Wordless Wednesday :: Frosty Morning

Albion, Indiana ~ January 20, ..
Copyright © .. by Rebeckah R. Wiseman

Merry Merry

Christmas for us means brunch at Mom and Dad’s. People who have had that breakfast have a hard time not coming back, even if they have moved on from our family. Mom turns out several varieties of eggs, creamed chipped beef, sausages, potatoes, chocolate muffins and an infamous pecan cinnamon coffee cake which can induce riots in the buffet line. This year we added three sailors since my niece joined the Navy and was married over Thanksgiving. It was probably our first and last Christmas for some time with the fleet, as my niece is being assigned to Japan, and her husband will hopefully soon join her.

My eldest brother is the juice and coffee steward. My other brother mans the scrambled eggs, and due to the bigger crowd we consumed over 4 dozen this year. My sister in law did the seating arrangements, and thanks to her, there were no fights. I was recovering from a stomach bug so I lay low as the swarms of children buzzed around.

Christmas used to mean trimming the tree on Christmas Eve, dating back to the times when Dad would wait until the tree sellers on Mass Ave had packed it in for the season. After they turned the lights off, he’d go over to the lots and root around in the dark. Sometimes the trees would be straggly and sometimes they would be OK, but he never knew what he had until he got home. Then, one year, when things were good, he grandly ordered a tree from Friendship Florist, and it was the worst tree EVER, so he never did that again. By the time I came along, he was no longer liberating leftovers. Instead, I remember going to the Florida Avenue Market, and Dad would haggle with the vendors. I always had to pretend like I could care less about a tree, and be prepared to walk away and hang out at the ash can fire if the deal didn’t turn out, but we always went home with one, much to my relief.

A quick survey finds 1941 to be a favorite Christmas. It was the first year they had bought a home of their own in River Terrace. There was a live Cocker Spaniel puppy under the tree in a box. And a Lionel train with real smoke. My mom and sister had matching red velvet dresses which my mother had made by a dress maker instead of having to do them herself. Plus, my mother says it was the last year you could actually get everything you wanted before the rationing of World War Two got underway.

Another favorite was around 1939. That was the first year that Dad’s parents let him bring his non-Greek wife to Christmas at their place on Macomb Street. Dad remembers giving his father seat covers for his car. Papou thought they were blankets and tried to wear one.

The family has always had a Christmas party at Yiya’s and Papou’s house. My brother remembers they had a table top tree which he thought was a bit skimpy, but they lived in an apartment. I remember when they lived on Upton Street. Back then the Post Office that is there now was a Safeway, and I always admired my grandmother for keeping a grocery cart in her front yard. I also remember they'd gotten an aluminum Christmas tree, which eliminated any midnight runs to tree lots.

Now my Dad is the Papou of the family. He has eleven grandchildren and seven greats, and although it’s not as traumatic as Thanksgiving, they still put on a tree trimming party AND the world famous brunch Christmas morning. This year with the fleet, there were twenty six of us grateful pilgrims singing "Anchors Away". Once again I have to say thanks. Hope everyone had as good a holiday as we did.

Toronto Calling

My e-pal Stewart Reynolds has a dilemma. His band, Brittlestar (fantastic, by the way) wants to play the legendary Horseshoe Tavern in Toronto.

They have an opportunity, but the only catch is that it's on a Monday night (Nov 21st). And they need to be able to draw at least 50 people. (Which is 38 more than Sting played to, when The Police played their first Toronto show there, according to Stewart.)

I think I have a few readers in the Toronto area, so if you think you might be interested in going, let me know and I can pass along the info.

End of blog-o-mercial!

---

P.S. I saw The Police during the Synchronicity tour on 8 November 1983. They played a note so low that I felt it vibrating in my bones. I went to the concert with the man who is now my husband. (There were a few more than 12 people there.)

---
Update:
Brittlestar is now booked to play the Horseshoe Tavern in Toronto on Nov 21st at 9:30pm. Go see 'em!

Front Loads: What's Your Take?

We were photographing an ANT bicycle in our studio last weekend, and afterward I took it out for a quick spin. This ANT was a cro-moly Lady Roadster with an enormous front rack and basket. Looking at the bike, I was anticipating how it was going to feel riding with that set-up, and based on my experiences with similarly equipped city bikes I did not think I'd enjoy it. Typically, when a bike has a large, front-mounted basket or crate, I find the front end to be somewhat unwieldy even when the basket is empty; I have a harder time than usual keeping the front wheel stable at slow speeds, and even when walking the bike, the front end sort of tends to wander.





However, the ANT bike did not have this problem, and I pretty much forgot about the basket as soon as I got on. This is similar to how I feel about the large rack-mounted handlebar bag on my Rivendell, but again these are the exceptions rather than the norm. Normally I dislike front loads. So what is special about the ANT and the Rivendell compared to other bicycles I've tried with similar set-ups? Some say that low trail geometry works well for front loads, but neither of these bikes is low trail.





Others say that it has to do with how the weight is supported.The ANT front rack is secured to the fork at the front axle and at the fork crown, which certainly makes it stable. However, I have tried other bikes with racks secured both to the fork and to the frame itself, and some of those have felt awkward. Stable in the sense that they don't sway, sure - but still awkward as far as the handling of the bicycle goes. It almost seems random - a hit or miss sort of thing, wherebyANT and Rivendell just happen to have stumbled on a geometry that works with front loads.





Oh, I give up! The more I learn about bicycle geometry, the more I realise that I don't really know anything. But having tried this ANT,I am considering experimenting with a front load on one of my transportation bicycles again. What has been your experience - have you noticed any patterns as far as which front load set-ups work and which do not?

