Whittaker Writes

Roadtrip Part 6: Thanksgiving Crack Climbing at Indian Creek, Praying for Snow in Salt Lake City

2011-12-04T14:53:00.000-08:00

November 20—Salt Lake City, UT I take it as a good omen that on our first night in Salt Lake City it’s snowing. Freya and I are planning to spend the winter here skiing and there is nothing more exciting to a skier than an 8-12 inch forecast. If we didn’t have to find a place to live I would probably go skiing tomorrow, but it’s proving frustratingly difficult to meet a landlord willing to

Roadtrip Part 5: Reunions and Reinvigoration at Joshua Tree National Park

2011-11-29T12:33:00.000-08:00

November 9—Joshua Tree National Park, CA The last and only other time I’ve been to Joshua Tree was a week after graduating college in the spring of 2007. Nine other climbers and myself piled into three cars and drove 18-hours without stopping, going 90 mph through the California night. We arrived at Ryan Campground at 11am, exhausted and ecstatic. Clean boulders, sharp and bulbous, surrounded

Roadtrip Part 4: Sport Climbing in Owens River Gorge and Driving Through Death Valley

2011-11-18T10:18:00.000-08:00

November 4—Bishop, CA Evenings grew colder, announcing November. While we cooked dinner, a storm brewed in the twilight. Each frigid gust was stronger than the last. The wind soon pulled our stakes from the dusty ground and we were obliged to strike the tent. We packed it haphazardly into the driver’s seat, lay our pads down in the rear of the car and closed the hatchback. The car rocks gently

Roadtrip Part 3: Climbing Cracks in the Shadow of El Capitan, Yosemite Valley

2011-11-11T10:20:00.000-08:00

October 30—Camp 4—Yosemite Valley, CA What an incredible day of climbing! We got to the base of “Nutcracker” before the sun warmed the rock. I exhaled warm air onto chalky fingers, double checked my harness and climbed. I had studied the guidebook for hours the night before. It said, “Only confident 5.8 lead climbers should attempt this route.” My confidence waned. I’ve led harder cracks

Roadtrip Part 2: Smith Rocks to Lake Tahoe

2011-11-05T16:19:00.000-07:00

October 22—Lava Beds National Monument, CA After six straight days of climbing at Smith Rocks we left this afternoon and motored south through fields of sagebrush. A melancholy feeling filled the car. We were leaving a place we had grown to love but had barely explored. We had climbed many beautiful and difficult lines up the pocketed stone, including a multi-pitch traditional route called “

Roadtrip Part 1: Leaving Home, Climbing at Smith Rocks

2011-10-19T14:17:00.000-07:00

Leaving Port Townsend with a loaded car and roof rack. Our Hoopla 4 set up near Smith Rocks. Climbing is scary. Climbing hurts. Climbing is hard. The first few days of this month-long road trip have served as an excellent reminder. The pads of my fingers are sore. My hips and shoulders ache. My toes feel like they’ve been squished in a vice. One is torn and bloody. I haven’t rock climbed,

Working as a Climbing Ranger on Mt. Baker

2011-07-14T17:40:00.000-07:00

Since the beginning of June I have been working as a Climbing Ranger with the United States Forest Service on Mt. Baker. My partner, Brandon Helmstetter, and I are tasked with evaluating outfitter/guide services, removing waste from mountain campsites, writing conditions reports on approach trails and climbing routes, monitoring the number of recreationalists

First Paddle of the Pygmy Kayak

2011-07-07T12:29:00.000-07:00

Hatches cinched tight over luxurious amounts of gear, seat pad inflated, foot braces adjusted, I slide the shiny hull into the green water for the first time. A flutter of ripples emanates from the polished okume, bounces against the muddy shore. Mosquitoes buzz and hover, busily searching out nutrients in the sodden air, the rare patches of sunlight. The sky is

Pygmy Kayak Guru Lends Hand in Construction

2011-05-25T21:32:00.000-07:00

The Olympic Mountains, visible from the garage window, are veiled in humidity, but Port Townsend occupies a happy circle of sunlight. Admiralty Inlet calmly glows like a knapping cat purring on a warm lap, beckoning to be pet. Fine white dust covers every eclectic item on the cluttered shelves. The workbench is scattered with bastard files, sandpaper, dirty tongue depressors, spent

Spring Brings Motivation on Pygmy Kayak Construction

2011-05-10T15:21:00.000-07:00

As far as I can tell, there are two ways to build a boat. One can either fully immerse themselves in the project, working on a daily basis to complete the task as efficiently as possible. Or he/she can build the boat in free moments when other, more pressing matters are not occupying the day. It could be a few hours after dinner and before

