Hardwear Sessions

By Ed Douglas, The Observer

Straight up. Just add ice! Ed Douglas goes the wrong way up an Alpine waterfall with a mountain guide called Mr Cool.

Kenton Cool ice climbing near Chamonix. Photo by PR.

Kenton Cool is fooling around for the camera, hoisting up imaginary breasts and pouting. "How's this?" I take a step back to fit him in the frame. And because we're on a narrow snow-covered ledge 50 or 60ft above the ground, I do this carefully. Best not to trip up. Continue reading the Guardian article on www.guardian.co.uk. Click here to view Kenton Cool's Mountain Hardwear Athlete Profile.

By Pat Deavoll, Mountain Hardwear Athlete

Organising this expedition, a recipient of the Mountain Hardwear Expedition Grant, has been an organic process- more so than any other trip I've put together. The problem seems to be the country! Pakistan is in the news more often than some climbers feel comfortable with; that plus the fact the New Zealand Batura Glacier Expedition intends to travel, and climb, within a stones throw of the Afghan border.

Kampire Dior Photo by Bruce Norman

Having climbed in Pakistan in 2007 and 2008, I'm not that worried. I figure what I'm there to do, climb a 7000m peak, puts me at greater risk than being caught up in any Al Quaeda activity. I figure if we make our stay in Islamabad short and keep our heads down travelling through Swat (on the way up the Karakoram Highway) once we get to liberal, tourist-orientated Hunza, we'll be fine. And no self-respecting member of the Taliban is going to want to trek 65km up the Batura Glacier to check us out.

But six weeks out from leaving New Zealand, two of the team are wavering, un-nerved by the latest bombing that killed 19 people at a popular Islamabad mosque last weekend. And a rumour has come through from our outfitter that some parts of the NW may be put off limits to climbers, including the Upper Batura Glacier. Choose another objective, they say.

What to do?

Erik Weihenmayer 's memoir, Touch the Top of the World, was made into a feature film and recently released on DVD. For an indepth look at the film go to A&ETV.

Blindsight follows six Tibetan teenagers who set out to climb the 23,000 foot Lhakpa Ri on the north side of Mount Everest. A dangerous journey soon becomes a seemingly impossible challenge made all the more remarkable by the fact that the teenagers are blind.

"Just because you lose your sight, doesn't mean you lose your vision."
- Blind climber Erik Weihenmayer

Read Erik Weihenmayer 's Athlete bio on MountainHardwear.com

By Jon Bowermaster, Mountain Hardwear Adventure Journalist

The last time I was in the island nation of the Maldives - nearly 400,000 people scattered among 1,200 tiny islands running south for a thousand miles off the tips of Sri Lanka and India - the place was on edge. It was early in 2005 and the tsunami waves had rushed over the islands just a few weeks before. Fortunately for the Maldives a combination of deep channels running between islands and the sizable coral reefs that surround many of them prevented the giant wave from sweeping its entire population into the sea. Only about 100 people were killed, far fewer than drowned on the coast of Somalia hundreds of miles further west.

Photo Credit: Jon Bowermaster

I came to report on the post-tsunami impacts for the New York Times and as I wandered among the homes badly cracked by the wave and saw decades-old garbage dumps swept into the sea by waters that rushed over the islands - which rise less than six feet above sea level - everyone was talking about the possibility of another such incident. "What can we do to prevent the next wave from taking us all," was the collective concern. "What if there is a second wave coming?"

Photo Credit: Jon Bowermaster

Today I'm back for a couple weeks of scouting - we'll shoot a documentary film here later in the year - and the subject has changed. No one is talking about tsunami waves, but everyone is talking about rising sea levels. Both are obviously legitimate concerns in a place where all of life lives just a couple feet above the sea. Talk is heightened by a variety of recent reports that sea level rise around the globe is now anticipated to come faster, reach higher ... and the fact that the Maldives new president, Mohamed Nasheen, is talking louder than any elected official in the world about the need to do anything we can to slow the seas from rising. He obviously has a vested interest.

CNN.com follows climber Ben Clark, a Mountain Hardwear Athlete, and friends on their adventure across the globe to ski down the Himalayas. CNN interviews will be posted to the blog at www.skithehimalayas.com.

By Marc Hoffmeister, Team Leader, Operation Denali

Sponsorship through Mountain Hardwear's Expedition Sponsorship Program is a dream come true for a group of guys who didn't think climbing Denali was even possible a few years ago. The mission of Operation Denali is to enable four warriors wounded in the Global War on Terror to overcome our devastating combat injuries and successfully summit 20,320 ft Denali, the highest mountain in North America. The climb symbolizes the strength of our Nation and those who defend it. Specific details about the climb are online at VeteransCoalition.org.

I've always loved the outdoors. I used to spend all of my free time climbing in the back country or dreaming about climbing the big peaks. I stopped dreaming the day the enemy got lucky and I earned a purple heart. In 2007, while conducting combat operations in Iraq, a roadside bomb ripped through my HMMWV. The explosively formed penetrator tore through all of us in the truck. We survived because the rest of my men did everything right, but I lost effective use of my left arm and hand to my injuries. Despite our survival, life has changed for us all, in both mind and body. We became casualties of war. I bear this title proudly. I have no regrets and I have no anger at the enemy or frustration with the war. I know we've made a difference and I accept my sacrifices.

Marc Hoffmeister earned a Purple Heart.
Photo Courtesy of Marc Hoffmeister

Bridal Veil Falls is the highest cascade waterfall in Colorado with water falling 365 feet. For the first time in decades, the falls opened this winter for expert only ice climbing this winter. Mountain Hardwear athlete, Ben Clark couldn't be stopped from making the climb. Check it out on Plumtv.com.

View more Mountain Hardwear athlete videos here.

By Dawn Glanc

My ice-climbing season in Colorado was just about over for the year. The ice in Ouray had begun to melt. The days were growing longer and the daytime temperatures continually soared well above freezing. The ice was starting to fall down or become very sun affected and turning to a snow cone. I however, was not ready to have my season end. So, I set my sights to far off lands that were still frozen. I looked toward Norway.

Rjukan Ice Climbing

I connected with good friends who live in Oslo. Seth Hobby and Maren Bistrup welcomed me to come over and climb. Seth said the conditions were great and that he would have two weeks time to climb with me. He also mentioned that he had a sweet four wheel drive van, so that I would not have to rent a car. It all seemed to fall into place naturally. I bought a cheap ticket and flew over to the frozen lands a week later. The trip quickly came together, with all the elements of a great trip in line. I was more than elated to go and explore and have a crazy Norwegian adventure.

When I arrived In Oslo, the weather was grey and cloudy. Naturally I wanted a bluebird forecast, but the cold weather and overcast skies were much more conducive for our ice climbing objectives. I spent one night in Oslo at Seth and Maren's apartment to settle in, and to recover from the long hours of travel. The following morning after a proper Norwegian breakfast, Seth and I made our game plan for the days to come.

By Micah Dash

When the R.P.G. rocket impacted Captain D.J. Skelton while on combat operations in Fallujah the farthest thing from his mind was climbing. But for D.J., and many of us, climbing is in our blood. With his glass eye, titanium arm, and numerous scars across his body he modifies equipment and techniques to climb both ice and rock. Since our first meeting in the Red River Gorge of Kentucky nearly two years ago D.J. has become a regular climbing partner of mine. He along with Timmy O Neil created Paradox sports.

Paradox Sports was created with a common desire to integrate the physically disabled into the outdoor community by providing inspiration, opportunities, and the adaptive equipment needed to participate in human-powered outdoor sports. " The common bond of loving the outdoors and wanting to share it with others, regardless of physical limitations, is what brought them together." Says executive director Malcom Daily.

Climb into Mountain Hardwear's Virtual World!

The thrill of expeditions is now online! Mountain Hardwear invites you to explore our new 3D virtual world where mountain adventures come alive. Join a community of athletes and enthusiasts - where we gather to celebrate what we all love - the drive to the summit. The Expedition Republic offers:

	A Giant Gear Giveaway Expedition videos Downloadable content An entire social network focused on expeditions and mountaineering
Connect with other climbers and explore the Expedition Republic.

By Freddie Wilkinson. View his profile on MountainHardwear.com.

When it comes to documenting alpine climbs, I am no Ken Burns. Most of the time I'm too tired, too scared, too uncomfortable, or I'm just having way too much fun to worry about recording it for posterity. Nevertheless, thanks to modern technology, even the most basic point- and-shoots can take short video clips. Sometimes, its just too easy not to turn on my Canon SD 800 and press play. So, here are a few clips from the archives -- nothing smooth or polished, just raw reality, as funny or stupid, inspiring or embarrassing as it seems. Enjoy!

El Sacraficio Del Raton, Cerro Poincinot, Patagonia:
This shot was taken during the first ascent of a route I climbed on the South Face of Poincinot with Dave Sharratt in January 2007. The route took two days; we bivied with no stove or sleeping bag on a small ledge two-thirds up the face. Note the changes in my demeanor: in the first video I am psyched; in the second video, taken right before we were benighted, I'm a bit apprehensive; and in the third video, taken on the descent after we summited, I'm just plain worked. You may notice that through it all, "the Monster" keeps his cool.

Freddie Wilkinson and Dave Sharratt psyched to be climbing
the South Face of Poincino.

By Kenton Cool, IFMGA Mountain Guide. View his profile on MountainHardwear.com.

