Movie Review: 127 Hours

I went to see the movie 127 Hours about Aaron Ralston on Saturday. He is famous for spending over five days pinned in a slot canyon and eventually cutting his arm off so that he could escape. That happened in April 2003 when I was getting into backpacking and mountain climbing. His story is nothing new to me, but it is very interesting.

Play the mountain game long enough and you will probably spend time soloing and know people that die while in the mountains. It might start off as class one or two terrain (not technical, running shoes preferred).  However, at some point for a select few "heros" it becomes a technical ordeal requiring ropes, equipment and much more risk.

Why do people do technical things like climbing and rappelling solo? That answer is too long for this movie review but it boils down to the challenge and lack of qualified partners. Aaron has a degree in mechanical engineering from Carnegie Mellon and was Tau Beta Pi (so his GPA was higher than mine). Yet another way I can relate to him: go east and get a degree then head west and have fun!

One of the themes and in my opinion the main theme of the movie was that of relationships. I have said before that relationships are the reason we exist, in my opinion. The movie starts off with scenes of cities and crowds and portrays all sorts of people. Aaron lived in Aspen, I believe, in the spring of 2003 which is a relatively small town. I don't think that anyone else in the theatre got the allusion to the crowds, that here was a person that did not want to ask for help or depend on other people. (Yet another way I relate.)

Accidents happen in the wilderness. That is part of the draw to extreme sports. Yet he made one mistake on this particular trip that I am sure he has never made after that or will never make, not telling anyone where he is going. I have done more than a dozen solo excursions, actually probably around 50 or 60 if you count trail running and nontechnical hiking. The difference is, I always tell someone where I am going and in the case that I don't fully trust those people to report me missing I leave a note in the window of my rather visible van or post on Facebook or email my parents. Had Aaron told someone he would have likely been found on Monday instead of cutting his arm off on Thursday. He would probably still have lost his arm but it would not have been as dramatic.

There has been a lot of mainstream media attention to his incident, and I can tell from the way that the reporters ask the questions that they do not know what to think. For me the experience hits close to home. He is a little more than 10 years older than I am. I had no idea in 2003 that my life might parallel his so much, but I am happy that he went through that experience so that I could learn vicariously from his mistake of not telling anyone. More than once I burned rubber up to New Hampshire to climb Mt. Washington or something only telling a small number of people at the last minute. I honestly thought of him every time I told someone where I was going. I know that had anything happened I would have been reported. Thanks Russ!

I don't tell my parents much anymore when I am going on day trips. They worry about me and don't always understand the specifics like some of my other friends.

The question comes up sometimes: if you were in his place would you cut your arm off? I think about that and first of all, I'm not really into canyoneering. On a mountain ridge there are generally less things to fall on you. Plus the view is better. Secondly, that's not a question I have to answer. I am not in that situation so I do not have to make that choice. I will say, I think I am a pretty tough person. I have limped back to my car from injuries sustained soloing more than once. Nothing that lasted very long but enough to get my attention. I will fight to stay alive. Who else do you know that ran 93 miles alone around a mountain with over 22,000 feet of vertical gain and loss in less than 32 hours for fun?

What about the actual movie? Is it any good. Yeah, it is worth the time. To a person like me who can relate, who will likely run into Aaron on a mountain some day, the movie is good. It is always good to have a reminder that relationships are important. A lot of you readers know me personally and I don't say this enough: I love you. I could die mountain climbing. I don't want to and I will try awfully hard to keep living, but it could happen. Watching 127 Hours and knowing about Aaron's story over the last eight years has helped me express how much I care just a little more. Sure I still don't do it enough, but I'm working on that. Give me a call sometime if you want to hear it.

The Purpose of Hard Shell Jackets

I finally bought a hard shell jacket. I've been in the market for about six years and I finally found a jacket that fits, is in my price range (less than $100 for actual quality), is light enough, has features I like and none that I don't.

For those that don't know, a hard shell is a dense fabric or coating such as Gor-Tex that is designed to be water proof. In the last 30 years as "breathable" fabrics and coatings have emerged this now typically means waterproof and breathable. In other words, expensive, barely breathable and and uninsulated. I took a pictures of myself in my new jacket below.

As I contemplated my purchase on the hour long drive home I thought, 'after everything I have done the last six years why am I buying a hard shell at all? I got along just fine without it.'

So I came up with a list of reasons to own a hard shell.

1. Ice climbing in the rain
2. Rock climbing in the snow
3. When you are no longer having fun outside because of the weather but are still hours away from lattes and heaters

That is about it. In total that accounts for about 10% of the time that I spend playing in the outdoors. Typically when any of those scenarios happens the trips is nearing completion but it will be nice to stay dry a little longer than I do with my three ounce wind shells. 

Climbing Mountains

With 50% of the vote Mt. Washington in New Hampshire won as the highest mountain most people were likely to climb. It is a great mountain, one of the best there is, but there are more mountains, and some of them are very interesting.

Receiving 12% of the vote each was Denali, Kilimanjaro, the Eisenhower tunnel outside of Denver, and one person who doesn't plan to leave sea level.

Mountains are cool.

Jeff Gorges on top of Mt. Washington in the winter (I think I took this picture but it might have been Randy)

My first Mt. Washington summit September 2005 at dusk (I'm on the right)

Let's Climb the Nose!

The Nose of El Capitan is probably the most famous rock climb in the world. For many people it is the pinnacle of their climbing career. For good reason, the 33 pitches of granite up the middle of a gentle arete in the middle of a mile wide vertical rock is about as spectacular of a setting as any on earth. The best part is that it is so popular that it has dozens of bolts, beat out cracks, almost no loose rock, and it's warm! I was talking with a friend who was far too amazed with my partial solo ascent of the Nose in August. He was inquiring what it would take to climb the Nose and I told him, not much.