Happy Ground Hog day! Kinzua klimbing and A day at the Cliffs

Wow... Its looking miserable outside today. Yesterday we had temps in the mid 30's and rain. The forcast was calling for a couple mild days this week. Well mild was an understatement for the start of today. I went out on the deck and it felt like spring. Sunny and 45°. The Weather channel is saying the temps are going to fall into the mid 20's and that it'll be snowing by this afternoon. I sure hope they're right. The last 48hrs most likely put a hurting on the mixed lines I've been working on as well as the ice routes I've been patiently waiting to see come into shape. I'm keeping my fingers crossed. I'll try to head out tomorrow to scope the damages. I'm sure a fresh coating of snow will make things feels wintry again. If winter comes to a screeching halt we can all blame that HOG up in Punxy for not seeing his shadow. Well enough about the weather. On to our recent climbing adventures.

The dam located directly across from the climbing

Friday Jan. 28thLaura and I decided to take a short road trip up to Kinzua to climb. The climbing there is mostly casual with WI3 being the common grade. Usually its a great place for beginning leaders to cut their teeth on the sharp end. It was the location of my first ice climbing experience about 14 years ago. I've been at it ever since that first outing. In that respect Kinzua will always be a memorable place for me to visit. Laura had never been there, so we loaded up the climbingmobile and set off at 6:00am friday for the 3.5hr drive north. The drive went smooth considering the snow storm we drove in most of the way. Upon arrival, I was slightly disappointed to see the ice much thinner than what I had climbed in years past. I havn't been there in quite a few years, but every other tip I've made to Kinzua has provided FAT,blue flows. It was a real bummer since the trip was mostly for Laura to get in a bunch of time leading. Instead we pondered over which line was filled in most of the way. I could see rock through the clear ice as well as hear large amounts of running water. Seeing the ice in this current state, I decided to take the lead and check things out before Laura went up. I climbed the line directly across from the Entrance to the first parking lot. Its generally a low angle steeped WI3 with great protection. It took some searching to get in a few 13cm screws that were actually going to do something. As I climbed I could look down into the large holes and see the rock and water underneath. I reached to top and setup the belay to bring Laura up to the trees. She climbed up using her new BD Fusion ice tools. It wasn't much of a route to put them to use on, but she seemed to like them. I brought along some 8mm cord and rap rings to contribute to the local climbing community based on a post on NEice.com about the anchors being ratty and in need of replacement. I set up a station on a large tree up and left of the top out. Heres a photo of the new station and the climb.

Our first climb. Unusually thin compared to what I've typically seen here

Laura coming up the first climb we did

Laura seconding with trucks rumbling below.

Notice our car in the lot? Worlds easiest approach!

Our second climb was to the right of the first one. It was in the little alcove. It went up the low angle start and up to a short pillar. The ice on this route was better up on the pillar, but the bottom was still somewhat hollow and not well formed. I took the line over right above the exposed rock section and belayed/rapped from there.

Laura tooling on the second climb we did.

(The steepest we could find)

Coming up onto the belay of the 2nd climb

Well it only took two climbs and we decided to head back home to better conditions. We'll have to make another trip someday when things are more "in". All in all it was a nice quick revisit the moderates of Kinzua. will I do it again this season? Most likely not with the way conditions have been at home. There's always next season!





Sunday Jan. 30th. Laura was out for the day and I made plans with Dr. Bob to climb at the cliffs. Joel and Matt were already in town and were staying in Ohiopyle. They climbed Saturday at Upper Meadow where I guess quite a display of climbing went on. I wasn't there, but it sounded good. Anyhow... Sunday morning came and I drove to the parking area of the cliffs. It was snowed in and I did some shoveling to make parking better for those involved in the days antics. I was getting ready to hike in when Dr. Bob showed up. We split the ropes and made our way in. Dr. Bob is one of my oldest ice climbing friends. Due to life, etc. I haven't had the opportunity to spend much time on the rope with him recently as I have in the past. Bob and I decided to warm up on Called on Account of Security WI4. It was in great shape. A little new snow and some onion skin made climbing a little more interesting, but all in all it was in the best conditions I've ever seen. I led the pitch and belayed Bob from the top to shoot some pics on my new camera. Here are a few of the shots.

Dr Bob coming up Called on Account of Security WI4

Dr Bob doing work!

For our second route we decided to climb G-Gully WI4+/5- It was one of the driest routes we saw. The climb went well. It was much better than last season when we did the FFA. Bob commented many times how he enjoyed the 3D climbing that the route offered. Here's a few shots of Bob cleaning.

Bob cleaning G-Gully WI4+

Joel and Matt showed up a little later than expected. They had spend the evening before getting familiarized with life in Ohiopyle. Here's a photo of Joel upon arrival at the cliffs. Needless to say there's not much to report on their activities of the day. Matt was the lone climber taking a lap on G-Gully before hiking out.

Feeling a little fuzzy Joel?

Overall there was a lot of running water and things were building fast. The Beast WI5+ was in the process of making a rare appearance. Albeit with massive amounts of water flowing down it. I hope the weather didn't take too much of a toll on it.

The Beast about touching down for the 2nd year in a row!

On the last day of season (last year), Laura and I went on an early morning mission to climb it before the day warmed to well above freezing, but were turned back by the stupidity of forgetting our ropes. It WAS just about ready for the 2nd time in 5 or 6 years... Until today's rain. With any luck the it will be climbable and I'll finally get to climb it. If not there's still lots of mixed climbs out there begging to be climbed. We'll see what the weekend holds.

Overall conditions photo from Sunday

Dreaming of Balance

Last time I was on a roadbike, I crashed into a tree with my knee. It was one of those milky winter afternoons - the trees a stark black, the ground a soiled white, and the sky a bruise lilac. And it was cold, cold, cold - each breath turning into a patch of fog in front of my face. On afternoons like this, I get a rush from the feeling of being out in the middle of nowhere, wandering through the woods on my own. I was riding the Honey cyclocross bike, its toy-like handling accentuating my high. Hopping, successfully, over a cluster of tree roots, I let out a giddy squeal. It resonated through the empty woods like a metallic ring. As if in reply, I heard the shrill sound of a bird somewhere in the distance. Marco! Polo! Ours were the only voices in the woods.