Powder Turns Discovered on Hurricane Ridge

2011-03-30T12:19:00.000-07:00

Hurricane Ridge Roostertails 2011 from Freya Fennwood on Vimeo. After returning from Mount Anderson, Freya and I went up to Hurricane Ridge in search of the powder that we had hoped to find deeper in the Olympics. As it turns out, the Ridge was closed for almost the entire time that we were gone because there so much snow. When the plowers finally opened the road, there was an incredible

Mount Anderson Winter Expedition Video-Part 2

2011-03-28T17:59:00.000-07:00

Mt. Anderson Winter Expedition 2011-Part 2 from Freya Fennwood on Vimeo. Part 2 of the video segment that shows Freya Fennwood and Leif Whittaker's attempt to climb Mount Anderson in the winter. Too far away to summit the mountain, the team decided to enjoy some much deserved ski turns on the slopes near the Dosewallips River in the Olympic Mountains.

Escaping Anderson with Ambitions to Return

2011-03-27T21:07:00.000-07:00

The summit is flanked with debris. Avalanche crowns cut across couloirs, depositing snow-boulders into gullies and basins like a knocked over bookshelf. These intimidating features, still miles away, are starkly visible from the edge of Honeymoon Meadows. I can’t imagine what they might look like up close and I won’t have a chance to find out. This flat-footed

No Summit This Time on Mount Anderson

2011-03-22T18:47:00.000-07:00

Sunshine. It seems like its been forever. Blue and gold mornings certainly have a different feel. Last night, as we sipped hot chocolate, Brandon told a story about spending weeks in the winter wilderness of Colorado. He said that the only thing to do when you’re cold, wet and miserable is to pray for a day of sunshine. I know all of us were praying devoutly

Mount Anderson Winter Expedition Video-Part 1

2011-03-20T18:33:00.000-07:00

Mt. Anderson Winter Expedition 2011-Part 1 from Freya Fennwood on Vimeo. Freya Fennwood and Leif Whittaker produced this video segment that chronicles the first part of their expedition to summit and ski Mount Anderson in the winter of 2011. Accompanied by Brandon Helmstetter, Jenna McAleer and Joss Whittaker, Freya and Leif attempt to follow the Dosewallips River drainage to its source on the

Difficult Terrain and Extreme Conditions on Anderson Winter Attempt

2011-03-18T19:02:00.000-07:00

Our heaviest sled is broken. The aluminum has cracked at the rivet where the haul-bars attach to the plastic hull. Heavy snowflakes fill the air like ash from a volcanic eruption, covering our jackets in sopping white blankets as we huddle together and discuss our options, which are few. We can either jury-rig a new haul system and keep going, or turn around

Anderson Winter Attempt Begins

2011-03-16T22:22:00.000-07:00

A snowplow pushes branches to the edge of the rain-soaked pavement. There isn’t a trace of actual snow on the ground, just brown and green debris that the wind has cleaved off the trees. For a few minutes as our two-car caravan trails the thundering plow, the sun appears, illuminating the bristling whitecaps on Hood Canal and producing a brilliant rainbow that ends in the

Preparing for Mount Anderson

2011-02-26T17:28:00.000-08:00

Powder doesn’t hurt. Soft falls turn stubble into Santa’s beard. My face is pure white except for my gums and if it weren’t for my smile I might be invisible. Both my skis are gone, buried in the slough. I will have to climb back up and wrench them out. They say if you don’t fall, you’re not trying. I must be trying really, really hard. In five days,

Hendrik Coetzee: Consumed

2011-02-11T14:29:00.000-08:00

I recently came upon this article in Outside Magazine Online about Hendrik Coetzee, an experienced whitewater kayaker who was tragically killed when he was attacked by a crocodile on a remote river in Africa. Although the article is written in somewhat melodramatic fashion, it subtly focuses on an important aspect of extreme sports that is often misinterpreted by the media. Those of us who

Splitboarding with Gear Junkies

2011-02-09T14:49:00.000-08:00

Whenever us gear junkies acquire a new toy we are always extremely excited to use it. Our eagerness can outweigh such influential factors as weather and commonsense. I once knew a hiker who wore a Patagonia rain jacket while approaching a desert tower in the heat of summer. I’ve known mountaineers who brought their ice axes on a rock climb. I even knew a rock climber who

The Pygmy Story Part 2: Bump and Grind

2011-02-07T12:19:00.000-08:00

Have you ever had so many projects going at once that you can’t make progress on any of them? I know, it’s rare for me too, but life occasionally morphs into rush hour on I-5 and when this happens there isn’t an alternative except to go with the flow. Traffic has been constant lately and the kayak construction gradually floated into the rearview mirror.