There are a whole range of ways to approach a big technically demanding but strait forward climb like the Nose. Four examples in order from shortest to longest amount of preparation:

• Hire a guide. It is quite possible that for enough money a guide would spend one day climbing with a complete novice to teach him some basic things and then they would go spend the better part of a week climbing the route. This would be an expensive option, but realistically the whole trip could be done in nine days so that you would only miss one week of work. It would also be an expensive trip, with a price of more that $200 per day, probably closer to $300 per day. Also, you would not do any leading, just jugging and help hauling. If your goal is simply to get up the thing, this is the way to go.
• Convince an experienced climber into taking you. All of the climbers that I know have non-climber friends. This method would take a little more time, in terms of preparation, and it would likely involve more work during the climb. Most experienced climbers would probably make sure that whoever they were taking with them had good enough belay and multipitch skills. A short introduction would likely involve some time top-roping with the novice to teach the very basics then some time spent multipitch climbing with the novice, likely including jugging up a fixed rope and even hauling. If your goal is to get up the thing with the feeling that you contributed to the climb this is the way to go.
• Build up the experience to evenly distribute the work load between two or three climbers. This would take months of experience learning to lead climb and deal with the intricacies of placing artificial protection, anchors, and (non-bolted hanging) belay site management. If your goal is to climb the Nose with the sense that you did your fair share of work on the climb this is the way to go.
• Do something extraordinary like solo the route or do the Nose in a day (NIAD). This would likely take years of practice. I gave my friend the number of about 100 days of climbing experience. That range would give a dedicated climber enough time to confidently approach the Nose with big goals. To do the NIAD it usually requires advanced skills like traditional rock climbing at 5.11, short roping, simul-climbing, previous route experience, and a similarly competent partner.  However, if this was your one goal it is easily definable and thus is strait forward to train for.

Of course there are other routes to get to the Nose. In general, I have learned that on just about every route you can group all of the climbers into one of those four groups. I have been in all of those groups at one point or another and depending on the route that I am climbing I might still fit in any one of those four groups.

After spending two days alone tearing my knuckles to a bloody mess it has left an impression on me. I want to climb it! The whole thing not just the first 500 feet. However, right now I am about 2300 miles away and unemployed so it may be a while before I get back there.

Defining Hobbies

In interviews, and in person, I get asked what my hobbies are. I used to say all sorts of activities such as reading, rock climbing, blogging, painting, hiking, camping, whatever I put time into. However, I have narrowed my focus, at least in terms of what I define as a hobby, down to two: running and mountaineering.

What about blogging and painting and wood carving and reading Charles Dickens? Well I see those more as projects. My other activities are short term temporary recreation. Semantics, if you will, but there is a clear divide in my head about priorities. If given the choice between a great year of running leading up to a life altering race or a year of blogging leading up to something significant in relation to my blog, I would choose the running. It is the same for mountaineering. If given the choice between climbing Mt. Everest or writing a successful book about it, I would rather climb it.

I have said before, I love commitment. Calling something a hobby instead of a project or experiment means to me that I have made a commitment to work and play at it for years. While I may quite possibly blog, paint, and do other things consistently for decades to come, I have already been racing for a decade and I mountaineer at a fairly high level. I define mountaineering as the activities encompassing everything from urban buildering to summer alpine rock climbs to K2 in the winter. I have found, in my short time that when I focus on something or at least a small number of things that I tend to do much better than if I casually do a dozen things. A jack of all trades is a master of none.

So there they are, running and mountaineering. I have two hobbies. Now if only I could land a job...

I Am Scared of Heights

I've said many times this summer to my friends and climbing partners that I am scared of heights. That is really a huge oversimplification. The issue demands a somewhat complicated explanation.

I could die climbing. It could be in the mountains at a remote location or a a 40 foot high cliff next to a paved road. The thing is I don't want to die climbing.

I went through a phase a few years ago where I saw death as a result of my mountaineering as inevitable. I thought that there would eventually be a day when something happened and I died. I still climbed safe. I thought that my fatal fate would be something out of my control. I guess it is the syndrome where everyone looks at the other people and thinks that bad things only happen to other people, not them. (Like with unemployment...)

Anyway, the significant turning point for me was probably taking a 40+ foot factor two aid climbing fall. I pulled two pieces of protection out of the rock and was stopped only a few feet short of a ledge that would have surely broken me.

During that time I decided that I really did not want to take falls like that. It was not fun. It hurt. I did not want to die at age 28 climbing a mountain. (I was only 22 at the time.) However, emerging on the other side of that phase of my climbing life I have a new respect for heights. Also, a new appreciation for injury and death. That is to say, I do not want to die, but it is a possibility. I take all sorts of precautions to minimize the chance of a dangerous incident. I use ropes. I wear a helmet. I place pretty good protection.

Colin Haley is featured in some new videos on the Patagonia website and he talks in Part 2 about being scared. There is a video of Alex Honnold getting scared on Halfdome, although it is in another language. A similar video of him free soloing Moonlight Buttress is interesting. It affects us all. To say that you are truly not scared of heights is crazy. My theory is that if you are not scared of heights you are not scared of death and as a climber you will inevitably jump off a cliff. That being said, fear manifests itself very differently in me at heights than others. I like heights. They are thrilling.

For example, in the video of Josh and I rappelling off of the diamond, still hundreds of feet in the air at a fixed anchor with tattered slings, there was hardly any fear in me. Rappelling, especially in an alpine setting off of fixed slings, is one of the most dangerous things in the world of mountaineering. It is nerve racking, especially on a six millimeter rope. It is scary. Yet I've been in that situation so many times that I am very comfortable with it.

Another example of me being comfortable with heights was teaching my friend Andrew big wall climbing. Watching him explain what happened is really the best.

Good huh?

So while I am quite scared of heights, I enjoy heights much better than most.

Lessons from the Big Stone

My time in Yosemite was very educational. While I started four climbs and finished none of them I did some things well. I also learned some things.