Neil Brodie at the Stollenloch window on the Eiger, the scene
of much history. Photo by Kenton Cool

It was planned for a while but things in the mountains are never that easy. As Neil and I drove to the Eiger on Thursday we weren't too hopeful about climbing the N Face for the BBC. The crew all met in the eve and we travelled on the train to Kleine Schidegg and a hotel that simply oozed history....its where Clint Eastwood stayed while filming the Eiger Sanction. All day Friday its snowed and we didn't even see the face, not great for climbing.

By Dawn Glanc, Check out her profile on MountainHardwear.com

Years ago, a friend gave me a guidebook for Colorado ice climbing. I accepted the gift, but viewed it at the time as a coffee table book. This friend marked the page for Bridal Veil Falls and said, "This is the one you should climb". I smiled and agreed with an unconvincing "sure." The book sat for years on the shelf. Every now and again during the Black Hills ice season, I would look at that guide book and day dream about bigger days and gnarly climbs like Bridal Veil Falls.

Dawn climbing Bridal Veil, one of the most difficult ice climbs in Colorado.
Photo Courtesy of Dawn Glanc

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!

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 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.

By Mike Libecki

"With full rage and fury the tent exploded and ripped in two, tent poles flailed like slashing swords, our tent had transformed into a savage monster. We dove out of the tent-beast and watched it thrashing and swinging its broken aluminum poles and nylon limbs."

I have a love-hate relationship with gravity, mostly love, of course. Gravity is my friend as well as my foe, mostly friend, of course. Without both the good and bad, negative and positive, a beautiful, healthy relationship is just not possible. Without the possibility of being blown off a huge rock-wall by hurricane-force winds and falling thousands of feet playing off the goal of standing on a distant virgin summit (and celebrating with a nude dance wearing the current year's Chinese Zodiac mask), the challenges of big-wall climbing would not lure me like a dog in heat.

This yin-yang relationship has gone on for fifteen years now, this pairing of man and stone, this obsession for big-wall first ascents, this romance enriched by gravity. On five different expeditions to East Greenland in the last 10 years, my relationship with gravity has grown like a high school crush that turns into marriage.

Greenland reminds me of a fantasyland right out of my five-year-old daughter's princess-and-dragon books. There are the wonders of whales, polar bears, foxes, and seals, endless wild flowers every color of the rainbow (many edible), traditional hunting and fishing with the local Inuit people, and magical boat rides in harsh, ice-laden seas, with the glorious bonus of 24-hour sunlight reflecting off glassy, bluish-white icebergs of every shape and size.

When not on a solo expedition, I invite only my best friends and partners. We share in the mystery, live in the "now," and create memories together that will never leave the warehouses of our minds. My closest and most trustworthy climbing partner is Josh Helling. From early training days on El Cap through suffering ascents on Baffin Island and in Antarctica, our partnership has grown into a bond as solid as the granite we hang from. We have an unspoken, shared focus on safety, respect, experience, and the conviction that success means coming home alive; standing on the summit is icing on the cake. A climbing partnership is one of the most important relationships in life. It is handing over your heart and breath, your fate and future, the chance you will get see your family and friends again.

Utah-New York-Iceland-Tasiilaq, East Greenland. Before we left I arranged for a 22-foot arctic fishing boat--wrapped with an extra 30 millimeters of fiberglass for unexpected sea-ice collisions--to take us 230 miles through a psychedelic sea maze of giant electric blue icebergs and white geometric plates of frozen ocean. As we sailed south down the coast of the ice-capped continent, icebergs bobbing slowly up and down in the rolling sea swells punctuated the aqua-blue-bleeding-into-copper horizon. Time, water, and sun carve these ice masterpieces into beautiful abstract sculptures, some the size of cars, other as big as cruise ships. At times we disappeared into thick fog and, surrounded by tingling mist, we would find ourselves looking up at giant, striped arching ribbons across the sky, mixed with silver, gray, and white-metallic that formed ghost-rainbows.

Ghost rainbow and sea ice

By Jon Bowermaster

Ernest Shackleton had an intimate relationship with South Georgia. He stopped here for a month in 1914 before sailing the "Endurance" to its crushing fate in Antarctica; a year and a half later with five others he sailed the gerry-rigged lifeboat "James Caird" 800 miles across the Scotia Sea to King Haarkon Bay, arriving on May 9, 1916; and in 1922 he returned, died and is buried here.

On a warm and sun-filled morning we land at Fortuna Bay, to repeat the last chunk of Shackleton's legendary and unprecedented climb across South Georgia. A steep and muddy tussock hill leads to fields of broken slate, which climb gradually to 3,000 feet. The higher we get, the more stunning the landscape grows: tall, spiky, far off peaks covered in snow, clear mountain ponds, tufts of soft moss scattered among the shattered scree, waterfalls tumbling off nearby walls.

Photo by Fiona Stewart

It was the whalers of South Georgia who first warned Shackleton that his route to the northern edge of the Antarctic continent was likely to be barred by unusually heavy concentrations of ice that had arrived the year he sailed for the Weddell Sea in December. He went anyway; we don't know what he was thinking when he left South Georgia then nor what exactly when he thought when returned via the "James Caird." In retrospect would he think it had been a mistake to take the "Endurance" down that season?

By Jon Bowermaster

Six a.m. and the sea is clouded by a morning mist, making the always mysterious-looking Elephant Island appear evermore ... mysterious. Its sharp rocky peaks climb out of the Southern Ocean in inverted Vs; the tide is high, washing out the few shallow beaches that ring it. Just off Point Wild - named for Frank Wild, Ernest Shackleton's right hand man - penguins feed near the surface of the gray sea and a solitary Weddell seal curls up in the rocks. Just around the point we watch a leopard seal rip a penguin to bits for breakfast, flopping it around on the surface like a rag doll.

Point Wild, Elephant Island, Photo by Fiona Stewart

I wonder how Elephant Island would have fared historically if this weren't the very beach where Shackleton and the twenty two men from his crushed "Endurance" had pulled and sailed to back in 1916. It is impossible to land on the beach this morning, due to the high tide, but I have been here before. Even when the seas are calm and the tide low it is a narrow, rocky, inhospitable place. That they managed to sail their trio of tiny lifeboats here, to the far eastern end of the South Shetland Islands, at all is a miracle. That they survived for many months on this thin sliver of rock is testament to ... well ... I'm not sure what exactly. Fortitude? Patience? Belief in myriad higher powers?

Minus the Shackleton quotient, I doubt many around the world would have ever heard of this rocky lump. But today it holds a historical context far larger than its minute circumference. Bobbing in the rough seas just offshore, I can make out the monument built by the Chileans who sailed to the rescue aboard the "Yelcho" to rescue Shackleton's men.

By Jon Bowermaster

Leopard Seal

We spent New Year's in the appropriately named Danger Islands (Darwin, Beagle & Heroina), the easternmost point on the Antarctic Peninsula. Wild and windy despite the blue sky, we attempted to land on Heroina but were thwarted by surf and the 600,000 nesting penguins who call it home. Just offshore we cruised through beautifully sculpted icebergs, resting spots for both penguins and birds as well as predators as well, especially the big, lounging leopard seals. In the heart of the Weddell Sea, in the midst of the Erebus and Terror Gulf, all around are huge icebergs broken off from the Larsen Ice Shelf. These are not soft, cuddly bergs but the big, tough, ship-sinking variety broken off the Larsen due to a decade of warming temperatures here along the Peninsula.

By Jon Bowermaster

Hello from - Antarctica! I'm back for nearly two months and as always when it comes to the seventh continent, every day is guaranteed to be completely new and different. I've already spent several days along the towering glaciers that line the Peninsula, crossed channels filled with just-breaking-up pack ice and spied a first tiny penguin chick (the majority will be born over the next couple weeks).

Antarctic Ice

We've also already endured a day of monstrous winds - hurricane-force, gusting to over 100 miles per hour and the news that a nearby tourist boat had run aground. I'll be reporting on that and more every day these next several weeks, from this most beautiful of landscapes.

Click Here to Travel Along -- Read Jon's Antarctica blog

By Freddie Wilkinson

We New Hampshire climbers like to think we're used to tough conditions. Brittle ice, no protection, minus ten degrees? Nooo proooblem... that's just like home. The thing is, you get so used to not having fun when you go climbing, that after a while, you sort of accept it as being just the way climbing is. You forget that you can choose other locales to go climbing, that there might be other routes that are warmer or sunnier or a tad easier, on which you might properly enjoy yourself. In New Hampshire, suffering is almost synonymous with winter climbing, and once you make that realization, it begins to seem fun again. Follow me? Anyways, I'm not sure if this curious mental state I'm speaking of influenced our decision to go try the North Face of Kantega this fall. It's freezing cold, uncompromisingly steep, and quite scary. Was our adventure just futile suffering, or a fun holiday? Read the following trip report, and you be the judge....

Kantega

Ben Gilmore, Kevin Mahoney, and I flew from Kathmandu to Lukla on October 7th and began trekking over the Zetra La pass into the Hinku Valley. We established basecamp six days later, at 5,500 meters on the west side of the Hinku glacier approximately two hours above Digkarka. The monsoon was late in departing the Himalaya this season, and despite that fact that it was already mid-October, it still rained on us every afternoon.

Kevin Mahoney on the approach

The face lies another eight miles above basecamp, though the terrain is a nightmare glacier of loose scree and rumble. It took us several days of scouting and load ferrying to establish an advanced basecamp on a glacial lake below the icefall leading to the face. We managed to find an easy path through the icefall, and spent a night bivied at 5,800 meters on the rim of the basin below the North Face, looking down at the distant lights of the Khumbu below. We then descended to basecamp to rest.

