropriating some of open factory space, the original suite of managers' offices and the former product showroom, all of which had been practically abandoned for more than 25 years, we were able to design and build our space with a focus on sustainability.

By Dawn Glanc

I was climbing yesterday, Friday February 22, 2008, outside a village called Saint Christophe with some other guides. After completing the first pitch, I was at the belay, just standing there with my friend Lissa. Her husband, Adrian, was up one ledge above us. I was waiting for Dylan to come up so he could take photos of the second pitch. Adrian had just built his belay and then shouted and alarming "ICE!"

A piece of ice about the size of a small pillow came from above all of us, almost out of no where. It happened so fast. It first hit the ledge Adrian was on, then came right at me and Lissa. We both tried to duck out of the way but the ice smacked me in my left cheek and then left forearm.

Micah Dash will speak about his wild adventure in Indian Kashmir and the epic first ascent of the Shafat Fortress with Jonny Copp. The multimedia presentation also includes hard free-climbing in Indian Creek. Utah, and big wall free-climbing in Yosemite Valley.

Go see Micah -- use our online schedule to find a date near you.

More Photos.

More Pictures

Julia Niles and Andrew McLean bravely set off for a mid-winter MHW photoshoot. Andrew sent some great photographs and this short note:

The first day started off with very discouraging weather as it was flat, cloudy light and crusty snow down low. But, in the time it took us to make the first climb, the upper elevation clouds burned off and created a very cool lighting scenario with clouds on one side of the ridge and clear, sunny slopes on the other. We ended up on the summit of Mt. Superior which is one of the more classic peaks in the Wasatch, and much to my surprise, the skiing down the backside was excellent. I was expecting crusty, wind-jacked snow, but it was silky smooth old powder.

After skiing, we went down to Lone Star Taqueria, which is the Mexi-food place of choice for skiers and boarders. Once we got there, Julia all of a sudden goes, "Shit! I left that entire bag of samples in the parking lot!" We drove back to the Big Cottonwood Park & Ride, and there, half an hour later, was the bag of MHW samples sitting untouched right in the middle of the lot! Julia was psyched, to say the least.

The next day we ate more Mexi-food, cruised around downtown SLC and then went back up into Little Cottonwood Canyon. The weather service had issued a Winter Storm warning to start at 2:00pm and it arrived almost to the minute. We set up some tents near the LCC stream and it proceed to dump at a rate of about 2" per hour, so we also got some good bad weather photos.

More Pictures

By Dawn Glanc

February 15, 2008

After an easy flight and a short bus ride I arrived in La Grave, France on February 9. The purpose of the trip is to ski and climb the amazing terrain here in the La Grave area. I traveled here with my friend Dylan Taylor, who is a guide and a photographer. We plan to team up with some of the locals and a few American guides working here at the skiers lodge for our adventures. We have been here just under a week now. Every day has been filled with fun and exploration. Our week began with a day of skiing at La Meije. This is the local ski area. The entire area is high mountain, meaning only two small groomed piste runs exist. The total mountain has 7000 vertical feet of terrain to ski. We teamed up with a fellow American guide, Tim Connelly, for our day of skiing. Tim lead us down some amazing runs. This was a perfect way to work through the jet lag that Dylan and I were experiencing.

The next few days Dylan and I went ice climbing on the ice flows in the La Grave valley. The climbs are right in town, and have a very short approach. The ice is in great shape, so the climbs were amazing. The climbs were nice moderate multi-pitch ice. This was a great introduction to the local ice. We were even greeted by a type of mountain goat, known as a chamois, at the top one of the climbs. What a welcome, and what a sight to see.

Andrew decides to ski without a helmet. Watch the results.

View More Photographs from Janet and Freddie's trip to Patagonia.

By Janet Bergman

I feed out another arm length of rope to Zach and a smile comes across my face. I'd momentarily imagined standing on the diving board summit of Mermoz. Realizing the prematurity of the thought (I was sitting at a belay only a few hundred feet up the wall), I pushed it away before the vision in my mind's eye was clear.

'Tranquilo' is not the word I often associate with climbing here in Patagonia. I spent an entire season here injured once, cloaked in fear and anxiety yet wondering why I wasn't enjoying myself. Then there were the many predawn approaches that revealed wind and ominous clouds over the ice cap as we got started climbing. Not to mention the week of perfect weather Kirsten was sick for. Icy rock; windy conditions; parties already on the route...few alpine climbs truly fall into place seemingly effortlessly.