1. Jugging. I learned to ascend ropes better. I have ascended ropes many times both on simple steep snow and ice in Pakistan and on overhanging terrain in New England. However, I had never ascended rope with a backpack full of four days of big wall supplies. That was really hard. It took probably three hours to get up 400 feet. I learned to use a chest harness. By clipping a quickdraw to the shoulder straps of my backpack and clipping that to my highest ascender it kept me from flipping backwards with 50+ pounds of stuff on my back.
2. Anchors. I've encountered two bolt anchors on multipitch climbs before. However, nearly every anchor on the standard routes in Yosemite are two bolt anchors. I finally had the chance to use a more simple system. Simply using two carabiners I would clove hitch the rope I was tied in with into one bolt and then clove hitch or tie a figure 8 on a bite and carabiner that to the second bolt. Then I would clip the backpack into one bolt. If either bolt failed the whole system would hang by the other bolt given that the rope doesn't break. It is generally accepted that the rope is the strongest element in the climbing system. Other single elements might break or fail but the rope is never supposed to fail. They have several times but it is very very rare.
3. Partners. I did a lot of solo climbing. Which is fine, but it is harder. It takes more effort to haul everything alone. It is tiring to lead every pitch. The rope management is more difficult. It is mentally more difficult being motivated only by yourself. Simply put, I prefer to climb with people. 
4. Camping. It is free to bivy, camp without a tent, below Halfdome, and other places. So the night before climbs on Halfdome or other remote locations you can camp for free. It is free to bivy on routes. So taking multiple days to climb a route is nice because you can sleep on ledges or on a portaledge if you have one. Camp 4 is great but the seven day limit during the summer is a little restrictive. Camp 4 also has a huge bear problem. You probably have a three out of four chance of seeing a bear any given night there. There is free camping just outside of the park boundaries in the national forests, but from "The Valley" it is at least a 30 minute drive and not really worth it.
5. Food. The pizza place at Curry Village was my preferred restaurant in the afternoon. The Yosemite Lodge Cafeteria was my preferred breakfast place, although I never ate there in the afternoons so it could be good as well. I also ate lots of Ramen and tortillas that I brought into the park. In the park grocery stores I was a fan of the quart cartons of milk for 99 cents. Even the chocolate milk was only 99 cents. Finally, I was turned onto almond butter from Trader Joes by one of my climbing partners. It is good stuff.
6. Showers. The most fun method of washing is jumping off of the El Capitan bridge into the Merced. It is about seven feet above the water so watch out for a nose bleed. (It didn't hurt I was fine.) The Merced is chilly but compared to the heat in August it is perfect. The dry air dries your body in minutes and you can stare at El Cap as you dry off. The more traditional alternative is to shower at Curry Village. If you wait until after 6 PM it is free, or at least it was free while I was there. However, there is often a line because people know it is free. During the day it is $5 to take a shower at Curry Village. 
7. Tri-Cams must have been invented for angle piton scars. Yosemite is full of angle piton scars and Tri-Cams fit in them perfectly. Be sure to bring a black (.25 size) and pink (.5 size).

Those are the major lessons I learned at Yosemite. I also learned more about climbing but those were smaller lessons in the big picture. Yosemite feels like a crag. It feels like the rocks are all 80 feet tall. The approaches are usually pretty short and the cracks are mostly clean. Part of climbing well is feeling comfortable in your surroundings. Eventually I will return to Yosemite. Now that I know it better I am sure I will get higher up whatever I try next time. Perhaps I will even top out El Cap...

It's Not Rocket Science: Week 24

What  a week! This week was the culmination of why I headed out west. That is to say, I "finished" what I set out to do... something, big.

The week started off in Leavenworth, Washington. After a late start the group was going to do another day of sport climbing. I really was not feeling like sport climbing. The two pitches I led on Saturday I had backed down from before I reached the anchor. To some large extent I was scared of falling. I just did not want to succeed on those climbs bad enough to keep going. That has kind of been a theme with me this summer. I have started up so many routes simply to end the route with a whole bunch of rappelling. The most recent Patagonia catalog was dedicated to failed climbs. That was a nice bit of motivation.

The way I view success and failure in mountaineering is a mixture of survival, experience, fear, accomplishment, and mental barriers. That is to say that while I have succeeded on so few routes this summer I have learned many things, which I will blog about over the next several months. The point is, making the top is only a small part of mountaineering.

Anyway, back to Sunday. I mentioned at breakfast that I was considering running The Enchantments, and they ended up talking me into it.

We all ate hamburgers at the Heidleburger Drive-In (it's a hamburger place) and someone mentioned that I should run the Wonderland Trail around Mt. Rainier. They mentioned that it was 90 miles so I answered that that was crazy. Then I could not stop thinking about it on the two hour drive back to Seattle. I decided on Monday after getting coffee from the first Starbucks that I would go for it. The first Starbuck is not cool by the way. It's a total tourist trap. Good coffee though... The weather was scheduled to cooperate for Tuesday and Wednesday and I wasn't terribly tired from The Enchantments so I went for the Wonderland Trail Tuesday morning. That trip report will be up tomorrow.

The rest of the week involved me driving 3000 miles from Seattle back east. Along the way I overnighted in Bozeman at a friend's house. That makes it five different friends houses on this road trip. Thank you awesome friends! I had coffee in the morning in Bozeman and interestingly enough I had as hard of a time finding parking on Main Street in Bozeman as I did in downtown San Francisco.

Saturday I spent part of the day looking at the Four Mile Canyon Fire, also known as the Boulder Fire. It was very surprising. The fire came within ten feet of burning houses at Gold Hill. While Gold Hill is only a 200 person town, anytime a a town burns it is devastating. It was strange to drive down the roads and see one house burned to the ground and the next house 30 feet away was fine. After seeing the destruction and ashes it scares me to think of being evacuated. When the fire department gives the order to evacuate the fire is still a mile or two away and everyone is in denial about their house being burnt. You could lose everything, or nothing.

Above is the Colorado Mountain Ranch. The main building on the right was saved but the rest of the ranch was pretty much destroyed. The red glass on the buses tail lights melted and ran down in gruesome trails. It was not a happy scene.

It's Not Rocket Science: Week 23

The week started off with me starting up the South Face of Washington Column  in Yosemite again. I spent a night on a ledge probably 400 feet up in the air. It was long enough for three people but only a few feet wide. Falling asleep was a little more difficult than normal because there was a constant fear that I would roll off the edge. Exhaustion soon won over and I was asleep. I also decided that night that I just was not feeling like climbing a big wall solo. It's slow, lonely, hard, and I did not want it that bad. So I rappelled down in the morning and headed north for Seattle.