Zen in the Art of Frisbee

2011-01-29T14:59:00.000-08:00

There are moments in life—we’ve all felt them—when time stops, particles freeze, all that remains is action. They are simultaneously meditative, effortless, and rare. Often these moments flower from decades of repetitive practice, like an archer letting loose at a target. Other times, they explode from a point of intense focus—the hard pit of a ripe and mushy

Birthday on Hurricane Hill

2011-01-20T11:32:00.000-08:00

My birthday fell on a rather auspicious date this year—1/11/11—and I felt the need to celebrate it in style. I imagine that my idea of a stylish birthday celebration is quite different than most. Some folks wish for a big party in a decorated room and to drink the night away, reminiscing the merriment of moments past until blown-out candles signal age passing on

Surfing into New Years at Ruby Beach

2011-01-05T09:55:00.000-08:00

2010 has been a year of incredible adventures. I cannot think of another way to describe it. I have had more new and challenging experiences in the last 365 days than I have ever had before and these experiences have drastically changed my perspective on life. More often than not these days, I am full of passion and motivation, happiness and positivity. These

A Whittaker Christmas

2010-12-28T20:18:00.000-08:00

I haven’t played basketball since my micro-discectomy. It was in the high school gym, my home court. I played one too many games with the youngsters. They could still run and shoot. I was sore that night. I took some Advil and went to bed. When I woke up the next morning I could hardly move. The surgery happened a week later. I’ve been slightly hesitant to play

Turns Like the First

2010-12-16T22:31:00.000-08:00

Riding a pair of new skis for the first time is a rare treat. The Fischer Misfits were as clean as fresh powder when I took them out of the box. Black-and-white bottoms were serene. Not a single scratch. Not a sign of rust. They were a creation so beautiful that I was afraid to ride them through anything but the deepest line. After last

The Pygmy Story Begins

2010-12-11T10:05:00.000-08:00

Story by Leif WhittakerPhotography by Freya Fennwood The word adventure can mean many different things. It can mean an expedition to Mount Everest; a Scuba diving trip to the Great Barrier Reef; a backpacking journey into the Olympic Mountains. Not many people would dispute that these activities are adventures, but what about taking a drive to a neighboring town, developing a new relationship,

Winter is a Beach

2010-11-30T13:29:00.000-08:00

Author's Note: I must apologize to the readers of this blog for not posting stories more frequently over the past few months. I intend to return to a regular posting schedule and I hope you all continue following the blog. Enjoy the winter! Photographs by Freya Fennwood @font-face { font-family: "Times"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt;

The Passing of an Era

2010-11-13T11:21:00.000-08:00

I was surprised and saddened to hear that Dave Niehaus, the original voice of the Mariners, died of a heart attack a few days ago in his Bellevue home at age 75. The iconic announcer had called Mariners games since their first pitch in 1977, but he once said that he felt like he hadn’t worked a day in his life; he loved the game of baseball that much. Discovering this

Show Sold Out! Second Show Added: Nov 11th

2010-10-22T18:26:00.000-07:00

The Mount Everest slideshow that I am presenting on October 26th is sold out! Thank you all for showing so much support. I have decided to present a second slideshow on Thursday, November 11th at 7:00pm at the Northwest Maritime Center, the same location as the first show. Tickets for this second show are available at the Wooden Boat Chandlery and at Wildernest Outdoor Store, same as before.

"The Story" Premiere

2010-10-22T11:10:00.000-07:00

I'm heading to Los Angeles on Saturday morning to attend the premiere of "The Story" a film about people who love mountains. The film, produced by the Ski Channel, features celebrity skiers such as Bode Miller and Lindsey Vonn, as well as yours truly, L.R. Whittaker. The premiere takes place on Sunday, October 24th at 6pm. If you're in Los Angeles I would love to see you there. Ticket information

Everest Slideshow: Tickets on Sale!

2010-10-01T16:54:00.000-07:00

For the first time since returning from the summit of Mount Everest in June of this year, Port Townsend native Leif Whittaker will present stories and photographs from his expedition to the top of the world. Surrounded by water and mountains from birth, Leif developed a passion for the outdoors that has also taken him to the highest summits of Antarctica and South America.

Forbidden Rock

2010-09-28T09:44:00.000-07:00

Tyler, a close friend who has been rock climbing in Yosemite for the past year, comfortably enjoys the coarse granite and infinite exposure of Forbidden Peak’s West Ridge. I, however, have not rock climbed in almost eight months and the feeling of sticking soft rubber to hard rock is unfamiliar and invigorating. Here in the heart of the North Cascades, on one of the most aesthetic and remote

How to Enjoy a Northwest Fall

2010-09-10T11:46:00.000-07:00

Maple leaves fade to yellow and orange. Grey clouds threaten rain but deliver mist. It permeates the air. Gas thickens to liquid until breathing is like drinking. Indian summer still hides like backlight in a cave. A secret escape from the collapse that fills in around us. Summer has been canned and preserved: peaches, raspberries, blackberries, pickles. But I already want

Television Story Airs!