Back in town after Kirsten departed for home, I ran into Zach, who was having a similarly trying season but had extended his ticket in hopes of one last chance to pull things together. As if on cue, a good weather forecast came.

This morning, we received an announcement from Ueli's webmaster:

New speed record through the Heckmair Route in the Eiger North face in: 2 hours, 47 minutes, 33 seconds.

Again Ueli Steck sets up a new speed record in the Eiger North face.

Yesterday, on Wednesday February 13, 2008, the 31 years old Swiss alpinist Ueli Steck climbed once more the Eiger North face. After his record set up only last year climbing the classic Heckmair Route, he wanted to go for the record once more.

Ueli Steck: "I was sure that I could be a bit faster than last year. At the moment I am preparing my next expedition, which will start soon. My training is moving on perfectly. I worked a lot on my endurance, which I could improve severely.

"Also I changed my strategy. When I set up the new record last year, I belayed myself 3 times with 15 meters of rope. Yesterday I made it without belaying at all. I just used a rope loop, which allowed me to hook on occasionally. All the equipment was about 3 kg lighter than during my speed record of 2007. Further, I reduced my body weight up to 5 kg. All in all I was about 8 kg lighter yesterday than I was last year.

"There was plenty of snow in the lower part of the Eiger north face, which cost me a lot of energy. On the other hand I found great conditions from the "Schwieriger Riss" on. The technical very demanding passages were very dry and I was able to climb without gloves.

In the end I set up a new personal best in 2 hours, 47 minutes and 33 seconds. Luckily I had two friends, which can confirm this performance. They observed me from the foot of the Eiger north face and they confirmed my fast time, once I reached the summit.

"The legendary Car Lewis said once, that we should seek the competition with oneself. This time I won this competition with myself."

Ueli Steck is still to see on his tour with his slide show. Those lucky readers who just happen to be in Europe can catch Ueli on his tour. More information on: www.explora.ch or www.uelisteck.ch

Hey my fellow "Nutheads"!

There are many good reasons why not to go on a climbing trip to Patagonia: the plane ticket's expensive, getting time off from work is hard, the weather is terrible, the weather is abysmal, the weather, the weather...

Well, the last few weeks have been a blur of non-stop action as a rare spell of high pressure parked itself directly over the Patagonian icecap. This is my forth consecutive season visiting the Fitzroy massif and there have been more blue-bird days this year then in the previous three seasons combined. Janet Bergman, Kirsten Kremer, Dana "Mad Dog" Drummond and I trashed ourselves raw on the coarse granite of the range- I have to say this is the first time that my body and psyche has given out before the weather.

Below you can read the blow by blow account of Maddog's and my activities. We are currently resting up in town and it seems that the weather pattern has returned to the typical cycle of wind and rain. But everywhere in the bars, hostels, and campgrounds, I see smiling, sunburned faces and gobied hands. Let the 2008 season be a lesson to us all: you never know when the alpine weather gods will smile down you. So buy that ticket and go!

Freddie Wilkinson

*****

Dana "Mad Dog" Drummond and I hit the soon-to-be-paved streets of Chalten on January 16th. With a promising forecast, we quickly repacked and hiked in the next day to the Piedras Negras bivy on the north side of the Fitzroy massif. Following a tip from Colin Haley, we decided to try a new line on the west face of Guillamet that Colin had attempted the week before. After a false start, we finally got going on the right line at 11 AM. The climb went in eleven pitches, with a touch of 5.11 and a few aid moves around iced up cracks. The highlight of the ascent was undoubtedly the final two pitches, where Dana navigated us up the Fissure Mad Dog, a burly offwidth and squeeze chimney system that topped out only fifteen meters south of Guillamet's true summit. On the pitch above Colin's high point, we found a single European-style piton with some sun bleached bail tat tied to it. On the same pitch I noticed a German candy bar rapper, expiration date 1993, wedged into a crack. Perhaps we had joined with Padrijo, the only established route on the face (which was indeed established in 1993) -- Although the topo and photo on climbinginpatagonia.freeservers.com clearly shows Padrijo taking a crack system right of our line. A more likely scenario, given Padrijo's traversing nature is that the team rappelled down our corner system. The last possibility, though the resident experts in Chalten have no record of it, is that this line had received an undocumented ascent or attempt. Anyhow, we've named the line The Lost Men (5.11a, A0, 550 meters) in honor of these unknown soldiers. Perhaps someone out there will read this report and can shed light on the murky historical record.