Before the trip, a chief concern had been whether it would be too dry, so we were relieved to see it was in a good nick, with broad swaths coated in a thick skin of white. But was that snow, ice or some combination there-of? We wouldn't know until we climbed the first pitch. Another issue we worried over was the bivouac. Climbing as a party of three, we knew we'd need to find a good site to accommodate everyone. This more than anything led us to choose a line on the left-hand margin of the face, the joined with the N.E. Ridge at about two thirds height. Large dollops of snow crowned the ridge, and we reckoned we'd be able to dig out a reasonable ledge or cave some where in the neighborhood.

As we rested in basecamp, the rest of the plan fell together. We'd divide our kit into two second packs, carrying a light bivy tent, food for two bivies, and plenty of warm clothes. In a fit of delusion, we also managed to convince ourselves that we could fit three guys into two sleeping bags zipped together. More on that later.

MHW athletes Freddie Wilkinson, Janet Bergman, and Pat Goodman, along with climber/photographer Ben Ditto, tackled peak 5394 of India's Manikaran Spires.

Climbing.com published this account of the group's likely first ascent.

"The snowy south face of peak 5394.

By Jon Bowermaster

I went to Vietnam the first time because I knew so little about the place, especially its people. During seven years I returned four more times, spending most of my time exploring its long coastline, where one-third of Vietnam's 85 million live. Along the way my teams and I spent days with rich and poor, fishermen and entrepreneurs, almost all beach dwellers who live and depend on the sea. For many, we were the first Americans they had ever met. During our longest exploration, in 2001, I was accompanied by photographer Rob Howard who made beautiful portraits of many of those we met.

Perhaps my most compelling travel was done with Ngan Nguyen, a Vietnamese refugee who'd fled the south with her family in 1975 and had grown up in the U.S. Traveling with her, especially through what was North Vietnam, was eye-opening for us both. The most emotional day for Ngan was when we kayaked along the Ben Hai River which had been the man-made demarcation separating north from south. The river symbolized for us all the tragic loss of more than 3 million Vietnamese lives, as well as more than 56,000 Americans ... which still today seems hard to rationalize, no matter where in the world you were born.

By Janet Bergman

I am writing with scabs on the backs of my hands and legs still sore, so the short of it is, yes, we did get to climb! As luck has it, I do not have to get into all the nitty gritty details of the account, because Pat already did, for the backcountry.com blog (who supplied us with oodles of freeze dried dinners and gu's!):

Did you read it? OK, here are my comments to add:

Our all-out-light-and-fast-town-to-town style of ascent (vs our original plan of establishing porter-supported camps along the way) was quite the adventure, and one of the most challenging physical undertakings I've ever had. Our choice to go ultra light (e.g. single set of cams per team) limited the lines we could choose, meaning easier climbing, but less optimal rock conditions (e.g. snowy, icy, wet, loose) and protection options. Freddie was, excuse my language, like a pig in shit on this type of terrain, while I was, at one point, squealing that I wanted to go wee wee all the way home.Too many seasons on good Cathedral, Yosemite and Patagonia granite I guess. It was my first time participating in this type of first ascent, and I remain in awe at the amount of experience Freddie (and Ben and Pat for that matter) has accumulated on every conceivable type of alpine terrain.

By Janet Bergman

Manali, India

Here is the play by play on our three day journey:

September 10: After a late night at the Mahoneys, Freddie and I had success making it to our bus in Newburyport, then into Boston, then to Chicago. Freddie picked Ben Ditto out of a crowd while we sat at a bar waiting for our overnight flight to Delhi, and the group was 3/4 complete. Ben, though, was on his way to the counter to find out if they would hold the Delhi flight for our 4th, Pat Goodman, who was delayed in Charlotte. They refused to hold the plane, so eventually we boarded and nested in for our long overseas flight. As they announced closing the doors, Pat suddenly appeared! Yeehaw! But would his bags?

September 11, minus about 12 ours of our life from the time change: Arrive in hot Delhi around 8 pm. All the bags show except, you guessed it, Pat's. Freddie entertains himself by sitting on the conveyor belt behind a Mountain Hardwear duffel bag, filming (part of our assignment on this trip is to use our recently acquired film school skills). We think the shot will go well with Jaws music later on. Pat runs around trying to find someone to help him locate the bags and eventually with many phone calls and near tantrums, he has promise of the bags arriving in Manali within a few days.

We all head through customs, with the mission of finding a taxi to leave immediately for Manali, 16 hours away. This is a challenge, it being 8 pm and us knowing no one and being deliriously out of place and exhausted. We eventually get roped in by the guy who talked the loudest, and within an hour we have the bags strapped on the roof of the Toyota SUV and we are on our way, with our man, Mr. Pal in the drivers seat. We all go in and out of consciousness, due to exhaustion, even as we witness one of the most wild driving any of us have seen. A combination of a Mr.Pal's lead foot; big trucks to dodge from both ways; skinny, winding, unkempt roads; and occasional obstacles (mopeds, people, cows and rivers).

September 12: We all crack a beer to toast the fact that we are actually here at around 9 am. Mr. Pal asks us if this is normal. We keep driving.

Our friend Jon Bowermaster is currently in Southern Louisiana, examining the area's wetlands and waterways. Follow Jon's journey through this magical landscape on his website, www.jonbowermaster.com.

Introduction:

By Jon Bowermaster

It's not news that water is a significant issue here in Southern Louisiana. [overview map] Much of the region lays below sea level and the waterways that surround - swamps & bayous, rivers & estuaries, man-made canals & the Gulf of Mexico - are never out of sight. Everyone debates concerns about its flow, purity and future at every level.

A dead zone the size of New Jersey - where nothing lives - grows at the mouth of the Mississippi River, thanks to chemical runoff. A recent oil spill in the big river unleashed 420,000 gallons of fuel oil that within 24 hours lined its banks for 100 miles. Old-growth Cyprus trees that anchor its historic swamps are clear-cut and turned into garden mulch. Wetlands are expanding, land is disappearing and New Orleans is still eight feet below sea level. Lots of grim news, right? So why does everyone we meet seem to be so damn happy? Follow along during the next two weeks as we explore Southern Louisiana from sea level and below.

By Pat Deavoll

Trying to justify expedition climbing in the Greater Ranges to a non climber is sometimes hard, but to justify travelling half the way around the world to fail for the second time on a chosen peak can be particularly torrid. Throw in the fact you've been climbing in country renown as a stronghold for Islamic terrorism, and most people shake their head in miscomprehension.

On July 2nd my climbing partner Malcolm Bass (UK) and I turned back at 6400m on our attempt to make the first ascent of Beka Brakkai Chhok (BBC) (6940m) in the Batura region of northern Pakistan.

For me it was the second retreat- I'd failed on BBC the previous year with my friend Lydia Bradey. I was devastated- to the point of not wanting to return home because of the reaction I thought Id get from friends, family and sponsors. Malcolm dealt with our failure more philosophically. The climbing was too dangerous to be justifiable, he said, and anyway, lots of well known climbers have failed on routes twice, Mark Twight and Nick Bullock for instance.

That was two weeks ago and in the interim I have come to the realisation that maybe the summit isn't as important as I was making it to be. I'm starting to look back with fondness on the expedition - the people around us, the beautiful area, Malcolm's company and the time we spent on the mountain, the whole experience of being in a country as exciting as Pakistan.

By Jon Bowermaster

For two weeks we'll be exploring the northwest coast of Africa, delving into the far corners of a pair of the smallest countries in the populous continent, stopping off on Spanish islands a few hundred miles from the mainland and ending in one of the most romantic desert hideaways in literary history. Along the way we'll meet fishermen and farmers, shopkeepers and historians and take an up-close look at a pair of environmental issues damning all of Africa (overfishing and desertification). The most intriguing discovery we'll make? Pyramids in the Canary Islands "discovered" by Thor Heyerdahl? Muslim men in Morocco campaigning for Hillary Clinton? Or salt farmers working a pink lake outside Dakar? Follow along for an unusual glimpse inside the lesser-seen corner of the planet's most mysterious continent.

Visit www.jonbowermaster.com/dispatches

View Dawn's Photographs

By Dawn Glanc

Our trip left Seattle and headed to Glacier Bay National Park on June 13, 2008. Saturday morning, the day began with a long breakfast at the lodge. This would be our last meal for awhile in which we would be sitting at a table, drinking coffee from ceramic mugs. I soaked in the last moments of luxury and then headed down to the boat dock. Our expedition was about to begin.

The boat we were going to take to the Reid inlet was the Alaska Dream, Captained by Jim Kearns. The boat ride was about 3 hours. We cruised along the water enjoying the scenery of Glacier Bay National Park. We spotted quite a bit of wildlife along the way. We saw otters, birds and my favorite, hump back whales. It was an amazing way to start the approach to a climb.

Eventually we made our way the shore of Reid Inlet. Jim landed the boat right on the beach. We eagerly jumped ashore and moved our gear onto the beach. The farewells were quick. We took many photos and said goodbye to Dan and Kit who had come along for the boat ride. The boat pushed away and you could see the look of worry in Kit's face. She waved goodbye with such emotion. As the boat engines faded into the distance, the trip was a definite reality. We were left on the beach with 21 days of food, skis, sleds, tents, sleeping bag, two full climbing kits, and all of our own personal kits. Due to the risk of bears, we had to get the entire load at least 1 mile away from the beach and onto the glacier.

Last week, Telluride, Colorado's Plum TV aired an interview with Ben Clark. On the interview, Ben discusses his recent trip to Annapurnia IV.

Watch the interview.