2010-08-25T10:46:00.000-07:00

This story by Evening Magazine aired last night at 7pm. They did a pretty good job I think. Enjoy! Share

Evening Magazine Story

2010-08-24T11:42:00.000-07:00

Evening Magazine, a northwest news magazine show, will be airing a story about my ascent of Mt. Everest tonight (8/24) at 7pm. It will be on King 5 if you are in the Seattle area. Check it out! Share

Something Needs Doing

2010-08-02T13:10:00.000-07:00

Old fashioned work. Manual labor. Palms grasp structural lumber, hold it in place, nail it home. Wrists are sore from swinging a hammer all day, into the night. Sam burns rotted snags, a flaming heap to the south. The waterlogged, decaying trees burn slowly but steadily, protecting hot coals until morning. There is still warmth in the pit when I put my hand in

Why?

2010-07-24T16:48:00.000-07:00

This is a piece by my brother Joss. He shares my interests in adventure and he has kindly contributed this article about the reasons why we climb mountains. Look for more of his writing on this blog in the future. By Joss Whittaker Leif has graciously invited me to contribute to his blog, so I thought I’d start out by trying to answer a question that I’ve been asked many times, and have a hard

Greener

2010-07-01T16:22:00.000-07:00

Author's Note: Thank you all for your support over the past few months while I have been climbing Mount Everest. I must apologize for letting this blog lie dormant, but I can assure you it was for a good reason. I'm back home now and will be posting with the same regularity that I maintained before I left. Unseen photos from Everest coming soon! What now? It’s a question many people have been

Solo Khumbu

2010-04-03T20:57:00.000-07:00

Namche Bazaar to Deboche Three days of rest in Namche Bazaar (11,500ft) has me feeling like my normal self again. Colorful tin roofs protect the stone buildings and paint the terraced valley into bright contrast with the black and white Himalaya. Sunshiny mornings heal cold nights. Occasionally, it snows and the streaming prayer flags that hang from every eave flap like birds in the opaque sky.

Tough Gets Going

2010-03-31T02:55:00.000-07:00

Note: I am now in Namche Bazaar (11,500ft) and feeling much better, so don't worry! Tomorrow we move up the Khumbu Valley to Deboche and away from normal communications. This will likely be the last post on this blog, but there will soon be video and photos up on the First Ascent Blog. There will also be basic info on the RMI Dispatches site. Thanks for following along! Departure Saying goodbye

Where to follow the Everest Expedition

2010-03-22T20:31:00.000-07:00

Well, as you can see, I'm almost ready. My flight to Kathmandu departs at 4pm on Wednesday afternoon. Loading gear into duffels, erasing memory cards and charging batteries, saying goodbye to friends has forced what was once just a grand idea, a blurry image somewhat anticipated but completely uncertain, to become a shockingly tangible reality; maybe it's impossible not to feel a bit nervous.

How to train for Everest? Walk uphill

2010-03-12T11:03:00.000-08:00

Charred stumps, fallen Douglas Fir trees as big around as two-lane tunnels (they must have made a sound) block the trail. My backpack scrapes blackened logs, the fabric staining instantly, a dark tattoo that betrays histories, wilderness legends of recent pasts. We’re in the heart of the Dosewallips burn, sharing water at the chaotic start to the steepest trail in the Olympic National Park: the

Antarcitca, Mt. Vinson Told by Video

2010-03-10T17:12:00.000-08:00

Author's Note: Like Aconcagua, these are unedited snippets of video that I am happy to share with you. If you're looking for details about the climb, read the blog entries labeled Antarctica. Enjoy! Before leaving for Antarctica we had a chance to visit a penguin colony near Punta Arenas. These odoriferous little guys are all Magellanic penguins. Twin Otter lands on the Branscomb Glacier at

Aconcagua Told by Videos

2010-03-09T22:56:00.000-08:00

Author's Note: While climbing in South America and Antarctica I recorded about half an hour of video. Due to severe deficiencies in computing power I have been unable to edit this video, but I wanted to share a few moments regardless. I will be including some from Mt. Vinson in the next post. Let me know what you think. And enjoy! A mule train crosses our path as we ascend the Relinchos Valley

Aconcagua: Descent

2010-03-03T09:08:00.000-08:00

Thanks to Billy Nugent, Walter Hails, their two clients, and our impeccable timing, we are able to swap gear at Colera camp on our way down from the summit. They’ve left stoves, fuel, pots, and a tent at chopper camp, so we breeze through Colera, leaving the same gear for them with wishes of good luck and good weather—they’ll be going for the summit tomorrow. We also chat with Gabi, who has