At Seattle I have been staying with another friend from Pakistan. All things considered it was a slow week. We went to a few local restaurants, a few different coffee shops, and the locks between the lake in the middle of town and the ocean. In the process I met several of his friends. Some of whom work for companies that interest me. Thus I applied for several jobs in the Seattle area that I had not planned on applying for.

The end of the week involved my friend and I driving to Leavenworth, WA to start a climbing trip in The Enchantments. However, we had a problem getting a permit for the right backountry zone and thus changed our plans from an alpine climb to a climb at one of the local crags. This worked out well because we ended up with a group of eight people. Car camping and cragging was a good option for all of the different skill levels and size of the group.

The Stages of Mountaineering

This is an expanded and modified version of the process that I learned this summer from the animal chef at the Denver Zoo. I do not recall his name but he has been featured in climbing magazines several times and climbed very hard routes so he is a legitimate authority on the matter. He was taught the Stages of Mountaineering from an older mountaineer, whose name I recognized yet I forget that as well.

There is a rather predictable process that most mountaineers go through. It is not always this way but often it is.

1. Rock Climbing. Before this phase many mountaineers are simply hikers or backpackers. They probably even go up steep things, but in general before rock climbing everything the climber does could be done in normal flexible average shoes. Rock climbing is somewhat more dangerous than hiking. At least it feels that way. Accidents can happen and people do get seriously hurt and die every year. However, with proper techniques the danger is very low. Strong anchors, safe ropes, and relatively new equipment used properly will prevent most serious injuries.
2. Ice Climbing. At this point the climber would like to try something a little more challenging. Instead of shorts and a t-shirt on a sunny day rock climbing the climber will wear expensive clothing, boots, and more exotic gear. The adventure becomes more dangerous. Ice screws, bollards, and v-threads have the ability to melt out or fracture and break the ice. While a chock or bolt used rock climbing may be safe for years ice features can melt in a matter of hours. It is a more committing sport and people are seriously injured and die every year as a result of that increased danger. Fewer people take part in this sport (about 200,000 people in the US versus 4 million rock climbers).
3. Alpine Mountaineering. The climber now seeks to obtain a better view from higher peaks on harder and longer routes. Skills of both ice climbing and rock climbing are used as well as backpacking, cooking, and dealing with altitude, often in remote locations. There is more danger on this step than the previous two. Avalanches, altitude related illnesses, exhaustion, environmental conditions that change over the course of several days on a route, and logistical problems can all conspire against a mountaineer. At the greatest heights of mountaineering on 8000 meter (26,300 feet) tall mountains in Asia all of the mountains have summit to death ratios at or above 1%. That is to say for every 100 people that make it to the top at least one dies. On K2 the second highest mountain in the world that ratio is about 25%. For every four mountaineers that make it to the top one dies. This level is dangerous.
4. Fishing. Often mountaineers will realize the danger of their sport and proceed to partake in a less dangerous hobby. One that ends with fresh fish eaten in a dry house followed by sleeping in a warm and soft bed. The reasons for this transition are varied. Families, children, old age, close calls, becoming seriously injured, and lack of motivation are all causes for a mountaineer to develop his or her fishing skills. This is also a step where uninitiated mountaineers may be safely brought along on trips. This stage of the process can be shared by the very young and very old alike with almost no danger.

Occasionally a mountaineer that reaches stage four will start back at stage one ten or twenty years later. Climbing things is a very satisfying experience. It is an experience that is hard to replace by other activities. That is to say that the fisherman may perhaps enjoy a little rock climbing now and then.With the advent of climbing gyms an even safer first step can occur. To the best of my knowledge only one person has ever died in a a climbing gym. She was planning ot rappel from about 45 feet in the air and fell off the edge while she was unclipped to anything. Considering the hundreds of thousands of people that use climbing gyms every year that is a miniscule number of tragedies. Also, it appeared to be in part human error, not equipment failure that led to that tragedy, whereas in stages one through three gear has failed outdoors leading to serious injuries and death. That is to say, go try out your local rock climbing gym for a safe taste of mountaineering. You never know where it will lead you.

It's Not Rocket Science: Week 22

Another week and the end of another month that I survived. At the end of the day when things are not as rosy as had been planned my friends and I say something to the effect of, "we survived." Not entirely a week like that but it is always a good thing.

El Capitan, featuring The Nose in the center of the photograph

Halfdome Summit Picture

Sunday started with an off day. After spending two days and getting torn up on The Nose (the center ridge above) I needed a day of no climbing. So I turned to my other hobby, running. In 2000 when my family had vacationed in Yosemite I remember seeing Halfdome from Glacier Point and thinking how amazing it appeared. I wanted to come back and climb it someday. At the time that simply meant getting to the top. So I decided I would run Halfdome. From the Happy Isles bus stop to the top of the rock was two hours and 13 minutes. Thats 4800 feet of elevation rise over about 8.5 miles. All things considered it was an easy run. The maximum elevation was less than 9000 feet which allowed easier breathing. After a short break on the top I ran back down in about two hours.

The View from Halfdome of Halfdome and down Yosemite Valley

Bobcat with 30 feet of me that simply didn't care I was on the trail

Monday I decided to give the big walls another go. The South Face of Washington Column is known as the easiest big wall in Yosemite Valley, perhaps the world. It goes at 5.8 C1 and 11 pitches. That is to say well within my capabilities. However, after the approach hike, roping up, and starting up I was only 40 feet up the first pitch and I scared myself. I decided to get off the wall and that I just was not ready to climb big walls. It is so hard alone. The rope work is more complicated. There is no one there for conversation. There is no one to watch your back. There is no one to double check your work. There is no one to share the work load. So I headed down, had a pizza at Curry Village, and headed out via Camp 4...

I wanted to stop by and see my friend Andrew and let him know that unless he wanted to climb something I was leaving the valley. Strangely enough, he was there. He was also interested in climbing Halfdome, the steep way. I was very excited so we set plans to leave early Tuesday and do some climbing.