In January 2008, Mountain Hardwear athlete Neil Gresham set out to Iceland with a small team of British climbers to investigate rumours of sea cliffs with ice climbing potential. They were blown away by what they found. The cliffs of Kaldakin in the North West turned out to be an ice climber's paradise and the team climbed several new routes, including a freestanding WI 6 pillar, that was set dramatically against a backdrop of the crashing ocean. There were no other visitors to the cliffs during the duration of their trip. The short video attached shows what happened.

This lovely silent movie was produced by Neil Gresham, with additional help from Ian Parnell.

By Kit Herrod

The metaphor for cancer research is complete. There are more unclimbed mountains to challenge.

Late on Saturday, our team of Farmer, Dawn, Kevin and Bayard on the Big Expedition for Cancer Research determined that they had reached the safe limits of their attempt to climb one of Alaska's unclimbed peaks. For 9 hours, they battled unstable snow, ice and rock to move within 500 vertical feet of the summit of Peak 8290 in Glacier Bay's Fairweather Range. The two rope teams huddled at the high point and called an end to their attempt of the unclimbed mountain in the inaugural Big Expedition for Cancer Research.

Lee Hartwell, president and director of the Hutchinson Center, when receiving the news said ""The climbers are to be congratulated for going so far under trying conditions but especially for putting safety first. It is a true reflection of a principle that governs the research we do in each of our clinical trials. We are proud of the team for their successful challenge of this unclimbed mountain."

"Extremely hazardous" were the first two words out of Farmer's mouth when he made the sat phone call back from base camp to Seattle. "We gave this mountain everything we had within the boundaries of safe, rational mountaineering standards. Sometimes the mountain sets the limits and we have to accept them," he said.

By Kit Herrod

The Big Expedition, up in lights over NYC's Times Square.

On Monday, June 16, the four mountaineers on the Big Expedition for Cancer Research were on the Brady Icefield and picking up their pace toward base camp. Via satellite phone, Matt Farmer, who likes to be called Farmer, said that the team was in good shape and moving toward the Southeast corner of the icefield where they will get their first look at Peak 8290 from the ground.

Since arriving at Reid Inlet on Saturday, the team has had two good days for travel. On Saturday, they moved all their gear approximately 1.5 miles up to the top of Reid Glacier. The terrain was too steep to use their sleds so they each had to make three round trips with only their packs to reach their first overnight camp.

Not 5 minutes after they brought their last load to the campsite, the "Visitor" appeared.

By Cynthia Houng

This spring, 3 Mountain Hardwear-sponsored teams headed to the Himalayas. Two teams chose to tackle Annapurna (Ueli Steck and Simon Anthmatten went for Annapurna's notoriously treacherous South Face, while Ben Clark and his crew were aiming for the first ski descent of Annapurna IV), while the 3rd team, composed of Kenton Cool, Sir Ranulph Fiennes, and Rob Casserley, were Everest-bound.

The 2008 season ended with a mixture of triumph and heartbreak.

View more photographs

Original German text by Edi Estermann, first published in the "Schweizer Illustrierte", Issue No. 23, June 2, 2008.

Translated by Patricia Bamert, with assistance from Cynthia Houng

Big stories begin with small coincidences. A coincidence that Ueli Steck switches on his phone once again on that evening, just before he gets into his sleeping bag.

Base camp, Annapurna South, Nepal, 4200m above sea level: It's Monday, May 19, 7pm. It is snowing slightly at the foot of this 3000 meter tall wall of granite. Ueli Steck, 31, from Ringgenberg (Canton of Bern) and Simon Anthamatten, 24, from Zermatt, (Canton of Valais), came to climb this wall. In the following days the climbing will start. Both are very fit and highly motivated. Dry meat and cheese for dinner - perfect. The chocolate cake is ready. But today there will be no dessert.

"One missed call," reads Ueli's Handy display. Horia Colibasanu, a 31 year old dentist from Rumania, tried to call him. At that moment Horia is up at Camp 4 on the ridge of the Annapurna at 7400 m. On Friday Horia, Inaki Ochoa de Olza, 40 (Spain), and Alexey Bolotov, 45 (Russia), climb over the east ridge towards the Annapurna Summit (8091m).

Andrew Lock, the Australian mountaineer and Mountain Hardwear athlete, summited Mt. Makalu ("8479 meters, world's 5th highest mountain, and the 13th summit in [Andrew's] quest to climb all 14 of the world's '8000ers') on May 21, 2008.

A steep, massive peak on the border between Tibet and Nepal, Makalu is considered a challenging climb. Only 5 of the first 16 attempts to summit Makalu were successful. In 1955, Jean Couzy and Lionel Terray claimed Makalu's first ascent.

Read about Andrew's 2008 expedition to Makalu Shisha Pangma on his blog.

By Ueli Steck

Ringgenberg, Monday, June 2, 2008

Simon and I are back in Switzerland and we will try in the next days and weeks to get some rest and we hope that we will work up the happenings of the past weeks.

When we received the distress call form the Romanian [climber] Horia Colibasanu, it was clear for us that we would go up and help them. For us it was just obvious. We didn't hesitate one second. At the same time we knew that afterwards the expedition would be over.

Annapurna will be watching over the valley of the Modi Khola forever. We as human beings, we will have only one life to live for. I have been at the Annapurna twice. But I can go there another 20 times, if I wish to do so. But both of us, Simon and I, we would have never been able to live with the fact, that we didn't go up and help our friends in need.

We did our best. Unfortunately our help came too late.

But Inaki was never alone. Horia was near him all the time, helping him until he had to go down himself. When I reached Camp 4 I hoped Inaki would make it. But all the Dexamethason I gave him, all my efforts to keep him alive, failed. Inaki didn't have to die alone. This gives me consolation.

By Kenton Cool

Kathmandu:

I hope you know by now team Marie Curie summated Mount Everest at 6.30am Nepalese Time. It was a hard fought summit this time and the only bad news was that Ran wasn't with Rob and myself.

It all started from the South Col, Ran had put in an amazing effort to get from camp 3 at 7300m to camp 4 (South Col) at 7950m in a startling quick 6hrs. Getting to the South Col early means that there is time to recover before the final summit push. In the time we have, we all try to drink and eat as much as possible but ones body loses the want to eat. Ran however seemed to have a healthy appetite and was wolfing down litres of drink and a whole meal, he also seemed to be in great sprits. After a few hours at the Col Ran asked if it would be possible to stay an extra day in order to let him recover that little bit more. Now i'ts not something I would normally do, as resting at 8000m is not really resting, in fact the body would normally just deteriorate, however we had everything in place so that this would be possible if the situation arose. As all this was going on Rob had been talking to a friend from IMG who had indicated the forecast wasn't looking good for a stay at the Col. A quick Radio call to BC confirmed this and I broke the news to Ran. He took it well and put his head back into his sleeping bag to get the most out of the few hours we had left.

At 6pm we had a live broadcast to do for ITN. Rob did a great job struggling out of his sleeping bag to put the laptop and Bgan together before contacting London. The broadcast went really well and by 6.20pm we had finished what quite possibly was the highest ever 2 way broadcast. With this finished, we knew we only had a couple of hours left before lift off so it was heads down to melting water and trying to sort our stuff out.

8.30pm and we burst from the tent, ready to go. We clipped on crampons and checked pressure on O2 bottles. This was it, time to go, 8months of preparation at home and 6 weeks on the mountain boils down to this..... the final push to the top of the world.

Four new photos from Robert Jasper and the Baffin team:

On Monday, May 26, 2008, we received this dispatch from Ueli Steck's office in Switzerland:

"Ueli and Simon started today their way back to Kathmandu. Both are tired and happy to go back home as soon as possible. After this tremendous effort, they would need at least a couple of days to get physically and mentally fully recovered in order to go for another attempt for Annapurna South face. Also, the monsoon season starts very soon, that's why they decided not to try once more an attempt on Annapurna South Face. We are all happy that both are doing fine and hopefully they might get another chance to go for this project sometime in the future."

Ueli and Simon were both involved in the rescue effort on Annapurna. It was a physically and emotionally taxing endeavor, and we are grateful for their safe return.

By Ben Clark

May 27, 2008, Hong Kong:

We have arrived at the trail's end and are on the road home.

The morning of 5/23 we boarded a plane in Jomosom, a tiny Nepali airstrip located between the Annapurna and Dhauligiri ranges. The airline, Gorkha: "Fly with us the gallant way." What? Six expeditions here and I never really knew how to define something such as flying as "gallant."

As poor weather delayed our flight for 2 hours we pondered our position. The upper hand was always in our favor as we were done walking and food was available everywhere. Flying was almost wishful thinking. The weather this year has been relentless, when the call came the crowd spread like rats.

The pilot boarded the plane-towel around his neck and fingerless gloves tougher than Chuck Norris. As we darted forward in the tiny caravan we thrust upward at the last minute, our stomachs lighter than a plastic bag. The pilot had no room for error, the runway ends abruptly with almost a kicker or tiny raised lip to push us over the edge and into the upper valley. Wingtip to wingtip soaring again, the "gallant" way?

By the same afternoon we were on the hunt for adventure again. An old friend, David Riggs, met us in Pokhara. He is on his post graduation trip from Thunderbird where he just received his MBA. He formerly ran an import/export business in Nepal between his undergrad and Thunderbird. When Riggs joined us for our last few days things really got fun.

"Motorcycles, Clark" Riggs threw out, "We have to get some."

By Pat Deavoll

As a sequel to last year's great fun but ultimately unsuccessful attempt to make the first ascent of Beka Brakkai Chhok (6940m) in the Baltar Glacier region, Northern Pakistan, I'm heading off on May 31 to have another go at the mountain, thanks in part to some very generous sponsorship form Mountain Hardwear.