Before turning home, I ventured onto a snow-sprinkled path and began to navigate its gentle winds. And that was when it happened. I hit an icy patch and the bike slid in an unexpected direction as I tried to steer it around the bend. I ended up in the trees, my hands clutching the bike to keep it from hitting the ground and my right knee jammed into some dry mossy bark.



I experienced this event as more of an unplanned stop than a crash. It was non-traumatic, and did not feel noteworthy enough to write about at the time. I only remember it now, because I dreamt about it last night. Not the crash, but the ride leading up to it.



In my dream I was practicing leaning the bike this way and that using my hips, while moving in a zig-zag fashion along the frozen trail. The sensation of balancing as I did this was unusually, remarkably vivid - more vivid even than the beauty of the winter landscape. The dream went on and on as I felt my weight shift with each change of direction.



I woke up disoriented, wondering why I was horizontal and where the bike was. Had I managed to crash again? Then the moment came when I realised it had all been a dream, and a wave of disappointment washed over me. I wanted to be as in touch with my body's sense of balance in real life as I was in the dream.



The bruises lived on my knee for about a week after the tree's embrace, but now all trace of them is gone. It is purely incidental that I haven't ridden the bike since it happened. We've had some heavy snowfall, and then I got sick. I am still weak, but the dream made it feel imperative that I go out and try to recreate the balancing act. Perhaps spring is coming, at last.

Gunks Routes: V-3 (5.7), Limelight (5.7), Arrow (5.8) & Horseman (5.5)

(Photo: Starting up V-3. Right here there's this one little reachy move. This move has given me a moment's pause both of the times I've led the route.)



This past weekend I played tour guide at the Gunks.



I was climbing with Deepak and Chin, two climbers I know from Brooklyn Boulders. They had little trad experience and wanted me to show them what trad climbing in the Gunks is all about. They knew how to belay and they'd been outside to climb, even followed a few trad pitches before, but had never rappelled or done a multi-pitch route.



If you wanted to introduce someone to the Gunks, which climbs would you choose?



I wanted the climbs to be classics. I wanted them to be interesting, and unlike the gym experience.



I thought V-3 (5.7) might be a nice place to start. It has a short first pitch, with a good crux that is totally unlike any gym climb. You have to use your body to get into the v-notch at the top of the pitch, and then you have to figure out how to get out of the notch to finish the climb. I was sure Deepak and Chin would have no trouble climbing the route, and I hoped that it would convert them to the way of the tradster, forever changing their view of the outdoor experience vs. indoor pulling on plastic.



My plan was that I would lead the pitch and stay at the top, bringing them both up.Once we were all there at the belayI could set them up to rappel, instruct them,then lower myself to the ground and give each of them a fireman's belay for their rappels. (A fireman's belay involves simply holding the rope while a person rappels. In the unlikely event thatthe rappeller loses control of the rap, the belayer pulls hard on the ropes, which stops them from going through the rappeller's device.)



I figured that if the climbing and rappelling on V-3 went well, we could then go do some multi-pitch climbs on the Arrow wall. But if Deepak and Chin were not into doing a multi-pitch climb after V-3, we could do any of a number of good moderate first pitches that were close by, like Alley Oop or Cakewalk.









(Photo: Getting up to the notch on V-3 (5.7).)




Everything went according to plan, at first. I led the pitch and liked it even more than I did last year. It isn't just about the v-notch. There are some good moves right at the start and just underneath the notch. The notch itself is fun, of course, and well protected.




Chin followed me up and seemed to do well with the climbing.









(Photo: Chin making the final moves out of the notch on V-3.)




But it was hot and sunny at the belay station, and as Deepak came up to join us Chin seemed to wilt in the heat. She told me she felt like she might pass out.




Oh no! This was not good. It had happened to me once before. But that time I'd been in the middle of leading a pitch when my partner Liz said she felt faint. That was a hairier situation. This time around we were both securely fastened to a bolted anchor, so there was nothing really to worry about. Still I wanted to get her to the ground where there was shade and water as soon as possible.




Luckily Deepak was just about at the anchor so when he arrived I lowered Chin to the ground. She didn't pass out and felt better almost as soon as she got down. Once I knew she was okay I set Deepak up to rappel and then we both descended. Deepak rappelled like a pro.




I thought we might be done after just one pitch but to my surprise both Chin and Deepak wanted to continue. Chin was okay with single-pitch climbing but Deepak wanted to go above one pitch if he could. I decided to take them up Limelight (5.7) and Arrow (5.8). I would have Chin follow the first pitch of each, then lower her. Then I'd bring Deepak up and continue with the upper pitches.




I had done the second pitches of both climbs as recently as last year, but I hadn't been on the first pitch of either one since . I remembered the first pitches as being unremarkable. And it is true, neither climb's first pitch is as great as the second.




But Limelight's first pitch isn't bad at all. It is quite nice. It has consistent climbing at an easy 5.6- level, with some interesting moves around the flakes at the top of the pitch. It is well-protected once you get going, but it takes while for the pro to appear right after you leave the ground.









(Photo: Relaxing atop Limelight (5.7), waitingto usethe rappel station.)




Limelight's second pitch is one of my favorites. There is one hazard I want to warn you about. I think this is a recent development. There is a very loose block just to your right as you get above the GT Ledge and onto the upper wall. The climbing here is quite easy-- this is a ways below the Limelight flake-- so the block is not hard to avoid. But I think I have placed gear behind this block in the past. This time, when it easily moved as soon as I touched it, I placed nothing in its vicinity, causing a bit of a runout.




Once you reach the unique Limelight flake, the awesomeness begins. It looks so thin. It is hard to believe the edges of this flake will be as positive as they are. But once you commit to the big move to get on top of the flake, the hands and feet are all there. Beautiful, delicate climbing takes you up past a pin to the rooflet, and then a few thin steps take you left to the finishing jugs. Along the way the pro is good. The flake will take small nuts pretty much anywhere, and there are downward-facing slots for cams on the traverse.