Aconcagua: Summit Day

2010-02-26T15:04:00.000-08:00

At 4am, Armageddon still thrashes outside, but maybe, just maybe, it’s tapering off a bit. I’m thinking our summit bid is ruined, but I’ve forgotten that we’re a strong and fast two-person team. Jake doesn’t seem worried. In fact, he seems confident. “Here’s what I’m thinking. We sleep for a few more hours, give the wind a chance to die, get up around 730 or 8, check things out. If it’s decent

Aconcagua: Ascent Continued

2010-02-22T18:26:00.000-08:00

Carry Finally the wind stops. We take advantage with a heavy carry to Camp 2, chopper camp, a triangular plateau next to an ice river at 18,000-feet. It’s called chopper camp because there are old helicopter parts—tail fins, radio boxes, instrument panels, rotors—strewn randomly about, residue of some past, thin-air catastrophe. The hike only takes us two and a half hours, which gives me time

Aconcagua: Ascent

2010-02-21T11:40:00.000-08:00

There are three daily options in expedition-style climbing: resting, carrying, moving. Rest Resting, for me, is leftover soup, brief uphill strolls, short downhill jogs to get the heart and lungs pumping, 20 push-ups, stretches, Annie Proulx’s That Old Ace in the Hole, Neil Young and Modest Mouse on my iPod, more soup, journals, naps, candy. That’s how we occupy our first day at base camp. The

Aconcagua: Approach

2010-02-20T14:13:00.000-08:00

February 1 Punta de Vacas (8900ft)—beige shipping container transformed into ranger station, gnarly fences crossed together with wire—is where our climb begins. Standing still, the heat is almost unbearable. Dust waves wrinkle the spiky landscape while a breeze splashes mist from the Vacas River, which churns methodically downhill. We carry little: three liters of water, snack food, raingear,

El Fede

2010-02-19T17:21:00.000-08:00

Lunch and dinner are the same for five days: steak, Malbec, various potatoes, rolls pervading throughout. Occasionally, just to keep things interesting, we’ll visit the heladeria, order half-kilo Styrofoam bowls full of dulce de leche, chocolate, menta that take 45-minutes to consume while we’re splayed on shaded benches in the Plaza de Independencia, watching Argentine youths dance their

Photos from The Ice

2010-01-30T08:37:00.000-08:00

Boarding Ilyushin at Punta Arenas On the way to Low Camp. Shinn and Epperly in background. Low Camp. Epperly in background. About to leave for summit push. Kitchen shelter at Patriot Hills.

Antarctic Adventure: Day 7-Day 12

2010-01-30T07:52:00.000-08:00

Day 7: 01/18/2010 The other teams are a day ahead of us, which means they’ll be pressing for the summit while we’re moving to High Camp, but from the looks of the weather—grotesque lenticular waves, flowing gowns dressing summit and ridge—they’re going to encounter some wind. Even on the fixed lines a breeze picks up and I’m forced to halt the rope team while I add a shell-layer to my protective

Antarctic Adventure: Day 4-Day 6

2010-01-27T15:29:00.000-08:00

Day 4: 1/15/2010 A day of moving. Tear down tents in scalding light. Stuff packs as if you’re insulating walls, every corner filled. It’s two-layer weather today. Polypro and thin fleece are barriers against UV more than temperature. In fact, the immaculate snow reflects such intense heat that I find myself rolling up my sleeves as I walk. I think I forgot to bring a pair of shorts. From our

Antarctic Adventure: Day 1-Day 3

2010-01-27T08:44:00.000-08:00

Day 1: 1/12/2010 It’s still January 11th in Port Townsend when the Ilyushin’s engines scream with counterforce and the plane rumbles to a stop, wheels scuffing blue ice, but here on the polar plateau, 700-miles from the South Pole, it is 2am on January 12th and the world is stunningly bright. “The ice is very slippery, especially with stiff mountaineering boots, so be careful,” says a neon

2010-01-26T16:44:00.000-08:00

its close but not quite, thought it was amusing though.

Worthwhile Distractions

2010-01-11T11:58:00.000-08:00

Lines and bags in Santiago Aside from general insanity, climbing mountains requires a specific mental state. The best mountaineers can ignore fatigue, ignore discomfort, and remain completely focused on each step, each movement of their body. It is not an inherent trait; it must be practiced like anything else. I find that packing bags, buying food and traveling to the mountain help me enter this

Waiting to Arrive

2010-01-09T18:42:00.000-08:00

Arrivals upon arrivals upon arrivals. Having arrived safely in Santiago, Chile after a 10-hour flight from Atlanta, I passed through customs with only a few suspicious glances from the giggly agent who made a show of inspecting my bags but barely looked at the actual contents once I opened them. Do the energy bars contain honey and dried fruit? Yes. Did I tell that to the agent? Of course not.