To fill you in on the background .....last year (2007) Lydia Bradey (of first-woman-to-climb-Everest-without-oxygen fame ) and I were lucky enough to secure a rather large financial grant from 'Sport and Recreation New Zealand' allowing us to organise a two woman assault on Beka Brakkai Chhok (BBC).

I won't go into too much detail on the in and outs of the expedition, other than to say we came to a halt at 6000m but had an awesome time and ended up making a first ascent of a smaller mountain we called Wahine (5800m) with two gorgeous Italian men (Giampi and Lorenzo Corona) who had also failed on their chosen peak. What more can two girls ask for!

You can read an amusing account of the trip Lydia wrote for the New Zealand Alpine Club Annual Bulletin on my blog site, www.patdeavoll.co.nz ,and an essay I did on the experience in the 'Essays and Reflections' section of Hardwear Sessions.

This year I'm attempting BBC with Malcolm Bass from England. Malcolm is a great mate and really talented climber and bastard 'ard! On the mountain he hardly wears any clothes and never feels the cold! We met in Alaska in '02, again in '03, then organised an expedition together to the Indian Gharwal in 2004, then last met up in Western China in October 2006 to make the much coveted first ascent of Haizi Shan. I think we were the eleventh expedition to try the peak! You can read both of our climbing resumes on my blog.

Anyway, a bit about our mountain of the moment...Beka Brakkai Chhok (6940m)

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By Freddie Wilkinson

"There they are! She's almost to the second ice band.... wow! Is today their fifth or sixth day on the climb?"

If being an alpine paparazzi is your thing, it's hard to beat hanging out at basecamp on the Southeast fork of the Kahiltna glacier in Alaska. The SE fork is the starting point for virtually all ascents of the Alaska Range's big three: Denali, Mount Foraker, and Mount Hunter. On a busy evening in mid-May, one finds plane loads of guided West Buttress expeditions with their matching tents, private groups of gumbies trying to figure out how to light their stoves, and brooding alpinists sulking around "waiting for the forecast to improve". Basecamp is to Alaskan climbing what Ellis Island was to American immigrants: a snowbound customs house where the journey ends and the climbing begins. It all makes for excellent people watching.

And nobody gets more scrutiny then those attempting the North Buttress of Mount Hunter, a gleaming turret of ice and rock only two miles from basecamp.Through the National Park Service's high-powered spotting scope, you can sit back and watch a team's every move.

When Ben Gilmore, Max Turgeon and I arrived there two weeks ago, I immediately noticed a group of folks lurking around the scope and knew: somebody was up on the Moonflower.

The New York Times recently covered the Fred Hutchinson Center's Climb for Cancer. The Climb includes Mountain Hardwear athletes Kevin Mahoney and Dawn Glanc. The Climb is intended to increase public awareness of cancer.

The four climbers (Kevin, Dawn, Matt Farmer and Bayard Russell) are currently on a "dry run" on Mount Rainier. In June, the group will head to Alaska to climb an unclimbed peak in the Fairweather Range.

By Ben Clark

May 20, 2008, Manang:

Warm Tuborg beer from a dusty brown bottle flowed through my lips while the howling winds of the Marsyangdi valley pelted the windows with sand and dust. I sat there shivering in the calm air after taking my first shower in about a month. We are now on the Annapurna Circuit, a popular route for travelers to Nepal.

View More Photographs from Everest

By Kenton Cool

ITS ON!!!!!!! We have just got the latest weather in 10minutes ago. Finally after an age of waiting the weather forecast looks like its good for the 24th. This means we leave early tomorrow morning on a push to camp 2. Keep fingers and toes crossed for us all as we battle our way to the summit

While you're waiting to hear more from Kenton, Rob, and Ran, read a little about life at base camp:

Many people ask what a standard day at base camp is like, so here is a short piece explaining a typical day.

On a rest day there is no alarm call so I generally wake naturally at around 6.30 and simply lounge in my sleeping bag until the sun hits the tent at 6.45. If it's not cloudy the tent warms so quickly that by 7 I'm dressed and outside. It's quite a tricky path from my tent to the kitchen area and my smashed ankles take a little while to warm up over the boulders but its not so far and there is the prize of a cup of tea at the end.

By Ben Clark

May 18, 2008

Tossing and turning throughout the night, my eyes scoured tiny visions of darkness through the slit between my fleece hat and draft collar on my sleeping bag. Where was morning? A frozen water bottle held my watch around its mouth, inches from my ear but an eternity from the base of the mountain. It was a long cold night waiting for the alarm to sound and preparing for the edgiest descent of my life.

Josh and I have towed the line on three expeditions in remote areas of the world. Most notably we have been pioneering routes in Sichuan, on the Eastern Alp like Himalaya. Our goals always process the same way-light,2 man teams for big technical mountains-climbed alone and leaving no trace. Of course,the devil is always in the details and until you are living and breathing the adventure the spirit of this style does not come alive. Here it pulsated like Chernobyl, resin of the experience now peels from my face in the form of one of over 20 layers of sunscreen. I feel intensely alive at the core.

Annapurna base camp, Friday, May 16 2008

We are back at the base camp. Simon and I decided to go back. The avalanches came down already at 9 pm. The weather and the wall conditions made it impossible to climb further up. To dangerous. Just now the weather clears up and we see the wall. From our secure place at the bc, the whole avalanche-scenario looks simply impressive. We still have 22 days before the expedition comes to its end. We do hope that more stable weather will come in and that we get the chance to go up the Annapurna Southface. We don't give up!

By Ben Clark

May 16, 2008 -- Camp 3, Annapurna IV

Well, the time is here...up or down? It is an easy decision. We worked the weather window and conditions and now that is what is working us. We get to ski tomorrow!

When we elected not to leave camp this morning it was a good decision. Now that we have had steady westerly winds and drifts of over a foot in camp it is clear what to do. We're going down. That will be sketchy enough.

By Ben Clark

May 15, 2008--Camp 3, Annapurna IV

We arrived in camp 3 today at 3 PM. We are now in the high Himalaya at 20,000' and as wide eyed and ready as ever. For what? Everything a mountain can throw at you.

We awoke at 6:30 this morning, ready to meet the daily slush of Annapurna IV, but today was different-we no longer wanted to fight the snow. Josh took the first three hours of moderate and steep wet slogging up 45-50 degree slopes before handing me the crux. It was a hot day again but when we arrived at the technical difficulties, both our heads cooled down.

By Ueli Steck

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

It's a good week since Simon and I arrived at the Annapurna base camp. On Thursday, May 8, we went up to install the ABC at about 5100m. We left the necessary equipment there, which we would need for our ascent. Then we went back to the base camp. The weather conditions and the forecast were still too bad. Back at the camp a fragrant dinner was waiting for us. For dessert we had apple pie.

Already at the Thengkampoche base camp I stood whenever possible with Kaji, our cook, together in the camp kitchen. No doubt: Kaji is a great cook. But like in alpinism, details are important in the kitchen, too. And working with him, I tried to improve exactly these details. The "Italian Pizza", for instance, with the mushrooms picked by my father, or the one with "prosciutto" ham from Cervinio is getting better and better. Last but not least we baked a carrot cake.

We have to watch out a little bit. Each pound of weight too much, not only in our backpacks but also on our bodies, which we have to carry up the mountain, will decide our success or failure.

Something seems to happen also in the "weather kitchen": the forecast for the following days and for the next few weeks seem to be promising. Simon and I have decided: tomorrow we will start for our next project: the Annapurna Southface.

By Ben Clark

May 14, 2008, intermediate camp

Today was hard. Short, pumpy and physical. The snow and weather is deteriorating on Annapurna IV's north ridge--and we are in the middle of it--but safe.

Josh and I climbed out of camp 1 at 6AM, it was beginning to cloud up below As I lead a block of pitches of snow, rock and ice scrambling out of camp, we were getting happy about moving--things were frozen--our greatest wish. As I neared 18,000' it became a struggle like a pebble versus a stream, I could not win swimming through consistent hip deep rotten snow. It was mind blowing--even for a climber who spends all summer wading through it in Colorado's San Juan mountains.

By Ben Clark

May 13, 2008

Himalayan climbing is challenging, pioneering in this great range is an even more daunting proposition. The mountain has spoken to us, it is all around us, it is inside of us as we melt and drink it to sustain ourselves. This is the awareness and connection I come here for. It is not what everyone wants and feels.

It has been a few days since the last e-mail dispatch and we are alive and better than ever, without the summit. The three of us made a deliberate and exhausting foray onto the upper flanks of the mountain reaching deep within ourselves and high onto the peak. Sometimes the rewards of climbing mountains are reached well below the summit and for our enthusiastic teammate Tim Clarke, this is the case.

More photographs

By Ueli Steck

With a beer Simon and I celebrated out first ascent of Tengkampoche Northface when we got back the same night of April 24, to Tengkampoche basecamp. For more, we were too exhausted and the following morning we were already on the way back to Kathmandu. In the capital we just stayed to get the permit for Annapurna Southface. Now we are in Pokhara trying to get some rest. Several porters are already on the way to the Annapurna basecamp with all our equipment.

By Kenton Cool

May 9, 2008

Well by now you probably have heard the news. The Chinese have finally summit Everest from the North with the Olympic Torch. This means that all the climbing restrictions that had been in place on the south side have now been lifted. In short we are allowed to go and climb the mountain WOOHOO.

