vice/virtue

Oh, and because I think Matt is awesome and this clip is super clever, here’s a link to the Reel Water Productions short film about tackling Young Blood (5.13a) without a rope.

And here’s Matt himself talking about free soloing Young Blood. Includes spoilers.

Basically, I spent five days last month prancing around Squamish, B.C., sampling world-class granite and making a donkey of myself to win climbing swag. It took a lot of doing, let me tell you, and all I got was one chalk bag and a t-shirt. This sounds even less fantastic when you hear I was actually shooting for new rope or a harness. I did not win big. But I had big fun.

Now to really distill the essence of the Squamish Mountain Festival, for me, I’ll focus on the moments that mattered. Embarrassing and heartwarming celebrity moments with the people who made this event just as exciting as the local rock.

1. Free beer at Howe Sound Brewing Company. I’m walking out the door. Sonnie Trotter is at the front desk, mid-conversation with some dirtbag who looked vaguely familiar. I grab Sonnie’s calloused monkey hand, pump it twice, and exclaim, “Great presentation last night. Loved it,” then point (point!) at the guy Sonnie was chatting with and toss out, “Can’t wait for yours,” and continued my drunken momentum right out the door. I should’ve shouted “let’s do lunch” because that’s the kinda scmooze I had all over my face. I had no idea who the other guy was. Turns out, he was nobody.

2. Telling Cedar Wright my breasts once “saved my life” on a dangerous route. I think I said “boobs.”

3. Cheersing divorce with Majka Burhardt at the “Tight and Bright” party. There were three of us ladies, actually, and we were all three divorced. Yipee!

4. On stage. Climbing Matt Maddaloni’s hot climber bod as a demonstration for the human climbing competition. (See competitors here.) It was on request because the night before, I threw myself into two ridiculous on-stage competitions and, as mentioned, won a chalk bag. (See above.) Participating in the demonstration, that’s what nabbed the t-shirt. Thanks, Matt, you were a good sport. But I have one question. When I asked if you could support 150 pounds and you shrugged yes with your nonchalant smile, did you know how much weight I was talking about, seeing as Canadians do kilos and all? Or are you just that brave?

5. Missing Dave MacLeod’s presentation due to a flat tire. Not really a celebrity moment, but it involved jacking my car with a car jack and a chock pick, so I thought I’d mention it.

If you’re wondering what all I did to win swag, the best parts involved trying to sing the Canadian national anthem, taking off and putting on my bra in front of the bar crowd, dressing in a silver spandex leotard and picking out my hair for afro-fabulousness. Ta-da!

Say you’ve engineered the perfect climbing season. Your job, domestic status and location - everything organized to maximize your quality time at the crag. It’s maybe your third or fourth trip out when something goes wrong. Your protection zippers. You take a bad lead fall. Or, like Eric Kramak, you bail from a fifteen foot bouldering attempt.

This is Eric:

This is Eric’s cast:

While I get a huge kick outta pro climber news, I’ve been wanting to profile unsponsored and/or amateur climbers for weeks now. These are the guys and gals I see up close (almost) every day. They were my first inspiration and continue to challenge me in new ways. When I don’t think a big, twisted move on a roof is possible, they lean back like they’re in a Laz-E-Boy and stick it on the first attempt. You know, the climbers who are always a grade or two above you, warming up on the project you’ve been working for weeks. They’re also the climbers who are at your level. They sit and stare at the wall with you, sharing real or imagined beta.

I’ve seen Eric, uninjured, climbing at Stone Gardens for months now. Never really had the occasion to talk. But when I saw him hopping up a 5.10 in a cast, I knew he had to be my first victim.

So I took him out for a beer to hear his story.