En Route Complaints

2010-01-09T18:35:00.000-08:00

This is a copy of something I wrote while waiting in the Atlanta airport. Preemptive apologies for anything offensive, but I always promise to be honest and this post is certainly that. The Atlanta airport seems to be unfinished. Pollack-esque black and white spattered plastic countertops in the bathrooms are surprisingly comforting in their disorganization. Clean toilets and good door locks

Last day before the land of the never ending sun.

2010-01-06T22:19:00.000-08:00

Leif has asked a few of us to contribute to his blog while he travels to the under belly of the world, occupying his time with ice, mountains, and perpetual twilight. Here are a few photos of his preparations and last day in North America for a while.

Antarctica and Beyond

2010-01-06T09:28:00.000-08:00

As some of you may already know, I am leaving for Antarctica on Thursday. There, I will be climbing Vinson Massif with the man that Men's Health calls 2009's "best mountain guide," Dave Hahn. The trip to the ice could last as long as a month, depending on weather, but will hopefully be more expedient. Due to the remote nature of this climb I will be unable to update the blog until I return to

caves. catfish & clemens.

2010-01-05T22:08:00.001-08:00

my mind is happy with the thoughts of what an adventure my friend Leif will have in the months to come. when i think of adventure, i am reminded of my early years in Illinois. In a landscape that was void of Arctic Peaks, i found myself surrounded by tall prairie grasses, muddy mississippis, mallards and a plethora of weeping willow that thankfully held my weight. to me adventure was walking out

Anatomy of a Good Party

2010-01-05T14:48:00.000-08:00

Parties can evolve. They can grow. They can become their own entity: something that stands alone, a creature that is manifested from the collective energy, ideas, efforts and emotions of the cadre. Bonnaroo, Rainbow Festival and Burning Man are examples of mass-gatherings that have evolved into something more than simple parties. These festivals are held annually. They are often hosted by the

Unwrapping Powder

2010-01-05T14:42:00.000-08:00

It snows for the first two days and is sunny for the next three. Red Mountain, in Rossland, British Colombia, is renowned for heavy snowfall and the winding unplowed roads that make access difficult. Joss and I drive from Port Townsend: ten road hours through empty Eastern Washington and gritty Spokane, northward on below freezing asphalt tributaries, across the border at night. We reach the

Prerequisite Hardships

2009-12-19T20:01:00.001-08:00

There is no snow at the trailhead. In fact, there is no snow for the first 3 miles—only ice and slush—so we have to carry our skis and boots. Strapped to the sides of my pack, tips meeting above my head, the skis make an awkward load. Joss and I are already tall, but the skis make us taller; they catch on high branches as we hike. A particularly robust limb nearly tosses me to the ground when I

Remembering Rain

2009-12-16T12:17:00.001-08:00

It’s night and it’s hard to tell that we have arrived in Washington. It’s cold and damp for sure, but this runway could be anywhere. Crosswords and cribbage boards distracted my mind on the plane. I have forgotten we were traveling. I don’t realize we are in Washington until the next morning. I think it’s very early when I open my eyes because it’s still dark outside, but when I look at the alarm

Ice Climbing and Snow Riding

2009-12-15T11:46:00.000-08:00

Who could have imagined a frozen waterfall so close? Two weeks ago, when I last hiked No Name Canyon, I remember a boulder-sized formation here. Now, there is a 50-foot wall of frozen pillars. Inspecting it, I notice a route that I might easily climb without protection; it is lower angle than the rest of the wall, but still 75-degrees near the top. Perhaps I can climb it without ice screws since

Road Trip Part 3: Thanksgiving Workout Routines

2009-12-09T10:18:00.000-08:00

Traditionally, Thanksgiving begins with cooking. Justin has purchased a 14-pound bird that requires stuffing, seasoning, and baking. Freya and I are sleeping on the living room/kitchen floor—they have a small apartment—so that when Justin rises at 8am and starts banging dishes around, we are forced to rise too. After making a Toad in the Hole for Justin, Freya and myself, I begin chopping onions,

Road Trip Part 2: Off-Widths and Ring Locks

2009-12-07T10:35:00.000-08:00

Indian Creek The windows are frosted over when I wake up. I feel like I’m in an igloo. Instead of emerging from the warm cocoon of my sleeping bag and rising to meet the brisk day, I lie there and scratch images into the frost. It reminds me of writing messages in dust on school bus windows. I wonder if Justin and Martina, who are similarly barricaded in the rear of their Forerunner, will

From Mountains to Desert

2009-12-03T10:45:00.000-08:00

Aspen above No Name No Name Canyon Twig Perched on Ice Cactus in Hunter Canyon, Moab Cottonwood Over River Rocks and Water Freya and I in Hunter Canyon

