We got our things together the night before, and got up early Saturday morning to start the long drive to Paradise, WA. After a quick stop in Graham, WA to drop the dog off with a sitter, we arrived at an already very crowded Visitor’s Center. We also arrived to an absolutely amazing site: lush, green grass, beautiful wildflowers and Mt. Rainier towering over us against a beautiful blue sky. What a stark contrast to when we were here in June!

I had decided back in June that I was ready to ask Michelle a very important question, and after our memorable and unfortunate first visit to Mt. Rainier (things got even worse for Michelle the night after we returned), I knew that our next visit would be the perfect time to do so. But more on that to come shortly.

Michelle, so unsuspecting.

We started up the paved path (lame, but I understand the whole ADA thing, so it’s cool), making good time and passing lots of people on the way. It didn’t take long for us to hit the Muir Snowfield. This appeared to be a turn-around point for many people, but we pushed on. We donned slightly more appropriate attire, re-applied the sunscreen, and stepped out onto the snow. We knew we were starting the hardest part of the hike.

We moved methodically up the snowfield, not too fast but not too slow, maintaining a steady pace. We took a couple of short breaks to take some pictures and grub some food. We reached Camp Muir about 1:45, approximately 3 hours and 45 minutes after leaving the parking lot. Pretty good for 4 miles and 4600′ of elevation! I proceeded to take a short nap, as I was tired and didn’t feel very good (I hadn’t eaten much and probably wasn’t drinking enough water, so a nap was the only thing that took away the light headache and nausea).

After chatting with a few others and generally enjoying the view, the time came to start our descent. But first, the very important question I mentioned earlier:

Yay! Seeing as this was honestly the only reason I suggested we hike Camp Muir again this season (even though I knew we wouldn’t be able to summit Mt. Rainier, which is where I really wanted to ask her to marry me), the trip was a HUGE success! Icing on the cake: neither of us had the slightest hint of sunburn, haha.

The lessons we learned from our first trip to Camp Muir served us very well on this trip, as we aren’t the kind of people to make the same mistakes twice. We felt much more confident in what we were doing and how it needed to be done, that I think we enjoyed the trip a lot more because there was little to worry about. The only downside to the trip? We didn’t bring plastic bags to sit on for glissading, and snow pants alone don’t really do the trick (too slow AND you end up with a cold, wet butt).

Next year we’re going to summit Mt. Rainier, for sure!

During the middle of last week, a friend of ours said, “hey, you guys wanna go to Camp Muir this weekend?” There wasn’t much hesitation – it was something we’d wanted to do for a long time and simply hadn’t found the time to do it (raising a puppy takes up a lot of free time!).

We left Bellevue around 7:30 AM Sunday morning and drove to Paradise, WA, where Mt. Rainier National Park is. At 10:30 AM we stepped off the pavement and onto the snow, to begin our 4 mile hike to Camp Muir about 5,000′ above.

It was a dreary day up and down the coast, completely cloudy and areas of light rain. We spent the first couple of hours hiking in wet, low visibility conditions. Enjoying the cool air, we took advantage of the colder temperatures to move at a brisk pace and hike in shorts and t-shirts… which would come back to haunt us.

Finally, at about 8,000′ we broke through the cloud cover and were greeted with crisp, white snow against a brilliant, blue sky, with a higher peak of Mt. Rainier looming over us. It was a spectacular sight, and something you normally only see from the window of an airplane.

We continued the long ascent, and reached Camp Muir just after 3 PM. We sat down, removed our boots and fired up the grill. PT had the great idea of bringing and cooking burgers (and a tuna steak for Michelle) at the camp. The smell was intoxicating and turned heads all over the camp. After eating energy bars, granola bars and other easily-portable food, the smell of cooking meat was enough to draw a lot of attention and create a lot of jealousy!

We ate and rested, and started our descent about 4:15 PM. We had been told it would take us two and a half to three hours to reach the parking lot. Realistically, we needed to do it in less because there was close to a 3-hour drive home and Michelle had to be at work at 11 PM.

So what better way to make a fast descent than glissading? Of course, we weren’t the only one’s with this idea, so some of the steeper sections of the trail had grooves and chutes ready for sliding. We brought along plastic bags to prevent tearing any clothing, and help keep dry. Glissading down Mt. Rainier is quite a rush, with some sections being a bit more adrenaline-inducing than others! (see video below).

We reached the parking lot just before 6:30 PM, way ahead of our expectations. Our descent took just about 2 hours! The glissading shaved off a lot of time. We started the long drive home, satisfied with what we had just accomplished and a little concerned about what was about to come…

If you’d like to see some more pictures, visit my photography blog here.