It was about 6am yesterday that I woke to the drone of a small jet circling the mountain. Now this is not normal so at once we knew some thing was happening. The plane circled the mountain for around 2hrs and then the news came through. At 9.16am China had got the Olympic torch as well as 21 climbers to the summit. The news was greeted with relief here at base camp; one could see the climbers visible perk up after an enforced period of rest due to the restrictions imposed by the Chinese.

So where does that leave us now??

More Photographs

By Robert Jasper and Stefan Glowacz

May 6-7, 2008

These days, nothing much is happening. We just move the PortaLedge up the wall. The next few meters are crucial and we must free climb them. In technical climbing, only the most difficult routes are not possible. Only after over 10 meters do we find some relatively reliable protection. Yet between the bitter cold and the storm it is difficult to imagine free climbing further. We can still wait, for now. We're still on schedule.

By Ben Clark

May 7, 2008

Twisting wisps of wind dance along the solemn northwest ridgeline of Annapurna IV. Playfully the dance has drawn us in forcing us to question, will the jet stream push away these little snow devils and surge the ridgeline with the power of a hurricane or will we enter a window of opportunity? We will be there to see, we begin the ascent tomorrow.

Basecamp is slowly drying day be day as summer's short season approaches. Today, as the mountain emerged from it's cloudy blanket, the wind and snow dissipated while we racked our gear, dried our boots and prepared our packs for the altitude above. We are going light,by necessity, and are prepared for a single push effort to the summit that will ideally take 4 days.

By Robert Jasper and Stefan Glowacz

May 3, 2008, Baffin Island

Free climbing from 9 in the morning to 2 in the afternoon. Then until 10 pm, technical climbing in a bitterly cold, though grand, landscape. Robert, Mariusz, and Klaus got about four rope lengths up. Tomorrow it will be Holger, Klaus, and myself in the line-up. We are under great time pressure. The latest that we can stay is May 20th, and then we must return through the marsh to the Clyde River. Besides, the ice threatens to break before our approach. We are under enormous stress. We've also come into contact with polar bears. So this is how we planned our vacation... A hungry polar bear passed within meters of our camp, frightening us, before wandering away. It is a wild, stirring land. But for inconceivable reasons we would want it no other way...

This year, access to Everest is severely restricted. The Chinese hope to run the Olympic torch up to the summit today, but in the meantime, the Nepalese side is heavily monitored, and the Tibetan side is "closed."

Listen to Dave Breashears talk about the Everest situation and its implications for the 2008 climbing season.

Read the Alpinist's coverage.

Meanwhile, Kenton, Sir Ran, and the rest of the crew hang out at Everest and play "the waiting game." Here's Kenton's latest dispatch:

"Just keeping you in the loop by saying that not much is happening. As you know China is trying to get the Olympic torch to the summit of Everest, and as such they have imposed a few restrictions on the south side. We are currently all sitting at BC waiting for the green light to climb higher."

May 4, 2008:

A long storm pattern is blanketing Annapurna IV with snow. Each hour we hear thundering avalanches ripping down the North face. Eerily we wake in the middle of the night as if a dumptruck just pulled into camp. Annapurna IV is a dynamic mass, the same gravity that pulls at it's slopes is the same force that is our ticket to fun!

We have now spent 5 nights and four days beneath the massive North ridge of Annapurna IV. When the sun is out it is an awe inspiring vision, fractured where it's convexity breaks toward earth and elegant as marble where the jet stream touches it. Elements are at play constantly sculpting it to it's present form. When one enters the Himalayan high country, it is evident in some rare form that earth is so puzzling sometimes it is better to just look and breathe before you taste.

Sprinkles of snow dot our tent fabric every few hours throughout the day. It sounds like sand blasting against a tarp when the mighty winds plunge to our altitude. Sometimes we are numb to the sound, the laughter of each other and the ruckus of long bouts of gambling in the cook tent distract us. If nothing else, we have "discovered" a 40 minute loop of what we liken to be the Talking Heads of Nepal. I don't know what their call and response is saying but...it's growing on us. Pasang and Dorje our cooks are really into it.

Read Andrew's trip report.

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By Kenton Cool

By Ben Clark

April 30, 2008

Annapurna IV is a striking peak cutting the cobalt sky and breaking the jet stream. A long technical shoulder leads its lofty summit, this will be our path. We now sit below this shoulder at 15,500'. Distant echoes of glaciers calving are now drowned out by thunder. Thunder.

Ueli Steck and Simon Anthamatten summitted the North Face of Tengkangpoche. Here are some photographs from their climb:

Click here to view the photo set.

View the route.

By Ben Clark

April 29, 2008

We are in the high country now, 24,688-foot tall Annapurna IV looms large above us. Still we have 13,000 ft and many days to go. Our arrival in basecamp tomorrow will signify the beginning of the true climb.

We have traveled on foot for 5 days, Tim, Josh and our cook staff and 20 porters. We are a large and slow moving unit. Each day begins with music and cheering from the porters and each night laughter cuts the darkness. This is a fun place to be and a great adventure for us all.

On April 30, we plan to move to a camp at 15,500 ft on a large step below the North ridge and thundering North face of the mountain. We will wait three days before beginning our first ascent of the mountain.

Click here to enlarge the photograph

We're a few days shy of May, and it seems like everyone is in Kathmandu. The 2008 expedition season is in full swing. Ben Clark and his crew are making their way towards Annapurna.

Learn more about Ben's expedition on the Annapurna IV website.

Listen to a podcast interview with Ben.

By Ben Clark

April 23, 2008, Kathmandu

"US mum on terror tag" the headline read on the Himalayan times this morning, the No.1 English Daily of Nepal. I awoke to unidentified explosions at 5AM and until I finally heard the subtle percussion and flute wafting through the thick air of Kathmandu, it seemed I could not set down my third cup of coffee. We are here, but terror? Hardly...

Kathmandu is awake later than I remember. The Prachanda, the CPN Maoist party leader is slowly gaining authority from the people and it seems peaceful. The melting pot of hippie chic and baby boomers from Europe and Asia has eclipdsed the wild eyed Everest mountaineers who just weeks ago filled the Yak and Yeti hotel. For now it is evolving more like a slow reduction, robust and patient rather than spicy and eccentric. It feels good to be here as an American, we are guests and feel welcome.

Andrew McLean is back from Alaska. Enjoy a selection of Andrew's photos:

Click here to view more photographs

While Andrew and his team were camped out, they experienced a rather unpleasant storm. Andrew captured this footage with a small point-and-shoot camera:

We are pleased to share Ueli's latest news with you--Ueli and Simon have just completed a successful first ascent of the Tengkampoche North Face, a 6500 meter peak in Nepal's Khumbu Valley.

By Ueli Steck

Thengpo base camp - Friday, April 25, 2008

Yesterday morning, Thursday, April 24 at 7 am, Simon and I reached the summit of the 6500 meter high Tengkampoche peak in Khumbu Valley. Our first ascent through its north face was completed in the alpine style and we didn't use any bolts or any fixed ropes. We needed four days to go up and down. Already quite a few expeditions tried this route before us, without success.

By Ueli Steck

Thengpo Base Camp, April 20, 2008:

During our treks it happens that we do meet some very interesting personalities. So we did on Sunday, April 6, when we walked back from the Trashi Laptsa Pass back to our base camp at Thengpo.

The second "acclimatisation night" just underneath the Trashi Laptsa Pass is coming to an end. Finally and fortunately. The uneven stones have started to press painfully on our backs through the thin meadow. The weather is merciful. It begins to snow, but only after we've finished packing. At the Pachermo Peak base camp further down, which sits at 4800 meters, we spot some new tents.

Enlarge this image

By Freddie Wilkinson

There's a saying I've heard from hardcore Alaskans that goes something like this: "You live in Anchorage? Oh, that's is a nice city.... it's only five minutes from real Alaska."

Ben Gilmore, Max Turgeon, and I just arrived in this bustling concrete jungle of big box stores, one way streets, and strip malls. We spent yesterday frantically running around town, racking up hundreds of dollars in credit card debt while equip-ing ourselves with provisions for three weeks. Wallmart, Costco, Carrs, Fred Meyer's, Barnes and Noble (we're packing biographies of Harry Truman and Jenna Jameson), Best Buy, Sportsman's Warehouse, and REI were all requisite stops. Luckily, we commandeered a diesel F250 truck, courtesy of our buddy, the esteemed Colby Coombs of Alaska Mountaineering School. Our gear and supplies barely fit in the eight-foot bed, and we only got lost driving the perplexing streets of Anchorage three, or maybe four, times.

By Bernice Notemboom

The strange thing about Greenland's ice-cap is that some parts are thinning by up to a meter a year and other parts are growing due to warmer temperatures which increases precipitation. As the ice cap is more than 3 kilometers thick what is the problem?

Robert Jasper and Stefan Glowacz (the cofounder of Red Chili) have headed out to Baffin Island for seven weeks of kite skiing and climbing. The duo hope to explore new routes in the Querbitter Fjord region, "an unexplored area with towering rock faces more than 1000 meters tall." The fjords rise, almost sheer, from the sea, and have seen little human activity. Robert and Stefan believe that the area's granite and gneiss cliffs will yield a number of highly aesthetic routes. They will travel to their destination with snow kites, accompanied by local Inuit guides.

Visit the Baffin Island Expedition page to read the team's diary. Even if German is not your first--or second, or even fifth language--we recommend a visit, if only to experience the site's lush graphics and beautiful design.

And don't forget to come back to this site for English updates.

View More Photos from the Mendenhall Towers

Sam Magro and Ryan Johnson, recipients of the 2008 Mugs Stump Award, tackled Alaska's Mendenhall Towers this spring. They completed the first ascent of the north face of the West Tower. Here's a brief account of the climb. You can find a slightly different version on Climbing.com.