(Photo: Deepak following me up the 5.6 first pitch of Arrow.)




Arrow's first pitch is not as nice as Limelight's. There's nothing really interesting about it. The second pitch is wonderful, though. A fun easy roof leads to great face climbing on marble-like white rock past two bolts.




Arrow was my first 5.8 lead back in , and when I look back I'm not quite sure how I managed it, since I still find the crux move considerably harder than 5.8, even though I've led it three times now. I've gone to the left at the top bolt every time, because going to the right seems impossible. Even now that I have my strategy set in advance I find it challenging to commit and execute it. I'm still psyched that I somehow got it onsight. I don't want to spoil it so I won't tell you about the mantel/reach-through maneuver that I do...




Oops, I let it slip out there.




I did one thing differently this time that I'd never done before: I placed pro twice between the bolts. There are some thin cracks that will take pretty solid small Aliens. As I placed the second piece, which was just a few feet below the second bolt, it suddenly occurred to me that these bolts are bullshit. They are unnecessary; the pro isn't that bad without them. I resolved to come back to do a "fair means" ascent of Arrow, without clipping the bolts. Then after my perfect, truly free ascent of this compromised route I would have license to chop the the bolts on rappel, returning the climb to its natural state for the greater good and the glory of trad climbers everywhere.




I am kidding, of course. I don't think that would go over too well.




Maybe I'm 60% kidding.




It would be kind of neat to climb it without clipping the bolts. I might try it some time. I'm sure I wouldn't be the first.Heck, I'm suresomeone has free soloed the routewearing sneakers, in the rain.




Chin and Deepak both had no troubleclimbing Limelight and Arrow, and Chin in particular wanted to do at least one more climb. I felt a little bad that she'd missed out on the upper pitches of the climbs. So I proposed we finish with Horseman (5.5), a climb thatis traditionally two pitches. We could do it in one pitch (as most people do these days), but Chin could count it as two, and she'd get to top out on the cliff.




Luckily we found it open and finished up with another great classic. I love Horseman because it introduces you toso much of whatthe Gunks is about. You get thin face climbing, followed by a fun dihedral, a traverse to avoid a roof, and then steep juggy climbing to the top.




I don't know how many times I've climbed Horseman. On Sunday it was a joy. As I reached the end of the climb, I thought about how lucky I was that Chin and Deepak had asked me to show them around. The climbs we did together weren't projects of mine, and I wouldn't have chosen them if I'd been out with one of my usual partners. But climbing them was like being reunited with old friends.




There's something to be said for cruising up old favorites. It isa lot offun.

DZnuts for the Ladies?

One discovery I have made in my attempts to battle roadbike discomforts is a product called DZnuts. This is a chamois cream that promises to "protect your junk" from chafing, irritation and infections that can occur during long distance cycling on a roadbike. This stuff is sold in most bike shops, branded as a men's product. So I present it here surrounded by lavender and a cup of herbal tea to indicate that it also works for ladies.



If you are wondering for what purpose you would possibly need something like this, then you probably do not need it. But if leaning forward on your saddle for hours rubs you the wrong way, then you know what I speak of. Oh I know it is a delicate topic, and I assure you that I blush and swoon at my own impropriety even as I write this, but somebody had to address it. So yes: DZnuts helps against that. The cream both alleviates the pain if you've already hurt yourself, and will prevent it from happening in the first place if applied before the ride. If they come up with a better product that is women-specific, that would be wonderful. Until then, DZnuts it is.

A Day in the Picos de Europa: Espolon del Agero ("Agero Spur"), 6a (5.10a)

(Photo: Mount Agero, seen here in the afternoon after the morning fog cleared away.)



It has been several years since I've used a guide for clmbing.



My experiences with guides have always been very professional, educational and satisfying. But these experiences were all in the United States. And the guides spoke the same language I did.



Last week in Spain, in the Picos de Europa, I didn't know whether I could expect the same sort of experience.



I had never planned on climbing there. The Picos were not a part of my climbing dreams. Until recently I'd never heard of these mountains. They are largely unknown to American climbers.



Oddly enough, my wife Robin made it happen. She'd planned a family vacation in Northwest Spain for the whole family: the two of us plus the kids. I was passively, notionally involved but really I left the details to her. She picked the locations in Galicia where we'd spend the first week of our trip. As she looked into Asturias and learned about the Picos de Europa, she knew we'd love the place and decided we should spend several days in the region. She wanted us to go hiking in the area as a foursome, which we did. (It is a hiker's paradise.) But she also planned things so I could take one day apart from the family and go rock climbing on my own. I don't know many non-climbing spouses who would do something like that. That's just the kind of generous person she is!



In the months leading up to the trip, I looked into finding a climbing partner in the Picos. There weren't many resources (in English) for finding a climbing partner. I did some web searches but did not stumble on any guide services with English-language web sites. I posted queries on both rockclimbing.com and mountainproject forums but got no responses, either about potential partners or a guide.



Eventually I decided I would just find a way to hire someone. This would be simpler-- I wouldn't have to bring much, just my harness, shoes and helmet. It was unlikely I'd find a partner for just the one day any other way. I asked my old partner Greg about the guides I knew he'd used when he was in Chamonix. He put me in touch with a reputable guide, an American that he'd used over in Europe. Greg's guide wasn't planning on being anywhere near the Picos in August but he put me in touch with Kjeld Andreasen, who co-founded a service called ATG out there that offers guiding not just for climbing, but also caving, rafting, mountain biking, and other adventure sports.



Kjeld immediately contacted me by email and when I told him I was looking for long mountain trad routes in the 5.9 to 5.10 range he said, in perfect English, that he knew exactly what I was looking for and that I would love the Picos.