A Cautionary Tale

This was my first time on a trip that resembled anything in the category of mountaineering, and I’m sorry to say that I wasn’t as prepared as I should have been. Rather than beat around the bush, here’s the ugly side of Sunday’s trip:

Aside from the severe 1st degree sunburns on the backs of my legs, underside of my arms, and my neck, I’m also suffering from 2nd degree burns around my nose and mouth. How did this happen? Poor application of sunscreen is the biggest culprit, followed closely by the stupid decision to strip down to shorts and a t-shirt so that I could hike faster and remain comfortable.

So the next time I embark on any trip like this, there are a few lessons I’ve learned from this trip:

• SUNSCREEN. Don’t take this lightly. Use at least SPF30 and make sure you apply liberally to any skin that will be exposed to the sun for more than 15-20 minutes. Re-apply every 2 hours or as needed (better to be safe than sorry). Use lip balm with a high SPF.
• Wear the RIGHT clothing. Don’t hike in shorts. Don’t hike in short sleeves. Wear light-weight clothing that covers more skin. Wear a hat that protects your neck and face from the sun.
• Don’t embark on BIG day hikes when you have a tight timeline. It’s not safe to rush through a hike where you are covering 5,000′+ of elevation change over 4 miles. Give yourself plenty of time to make the trip at a safe pace.

I’m looking forward to hiking to Camp Muir again, and I hope to follow it with a trip to the summit of Mt. Rainier. But in the meantime, I’ve got 7-10 days to avoid all contact with the sun. I have to nurse the blisters on my face, keep my skin moisturized and hydrated, and try to get through the healing process with a little pain as possible.

Our good friend PT has lived out here for a few months now, and quickly suggested we make a trip out to the desert to climb at Vantage. He showed us the guide book and some pictures, which got us really excited about climbing something completely new to us.

The drive to Vantage from Seattle is pretty straight forward – 90 West all the way there. Cross the Columbia River and take a left onto Vantage Rd. We decided to spend our day at The Feathers, an area consisting of mostly easier climbs ranging from 5.0 to 5.10c.

Vantage - The Feathers

We got to Vantage a little later than we’d hoped, so it was already a little crowded. Not wanting to wait around to get on an easier route, I went ahead and set up a 5.10a for the three of us to climb (it was either Windwalker or Nightbird, I can’t remember). After that, we hopped around and got on a variety of routes from 5.8 to 5.10.

I was excited about getting on a route called “Hardening of the Arteries”, a 5.10c that was the hardest route at The Feathers. Here’s the beta, from summitpost.org:

A strenuous and fun climb, the hardest route at the feathers. Start on the left climbing up the right side of a broken crack that seperates this pillar from the next. Then traverse right to the first and second clips (overhanging at this point ~95 degrees). You’re now climbing up the right side of pillar, reach left for the third clip then begin traversing back towards the middle. Clip the 4th bolt and pull on your dead arms to the finish.

The route was a lot of fun. The first bolt scared a lot of people away because it was 16 ft. or so from the ground, which seemed uncommon for this area (based on other’s reactions), but having climbed so often at the New River Gorge, this was nothing new for me. The route was pumpy, but I sent it without any takes or falls, which I was excited about because I hadn’t climbed in about 2 months.

(photos courtesy of Michelle – I didn’t take any… oops!)

I’ve been experimenting with it at the gym lately to try and find some creative filming angles that provide an intriguing perspective while climbing (and not one that makes you sick). Having built a camera rig for my mountain bike a few weeks ago, I knew that PVC pipe was a good, light-weight material that the camera could be mounted to pretty easily with the bike mount. So I got to work figuring out a way to attach a piece of PVC pipe to my camelback and extend the camera up and over my head.

I started out cutting a piece of plexiglas (b/c that’s what I had laying around) to fit inside the camelback, using the bladder as a template. I then drilled holes down the center where the PVC pipe would be attached, and would allow me to adjust the height on the rig, to a degree. After attaching the PVC pipe to the plexiglas and placing the entire rig into the camelback, I used a piece of twine to secure the PVC pipe to the camelback (this was a temporary solution until I come up with something more permanent and easily adjustable). Put the whole thing on, cinch it down and have fun!

I had all but forgotten about the issue until I saw this update today: Massive Product Recall Rocks Auto-Belay Industry.

Much to my surprise, MSA has pulled out of the auto-belay scene entirely. After failing to replicate the problems being reported, and being unable to create a solution for a problem they couldn’t duplicate, MSA decided to cut its losses and abandon the climbing community.

What I find particularly frustrating about this situation is that it would appear MSA had very little to do with the accidents that occurred, and that they were forced to walk away from their auto-belay systems as a result of a few negligent owners who chose not to abide by the recommended maintenance and service schedule for the Redpoint™ Descenders.

On the plus side, it looks like there may be some encouraging technology on the horizon utilizing a magnetic system (similar to systems used in roller coasters) to create an auto-belay device that is safe and reliable, although I don’t see these coming to my local gym anytime soon.