By Sam Magro

The trip was a perfect 16 days. We landed in good weather, then we were socked in for 7 days straight and received between 15 and 20 feet of snow. It was an absolute neccessity that we took shifts to shovel out our tent every 2-4 hours depending on the amount of snow fall and wind. If we had not we would have been literally buried alive. It was an amazing display of Mother Nature's power. Further more it demanded that we respect these unhospitable Mendenhall Towers and their unclimbed north faces.

On the 5th day the shoveling became a bit ridiculous. We were barely getting any sleep. The night before was quite exhausting...so we decided to go subterranean. We dug all day and created an ice cave palace 15' below the surface. Our battles of shoveling was finally subdued. We still had to push snow out of our tunnel each morning like a couple of gophers.

Our spirits stayed positive and the sun finally fell on our soaking wet lives. We took a day to dry out and did a nice ski tour/ scouting mission. The next day we climbed, Ryan took a big fall on the ice we hoped to climb (it was unclimbable). The lines we spotted were merely grime filled corners with moss/dirt filled knife blade seams for meager gear. The next day we tried the same line, when we realized....we came to climb ice not sketchy snow covered, hard to protect rock.

I down climbed off a loose lost arrow and we were back across the Bergschrund. It was 11 in the morning and a beautiful high pressure system was upon us. The time was now to climb.

By Ueli Steck

Namche Bazar - Monday, April 14, 2008

Simon and I needed a short break. That's why we decided to go back to Namche Bazar just for one day. Our first attempt to climb the north face ofTengkamopche took us quite a bit of energy. We had to break off our climb due to the bad weather.

Thursday, April 10: After our trip to the Trashi Laptsa Pass and further up, we rested for 3 days. Today we want to try the north face of Tengkampoche. At 3 am it's time for breakfast. Although it's very early, we find our cook Kaji in a great mood, as usual.

We start our way to the wall at 4 pm. Simon ahead of me. The way is not too difficult to find and it's not too far away from our base camp. By daybreak we put on our climbing harness and crampons. The weather is good, the wind not too strong. The forecast for the following days: Friday more wind, otherwise dry. On Saturday night, the winds will increase in strength. Saturday there will be more humidity, wind changes to north-west. Sunday dry. The forecast for Saturday does not disturb us.

We should make it to the upper part of the wall by then, just before coming out to the summit. We carry a minimum of equipment. We have food for four days and our sleeping bags in one backpack. We decide not take a tent with us. As from our wall-studies, done during the days before, we would be happy to find a bivouac somewhere, where we would be able to lie down. Simon goes up first and climbs the first 100 meters. Most of the time we climb together. We are connected by a rope and in between we place at least two belaying points. This is a very efficient method to gain height quickly and still stay secured at the wall.

Visit the Arctic Alert website

By Bernice Notemboom

April 7, 2008

Frost bites still visual on my thighs and finger tips numb, I am preparing for my next expedition Arctic Alert Greenland. In less then a month John van Giels and I will be flying to 70 degrees north latitude to the village of Uummannaq - investigating the impact of climate change on the Inuit. From Uummannaq we ski onto the icecap and ski south hopefully to a scientist camp near Illuissat where we will report about the moulins in the icecap and the research they are conducting. We will film for a Dutch educational tv station and post a blog on this website along with blogs on ArticAlert.nl, de Volkskrant and Mountain Hardwear.

By Andrew McLean

Known as the "Mountain Kingdom of North America," the 13.2 million acre Wrangell-St. Elias National Park & Preserve is the largest National Park in North America. During the first 3 weeks of April, a team of four friends-- Ben Ditto, Armond DuBuque, Lorne Glick, and myself--will use traction kites to cover miles of vast open terrain between pristine skiing objectives.

After getting dropped off at the U.S.-Canadian border directly north of Mt. St. Elias, we will work our way west on the Bagley Icefield. The St. Elias Mountains and Waxell Ridge beyond them extend for a combined 90 miles of pristine Alaskan peaks. Our plan is to travel by kite when wind and conditions allow, then ski as many first descents as possible along the way.

Listen to podcast updates from the Bagley Icefield 2008 tour. I'm updating this site regularly with our progress, so check back often.

By Ueli Steck

Thengpo basecamp - Tuesday, April 8, 2008:

We left the village of Namche Bazar (3440m) on Monday, March 31st. Simon and I passed the village of Thame (3800m) and his famous monastery and reached Thengpo on the same day. Thengpo is located at 4250m. Here we will spend the following weeks. Just in front of our camp we can see Tengkampoche (6500m) with his huge and impressive wall.

On Friday, April 4, we moved to higher altitudes. We spent the night at 5640m on the Trashi Laptsa pass. On Saturday we went higher up and then descended back to the Trashi Laptsa pass, where we spent another night. On Sunday, April 6, accompanied by heavy snowfall, we trekked back to our basecamp at Thengpo.

The conditions in the wall of Tengkampoche don't look too bad. However there is still slightly too much snow in the wall, due to the heavy snowfall on Sunday. Further, today the winds were too strong on the summit. The forecast for the following days is promising. We will have a first go on Thursday.

By Kenton Cool

Sir Ran Fiennes, with Everest over his left shoulder

The Dream Guides Everest 08 expedition is finally underway after months of planning and more than a little stress due to China being a wee bit of a pain.

Sir Ran Fiennes and I are currently in Namche, the capital of the Khumbu. We left Kathmandu on Fri Morning and had an uneventful flight to Lukla. (Ran is best known in the United States as the cousin of the actor Ralph Fiennes.)

By Ueli Steck

Yesterday we arrived in Namche Bazar. Finally. The flight to Lukla was planned for today. But Simon and I didn't feel like staying in Kathmandu for another three days. "No possible" was the answer from Sherpa Dendi, when we asked him if he could change the flight. In the end it worked out, somehow. As usual, you have to be at Kathmandu airport very early, 6 am, even if the flight is scheduled only at 9 pm. I told Simon to prepare himself to a long time of waiting. But suddenly something unusual happened and we found ourselves in the plane to Lukla at 7.45 pm. Not even one hour has passed, since we woke up...

The equipment had been flown to Lukla a few days ago and most of the porters are on the way to the basecamp, without us. Four porters are waiting for us with the equipment we need for the trek. We stow away our sleeping bags and necessary items in our backbacks and we start our way up to Namche Bazar. We try to use these treks, to get as well acclimatized as possible. After 5 hours of walking we reach Namche Bazar. Perfectly on time for lunch at the "German Bakery". The village is situated at 3,440 meters. We will stay here today, to get used to the altitude. Tomorrow we plan to go straight up to the basecamp at 4,250 meters. The basecamp is located about an hour beyond the village Tengbo.

By Ueli Steck

March 27, 2008 -- Kathmandu, Nepal

During the last past two months I have talked a lot about climbing and alpinism. I was on tour with my new slideshow. Traveling through many different cities in the German part of Switzerland, I gave a total of 45 shows.

Now it's definitely time to get back to climbing. Simon Anthamatten and I have just arrived in Kathmandu, Nepal, and everything is running as planned - more or less.

All our equipment must be transported to the Khumbu Valley. There, we will try to climb Tengkampoche and get as well acclimatized as possible. It's a mountain with a beautiful shape and an impressive north face (approx. 6500 meters high), which has never been climbed before. A lot of work is waiting for us. We are ready to go for it.

The following weeks Simon and I will be busy with climbing. All our thoughts will be absorbed in climbing. From now on, we will be awakened by the words "Milk tea, Sir..." And only afterwards we will have our cup of coffee...

KING-5 (a local Seattle TV station) gives an overview of Dawn Glanc and Kevin Mahoney's upcoming Fred Hutchinson Climb for Cancer. The climbers will tackle an unclimbed peak in Alaska. Watch the video to learn about the peak's history and see video footage of the peak.

View More Photos

By Dawn Glanc

When you plan a trip to the mountains in February, you plan for snow and cold temperatures. You expect winter conditions especially when the mountains you are planning to play in are 10,000 feet and higher. All my planning turned out to be a futile effort. Not one single snowflake fell for the first month I was here in La Grave. That means from February 9 until March 10, I saw no fresh snow. No powder days, no blissful days of whooshing down the slopes. The snow had turned to concrete and conditions were grim. And then, the night of March 10 came to town.

The night began with some cold wind, then the clouds rolled in. The storm was upon the village and was beginning to pounce on the mountain of La Meije. Snow began to fall. I almost could not believe my eyes. I went to sleep dreaming that I was a great skier. I awoke throughout the night, and to my dismay, rain was falling on the village. When we finally woke in the morning, only a few centimeters had fallen. I still suited up and grabbed my ski gear. This was going to be a powder day, damn it, even if it was only a few measly centimeters.

Farmer works in La Grave as a ski guide at the Skiers Lodge. I went to work that day with Farmer as his tail-guide so that I had a group to ski with. This is not a mountain I feel comfortable skiing alone. The mountain here is not your typical ski resort. The lift starts at 1400 meters and goes to 3200 meters. Then there is a surface lift, or T-bar, that goes to 3500 meters. There are only two tiny piste runs that are each 2-cat tracks wide. The piste runs only go from 3500 meters back to 3200 meters. The rest of the terrain is considered "High Mountain", off piste with no real ski patrol. There are no signs marking the green and blue runs, or any runs for that matter. This mountain and the risks are the real deal.