As the appointed day approached my biggest worry was the weather. We'd had a mix of rainy and sunny days in Galicia and temperatures that were a little cool for August. On the day before my planned climbing day, we'd arrived at our hotel in Arenas de Cabrales to find overcast skies and mountains shrouded in a damp fog. We'd gone ahead and done an afternoon hike with the kids despite the weather, and been immediately amazed at the beauty of these mountains. We were instantly in love with the Picos, even in the fog.



That night I spoke to Kjeld. He had hoped to take me out personally, but he had bad news: he had just broken his ankle in a motorcycle race.



But I was not to worry, he told me. He had set me up with one of ATG's guides, Fernando Zamora. He said Fernando spoke English well, and that they had talked about good routes for me. Fernando knew what I was looking for and had a few options in mind, one of which was easier, and the other more difficult, depending on how “eager” and “enthusiastic” I was. Then Kjeld chuckled. I wasn’t sure what to make of the chuckle.



I told him I was well known for my enthusiasm.



The next day dawned sunny and bright, although with fog still surrounding many peaks. It was much clearer than the day before, giving Robin and me our first real look at the full beauty of the Picos. We drove to the appointed meeting place in Potes and marveled at the giant formations so close to us on either side of the road. The forecast still called for potential rain in the afternoon, but I was hopeful I could get a good day in. (We learned over the course of our stay that the weather forecast is pretty meaningless in the Picos.)



We met up with Fernando at 9 a.m. in a parking lot in the middle of Potes, where we learned his English wasn’t really so hot. But as Robin told him (in her broken Spanish), his English was surely much better than my Spanish! I’m terrible with languages. After a week in Spain I could still barely order coffee or beer.



Fernando told us in a mixture of Spanish and English that he thought we’d have a good day, but that we should do routes not too far up in elevation, because of the potential for bad weather later in the afternoon. It seemed very reasonable to me. He told Robin to expect us back in the lot about 4 p.m., and then we were off.



On the way to the climb, Fernando and I communicated to the extent we could about my climbing history. I realized after a few questions that he was trying to figure out what I was capable of. He asked me how long I’d been climbing (5 years), and if I had any experience with long mountain routes (a little but not much). Eventually, and I don’t know how this happened, he got the idea that I knew what I was doing and that he could take a chance on me. He told me he’d been planning to take me up a very nice, long route that is pretty easy, but that he’d changed his mind and decided to take me up a similarly long route that is even nicer, but also harder. He said it was rated 6a, which I later learned is considered equivalent to the American/YDS grade of 5.10a. At the time, I didn’t know what 6a meant, but I told him I was game to try whatever route he wanted.



We drove about 8 kilometers north out of Potes, to where Route 621 crosses the Deva river and the first sign for the town of Lebena appears. Suddenly Fernando turned to me and said “This car, it is good.”



Before I had time to wonder why he was telling me this, he turned off onto an extremely steep, narrow road that headed upward towards a large mountain (which I later learned is called Agero) sitting directly above Lebena. The pavement soon ended, and the road turned to dirt. It seemed our first thrills were going to come on the drive up. After a week in Spain I’d become accustomed to driving on narrow, curvy roads, but this one was crazy, barely wider than his small pickup, twisting and turning past tiny farms and houses. I couldn’t imagine driving on this road myself, and it’s unlikely I could ever find my way again on it even if I were willing to. Fernando made several sudden turns at various unmarked tiny intersections, going ever upward towards the mountain. Suddenly a gravel parking area, big enough for two cars, appeared. He gingerly found a way to squeeze his truck into the second space.



We had arrived. Fernando told me that by braving this road we’d saved ourselves an hour of hiking.





(Photo: Agero upon our arrival at the base, shrouded in fog.)



He instructed me to put my harness on at the truck. I had brought a small Camelback pack with water and a little food but Fernando told me he preferred it if I left all that behind. He handed me an even smaller water pack (cyclist size) that he wished me to carry.



For his part, he carried a rack of only 6 cams (Camalots .4 through # 2, plus a yellow Alien) and a similar number of quick draws/shoulder-length slings. That’s it. Nothing else. No nuts, nada. A couple locking carabiners. I have long known guides to carry less gear than the rest of us, but still I was surprised at just how little Fernando was bringing.



The mountain was right across the road from the tiny parking area. I thought we had arrived at the base of our climb, and I tried to engage Fernando in a discussion about belay commands. But he told me this wasn’t necessary, since we weren’t using the ropes just yet. Then he started up the rock, and I realized there was a cable attached to the rock heading upwards and to the right. This approach pitch was apparently going to be my first via ferrata. Fernando attached himself to the cable with a sling; I went ahead and used my Metolius PAS, with Fernando’s approval. It was hardly necessary, but there were a few exposed spots. Periodically, as he would throughout the day, he would ask me if I was "good," to make sure I was comfortable with whatever we were doing.





(Photo: Ascending the via ferrata approach pitch.)



After the via ferrata pitch we headed left for another approach pitch, this one probably third class, without any cable or need for one. It follows a faint trail up a dirt path with occasional rocks to the main wall of the formation.



We were already high above the towns in the valley, and finally ready for the first real pitch of climbing, on what I later learned is a classic 9-pitch (if you don’t count the two approach pitches) route called Espolon del Agero ("Agero Spur").



Fernando flaked the ropes (9 mm doubles) and talked to me about belay commands. He didn’t use the terminology I would use, but I understood what he wanted. He told me when he reached the end of the climbing he would say "open the system," and that I should not climb until he said "you go up!" In an effort to help his future business with English speakers, I tried to explain the terms "on belay" and "off belay," but I don’t think much of what I said got through. It didn’t matter. I knew what he meant and the system was the one I was comfortable with.





(Photo: At the crux of pitch one.)