Road Trip Part 1: Searching for Hidden Treasure

2009-12-01T13:43:00.001-08:00

Saturday morning is hectic but exciting. The Subaru barely has enough space for all our gear. Shiny aluminum climbing protection nestles next to cardboard boxes filled with Satsuma oranges, whole wheat bread, avocados. Down sleeping bags are compressed into corners; copper-bottomed saucepans occupy a plastic bin; backpacks are piled almost to the ceiling. Our bedroom seems empty, our kitchen

Three Details

2009-11-16T11:48:00.001-08:00

1. Ankle crossed beneath my knee, lying in bed like an aborigine stands in the Outback, I contemplate the ceiling. The mattresses—two singles shoved together and covered with a flannel sheet—are lying on the floor. You are lying next to me talking about the future. “What are some things you want to do in your life?” you ask. I don’t know how to answer. I don’t feel like talking about the future

Crystal Water and the Ghost Horse

2009-11-14T12:17:00.001-08:00

It is my fourth day here. Yesterday I went for a jog along the Colorado River. There is a paved trail behind our house that follows the tumult east to west. It is sandwiched between elevated asphalt—I-70—and erosive brown water. I can’t believe this river feeds Sacramento; it seems smaller than the Hoh. Besides the racket, the trail is gorgeous. It is tiered into the depths of a cinnamon canyon

Images from Summer and Fall

2009-11-13T07:20:00.000-08:00

The top three are from Goat Wall in Mazama. The others are a texture distinctly Northwest.

Colorado: First Impressions

2009-11-12T09:35:00.000-08:00

Being a rock climber, mountaineer and skier, I am oddly biased against Colorado. It is a result of my contradictory nature. For years I have heard how wonderful Colorado is, how the snow is petal-soft, how the rock is sticky, how the sun always shines even in the heart of winter, and how the mountains are beyond comparison. It makes me sick! I am loyal to Washington, an outdoor mecca in its own

A Gruesome Tail

2009-11-06T10:32:00.000-08:00

Considering the nature of this story it is fitting that the events took place only a few days before Halloween. If you have heart trouble or if you are at all squeamish, I suggest you stop reading now and look for another, more tasteful entry of this blog. If, however, this introduction only makes you more intrigued, then keep reading, but remember that I warned you. ***** My family owns a

The Enticement of Snow

2009-10-29T09:33:00.000-07:00

Tunnel Creek Light streaming through my windows wakes me. Yesterday it was rain-heavy wind that spattered against the panes and disturbed my dreams. Today, it is sunshine. Rising and stretching to the ceiling, I feel the cobwebs of sleep disintegrate. The Olympics, which grey clouds have hidden for the last few days, look regal with their dusting of fresh white snow. The picturesque horizon

Seasons and Seasons of Seattle Support

2009-10-24T11:23:00.000-07:00

It is football season, in case you haven’t noticed, and the Seattle Seahawks are off to an abysmal start. Besides our most highly touted rookie, linebacker Aaron Curry, there are very few bright spots on the team. Our offensive line is absolutely decimated by injuries. Five different left tackles have started in six games so far, and their performances have mirrored the Emerald City weather; they

Edulis Dreams

2009-09-09T11:43:00.000-07:00

There is a procedure to follow when tasting unfamiliar mushrooms. First, look in the identification book and inspect the mushroom, making sure that all the key features that are described in the book match the features of the gorgeous fungus you are cradling in your arms. Then, if everything looks identical and you are fairly confident that you have an edible mushroom, start cooking. Cut the

On the Cusp of Change

2009-08-24T09:15:00.000-07:00

Although the sun remains powerful and the downtown busy, it is impossible to ignore that the season is changing. It is only late August, but something intangible seems to affect locals and make them pre-emptively prepare for fall. Maybe the air feels different; the crispness of moist decay assails our senses, reminding us that continuous rain and grey are soon to arrive. The transition is made

A New Student

2009-08-19T13:23:00.000-07:00

The instructor of a class may easily learn more from the students than they learn from him or her. Sharing the growth experience in this way can result in more effective learning for both parties. In my first true role as a youth instructor, I discovered a side of myself that was altogether unfamiliar and exciting. Throughout this process of discovery, which is still happening as I write this, I

From Easton to Emmons in 6 Days Flat

2009-08-08T10:22:00.001-07:00

Emmons Glacier from Camp SchurmanRegister Rock, RainierBaker's steamy craterHenry and Karen on Railroad Grade“I’m kind of in shock,” says Henry. “It’s been a long time since I carried this much weight.” My spindly legs and bony shoulders are saying the same thing. Thankfully, the trail is flat for the first mile. It gives us time to get accustomed. It’s amazing how quickly it happens. One moment