Turns out it kinda fit with a theme I’ve had stuck in my head since reading and writing about the Alpinist interview with Alex Hannold. Hannold is a free soloist, sometimes, with an interesting take on risk. Personally, I named this blog after the weird human motivation to push limits, whether you’re exercising a vice or a virtue. If you’re living intensely, with everything you have, then even bad is good and you’re prepared for any price. Losing a job, losing friends, breaking a foot. And then new opportunities open up.

Eric injured himself by attempting to free solo a trad route he’d sent sans fall, in the dark, the night before. Luckily, he landed on his feet (not his head) and had friends to carry him out and drive him to the hospital.

Since then, he’s been through at least two casts and I hear there may be more bad news on the way. But Eric is a trooper. (Literally, he was in the armed forces.) Since he arranged his life around climbing this year, climbing is what he’s going to do. Having to take special care and precaution due to his foot, he’s learning to read climbs more accurately from the ground and also while he’s mid-route. He says the injury has actually made him a better climber.

That’s what I find most interesting.

The way each of us can or can’t move our bodies teaches us about the rock. Example: I know it’s hard for me to open palm a sloper with my right hand while my weight is situated directly below or slightly right of the hold. (Old wrist injury - tall bike jousting in a drunken haze.) Hurts like hell, so you best believe I keep my eyes open for moves like that. I could pick em out from 50 feet. (Exaggeration.) And since I don’t avoid them (just prepare mentally) this makes me a smarter climber.

Anyhoos, I’d like to congratulate Eric for his badass climber ways. And all the injured folk doggedly hobbling around the crags. You’re an inspiration. *Sniff* Hope you’re learning, and I hope for the swiftest healing!

Not everyone can be a dirtbag.

Climbing daily, dirty, and dangerously - this is a seductive prospect. Two weeks ago, when I was laid off from my full time writing gig, my first impulse was to take a few months and repurpose (if I may borrow the green speak) my time and my life. Forget the corporate hooha. Cycle the country. Or skip the country altogether and bum around Canada for a while. I couldn’t afford the Mt. Rainier summit trip I was planning for that weekend, but I could take a minute to plan and execute the escape I’ve always wanted. The escape any outdoor enthusiast always wanted.

Then I remembered my other responsibilities - unrelated to money-making. People depend on me as a volunteer and a friend.

So instead of running off permanently with a mummy sack and a pair of climbing shoes, I spent five days at the Squamish Mountain Festival. (Reports coming soon.) The blast was had. I loved the camping, the climbing, and the partying. Truth be told, I woulda been happy staying a lot longer. But I had to come back, and when I did, a new job was waiting. I took it.

To be the dirtbag I dream of being, I’d attain one dream and give up many others. Apparently, I’m not ready for that yet. Slightly disappointed in myself. But then, how many people get to climb, cycle, backpack, and then throw on clean shirt and pack away the cash in a cushy office job doing the other thing they love? I should feel proud of my balanced life - and I am.

After showing the film about his headpointed trad route last night, Sonnie Trotter announced that three days ago Ethan Pringle onsighted The Path.

Sonnie put up The Path last year after chopping some old sport bolts. This was after Dave MacLeod provided inspiration with Rhapsody in Scotland. Sonnie couldn’t finish the second ascent on Rhapsody due to not-unheard-of rain problems - so he came home and sought a similar beast in his own backyard.

In The Path film, Sonnie waxes about the ever-changing limits of climbing on the cutting edge. One climber defines what’s possible with his blood, sweat, and flappers, but inevitably another climber will come along to adjust that definition. What Sonnie headpointed with considerable time and effort, Ethan onsighted in “a lot less time.”

Testing

Soon after hearing about the successful Denali ascent made by a Summer Summit Challenge team, news came out that a climber with Alpine Ascents International died on the summit.

My condolences go out the family of James Nasti.

Here’s the story:

“A climber collapsed and died on the summit of Mt. McKinley on the evening of July 4, 2008. James Nasti, age 51, of Naperville, Illinois was a client on an Alpine Ascents International expedition that began their climb on June 20. According to the two expedition guides, Nasti exhibited no signs of distress or illness throughout the trip, and was climbing strongly immediately prior to the collapse. The guides administered cardiopulmonary resuscitation (CPR) for up to 45 minutes, but Nasti did not regain a pulse.