He climbed the first pitch, telling me as he left that it is the hardest one on the route. He didn’t seem concerned with whether I could belay him properly. I soon learned this was because he didn’t really need much of a belay. He placed hardly any gear. In fact he probably soloed at least the first 60 feet, passing what I later found to be the first crux of the pitch without a single piece. Eventually he put in a piece and clipped a fixed piton (this route has lots of old pitons) before telling me he had reached the hardest section. Then he was quickly through it and it was my turn.





(Photo: Climbing pitch one.)



I was nervous. This was my first time climbing on limestone, and I didn’t know how it would feel. I also didn’t know what kind of hard climbing to expect. If we were talking about overhangs or a few thin face moves, I’d be right at home. If, on the other hand, I was going to be expected to climb a jam-crack for 100 feet or do a hard slab-climbing pitch, I could end up humiliated.



I needn’t have worried. The climbing felt very familiar to me.



The rock was featured with cracks, mostly vertical in orientation, but horizontal often enough for my taste. Lots of pockets as well. And the way the rock was formed was very Gunks-like in one respect: incredibly positive edges tended to form along the cracks. A steep face might appear impossible, but then a crack would turn out to provide the most awesome jug, sidepull or undercling. And I loved the texture of the limestone. It was so grippy, I felt I could put my toe on the smallest dimple; even rounded corners could form positive handholds.



I got through a couple 5.8-ish cruxy moments in the first pitch, shaking my head that Fernando had climbed through this same territory without placing any gear. Then I confronted the real crux of the pitch, a steep corner/slot with a finger crack at the back. I stood there, thinking of it as a test. If I could do these moves, Fernando would know I could do the whole climb. If I couldn‘t do them, what would happen? Would he try to pull me through it? Would we bail off the route and do something easier? Either of those possibilities was very unappealing.



The crack gave good finger locks. I placed the fingers of my right hand in one direction, my left in the other. Pulling outward in opposite directions (a move known as a Gaston but which I always think of as "forcing open an elevator"), I committed to moving my feet up, then got a better hold with my left hand. It was still steep, but then the holds improved. The crux moves were strenuous but the sequence was blissfully short. I got through it just fine.



When I arrived at the belay Fernando seemed overjoyed.



“You!” he said. “You are a professional! You are a very good climber!”



I was very happy, too. I had passed the test. I was also impressed at Fernando’s trust in me, a total stranger. He knew this was the type of climb I wanted, but he didn’t know ahead of time if it would work out well, or instead turn into an epic with a whiny, incapable client. He took a chance on me. He could easily have taken me up something easier and I wouldn’t have complained. Instead he gave me precisely what I’d asked for, a long route in the mountains at the upper limit of what I could do.



After this first pitch I relaxed completely. We were going to have a very good day.





(Photo: Fernando atop pitch one, with the fog already clearing.)



The rest of the climb unfolded smoothly.



Pitch two was an easier pitch up unremarkable territory.



Pitch three started out easy, but ended in another steep corner similar in size and difficulty to the one on the first pitch.





(Photo: Fernando shooting a photo of me from the end of the crux corner on pitch three.)



As we got higher, the day got clearer and hotter, and the peak, which was shrouded in fog at the start of our day, emerged into the bright sunshine.





(Photo: Emerging from the steep crux corner on pitch three.)



Despite what Fernando told me about the difficulties of pitch one, I later learned that pitches four and five are generally considered the crux 6a pitches of the route.





(Photo: Heading up the wide stemming section on pitch four.)



Pitch four is short, ascending a technical stem corner using wide-split legs. I thought it was really fun, but I didn’t think it was actually terribly demanding. I hate to be that guy who says "in the Gunks this wouldn’t be considered so hard," but in this one instance I am tempted. And let’s face it, I am that guy. I wanted to bring Fernando to the Trapps and have him climb Ants’ Line (5.9) or maybe Simple Stuff (5.10a, which I’ve never done), and ask him how he thinks they compare.





(Photo: Standing at the belay for pitch four.)



Pitch five was the actual crux for me, and on this particular day it seems it was for Fernando too. He did the early hard bit, ascending an arching crack which provides great hands but no footholds at all. Then he moved to the right onto the steep face and got to what looked like a committing layback move off a side-pull. He started to move up, grimaced and stepped down a couple times. This was the first time I’d seen him hesitate all day.



Then he called down and apologized, saying he was having trouble because he’d broken his hand a couple weeks before.



I quickly decided he couldn’t possibly mean what he’d just said. There was no way he was climbing on a broken hand. Right? (I figured out later that he believes he strained a tendon.)





(Photo: In the steep, exposed face-climbing on pitch five.)



Eventually he did the move and finished the pitch. It was my turn.



The early moves up the arching crack were tense. There really are no footholds at all for this rising traverse, but the texture of the limestone is so good, I felt my feet were stuck to the wall with glue. And Fernando had really done right by me, placing pro at reasonable intervals for my benefit along the traverse, the one place in the route it actually mattered. After this I got to the steep face, which Fernando had described to me as "impresionante." I didn’t know what he meant when he said it but as I made the moves I realized he'd meant "exposed." I was above a drop of several hundred feet.





(Photo: Belaying pitch five. Above me you can see the curving edge that is followed up and right, with smearing feet.)



I didn’t have any trouble with the sidepull Fernando had struggled with, but the holds above weren’t as good as I hoped they’d be. I still needed to move right and up to finish the pitch, and I suddenly felt for the first time all day that I was about to peel off. I was barely hanging on.



But I had to freeze when Fernando said "stop!"



I looked up, startled, to find he was pointing his camera at me. "Facebook!" he said.



Urg, not right now, I thought. I finished the pitch and the hard stuff was over.





(Photo: Belaying pitch six or seven.)



After two more easy pitches, the 5th class climbing was over as far as Fernando was concerned. For two full rope lengths to the top, Fernando instructed me to feed him the rope but told me not to put it through my belay device while he was climbing. He put me on some kind of body belay when I climbed each of these pitches behind him. Although he had climbed them without the benefit of a belay, I thought there were a handful of fifth class moves in these two pitches. Some people might not feel comfortable without a better belay, not to mention an anchor. I don’t know if the AMGA would have approved of Fernando’s approach to these final pitches, but I felt secure enough.