Personally, I miss the auto-belay systems at the gym (even though I always felt a little uneasy using them). Being able to climb by yourself was convenient, especially if you found yourself at the gym without a belay partner.

I will be interesting to see where the future of auto-belay devices goes. I think the need for auto-belay systems will continue to grow as rock climbing becomes a popular alternative to traditional forms to exercise.

I picked up the GoPro Hero HD camera the day before, and took it along on the trip. Here is the short video I put together:

Retiring gear that is unquestionably damaged or unsafe is easy to do, but what about that piece of gear you’ve had for a few seasons now that seems to function just fine, aside from a couple of nicks and scratches? “It’s well loved,” “it’s broken in,” or perhaps you go with the old adage, “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”

I’m a first-time owner for much of my gear. I just purchased my first rope a few months ago, right along with my first set of draws; I purchased a few slings and some spare carabiners to make alpine draws and my PAS – everything I needed for sport climbing. Albeit just a few hundred dollars worth of gear, I can’t fathom replacing any of it already. I certainly don’t look forward to replacing expensive cams on a regular basis.

My lack of enthusiasm for replacing gear is largely due to my financial situation – I don’t make a lot of money, especially for where I live. So replacing hundreds of dollars in gear every year is hard for me to stomach. But when enough is enough, will I be able to replace my gear?

I’m scared to think that the answer might be “no” and that might not change until either myself or someone I’m close to suffers the consequences of using gear that should have been replaced.

That’s a scary thought, I know. The prospect of seeing anyone hurt by damaged or unsafe gear scares me a lot. But the reason I’m afraid I won’t replace gear that isn’t obviously broken is because I’m still using my harness that I bought in… 2002, I believe.

Sure, it passes all visual inspections, but the article on backcountry.com states,

Nylon has an ideal shelf life of about 10 years. This is how long a harness will maintain it’s strength if it sits in a climate-controlled room without ever being used or exposed to sunlight.

10 years. I’ve been using mine on-and-off for 8 years, meaning I should probably have purchased a new harness when I got back into climbing regularly – about 2 years ago. I’ve had a couple of discussions about it with my girlfriend, who has strongly recommended I purchase a new harness. But I haven’t been able to pull the trigger because my harness SEEMS to be functioning just fine.

Maybe what I should be doing is taking advantage of the free shipping offer over at Backcountry.com right now.

As for the rest of my gear, I’ll be bookmarking these two articles from Backcountry so that I can remind myself to check my gear regularly AND so that I know what I’m looking for.

• When To Retire Climbing Gear Part 1: Ropes, Harnesses, Slings, Helmets
• When To Retire Climbing Gear – Part 2: ‘Biners, Cams and More

So tell me, what signs do you adhere to when choosing whether a piece of gear should be retired? And (do I dare ask), have you ever experienced the consequences of damaged/unsafe gear being used and failing? (Kind of a macabre question, I know, but sometimes it puts things in perspective to hear the bad stories.)

I have always, and I mean ALWAYS, wanted a pair of velcro climbing shoes. I’d seen climbers at the gym with them and it seemed so convenient and efficient. But the selection of shoes at the local outdoor store was limited, and I refuse to buy shoes without trying them on first.

On my prior visit to EMS for climbing shoes, when I finally landed on the La Sportiva Nago shoe, I tried on every shoe they had available. When it came to the shoes without laces, I had the same problem with every brand (available): there was too much room in the toebox when the shoe fit comfortably, and when I sized down enough to actually fill the toebox, the shoes hurt too much.

When the time came to get the Nago’s resoled, I decided to head back over to EMS and pick up a second pair of shoes (Why EMS? Because I get 15% off with my Sportrock membership). The selection hadn’t changed much, except for two shoes: the Scarpa Techno and the Scarpa Force.

When I first slipped the shoe on, I noticed something different – there wasn’t a lot of space above my toes in the toebox (very much unlike every La Sportiva, 5.10 and Evolv velcro shoe I tried). I sized down to a EU 41 / US 8 and I KNEW this was the shoe I would be walking out of the store with. A snug fit with no hotspots or pressure points, which was surprising seeing my toes were curled and scrunched up in the toebox. But it just felt right.

That was almost a year ago, and the Scarpa Force is still my primary climbing shoe for the gym and the crag. The shoe is fully synthetic, so you don’t get the stretch that you would with a leather shoe. As a result, the fit is almost exactly the same as it was the day I purchased them, except the shoe is more molded to the shape of my feet (you can see the bumps from the knuckles of my toes in the top of the toebox – click the image to view a larger version).