“Denali National Park mountaineering rangers at the 14,200-foot camp were immediately notified by the guides via radio. The team was instructed by the NPS rangers to descend carefully with the remaining four clients to the 17,200-foot camp, as there was no safe means of recovering the deceased at that time. Conditions were initially calm and clear on the summit, though weather began to deteriorate as the incident progressed.

“The 20,320-foot summit of Mt. McKinley features an exposed flat area roughly the size of a single car garage. Just below the summit, climbers must negotiate a 500-foot-long knife-edge ridge. A recovery along this ridge would require a highly skilled technical rescue team and a rope rigging system. Considering the high risk involved in such a ground lowering, as well as the excessive risk of a helicopter recovery at this extreme elevation, the National Park Service has determined that the safest alternative is to leave the remains of the deceased climber on the mountain at this time.

This incident represents the first time a mountaineer has died on Mt. McKinley’s summit. In 1988, a climber died at an elevation of 19,600-feet on a descent from the summit; the body was not recovered.”

Tanya Weaver from the American Foundation for Children with AIDS sent me this news today:

Justin Wood (Bellingham, Washington), Jeremy Ellison (Lake Tahoe, California), Johnny Davison (Lake Wanaka, New Zealand), and Aidan Loehr (Bellingham, Washington) summited 20,320-foot summit on July 1, carrying the flag of the “Climb Up So Kids Can Grow Up” drive for fund raising and public awareness of infant and childhood AIDS in Africa.

The alpinists flew onto the Kahiltna Glacier in the Denali National Park on June 15th.  They gradually worked their way up glaciers on the mountain’s western flank until reaching Camp 3 at 14,000 feet where they were pinned down by heavy snows and high winds for a week.  On July 30th they made it to a high camp at 17,200 where they spent two nights before making their summit bid on July 2nd.

According to Justin Wood, “There was great joy and pride in our group when after a very long summit day, we moved to the top and set foot on the 20,320’ summit of North America.  We were personally psyched, and we were all very excited to be using the moment to be drawing attention to the AIDS epidemic and to the fact that by working together and by staying committed, we will find a solution to this immense problem.”

Congrats to this dedicated bunch!

Tomorrow, I’ll be heading to Mt. Rainier in uncertain weather to train and do altitude acclimation. All in the hopes of summitting next weekend for the very same cause. I’m fudging on the dates by a week, but this climb is part of the Summer Summit Challenge. Justin Woods, Tyler and Clare Cook, George Watkins, and I are taking on the highest peaks in our areas to raise funds for pediatric HIV/AIDS supplies and advocacy. Haven’t heard how George, Tyler, and Clare are doing, but I hope they’re well on their way or home safe!

If you’d like to sponsor me, click here for the online donation form and mention “Summer Robinson - Summer Summit Challenge” in the comment box.

*Correction: the Alpinist weekly features cover soloing of all sorts. Not just free soloing. This week, they interview Silvia Vidal on big wall aid soloing.*

Been following the Alpinist weekly feature on free soloing, a style that captivates, stumps, and kinda horrifies the climbing community in equal measure. If you go to YouTube and search “rock climbing,” Dan Osman’s speed free solo at Lover’s Leap comes up first with 518,760 views, 5 stars, and 559 comments. When Climbing Magazine themed an issue after free soloing, they painted a dark picture of depression and self-destruction.

But since when has rock climbing been for perfect people only? Is free soloing any different than ascending an X rated route? Free soloing is a contentious issue, but I think it deserves respect just like any (and every) other style. Which is why I’m pleased with Alpinist magazine’s unbiased recognition.