The weather kept getting better - so Maddog and I packed for the main attraction: Fitzroy, the North Face of course. Our vague plan was to investigate new terrain on near Tehuelche. We left our high camp at 3AM, hoofed it over Paso Quadrado, and dropped down to the base of the face. In the predawn light, we failed to see any compelling lines on the lower face, and ended up following the starting pitches of Theleuche to the Grand Hotel ledge. From here, we followed a chimney system up the prominent headwall right of Tehuelche. This portion of the climb was dripping wet and offered 5.10 adventure climbing at its finest -- with a surprise M5 chockstone pitch at the top. We established about ten new pitches, before joining with the Affanasief Ridge a little before dark. We brewed up, broke out our single sleeping bag and spooned until dawn, then scrambled the final few hundred meters to the summit of Fitzroy, arriving on top at 9:30 AM. Our climb, The Hoser Chimney (5.10 A1 M5), should be considered a minor variation rather than any sort of major new route. Still, we found it remarkable that such a long and complex face could be climbed at such a modest grade. After rappelling Tehuelche in the blistering afternoon sun, we made it back to Piedras Negras at dark. Several days later, Max Hasson and Crystal Davis established another line in the same neighborhood. With an independent start and harder, better climbing, I think their effort produced the finer line.

About two weeks ago, I found this beautiful photograph of a moonlit Trango 4 in my inbox. In his message, Anders wrote that he lives and works in Sweden, and he often kayaks and camps with MHW equipment. Intrigued, I emailed Anders Holmberg, the photographer, and asked him to write a few lines.

Anders obliged, and sent us the following photographs and trip report.

View Anders's Photographs.

By Anders Holmberg

20 - 21 October, 2007

My wife Annica, some friends, and myself left the small town of Grebbestad on the Swedish Westcoast late morning, Saturday October 20, 2007. After a lunch break on another isolated island, we arrived at 'Stora Maakholmen', pos. Lat N 58 deg 38.6 min, Long E 011 deg 12.4 min, just in time to pitch our tents before it went dark.

It was a beautiful evening and night. Gathered around the fire, we cooked a variety of food, ranging between deer, fresh lobster and freeze dried. Although we had a campfire, most of us cook on the Swedish Trangia Camping stove, equipped with gas burners. We had filet of deer (I hunt...), salad and a glass (or was it two?) of a good California red wine. After that, rhum-testing (!) and storytelling until late.

View More Photographs from Will's Ski Trip to Fernie, BC

By William Meinen

The weather forecast is calling for snow, snow, and more snow. I place my skis at the back door. I pack the rest of my ski gear into my duffle and set the alarm for 5am. I try to go to bed early but can't get to sleep because I'm too excited. It's better than Christmas. I finally fall asleep with visions of powder turns and face-shots dancing through my head.

The alarm goes off in the morning. I wipe my eyes, crawl out of bed, and slam a cup of black coffee. I turn the key and the four cylinders in my Toyota slowly sputter to life. The roads are covered in snow so I take my time. The sign on the road says it's another 75km to Fernie, British Columbia. Almost there.

I'm floating on a cloud of powder. The snow gently sweeps around me and over me. A smile spreads across my face and I'm yipping and howling in glee. I can hear the reply come from my fellow powder lovers scattered amongst the trees, as we all swish our way through the glades. "Yip Yip!" and "Yeehaw!"

Before long my legs have become Jello and sun begins to set. The day is already over.

I hear more snow is on the way so I book a room at the local hostel. I wolf down a pizza and share a bottle of wine with Katie. That night I sleep like a baby. When I wake up the next morning almost a foot of fresh powder has fallen.

Katie and I head for Castle Mountain, Alberta and ski fresh tracks all day. Everyone I meet is covered in snow and has got a goofy smile on their face. Yep. They've found the good stuff too. I'm not worried because there is enough to go around.

Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow.

This morning, we found this note from our friend Will, and we thought we'd share it:

Another Friday morning rolls around and another Friday night is just around the corner. Almost time for some celebratory beers! We've all survived another week!

Here's to a good weekend!

Will Meinen

Andrew McLean sent us this video of Dylan Freed skiing the Lisa Falls Couloir in LCC, UT. Enjoy!

View Andrew's Photos from Lisa Falls.

By Andrew McLean

Skiing huge couloirs is one of my all-time favorite activities. There is just something about standing at the top of a 3,500' line and seeing it stretch beneath your tips all the way to the valley floor in one continuous blaze of glory. If I had my way, I'd ski couloirs every day, but part of the allure of them is that you have to get them in the right conditions for safety and quality concerns.

