Hardwear Sessions

The nice guys behind the Altitude Junkies, a guide service that specializes in Himalayan expeditions, sent us these photographs from a recent Everest trip. We thought they were quite nice, so we wanted to share them with you.

All photographs by Brad Jackson

Night falls over base camp, Everest. Tibetan Prayer flags flutter in the wind.
Photo by Brad Jackson.

Burgdorf, Switzerland, January 20, 2009

Ueli Steck finds himself in perfect physical conditions. For the past few weeks, the weather in the Alps has been beautiful and the conditions on the great Northfaces in the Alps have been great . After Ueli Steck's speed record on the Grandes Jorasses over the Colton-Macintyre route, it was very likely, that he was also going to try to establish a new speed record on the Matterhorn. Although in 2006 Ueli set up a new record on the difficult Bonatti route in 25 hours, this time he would try to break the record on the classic Schmid route on the Matterhorn Northface. The first ascent on the Matterhorn Northface was done by Franz and Toni Schmid in 1936. Ueli Steck has never climbed this route before. Therefore, Ueli faced the same challenges as during his speed ascent on the Grandes Jorasses.

By Cynthia Houng

In November, after 8 months or so of dry weather, California's storm season begins. These winter rains provide the bulk of California's water supply. Though the state tries to capture and retain as much of the winter rainfall for the coming year, we lose a good percentage of our rainwater as runoff.

There are 2 reasons why California's winter rains, and especially the first heavy rains, have trouble making it into our reservoirs and water tables: (1) California's prolonged dry season, which creates dry, compacted soils that struggle to absorb rainfall; (2) the state's increasing urbanization, and the hard surfaces that accompany urban sprawl, do a poor job of absorbing and holding onto rainwater. As a result, the rainfall does not recharge the water table. Instead, the rainwater heads straight for the ocean.

With California's increasing urbanization, runoff has become a major environmental problem. The Environmental Protection Agency ranks runoff among the top 3 threats to American watersheds. Runoff collects chemicals, heavy metals, and other pollutants, and delivers it to vulnerable aquatic ecosystems. It also enters the watershed with incredible speed and force, literally scouring away sandbars, wetlands, and estuaries.

Hard surfaces, such as roofs, roads, driveways, parking lots (and even lawns) encourage rainwater to run quickly, and in large volumes, into storm drains and out to sea. Unlike meadows, marshes, or woodlands, whose soft surfaces soak up the rainwater and slow it down, these hard, man-made surfaces amplify the water's speed and force. Runoff also causes erosion, washing away valuable topsoil, and in some cases, runoff can trigger mudslides or landslides.

Rain gardens allow gardeners to recreate the natural hydrological cycle on a small scale. These gardens, which are designed to help slow down runoff and sponge up rainwater, can also help improve local water quality, filter out pollutants, decrease erosion, and even help replenish the local water table.

By Will Meinen

"I think I'm getting heat stroke. Does anyone have anymore water?"

I looked at my thermometer again to confirm my half delusional state of mind; twenty-three degrees Celsius. As messed up as it was, I wasn't going to fight it. Rather, I was going to soak up the good rays of vitamin D and appreciated the once in a life time experience. I was half way up Forbidden Corner on Mt. Yamnuska, enjoying the warm sun, a stellar view, and the fine company of Brandon Pullan and Julia Niles.

Julia Niles enjoying some winter sun on Forbidden Corner

By Jon Bowermaster

GRYTVIKEN, South Georgia

In the whaling museum here the most fascinating thing to me - after the touch-me-feel-me penguin skin - are the trophies and sports uniforms worn by the different South Georgia whaling station teams which competed against each other in rugby, track and field, ski jumping and more during the heyday of whale killing here.

Grytviken was South Georgia's first whaling station/factory, set up by Norwegian explorer C.A. Larsen in 1904. Initially only blubber was taken and the carcass discarded resulting in beaches of bones along the coastline which I can still see lying in the shallows off what remains of its main dock. By 1912, seven whaling stations had been established and South Georgia became known as the southern capital of whaling.

That heyday was during the early 1900s, when a variety of whales (blue, fin, sei, humpback and southern right whales) were abundant in South Georgia's waters during the austral summers, feeding on the massive quantities of krill found on the edge of the island's continental shelf.

By the late 1920s such shore-based whaling factories on the island declined due the scarcity of whales around the island, followed by a boom in whaling on the high seas. The stations on South Georgia then became home base for repair, maintenance and storage. It was the uncontrolled whaling on the high seas followed - up to two hundred miles off shore - and led to significant reductions in populations of exploited whale species.

Whales were harpooned with an explosive grenade, inflated with air and marked with a flag, radar reflectors, and latterly radios. A catcher would then tow them to a factory ship or shore station. The whale was hauled to the flensing plan. The blubber was removed and boiled under pressure to extract the oil. Meat and bone were separated and boiled. The results were dried and ground down for stock food and fertilizer. Baleen whale oil was the basis of edible, pharmaceutical, cosmetic and chemical products. It was also an important source of glycerol to manufacture explosives.