Tuesday we obtained the backcountry permit and bought the remaining supplies. Soon enough we were headed up the trail around the back of Halfdome to the base of the wall. At about 3 PM we arrived at the bottom of the very large wall. The spring of water was running, fortunately, so we purified water to supplement our supplies. About this time I had a funny experience. Andrew my climbing partner had long hair and wore a headband. He was wearing a dark shirt and light pants. I was looking at him and talking to him then I bent down to reach into my backpack. When I stood up I was facing the opposite direction and standing 200 feet away appeared to be Andrew. I quickly looked back at the real Andrew before returning my gaze to the new Andrew. He was just standing there staring at me. I was terrified that I was halucinating. The few times in the mountains I have seen things have been when I have been very tired and dehydrated. They have also never been clear things. For example, tree branches seem to be as strait as two by fours and part of a picnic area, versus simply tree branches. It is similar to seeing shadows in the dark and being afraid it is something more than shadows. However, this halucination was clear and real. Fortunately, about two seconds later I saw his climbing partner. He moved and then we started talking. They were planning to do the same route we were (The Regular Northwest Face) but they had a bit more experience.

We fixed the first two pitches and then they fixed the third pitch and then we went to sleep with half of our view of the stars obstructed by the immense piece of granite next to us. Both teams were attempting their first big wall and we agreed that working together would probably benefit the both of us.

Wednesday began at 3:00 AM or 3:25 AM by the time I actually woke up. We put together our gear and started ascending the ropes we fixed yesterday. Andrew was in the lead and I was behind. His headlamp died that morning and I proceeded to knock mine off of my helmet at the first belay ledge. He then clipped one of his ascenders to the other accidently. Add to all of this it was 5 AM and very dark and he had never used ascenders until the day before. Needless to say between the two of us we were not feeling the best about going a whole lot higher on the wall. So we rappelled down. We ate breakfast while we watched the more skilled team flail around on the fourth pitch and drop a #3 Camalot before calling it quits. It was a long dusty hike nine miles down to the valley. We marched in defeat, yet very satisfied to have tried such a climb.

That evening I headed to San Francisco to see a college friend. I arrived late, but with free parking. One comment on driving in the Bay Area is that it is really not a problem to find free parking and navigate. Compared to Boston driving was no trouble at all. The next day I woke up and as he headed to work I headed to Sausalito to spend my day reading, running, and having the best sushi I have ever had. That evening I hung out with my friend and his friends and had a small introduction to the social scene that makes San Fransisco famous...

Friday I went to my friend's house in Redwood City. We had been together in Pakistan and spent many hours together. I was interested in talking to him about how his transition back to normal life was. There was a long transition to normal life after the trauma of Pakistan. Since that was my first major trip it was especially difficult to return to normal life. Talking to others that through that experience allows me to process what happened.

Saturday I spent the day reading and sitting at the Apple store in Palo Alto (a close walk to Stanford). When I returned to my friend's house he called me on the phone. His wife had gone into labor and they wouldn't be home that night! I knew she was ready to give birth but it was supposed to be several weeks. I visit my friends and they have a baby. What is next?

It's Not Rocket Science: Week 21

The week started as many of my weeks do. I went to church, walked
around Boulder looking for a book, then I went for a run. Simple enough.
Then Monday my climbing partner and I woke up at 12:30 AM and drove
from Rollinsville to Longs Peak and attempted the Casual Route on The
Diamond. However, after making it through the 5.7 traverse in a light
drizzle and 40 degree windy conditions we decided to rappel off. We
did six double rope rappels to get back the where we roped up in the
morning. It was a really great day. Very long but very satisfying. I
intend to write an article about it in the near future.
Tuesday saw me drive to Utah. Wednesday saw me try to climb Castleton
Tower then drive to California. Thursday was more driving to Yosemite
followed by getting a spot at Camp 4 and trying to figure out what to
do next.
Then Friday and Saturday saw me work The Nose on El Capitan. Friday I
fixed the first two official pitches (actually three pitches) and
dehydrated myself in the process by only bringing a 20 oz. water
bottle. I returned Saturday with four gallons of water, a pile of
food, and a sleeping bag. Intent on getting to the top in about four
days. Well, as I worked through the clean aid 2 with fixed gear pitch
I came to a blank section. A section where a copper head would go
prefectly. However that is the fixed gear part of that rating and I
did not bring any gear to fix. Thus to the cheers of people from El
Cap meadow I tried to pendulum to a crack on my right. I was just a
few feet short of a nice two inch wide ledge so I thought I could make
a hook move on a quarter inch thick flake to reach it. I set the hook.
I played with it a little. Then I moved my weight onto it. In the
process it must have shifted or the flake broke because I heard the
ping and went flying through the air tearing my skin and shorts as I
scraped across the rock. Bleeding, tired and sore I decided that I
would rappel off only a scant 500 feet into a 3500 foot climb. Below
is a picture just before I rappelled from the belay at pitch three.

It's Not Rocket Science: Week 20

It was a very good week. I had an interview in Maryland for a research and development engineering position. It went quite well. It's hard to say if it went well enough that they will want to hire me, yet it was probably my best interview ever. I was somewhat nervous that I would not be interested in the company or that Maryland would not be attractive but I was wrong on both counts. The work seems interesting, the people seem quite agreeable, and Maryland has more to offer someone like myself than I expected.

That was by far the highlight of the week because the security of a job is very important to me right now. However, I had a great week of climbing. Tuesday night before my interview I went to the local climbing gym bouldering and did three V4s. That's better than I usually do. Thursday I went trad climbing with a guy who led two 5.10 pitches and a 5.11b pitch on the Bastile in Eldorado canyon. I had never trad climbed anything that hard. Then Saturday I went climbing and led a sustained 5.9 pitch and successfully top roped another 5.12. A good week indeed.

I didn't run many miles but I had a six mile run without pain! I'm coming back!

Also my computer power cord was left in Maryland so I bought a new one but for the time being I am computerless.

It's Not Rocket Science: Week 19

This week was interesting. It had some ups and downs.

I was originally planning on having an interview in Maryland this week. Unfortunately, all sorts of little problems coincided so that it had to be rescheduled. Fortunately, the new date is set for this week and I think that this time it will all work out. I won't go into any more detail about the work except to say that it is a materials science job and I am very excited for the interview. I have been asked several times if I am nervous and I have to say that I am actually not nervous. I am who I am and I have done what I have done. Obviously there is no lying in an interview. If I am not the best person to help them then I hope they get a better new employee. I am confident that life always works out for the better, however painful that is along the way. If this doesn't pan out there will be more opportunities. Who knows, I may spend my winter making snow at a ski resort in Colorado. That job could start within less than a month.