More Photos from La Grave

By Dawn Glanc

After taking a week off of climbing, I was a bit restless. My injuries were healing and the stitches had been removed. I was ready to go. The weather here in La Grave was spring like. Day after day the weather was warm and sunny with no precipitation. This would have been a great forecast any other time, however we were trying to ice climb and ski. The conditions for our winter adventures were quickly turning to shit. The snow had turned to concrete and the ice had turned to mush. The entire week I was out of commission I religiously checked the ice conditions web site. A few places were still listed as "tres bonne", so I convinced Farmer and Dylan to go in search of the last bits of ice.

View More Photos from Dawn's Trip

By Dawn Glanc

It was one week after my accident that I went out climbing again. I still had a black eye and a lot of swelling in my left forearm. After being smashed in the face by a large piece of ice, my climbing head was a bit frazzled. For my first day back in my harness I went to the practice boulder just down the valley from La Grave. The boulder is about 15 meters tall and just about everything is a top-roped dry tool route. It is a fun area to climb. The routes have logs bolted to the walls and logs hanging from the walls as well. It is an intriguing area, like a jungle gym was to all of us when we were kids. I was full of mixed emotions as I approached our objective.

I tied in to our warm-up route and looked up at the challenge ahead with anxiety and pure fear racing through my system. The moments of the accident ran through my mind. The sounds of falling ice and the feelings of blood rolling down my cheek came back to me as if everything was happening all over again. I took a deep breath and turned to Farmer and said, "you got me, are you ready?" He answered with an encouraging "on belay" and I placed my ice tools onto the rock. I took a deep breath and made the first opening moves. My heart was pounding. My forearms instantly began to pump as I over gripped my ice tools. I began an inner dialogue to help myself cope. "Relax," I told myself, "you can do this." As I made each move I was terrified of something going wrong. "You're on top rope" I reassured myself, "breathe." After a long 15-meter battle I made it to the anchor mentally exhausted. My first big step was over and I was glad that it was.

As I lowered back to the ground, I fought back my tears.

Click Here to View More Pictures

By Julia Niles

It was all set. I had printed my itinerary, finished my last round of shots, and packed my bags. I was about to embark on a lifelong dream to travel and climb in Africa when I received this email from my brother:

"Hi Jule, I just wanted to make sure you know about S. Africa right now. 50 murders a day. Lots of car hijackings, with fatalities often. Muggings, etc... Be careful if you're still going. I don't think I'd advise it to anyone. Love, -M"

He forwarded this information to the rest of my family, so there were many more statistics swimming in my head upon arrival at the Johannesburg airport. Between HIV, malaria, violent crime, and the puff-adder, I couldn't figure out how everyone seemed so normal and relaxed. I wandered the airport waiting for Majka, another American mountain guide to pick me up, or for "Q" our photographer I had yet to meet to arrive by plane. Since Majka did not seem to be picking me up, I ruminated on the fact that I really did not know if Q would show up either. I tried to quell the panic that arose from the rare lack of laptop and cell phone. My own thoughts began to amuse me when I noticed people using the ATM's without being robbed.

Q finally arrived- only two and a half hours late. It turns out that Majka e-mailed details about how to get a cab to where she was staying just after I went to bed the night before leaving the country. She had also tried to send a text message with her phone number- but it never went through. So with great relief, I settled into the backseat of the cab with Q on our way to our hosts' abode.

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.

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.

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.

View Malcolm's Pix on Flickr

By Malcolm Kent

25th Jan, 2008

It's been a tricky last couple of weeks travelling and climbing around Colorado. Tricky because I've spent most of the time trying to avoid illness. However this hasn't really gone to plan and for a number of days, illness has got the better of me. New week, new area and in this case a new country. So hopefully this will mean I can give the virus a kick up the back side.

This is our last day in the Vail area. I'll be honest, as climbers we're firmly in the minority. This is the skier/snowboarder home. Within a short drive is Breckenridge, Vail, Copper and Keystone. Again today the snow has dumped, a total bonus for people carving turns through the self raising flour, but a catalyst for four-letter profanity if your trying to wade your way up to the crag.

This is the most money we've spent on the trip so far and has made us understand just how great Ouray really is. It's a total climber's paradise and great value too. But equally there's no way that a mixed climbing trip to Colorado could be completed without stopping at the place where it all kicked off.

By Jon Bowermaster

January 21, 2008 - Our journey south ended at 67 degrees latitude amidst a thick jumble of pack ice at the southern end of Crystal Sound. Our hope had been to continue south through one of two narrow channels - known collectively as The Gullet - and on to Marguerite Bay. Though we tried to nose our kayaks through the ice, following increasingly narrow chutes of water until they dead-ended in even more ice, it was quickly clear this would be our turnaround spot. To celebrate we pull the kayaks up onto a football field-sized sheet of ice and introduce ourselves to its other resident, a 400-pound leopard seal dozing peacefully mid-floe.

Our other option, besides slowly heading back north, is to sail out and around Adelaide Island, towards the British base at Rothera, to reach our hoped-for goal of Blailock Island. But after two long team meetings - one with the crew of the "Pelagic Australis," the other with my team - we opt to stay where we are for a couple more days, to profit from the incredibly beautiful weather which will certainly end soon and to avoid spending three full days at sail.

View More Photographs from the Antarctica 2008 Expedition

By Jon Bowermaster

JANUARY 12, 2008 -- We are headed down the western edge of the Antarctic Peninsula, our hope to spend the month in the Weddell Sea dashed by an unusual abundance of thick pack ice, especially unusual for this late in the austral summer season.

Instead we will travel, by kayak and sail, up around the tip of the Peninsula then southwards down its western edge hopefully getting 500 miles or so, and a degree or two below the Antarctic Circle. While the Weddell Sea side is stark, remote and foreboding, the western edge is big, beautiful, offering all the classic Antarctic scenery plus every one of its marine wildlife - seals, whales, penguins and birds. Which is proven one of our first nights out, in the Gerlache Strait, when we pass first a pair of surfacing humpback whales, then another trio of the big guys and in the near background several small groups of Orca, or killer whales. The sea is perfectly calm and they are feeding, rising to the surface, diving and - seemingly unperturbed by our presence -- in essence showing off for us.

Malcolm and his crew sent us a selection of photos from Ouray. Climbing had photographs of girls partying. We bring you photos of deer chowing, and Malcolm shopping at the grocery store. We think we're pretty darn classy, don't you?

View more photos on our Flickr site.

By Malcolm Kent

103.2fm, Ouray subliminal cuts 24-7. Crazy that you can drive 6 hours through blizzards to a tiny little town in the San Juan mountains of southern Colorado and then find the radio 'seek' engaging the best radio station you've ever heard in your life. Another day goes by, with another drive out to the evening's entertainment and yet again another seemlingly unflappable mix of high quality tunes eminate from this station. There's no way this can be anything other than one guy in his bedroom knocking out tracks in a pirate fashion. But the smoothness just goes on. No doubt - this fella must have one hell of an mp3 collection.

Every trip I've ever done to Ouray has always had a number of common threads. Things like beautiful photographs, clear blue sky days, hot tubbing and of course eating and drinking at the 'Bien'. But during the legendary ice festival, you sit in the 'Bien' necking margaritas alongside Ines Papert and Steve House. In fact if you're like us, you get to sleep in the room next to Guy Lacelle (who apparently hates people making too much noise). This is the first year that I've been in town for the week of the 'Fest' and now I look back on it, I'm made up that we made it out and decided to get involved. Quite often with ice trips, the motivation to get out of bed early in the morning and subject yourself to freezing temperatures, spin-drift and falling ice can run low pretty quickly. When you're staying in Ouray though, it's so much easier. The walk-in is barely measurable, the ice is encapsulating with 'bomber' anchors everywhere and the locals are totally welcoming. If you're British and a tight-arse though, it'll be the value for money and the exchange rate that will really float your boat.

By Malcolm Kent

8 to 12 inches tonight. And I'm talking about the weather here. The reports for the southern Colorado region say that this much snow is likely to fall before tomorrow morning. As Guy Lacelle paces around the breakfast room to check out which new ice climbers have arrived in town, I ponder on how much snowfall is required in order to stop the 13th Annual Ouray Ice Fest.

It's been something of mission to make it across the pond this time. After flight delays, cancellations and some seriously intense blizzard driving in the pitch black darkness. Team Leashless breathed a sigh of relief on arrival at the now regulation Victorian Inn. This trip is for sure already feeling really different to any previous winter trips I've ever done. During our travels across the state we dropped in on a local climbing store, where Kat (my partner) discovered 25 bucks in the pocket of the cords she bought. Result. Now that's never happen on a trip before. This time we have a really solid team and it's definitely a bit weird to be thinking about the next 70 days of continuous climbing.

Today we head out to the Troglodyte Cave to begin training for the upcoming competition. Fingers crossed the snow calms down soon and we get some crisp ice conditions.

By Jon Bowermaster

New Year's Eve, 2007, Puerto Williams, Chile (the southernmost town in the world)

We are off for Antarctica tomorrow and wanted to say thanks once again for all of your help and support! It is a cliche, but it is also true: We couldn't do this without you!

Be sure and tune into the website for Dispatches from the Ice, starting...today!

To find those Dispatches, point your browser to www.jonbowermaster.com or www.Antarctica2008.com

From time to time, our readers pitch us a story that we can't refuse. Just before Christmas, the Scottish climber Malcolm Kent offered to write a series of posts for us, detailing a season of winter climbing. Malcolm's three month (!) trip will take him across North America, and then an airplane will ferry him back to Europe for more climbing in the Alps. That is, if the weather permits, and we all know that the weather has been just a tad unreliable these days.

Along the way, Malcolm will compete at Ouray and at the Ice World Cup in Sass Fe. As a member of th