In general, it is best to hike up a couloir before you ski it. This is a double-edged sword as it gives you a chance to assess the snow stability and look for ice, but it also means that you are going to be spending a few hours climbing directly up an avalanche path. Because of this, timing is critical when it comes to skiing the Big Guns.

From an avalanche safety standpoint, the best time to ski a big couloir is when it is frozen solid, as often happens in the spring. The downside of this is that frozen couloirs can be sketchy to ski and often have death-cookies (frozen chunks of snow) welded into them that don't make for fun turns. It's a fine line to finding couloirs that are safe enough to ski, yet also enjoyable at the same time.

One trick to increase your success ratio is to keep a hit-list of couloirs you want to ski. Different aspects (north, south, east & west) all have different conditions at different times. The beauty of a hit-list is that you can first decide which aspect will be safest (and perhaps have the best skiing) and then pick a likely candidate from your list. After a five year couloir skiing spree, I had compiled a big enough hit list that it eventually turned into a guidebook: The Chuting Gallery - A Guide to Steep Skiing in the Wasatch Mountains.

One of the harder (and thus most satisfying) conditions to nail is a south facing couloir in deep powder. South facing lines are tough as the sun quickly turns the snow to mush, yet if you get after them too soon, the new snow may not have had enough time to safely settle out. Because of this, it takes very special conditions such as perfectly light, bonded snow or a storm followed by days of cold temperatures and cloud cover, but no wind or additional snow. These conditions are hard to come by and seldom coincide with a daily work schedule which means skiing big south facing lines in deep powder is a true rarity.

Another factor which greatly increases your odds is to have a motivated partner. I lucked out last Tuesday when my friend Dylan Freed suggested we give the great grandmother of all south facing chutes in the Wasatch, Lisa Falls Couloir, a look. Lisa Falls is one of the harder lines to reach and also one of the largest couloirs in the Wasatch, with 5,000' of vertical drop.It had been snowing for the previous few days, which made me a bit nervous.

Lisa Falls is a monster funnel and skiers are exposed to avalanches at almost all times while in it. To access the snowpack, we toured up the backside and skied a warm-up on a run named "Bonkers" before wrapping around to the main attraction. Along the way, we looked for any signs of collapsing, cracking or natural avalanches. Once we got to the ridgeline, we were able to look down into Lisa Falls and drop a few cornices on the south facing slopes to see if the snow below would react. So far, so good.

View More Photographs from Cactus Country on Flickr.

By Nathan Friedman

Arizona.

Home to hundreds of species of cacti, thousands of miles of sandy desert, and a seemingly endless list of venomous creatures.

Not exactly the prime location for a powder hungry skier.

Or is it?

February in the Valley of the Sun has a pleasant temperature, allowing the baggage handlers in Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport to wear shorts and t-shirts as they unload your baggage. They may exchange quick glances at each other as they unload your ski bag, but will quickly forget among the hundreds of golf clubs carriers.

Point yourself north and take the I-17 out of urban sprawl and the allure of commercialized fast food. The drive will wind through the hills outside of Phoenix, through planned communities and sprawled suburbs on the outskirts of the 5th largest city in the US. As you push further north, the Saguaro and Cholla begin to spread apart, the southwest themed overpasses fade into the rear view mirror, and scrub brush begins to take over. The change is subtle at first, but if you push onward, the terrain begins to change more rapidly with each passing mile.

As you pass the one hour mark, the rate of ascent begins to increase, and you'll soon forget that you began the journey around 1000 feet above sea level. The signs begin to tick by.

3000 feet...

4000 feet...

5000 feet...

6000 feet...

The cacti have turned to gnarled Juniper trees, followed closely by a transition to alpine forests of Aspen and Ponderosa Pine. The air takes on a chill, and you begin to realize that the heater dial had been slowly inching further from the blue, and is well into the red by this point.

Snow soon appears on the side of the road. As you round a bend in the highway, the Ponderosa's eventually part to reveal a view of the San Francisco Peaks and you wonder "Am I still in Arizona?". As if transplanted from somewhere 300 miles northeast, the peaks (as they're called locally) spring out of the surrounding Mogollon plateau to top out at an impressive 12,600 feet above sea level. In February, they are typically covered with a layer of snow, beckoning to those who crave backcountry adventure.

By Jon Bowermaster

February 1, 2008--After nearly two-and-a-half weeks of beautiful, blue-sky weather - very unusual in Antarctica -- we finally paid a price with seven straight days of rain, which is also very unusual here.