The Natural Capital Project believes that we can -- and should -- put a price on nature.

Read Quest's accompanying Reporter's Notes

Doug Chabot, a Montrail athlete, received a 2009 Mugs Stump Award for an 2-person expedition to Kuk Sar II, a peak in the Pakistan Karakorum. Doug and his partner Bruce Miller will head to Pakistan in late summer. Here, Doug provides us with a preview of his plans:

By Doug Chabot

Pakistan Karakorum Expedition, August-September 2009

Last summer (2008), I was in northern Pakistan volunteering for Greg Mortenson of Central Asia Institute (CAI) with my wife Genevieve, CAI's International Program Manager. We spent 2 weeks in the Chapurson Valley which parallels the Afghanistan border. We stayed with locals who are also CAI employees and while there I started inquiring about the nearby climbing and past history with climbing expeditions. I confirmed that three expeditions have been up the Chapurson to explore and with many peaks 5,500m-6,100m being summited. An adjacent valley had never seen any exploration by climbers. When I inquired why, they said that the valley is dominated by Kuk Sar II and that its north face is "Impossible". That was music to my ears.

The locals are very familiar with the terrain since they regularly hunt Ibex in this area. Although they have no photos, their story is the same; a steep, icy face which is unclimbable. The rock in this region appears to be good, so I'm hopeful the face can be climbed relatively safely, all things considered.

By Will Meinen

After the third winter of efforts, it's finally done. The Jimmy Skid Rig has been climbed. I still can't believe it as I sit here and try to figure out how to sum it up for a 'blog'.

What is the Jimmy Skid Rig?

The name was born from the Hilti drill used on the route. With a fiberglass patch job holding the body together and a hundred foot extension cord running from the drill to the three motorcycle batteries duct taped together in the bottom of a haul bag, it was a sketchy setup at best, but it was all we could afford. After inspecting the setup, a friend laughed out loud and called Brandon and I a 'Jimmy Skid Rig' outfit, and with very little confidence he wished us luck on the mission. And with that the name stuck. We definitely weren't conventional mixed climbers, and our plan wasn't very polished. We were just a couple guys with a get 'er done sort of attitude.

The Jimmy Skid Rig was born early December two winters ago when Brandon Pullan and I negotiated the 'adventure-race course' that guards the base of the route. As we stood at the base of the route and looked up at the ice, we became obsessed with an idea. Our idea was to find a way to climb the overhanging mixed terrain to the daggers of frozen water that had dripped down the exposed ice-curtain that loomed above us.

The Jimmy Skid Rig

At the time, I didn't know how we would do it, or how long it would take, but we knew that, somehow, we were going to get 'er done. When you have an idea, or a dream that you believe in, it's important that you follow it through because dreams are the stuff that the good life is made of. We quickly returned with enough gear to climb the Trango Tower. Tents, stoves, static ropes, dynamic ropes, bolts, pins, beaks, power drill, ice tools, hammers, ascenders, cams, nuts, and a bottle of whiskey. After the first season of effort we reached a high point about half way up.

By Pat Deavoll

I had the first inkling something was wrong about seven years ago.

My knees and ankles started to hurt walking down the hard ice of the Hooker glacier, and I didn't want to jump crevasses, preferring to sit on my backside and slide. But this is what happens when you hit middle age, I convinced myself. Everyone's like this. Don't be a wimp!

Limping in the Garwhal, India

I continued climbing- two seasons in Alaska (2002 and 2003), a hard expedition in India in 2004 and expeditions to China/Tibet in 2005 and 2006. All with the aid of double doses of codeine. I realised the pain wasn't going to go away, but at least I could cover it up.

Then in the summer of '06/'07 I was walking out down the Hooker Glacier (I like the Hooker Glacier) on a hot day. My knees had me wincing and I knew something was going on with my right ankle. By the time I got home, the ankle was thick and swollen and I could hardly walk.

This afternoon, when I went to check my mailbox, I found an unexpected gift -- a plain brown paper envelope with a "Royal Mail" postmark on it. Inside, I found this video from Neil Gresham.

By Sean McDevitt, Mountain Hardwear Tent Developer

The idea of racing my mountain bike for 24 hours straight used to scare the hell out of me. The fact that going into my 4th 24 Solo I love it even more, scares me. They are mostly unsanctioned, un-televised races that barely get a blurb on the bike news websites. It is terribly expensive, time consuming and rarely involves prizes more than T shirts and chain lube samples. It is so hard that it takes a month to recover and even the most elite of riders can only do 2-3 races per year. Countless stories of courage, hope and tenacity are never told. Over the past few years I have seen so many racers pedal their hearts out in the middle of the night. Some race out of love of cycling, broken hearts or the competitive challenge to race for 24 hours.

24 hours straight!