After that large "down" for the beginning of the week I went climbing. I climbed on the Piz Badile twice, getting to the top once and getting rained off once. I went climbing on Sharkstooth, but turned around when it became too cold and windy for me to feel comfortable. I went bouldering on Lumpy Ridge and climbed the Little Twin Owls.  Below is the view from the top of the North Little Owl looking at South Little Owl and Longs Peak.

I bouldered my cabin several times finally getting past the crux which is a layback on the roof with my feet on wooden slopers. It's maybe V1 or easy V2. Then I went climbing on Lumpy Ridge again on The Book and as usual made it up one pitch of 5.8+ in poor style with a climbing partner who had not done too much traditional climbing before. Thus tears were shed and we rappelled down. On the positive side I managed to get a Link Cam stuck. My climbing partner could not get it out so I rappelled and tried to get it out. After maybe ten minutes it came out. I have never stuck a cam so well (that's a bad thing because it's expensive, but a good thing because it is very safe). It was a good learning experience for me working a Link Cam out. They are my favorite piece of rock climbing protection and the more I know how to work with them the better and safer I will climb.

I ran 10.5 miles this week. I probably hiked just as many or more. My leg keeps feeling better but it still hurts a little. I plan to start ramping it up this week or next. I can tell that I have lost a lot of my fitness. On the positive side, I just know that this injury is better than it could have been. I could have easily been knocked out for several months with a fracture.

Since I am living more or less free at the camp I am at I have also been doing some work to repay their generosity. I stained my deck this week and helped move a kitchen. When I say kitchen I mean four eight foot long steel serving tables with five sinks a piece, a double convection oven, and a walk in freezer. Yes, we moved a walk in freezer. Three of us. The other two in their upper 50s and myself. It was tiring.

I applied for more jobs using the standard online applications. I have been called about so few of those jobs in the past. Even though I have a much better idea of how to apply I still do not feel very optimistic about my chances getting any of those jobs. As I apply for jobs and have no income to speak of I am content in a way. I climbed a whole lot this week. While I haven't "done" anything to speak of in my life, such as work 40 hours a week in engineering. I am somewhat enjoying this vacation. There is a good chance that the next time I have this much free time I will be in my 60s or 70s. Also, I have worked hard. My education, specifically the last five and a half years of it were not easy. That is to say, I desperately want an engineering job, but I do not feel guilty about rock climbing the better part of four days this week.

Free Soloing

The most dangerous climbing game. The big showdown. You fall, you die. The idiots game. The game of the perfect people.

Two years ago I started rope soloing seriously (and four years ago for the first time) because I thought free soloing (climbing without any rope or protection) was too risky. It is very simple, if you fall from over 30 feet in the air chances are you will die. Tuesday I did my most risky free soloing yet. There is a little 500-600 foot tall rock near the place I live called the Piz Badile. The North Ridge is a simple 5.6 four pitch climb. My friends and I have climbed it numerous times. Rumor has it one of my friends free soloed the whole thing. Now if you known what you are doing the whole thing can go at 5.4. So Tuesday I went up on it with the intent of soloing it, part with a rope, and part without.

The first part of the ridge is generally the crux, but if you climb the left side of the ridge it goes at maybe 5.0. I free soloed that in my running shoes. At the first belay ledge I switched to rock shoes and roped up. About one regular pitch farther I unroped and free soloed some more. Then I roped in for a little more. Finally where the ridge flattens out I unroped and cruised the traverse to the hill. The exposure on that last part was maybe 200 feet down or 300 feet on each side of this three foot wide ridge of 5.0 climbing. It sure got my heart pumping.

The reason I decided to climb without a rope holding me in is that I have realized how much faster it is to free solo something. There is no stopping to put protection in. There is no rope management. There is no belaying. Less gear is needed. Climbing shoes are about it. Dean Potter free soloed the Casual Route on Longs peak car to car in 3:59. Two years ago it took my friend and I 20:15. Five times as long.

However, this post is not about how much faster it is or why it is dangerous. This post is about what it feels like. I have read other climbers descriptions where they talk about nirvana or an ideal faultless state. They feel like they will not make a mistake. I didn't feel like that at all. The first pitch I felt fine because I've done that section several times. However, above that it was terrifying. My fingers did not stick to the rock magically. I didn't feel more secure than when I climb with a rope. My heart was beating hard and fast and my hands were sweating. When I free soloed the ridge above I had to take a break after about 150 feet because I was out of breath. Without stopping to put in protection or belay I was moving very fast over technical terrain. I had to sit there for 30 seconds on this tiny ridge to get my breathing under control.

It was not exactly a liberating experience. It was scary.

When I climb I do not spend much time looking down. I am always looking up or to the sides to figure out where to go next. That being said the two seconds here and there where my gaze happened to drift downward really got my attention. There is no lying to yourself when you are free soloing. It is very honest. You fall, you die. Derek Hersey and John Bachar died free soloing. In the Himalaya, Karakorum, Alps, Rocky Mountains, and elsewhere around the world dozens of people have died from "falls" while the terrain they are on may only be third or fourth class or grade two ice the result is the same. I say "falls" because I have taken falls in the mountains. Falls that, without a rope, I would not be here. However, I have not taken any of those "falls" that each person can only take once.

There is a video of Dean Potter soloing El Capitan in Yosmite that just scares me and inspires me. He free solos stuff really far off the ground. No margin for error. Another video is of Alex Honnold soloing Half Dome. A full page picture was featured in Outside Magazine (I think) recently of him at the end of the traverse on the Regular Northwest Face. I have read of that traverse. It scares people. Watching him do that in the video, when he freezes half way across... my palms were sweating even though I knew he made it.

Scary, fun, dangerous, rewarding, and scary about describe it.

Epic on the Piz (Badile)

About five miles away from the camp I live at is a little 600 foot tall rock called the Piz Badile. It's named after a similar formation in Europe. I have wanted to climb it solo for a long time and Monday at about 11:45 AM I decided the time was right.