The summertime wetness dampened our efforts and our mood. We camped beneath Sharp Peak in the Fish Islands, hoping to climb its 4,000-foot peak, but were thwarted by deep, slushy snow. Our final days in the kayaks were soggy, cold. The wildlife, particularly the month-old penguin chicks we saw at virtually every stop, were at great risk too, thanks to the rain. Covered only by downy fur, the rain soaked them through; if - or when - the weather snapped back to cold many of them would freeze and die.

During one 24-hour period we saw only torrential downpour, which every scientist we met along our route said, was the most they'd ever seen. While scientific accounts continue to document the changing climate down south, which is melting glaciers and decreasing amount of ice coverage, our anecdotal experience is that summertime in Antarctica is becoming something new: Warmer and wetter.

The other thing I saw more of in January than ever before in my experience along the Peninsula is a relatively new breed of Antarctic biped: Humans. Each year the number of tourists visiting Antarctica grows; this year it's anticipated 40,000 will visit by cruise boats ranging in size from 100 passengers to monstrous, 3,000-passenger vessels with swimming pools and casinos. Voluntary guidelines limit the number of people who can actually put feet on Antarctic ice, which is a good thing. The bigger risk is that one of these big boats will have an accident, sink and throw thousands of passengers into the cold Southern Ocean. The possibility of that happening in the next few years is no longer an if, but a when.

* * *

After 30 days exploring the Peninsula we are obligated to head back north, towards the southernmost tip of Chile. The crossing of the notorious Drake Passage takes more than four days of continuous sailing through some of the roughest seas on the planet. By day four it seems like the ride will never end; each of us - either out loud or to ourselves - has sworn never to step on a sailboat again. Even when you feel well enough to stand and move from bunk to pilothouse to saloon, it takes every effort to physically manage the walk up the short set of stairs and down the next without being thrown violently across the ship. Generally, once that move has been achieved the only thing to do ... is lie down again, wherever you find yourself.

by Victor Ichioka

There is nothing quite like eating fresh produce out of a home garden. You can pick crops at the peak of their readiness and eat them with the confidence of knowing their exact growing history; you get the possibility of both culinary and health benefits. For people who are fortunate enough to live in temperate zones like the San Francisco Bay Area, these pleasures can be extended into the winter months.

While you can't expect bushels of tomatoes and corn during the winter, there are a surprising number of crops that can be grown at this time. The first important group is leafy greens, both for the salad bowl and steamer/wok. Crops like lettuce, endive, arugula, radicchio, mustard, kale, chard, collard greens, bok choy, and spinach all do fine in a winter garden. A second important group is root vegetables - carrots, beets, parsnips, turnips, and the like. Other possible crops include snap peas, and garlic. This last doesn't get harvested until it warms up a bit, typically mid spring.

Another category for winter growing is a cover crop. For those areas in your garden that grow high-nutrient-demand plants during the regular season, like tomatoes or potatoes, it's a good idea to plant something in the off season that will add nutrients back into the soil. Typically a cover crop will be from the legume family, plants that grab nitrogen from the atmosphere and incorporate it into their tissues. I grow both fava beans and a commercial mix containing peas, vetch, and a bunch of other nitrogen-fixing species. The idea is to raise the plants until just before they make seed and then dig them into the soil.

A key to enjoying a steady food supply is to plant in stages. I start my plants from seed, and I try to have a set of seedlings ready to put in the ground every month. That means beginning in the fall and continuing diligently through the seasons. While plants grow more slowly in the winter, once you get your successive planting schedule established, you'll be able to enjoy a steady parade of fresh food to your table.

For crops that will thrive in your area, check with a local nursery or gardening club. Happy growing and happy eating.

By Cynthia Houng

This fall, the chinook salmon run dried up.

Residents of the San Francisco Bay Area have come to associate fall with the annual chinook salmon run. The fish make their way up the Sacramento and San Joaquin Rivers, back to their spawning grounds, providing both humans and animals with rich, satisfying protein.

At their peak, the chinook numbered in the hundreds of thousands. Up to 800,000 fish have been recorded by fishery officials. This year, some 90,000 salmon made the trip upstream. Most years, 250,000 salmon find their way back to their spawning grounds.

Most readers know the chinook as the "king" salmon. The salmon fishing season typically opens in April or May. During that time, the fish graces many Bay Area tables. Many noted Bay Area restaurants, including Berkeley's Chez Panisse, favor the king for its silky flesh and delicate flavor. This year, however, the Pacific Fishery Management Council, which regulates West Coast fisheries, will set limits on the 2008 salmon season, driving up prices. Many fishermen fear for their livelihoods, for the salmon runs represent their bread-and-butter.