At the top we enjoyed the splendid view on what had turned into a gorgeous, sunny day. Fernando told me we’d finished more quickly than he’d expected by an hour, and he confirmed my suspicion that he’d really rolled the dice on me at the beginning. He said he’d normally never take someone on this route on his first day with that person. I guess something in our conversation had made him understand that I wouldn’t be a disaster for him, and that I’d really enjoy this route. I’m really grateful to both Fernando and Kjeld for giving me such a fine day in the mountains.













(Photos: On top of Agero.)



As I enjoyed the walk-off down the beautiful gully next to Agero I wondered if I’ll ever get back to the Picos. Before we left the area I bought the Adrados guidebook (which is in Spanish), a huge tome which contains select highlights of the region. I purchased it as both a souvenir and a motivator. If I look over it enough maybe I’ll stay motivated and find a way to come back some day.



And by then maybe I’ll learn how to order a beer in Spanish with confidence.







(Photos: Heading down.)

The La Sportiva Spantik

On the right, the Golden Pillar on Spantik

Love them or hate them the La Sportiva Spantik is without doubt one of the lightest double boots currently on the market. Although the new Scarpa 6000 should be a good competitor to that claim when it is available this fall. The Spantik was named after an amazingly beautiful mountain.

"This stunning ridge line is located on Spantik (7027m) in the Karakorum Range near the Hunza Valley, Baltistan in northern Pakistan. The route was first climbed in 1987 by an international team of mountaineers which included Victor Saunders and Mick Fowler, among others. Fowler’s photo of the arete highlights the extreme rock and ice climbing involved in their ascent. Spantik is considered one of the finest and hardest mountains in the world."

To purchase the photo look here:

http://www.topworldbooks.com/detail.aspx?s=24587

The boot's retail price currently is $700 but with some smart online shopping the going price over the last three years seems to be around $500.

The Spantik is exceptionally high tech. Unlike the typical double boot the Spantik is two distinct layers of insulation by design. In other words both the inner boot and the outer shell offer a certain degree of insulation. Not the first attempt at such technology but so far the most successful. That technology is what allows such a "small" profile boot to be so warm in comparison. "Small" might not be the right descriptor there as no question in any size the Spantik is a BIG boot. The innovative lacing system was designed to offer an easier system to use one handed or with gloves on. How well that was accomplished depends on the opinion of the end user. I find it hard to get the boot really laced tight across the instep when I want to cinch it down for harder climbing and eliminate heel lift. But I can, with some effort, get the lace system to work well enough even on my skinny ankles. But it doesn't eliminate the worry of a broken lace or eyelets. A better system? Not imo.

Here is the La Sportiva spiel :

"The Spantik is perfect for 6-7000 meter peaks or anywhere that you need a toasty warm performance fit. It is step-in crampon compatible and provides excellent technical climbing capabilities.

WEIGHT: 44.48 oz • 1261 g LAST: Nuptse CONSTRUCTION: Outer: Board Lasted Inner: Slip Lasted OUTER BOOT: PU-Tech transparent PU-coated embossed Benecke CeraCom® PUR leatherette/ Water-repellent Lorica® with Antiacqua™ external coating/ Vibram® rubber rand/ Molded TPU ankle backstay reinforcement/ PE micro-cellular thermal insulating closed cell foam lined with a thermo-reflective aluminum facing coated with an anti-abrasion flockingcoated with an anti-abrasion flocking INNER BOOT: Micro-perforated thermo-formable PE/ Water-repellent Lorica® with Antiacqua™ external coating INSOLE: 5mm thermal structure carbon fiber and aluminum insulation MIDSOLE: TPU/ Dual-density Micropore EVA SOLE: Vibram® Montagna"

Weight? Even in my size 45s aka 11.5 US you should be right at 5# for the pair. Which is very good.

"Step-in crampon compatible"? Well, may be not on every crampon. The Spantik has an extremely wide heel and getting some crampons to fit perfectly is a PITA. Trimming the heel on a grinder is one solution. Black Diamond Cyborgs, Grivel G12s and Petzl Dartwins with lever locks seem to fit with no hassles. The rest (and those I have listed as well) I would check first and not assume anything.

Besides the extra wide heel the Spantik has an extreme rocker on both ends of the boot sole which makes a perfect crampon fit a little tedious to accomplish with some/most 'pons. The intention was to add rocker to the boots so we could walk more naturally on easy ground




I am on my 3 season with the Spantik. And hard to believe but also on my fifth pair of boots! The first 3 I broke inner boot eyelets on. When you start playing with the inner and outer lace system you realise they are Spartan at best. Missing an eyelet might work in a pinch high on a winter wall but isn't a good sales point if they are breaking in your office or the parking lot at Lake Louise while just lacing up.

Thankfully breaking eyelets seems to be solved these days. My 4th pair I eventually realised were just too big. My suggestion now (and it has not always been this way) is buy the same size Spantik as you wear in all the Sportiva boot line. I seem to be a 45 across the board with Sportiva.

But the real reason I have a new pair of Spantiks is not that I think they are the end all double boot. Nor do I think they are the best technical double boot Sportiva builds...it is simply the lightest.

Palau's Inner boot web site:
http://www.palau-boutique.com

It was the French foam inner boot made by Palua for the the other La Sportiva double boot, the Baruntse, that made me think of trying the Spantik again. The Palua inner is truly heat formable by any good ski boot fitter and had given me an exceptional fit in the Baruntse. Which made me think, 1st, maybe I was buying Spantiks in too large of size and 2nd, that that same inner boot was lighter (than the Spantiks inner or a Intuition) and just might fit perfectly in a smaller size Spantik shell. Which in turn might make a wider array of crampons fit better.