I drove down the road. I packed a tiny rack. My four link cams, six nuts, four regular runners, one double length runner, a few locking carabiners, rock shoes, chalk, and my 60 meter 7.5 millimeter dynamic rope. It all fit in my 18 liter backpack. The approach from my van to the base of the climb took nine minutes. There is a 5.0 or even fourth class variation to the first pitch on the left side of the main ridge and I quickly free soloed to the bolts at the first anchor. Feeling good I free soloed another 20 feet. Then there was a move I just was not feeling comfortable with so I plugged in two cams and tied into the rope to begin rope soloing.  by the time I had all of that worked out it started to drizzle. I made the move I had been worried about and it began to rain harder. Instead of continue up into the lightening on the wet rock I decided to detour to a tree 20 feet away and rappel off.

I climbed to the tree, wrapped it with a sling, rappelled back to the two cams, removed them from the rock, and climbed back up to the tree. All that time the rain kept pouring harder. I took a quick video because I felt safe enough and I feel that I never video enough during the "epic" moments. I rappelled maybe 25 meters to the ground and walked back to my van. I was soaking wet, and of course wearing cotton. All of my gear was wet. It was kind of scary.

It was a very good experience for several reasons. I knew exactly how to do everything safely. I didn't waste time sitting around. Also for the perhaps 150 feet of vertical climbing that I wore my rock climbing shoes I made good time. The whole trip including approach and descent was only one hour and nine minutes. I will no doubt be back in the near future. The Piz is great because of the easy climbing, short approach, and length of the route. It is a great place to develop skills such as self-rescue, speed, technical independence, efficiency, and confidence which can be taken to larger mountains. Watch the video:

Epic on the Piz on YouTube

Mountains of Inexperience

I like to push people to do better. I like to run with people farther than they have ever run before. I like to climb taller, steeper walls with people who have never done something like that before. I like to tell people they can do it when they have doubts. Unfortunately, this has not worked out so well this summer. My recent failure on the Grand Teton magnified a few communication problems I have been having in my head this summer. I haven't really communicated wrongly with others just myself.

As I get more experienced I try to do things like run farther, climb higher, go lighter, stretch the boundaries of a "one day" attempt, and the like advanced skills. The problem is that I am taking people with me who are less experienced in the mountains. Trying to do the Grand Teton in one day demands very strong people who aren't going to fool around and waste time. The route is 6800 vertical feet from car to summit and perhaps eight or nine miles one way with at least two pitches of fifth class rock climbing on the easiest route. I have only done that much vertical elevation in one day twice in my life. Add to that the whole trip has to be done carrying rock climbing gear (heavy) and get down before bad weather (the lightening is scary up there). When I look at the statistics more I realize that I was really trying to do something that would be a bit of a challenge for me. I was taking three people with me who were just not as strong as I was. It was a strong group. Had we tried to do it in two days I think we would have been very successful. Yet trying to do it in one day was a little bit too much.

Riding back the next day I thought about yet another mountain climbing failure this summer. I have only topped out one climb this summer and that was Castle Rock in Boulder Canyon perhaps 400 feet high. I have failed on Longs Peak three times. Lumpy Ridge (the Bookmark), the Petit Grepon, and the First Flatiron (I did get up it once) all repulsed me once. Those other failures are because I was trying to take people up something that was just too difficult. They were all capable of doing it yet because of time constraints due to work schedules or weather we just were not moving fast enough.

I have been selfishly attempting objectives that I want to have under my belt. I have been doing this without much regard as to the partner I am climbing with. I will use a running example to illustrate my point. These failures would be similar to taking a running who usually ran 13 miles once a week at eight minutes per mile pace and trying to get them to run 17 miles at seven minutes per mile pace. Possible? Probably, but that is a really difficult step up. The chances of actually hitting that goal are very low. The pace will dwindle or the run will get cut short.

What I am trying to say is that after this summer I am less likely to take newbies out to do something I consider interesting. I will still take inexperienced people out climbing but on objectives which are not very ambitious by my standards. I have the skills and the physical and mental conditioning to do technical things solo carrying all of my own ropes and gear faster than taking others along.

I read a biography of Hermann Buhl and I will paraphrase what someone, perhaps Reinhold Messner, said about him. 'Buhl was driven to solo climbing because he was so good that he was criticized by the other climbers and thus had a difficult time finding a climbing partner.' That's not at all why I solo climb. I do it mostly because I can not find a partner who can keep up with me. I definitely do not get criticized for being too good. Anyway, I had three failures this summer on objectives I have the experience to handle. At least in part they have all been due to the people I have been with. As the leader of the group it is my duty to instill confidence and provide strength for the group. However, when I look into someone's eyes and see fear it magnifies the fears in my head. I am influenced by others. Also, when I set time goals for certain way points along the way and we are not hitting them I get worried. Despite getting up 4800 feet and seven miles on Grand Teton in a mere five hours I felt we should have been faster.

I have taken 18 people traditional lead climbing for the first time. I have thought about starting to charge people for my services. Most of the people in the world do not have free access to a climber and runner like me. (Most don't want access anyway because they will never run or climb.) I have several friends that guide for different guiding companies, and I have talked to many more mountain guides. I also have similar experience in the running world (although I have much farther to progress in running than I do in mountain climbing). I enjoyed teaching 11 and 12 year old boys to rock climb and rappel this summer. In large part because I was getting paid to do it.

What does the future hold? Will I continue to take newbies out on grade II and III climbs? Will I take less conditioned runners out on long runs? Perhaps I will. In fact, I know I will. However, I think I will be more selective in the future. That is to say no grade III climbs for new trad climbers. I will probably not do any of my long runs or important workouts with people who haven't done similar runs.

Anyway, I'm still here. I still really like pushing people. I like teaching. I like taking new people to do things. I will continue to do all of those things I have done before, but with a little less ambition. I had a friend tell me this summer, "Isaiah, you are the most ambitious person I know." So I will tone it down a little for my friends. Still the pushing people to new limits, but no shoving.

Just before the lower saddle on Grand Teton. Three of my friends crossing a snowfield in tennis shoes. (I  recommended not bringing boots and crampons or ice axes.)