Perhaps my favorite aspect of this shoe is the power it allows me to place to the toebox. I can toe-in and edge on some of the smallest of features, without a lot of bend at the joints where my toes meet the ball of my foot. Picture a ballerina standing on her toes – I can do that in these shoes (although not for very long!). The support in the toebox is unsurpassed, especially for how comfortable the shoe remains.

The Scarpa Force has proven a more-than-capable shoe for both route climbing and bouldering. It has served me well on V6 and V7 problems in the gym, and 5.11 and 5.12 routes both indoors and out.

I have had only one complaint about this shoe. The rubber has a bad habit of pulling away from the upper material (Suede/Lorica®), as you might be able to see in the picture of my dirty shoes above. A little bit of superglue usually fixes this (and when Rock & Resole resoled them a few months ago they patched them up a bit as well). It’s not really a big deal to me, but it started happening only a few weeks after owning the shoe, which kind of surprised me. Perhaps it is a design flaw, or perhaps it is because I’m cramming my fat foot into a shoe that is probably a half or full size smaller than it should be!

So if you’ve struggled with the fitment of other brands of climbing shoes, particularly with how much space you have in the toebox, check out the Scarpa Force sometime. You might find yourself surprised at how different, and comfortable, the fit actually is, while providing great climbing support.

At $130, the Scarpa Force runs in the upper price range of climbing shoes available, but I think you’ll find them to be well-worth the investment, as you’ll have them for years to come.

This past September, over Labor Day weekend, I finally got back to the New River Gorge for a 3-day climbing trip. I was excited to get together with friends and do a lot of climbing!

Unfortunately, the weekend was a complete disaster for me. I hadn’t been leading much in the gym, and I couldn’t get past the head game of taking falls. I was hesitant to get on 5.8s, and only put up one 5.9 the entire weekend. Everything else that weekend I did on top rope, and didn’t climb anything harder than a 5.10 (and those I felt nervous on). But I climb 5.12s in the gym, so what gives?

Climbing at the gym had become boring. I showed up more to support others than to focus on my own climbing. I wasn’t enthusiastic about route climbing, and I had all but stopped lead climbing. While I wasn’t getting any stronger or weaker physically, I was suffering mentally. I didn’t realize how poor my mental game had gotten until that weekend at the New River Gorge.

The experience was a bit of an eye opener for me, and I knew I had to do something about it. Not only was it embarrassing to be afraid to climb routes that were well within my capabilities, it was frustrating to know that I could do it but give up before even trying.

I was determined to make an immediate change, knowing I would be back at the New River Gorge 3 weeks later. My plan for the gym was simple:

• 5.10 and below would be climbed on lead, period.
• 5.11 and above would be done on top rope, but if I climbed the route clean than from then on I had to climb it on lead.

So for 3 weeks I focused almost entirely on lead climbing. Lead, lead, lead. I focused on pushing past the mental barriers that had stopped me in my tracks over Labor Day weekend. And when I returned to the New River Gorge at the end of September, things looked a lot better. I was still a little nervous while climbing, but I put up multiple 5.10s that weekend.

I knew I wasn’t done though. If I’m putting up 5.10s without falling, than I should be climbing harder difficulties. I should be climbing routes with moves that I might not be able to make, or at least not onsight.

I had another New River Gorge climbing trip planned in two weeks. Once again in the gym I focused on leading. I started leading harder routes out of the cave, knowing those would really challenge my strength.

5.10+ out of the cave? Check.

Oh what’s that, a 5.11+ out of the cave? Sure, I’ll give it a go. One take and one fall later, I’m at the top. I successfully climbed a few other 5.11s on lead – now I’m feeling a lot more confident leading 5.11s in the gym.

So the third weekend climbing trip at the New River Gorge arrives and it is a blast. Against better judgement, I skip warming up on the easier routes and get right to it. First day I put up a 5.11d. It wasn’t pretty, but I set it up for everyone else to try.

The second day I start out putting up a 5.10c and 5.10d, and got two 5.11a routes later in the day (although one of those was on top rope). On the third day I climbed another 5.11d (on top rope). That route is now at the top of my “projects” list: “Mensa” at Brain Wall, in the Beauty Mountain crag.

So I’m happy to say that I’m both quickly and successfully working through the fears I was having a little over a month ago. I’m starting to ignore the little voice in my head – the little voice that used to boom, “NO!” but now only squeeks, “no?”.

In fact, I’m ignoring it so much now that last night at the gym I got on my first 5.12 lead, out of the cave. It wasn’t what you would call “pretty”, but I’m looking forward to working it some more and locking down the sequencing.

So if you’ve read this far, I wouldn’t mind hearing about the climbing fears you’ve encountered and what you’ve done, or been trying to do, to overcome them.

Other Resources:

Here are some other posts about dealing with fear that you might be interested in reading:

• Zen and the art of trad leading
• Fear
• Fear, Fitness and Climbing – DreamInVertical