I was right on all counts.

As a side note if anyone has had success with heat molding the original Spantik inner boots would you please post your thoughts and the details in the comments? While the Sportiva literature claims the Spantik liner is heat formable I don't know of anyone who has done it and I could not get Sportiva NA to give me any direction let alone written instructions. The expert boot fitters I showed the liners to refused to take on the job because of the worry of wrecking an expensive pair of inner boots....but had zero issues molding the simpler Baruntse liner or the Intuition liners with perfect results.

(update 4/28/10 I actually broke down and bought a high quality, professional heat gun and attempted to heat form my Spantik inner boots with almost ZERO success. I worked as a ski boot fitter at one time so not something I would suggest to everyone. Yes they fit a tiny bit better but there just isn't enough foam there to really get a custom fit. On the other hand my Baruntse inners, which do have enough foam, fit the Spantik shells perfectly with a much better fit on my foot and less weight. )

I only wish La Sportiva USA offered spare Baruntse inner boots...at the moment they do not. (They do as of 9/1/) I'll get into the details of the Baruntse in an other review. Short version? If you are looking for a cold weather double boot specifically for technical climbing....the Baruntse is an unqualified success imo. I'd give it a 5 star rating no question. Only a small part of that story but take a look at the over all weights of both Spantik and Baruntse in the previous weight blog as a first comparison. You will likely be surprised. Sportiva's sales comment abou tthe Baruntse at one time was, "less technical than the Spantik ". It is not. And in many ways it is the better technical boot on steep ice and hard mixed.


There have been many, many hard, technical and cold climbs done now in the Spantik. Just not on Nanga Parbat as most will assume from House's youtube clip of what he "used" on Nanga Parbat. That was the Nuptse another La Sportiva double boot.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oIkmYiwbZWg

House/Anderson photos






More on Steve House and Vince Anderson

http://www.patagonia.com/web/us/patagonia.go?slc=en_US&sct=US&assetid=1662

http://www.patagonia.com/web/us/patagonia.go?slc=en_US&sct=US&assetid=34437

The Spantik has routinely summited Denali on quick trips with no over boots. You can use a very thin sock with the boot. And because the inner boots don't breath also work as VBL liners and keep your feet warmer and the inner and outer boots don't freeze.





The minimal lacing system on the outer shell collects little snow and in turn allows you to have warmer feet in really cold and deep snow conditions. The extra layer of foam in the sole also helps insulate you from the cold coming through the sole of the boot and your steel crampons working as a heat sink.


The down side of that same foam mid sole is you can collapse the mid sole if you over tighten your crampon bindings. Take a close look at the mid sole when you snap the lever in place and be conservative here. Enough of a problem on my size 46 Spantiks that I never really trusted most of the crampons I could fit to the boots. Thankfully the 45 shell is easier to fit.


You'll want to check here just under the heel clip...it is obvious when snapping the clip on and when in position if you are collapsing the mid sole. Either change 'pons or loosen the heel lever to an acceptable level of retention for boot integrity and crampon retention. The gap in the crampon heel fit is obvious in the picture as well. The crampons pictured are a perfect fit for what it is worth. Just a 5 to 6mm gap between the back end of the boot and the base of the crampon because of the additional built in sole rocker. Smaller gap up front depending on the crampon and bail style. A little disconcerting on the Spantiks until you get use to it.




Admittedly I have a difficult foot to fit. Long and narrow in the heel. And because of the added leverage of a size 12 foot I don't tolerate heel lift well. The 45 Spantik, using a thin insole and a custom fitted, heat molded Baruntse inner boot fits me as well as almost any double boot I have used. The side flex is almost non existent in the Spantik which i like and the progressive forward flex is tolerable. The Baruntse's flex is better in both areas for my needs and has a solid midsole. But by ditching the factory Spantik liner I can get a lighter and more comfortable Spantik and use a smaller shell, which is saying a lot.





Still not convinced the Spantik is THE best dbl boot available. And not in love with the Spantik as some of its supporters are. But at least I no longer hate it. And I do admit it is ONE of the best dbl boots available from a very short list. Just don't let the high tech lace system and fancy looks fool you if you can't get a an acceptable and hopefully perfect fit.



Spantik with a light weight, Black Diamond Sabertooth/Never crampon set up. Size 45 boot and crampon combo weights in at 3lb 10oz for a single side. Which sounds heavy but is actually pretty good :)








Here is a cautionary tale on the Spantik from a buddy. I mentioned the crampon fit and how the mid sole will collapse if the crampon fit is marginal.

Daniel Harro's comments and photos:

"As far as the spantiks go here is what I had to go through.
Before the resole. Obvious cracks in the toe piece.....10-15 days of use....maybe."



"After Dave Paige did the Resole. Note that I had to pay $100.00 bucks and of course La Sportiva does not import the Spantik sole, hence the Nepal sole on my Spantik boot... Short story don't buy boots direct from the company or they will screw you, like they screwed me. Dave Paige did do a good job for what he had to work with. First pair he has ever had to do."




The bright side of Daniel's resole? He now has some of the advantages and all the EXTRA weight of the of the Baruntse midsole. I think the Baruntse is a better technical boot than the Spantik becasue of the stiffer mid sole. Just a tough way to get that advantage and still have the heavier liner. It is the worst combo you could hand out imo.

My caution.... like Daniel's...is never, as in, never ever, buy boots directly from a boot manufacturer, or their state side wholesaler. All the best climbing boots are made out side the US and imported...getting any of the US importers to stand behind defective boots is damn near impossible and expensive. Vasque, La Sportiva, Raichle and Kayland have all been problems that I have personally whitnessed with ZERO satisfaction.

The bastards laugh at us all the way to the bank is my thought. But hey if you work for a importer I'd love to here your side of the story. Happy to publish it here. My suggestion is buy your boots from a reputable retailer with a unconditional guaranteee...Like REI, Backcountry.com or Zappos.