It's Not Rocket Science: Week 18

This will be short but I have a lot of ideas for blog posts later in the week.

Camp ended.  Our last day of work was with a group of 400 kids from Operation Smiles. More on that in the week to come. Unemployment started. That being said I am not planning on ever drawing unemployment benefits from the government. I do not see how that really truly helps motivate me to get a job. I can really squeeze my pennies if I have to and drawing unemployment would probably just motivate me to climb and run more and search for a job less.

I had planned to climb the Causual Route on the Diamond of Longs Peak Wednesday but my partner and I called it off Tuesday night because of rain. Instead we went down to Castle Rock in Boulder canyon and I led my first 5.10a trad climb! Despite doing it in poor style (hang dog, do one move, put in gear, hang dog again...) I did it free and it is the hardest technical climb I have ever led. It was very very satisfying. I have never even trad led a 5.9. Like I said a few days ago. After climbing 5.12 climbing a 5.10 is really strait forward.

The rest of the week was taken up with a road trip to Grand Teton National Park. We tried to climb Grand Teton in one day car to car Friday. Because of weather mostly we didn't make it to the top, or even the technical section. More on that whole road trip later. I learned many things in those three days.

I ran 5.5 miles. My leg is healing but it is not 100% yet. I won't be running a marathon in October because I don't have enough time to train but I will aim for something in December or January. I still want to have enough time to get in Boston in April. More on injuries later.

It's Only 5.12

There are many "walls" in athletics. Physical and mental challenges that have to be faced and dealt with to accomplish a particular task. 5.12 represents where climbing gets really hard. There is in fact a book How to Climb 5.12 by Eric Horst and it describes how to break through to the next level. I have not read the book but I know several people that have and they say it focuses on training methods to get stronger, both mentally as well as physically. They said the key is: climb a whole lot. I'll get back to that.

So I've been climbing at Movement in Boulder several times this summer on the recommendation of the best climber I know. I saw a guy lead climb a 5.13d a few days ago. That's really hard. In comparison 5.12a is easy. In the past year I've seen a few climbing videos of guys climbing 5.14s and even 5.15s and those are even harder. When I see or hear of someone doing something harder than what I do it makes it easier to do what I do. It is a huge mental breakthrough.

When I look at a particular goal of mine I consider than many people have done harder things and I tell myself that I have the experience to do it. The goal becomes much easier. Breaking a world record or being the first to do something is always harder than being the second or the 1274th person. There is no one to ask for advice. The challenge might not be possible.

I dealt with this concept in my running through high school and college, and I still deal with it. What is fast running? In rock climbing what is hard? As far as mountain altitude, what constitutes high altitude versus moderate altitude? In education what constitutes a difficult concept to learn?

I believe that everyone has something positive to offer. Some gift or some area he or she excels. That is to say for Tommy Caldwell 5.12 is easy. For Chris Solinsky running a five minute mile is not very fast. For many scientists and engineers, physics is not hard, it's fun. Bringing the mentality of "only" a known and conquerable difficulty to a problem makes it possible and even probable that it will be finished well.

As an engineer we were taught to think a certain way. Engineers break up a problem into smaller steps that have to happen in a particular order. Many of my classes involved using several different equations in a certain order to find the answer. Using that mentality climbing a 5.12 becomes only a matter of answering the questions: Where do I put my feet? How do I place my feet (at what angles)? Where do I put my hands? What is the most energy efficient use of my hands? Is my weight on my feet instead of my hands? Am I in balance?

Finally, there is one last component to climbing hard, the physical strength. Can I actually grab a half centimeter thick ledge with three fingers with enough force to keep myself from falling off? Can I keep my feet on that same size ledge? There is a certain amount of strength that is needed to do this kind of climbing. However, having the confidence that you can do it makes a greater difference.

I like throwing new pupils at a task beyond anything they have ever done. Wether that is taking a teenager four pitches up a very steep mountain face for his or her first traditional rock climb, running with a runner farther than he or she has ever run before, or teaching someone how to use a complex computer program. I am thrilled by the expressions on their faces during the event as they wonder if they can do it. I am more thrilled after the event by the way they walk and talk as their confidence goes through the roof. Many people complete a new challenge and think, 'Wow, I just did that!... What else can I do?' I am thrilled when people question the bounds of what is possible. I like answering the question "We can do that?" with the answer "Of course we can!"

The moral of the story is: it's only 5.12, of course you can do it, if that's what you decide to work towards.

It's Not Rocket Science: Week 16

This is the week of August 18-24. Yeah, I've had that much internet access in the past week.

I ran a stunning and somewhat painful 42 miles. All of that was recovery miles. I did not take any days off but my lower right leg became more painful. While not running workouts and runs over 90 minutes is sad, I am still so thankful to run. I am also comforted by the fact that I ran a fast loop around the Indian Peaks. It turns out that some people did it in 4:59 last summer so I never had the fastest known time. Or at least I only did for a few hours. That's fine though. I am really amazed that they did it in less than five hours. That's moving pretty fast. The day I began mountaineering in 2002 (climbing "South Massive" and Mt. Elbert in the same day) my family went out to steak that night and the waitress said after hearing of my feat,  "Just when you think you did something really hard, like climb a mountain, someone else does something harder."

Job searching, well, I could use more internet and phone lines during business hours, but I'm busy working.   Tomorrow is going to be a day of phone calls! Am I terrified of being unemployed for the rest of the year? Not as much as I once was. Everything always seems to work out. Besides, I hear British Petroleum is hiring...

Current work: It was the busiest week of the summer. I was in the kitchen doing dishes all the time, running rock climbing like crazy, and just getting it done. My sister came up and was a huge help to our camp which was a little short staffed from normal because of several members going to the Boy Scouts National Jamboree. We managed to get through it and no one died. I used to say that as a bit of a joke but after Pakistan I'm very serious.

My personal climbing is going well enough. The climbing gym Movement in Boulder celebrated it's 1st birthday on the 24th so I went down with another staff member and I managed to get up a 5.12b and 3/4 of a 5.12a (after I was tired). Since breaking through to the 5.12 range of climbing I have reached a new mental level and approach climbs differently. I'm working on an article about that...