Last week was Alex Hannold. A young American climber who made a name for himself free soloing Astroman (5.11c, 300m) and the Rostrum Regular North Face in Yosemite in a day. After that he free soloed Moonlight Buttress (V 5.12+, 9 pitches, 1,200′) in Utah’s Zion National Park.

About .5 seconds into the interview, you see Hannold is pure rock jock. He does nothing outside of climbing, which tells you right off the bat this kid has crackpot tendencies. (People think I’m crazy for climbing 3-5 days a week and I still have my day job.)

Now, I’m one of those “free choice” sorta people who says, to each their own. Every rock climber takes risks the general public often fails to understand. To argue that we’re duty-bound to minimize those risks as much as possible is bunkus. If that were the case we’d all be top-roping at the local crag day in and day out. I don’t know what mountaineers would do. Stay home and use the stair-stepper in front of the Discovery Channel, I guess.

That said, as I read Hannold’s interview, I can’t help but think he thinks about risk and safety in a completely not-based-in-reality sort of way.

Hannold got into free soloing because he couldn’t find partners. He continued for the thrill. He loves excitement, exposure, and total commitment. Ok, cool. Sounds like most of us, even if we make a show of by-the-book safety precautions.

Hannold says other things I can relate to, too. “When I lead I can often just charge ahead. Soloing requires more.” Many climbers I know, myself included, feel the same way about top-roping vs. leading. Hannold might be a step up on the scale, but the mental exercise is identical.

Then his reasoning gets a weird.

“The first time I soloed it was a little scary. Everyone says, “If your foot pops you die,” or “What if you get stung by a bee?! You’d die.” One by one I had all those things happen to me. I’ve blown feet, had birds come out of cracks, had bats hiss (which always scares the shit out of me), and nothing ever came of it… I haven’t died yet.” Emphasis on the yet.

I remember my dad used to mock and ridicule children who played in the street. He’d fake a kid voice, say “A car hasn’t hit me yet,” and put this goofy look on his face that meant total tragic innocence.

Put another way, Hannold can’t prove that (competent) free soloing is safe. He can only disprove it. So I’m wondering, does he really think he’s discovered a fool-proof method for not falling?

And more generally, do all climbers sound like this to non-climbers?

In a roundabout way, examining the free solo perspective gives me insight into the entire sport. The style may very well be the origin and natural conclusion to rock climbing. By picking apart Hannold’s reasoning, I see I’ve been thinking the same way all along, but with a larger community and (imperfect) precautions to back me up.

I guess the question should never be “why take risks,” but rather “how much risk are you up for today?”

Bless the season, it’s been busy.

Between working full time and freelance, rock climbing part time, prepping for Mt. Rainier, volunteering at the Mountaineer’s Library and now Stone Gardens and soon Passages Northwest, tutoring at the Literacy Source, moving and nesting in my new apartment, trying to keep as much skin as possible on my hands and feet, occasionally shutting down for 12 hours at a time, not falling off the planet where my friends are concerned, blogging, and bicycling between all these points so I arrive breathless and sweaty wherever I go, there’s precious little time for the other things I enjoy. Like writing fiction and reading poetry. Two things I used to think of as my sole hobbies. But then I grew up, got comfortable as a writer, and was finally able to “do more.”

Things take a lot of time.

Today, when my literacy/citizenship student rescheduled our session, I didn’t try to whip out a few lines for a story I’ve taken far too long to write. I didn’t crash and crawl into bed by 7. I didn’t go climbing because my toes are blistered (hiking) and cut (stupidity) and strained (bicycle accident).

I went to my kitchen, picked up a cook book, and decided on vegan lasagna. Then I went to Albertsons. I actually went to a grocery store. For ingredients. For dinner. Tonight. It felt so…normal.

Apparently, I eat out too much.

Now the lasagna is baking, my flowers are watered, and I’m going to read some Thom Gunn. After I sneak in this blog post. Because truth be told, some people couldn’t relax if they had a lifetime to learn how.