Mt. Baker's North Ridge

2009-07-08T11:49:00.000-07:00

All photos by Tyler Lappetito.Mt. BakerBrandon leading crux.North Ridge above crux. Last push.Summit plateau.Tyler and I on Grant Peak.Here is a link to Tyler's post on Cascade Climbers. It starts with a 7-mile bike ride. Brandon and I carry heavy backpacks. Two ice tools, bivy sacks, sleeping bags, warm clothes, mountaineering boots weigh us down. Tyler has panniers on his bike, so he loads them

Deception

2009-07-03T09:43:00.000-07:00

The day after hiking Mt. Townsend with the kids, Freya, Anna and I climb the 7-mile trail up the Dungeness River to Royal Basin. During the three and a half hour hike we are caught in only a few patches of sunshine peeking through the clouds to bathe the valley, which is like a mirror of dew. Otherwise, a dense grey mist keeps us cool. We can move faster in this weather, but we are in no rush. We

Community on Mt. Townsend

2009-06-21T09:52:00.000-07:00

There are seven kids hiking with us. Mt. Townsend is covered in fog, which isn’t disagreeable because it keeps us cool, makes the hiking easier. A view of the Cascades would be nice, but the kids who have cameras, Evan and Dillon, are content to snap macro shots of the dewy lupines. The other five—Nico, Will, Ethan, Hopi, and Josh—catalogue the sights in their heads, form memories easily as

Lightning and Inspiration

2009-06-17T17:31:00.000-07:00

I’m back in Mazama, back on Prime Rib. The middle of the sixth pitch is exposed—stratified ledges, knobs, holds like window trim. It’s raining. Dark clouds seem close when you’re this high up. The Methow valley, a thousand feet below, is veiled in spattering mist. The route is getting drenched like it’s cotton. Half the holds I would normally use become dangerously slippery. Still, I climb

Chimacum Rock (Big Rock)

2009-06-09T09:08:00.000-07:00

It is easy to complain about a moss-covered rock speckled with old bolt hangers, shrubs, and Hadlock grime, but at least we have a local place to climb. Visible from Highway 20 behind Carl’s Building Supply, Big Rock (or Chimacum Rock) is basically a chossy pile of grey stone that protrudes from the residual forest behind a trailer park. A white heart is spray-painted on the wall’s left face,

Mt. Constance

2009-06-02T08:38:00.000-07:00

Last ridge before summit.Traversing on descent.(Here is a link to Tyler's Trip Report on Cascade Climbers. More great photos!)“You know what would be nice right now? Bikes,” says Tyler with more than a hint of sarcasm. There are four of us this time, the all-star team. The team members are: Mike Haft, a past co-worker who is now guiding for IMG on Mt. Rainier. Eric Quiggles, a trip leader for

Mazama Rock

2009-05-24T11:38:00.001-07:00

Tyler returned from Ecuador just a few days before I persuaded him to come to Mazama. The forecast was bright that week and our ambitions were high. It had been a long time since either of us had been rock climbing. Late last summer I spent a few days in Leavenworth sanding calluses and leaving soft rubber on sharp stone. Since then, I had been mountaineering and backpacking endlessly, but the

Marmot Pass

2009-05-18T09:20:00.000-07:00

Another overnighter into the blanketed Olympics, the sun pushing through clouds and reflecting off the mirror snow as we hike. There are three of us this time so we are carrying two tents. Andy Stern, a young friend who has almost no experience in the mountains, had to borrow a backpack, sleeping bag, rain pants, pad from his sister and her boyfriend. Joss and I are taking him to Marmot Pass, a

The Cabin and The Lake

2009-05-08T17:40:00.000-07:00

A week ago I was looking at the same ocean. Grey ripples, long foamy waves, the savory smell of seaweed remind me that the water is 30-degrees colder. The thin layer that crawls up the beach touches my bare feet, makes me shiver. There will be no swimming here. Wading, but no swimming. The sunshine is unlikely for this time of year, May 1st, the birth of a season, the birth of green shoots, the

Homecoming

2009-04-25T09:31:00.000-07:00

I'm speaking Spanish, aciidentally, to a McDonalds employee at 2 am in LAX. McDonalds is the only place open this late. Construction workers in orange hard hats, orange vests with neon yellow stripes, order in front of me. They are remodeling this section of the airport. The booming gong of steel crashing into steel, the smell of cleaning liquids, the rhythmic hum of a floor polisher clutter my

Navy Seals, Politicians, Surf Lessons

2009-04-19T15:21:00.000-07:00

A half-hour bus ride south on dusty roads takes me to the fishing village of Pedernales. I think that I am the only gringo in town, until I meet two hairy chests in the internet cafe. They both wear nothing but boxers and speak in loud rude English as if no one else can understand. They can`t. Paul--ex-Navy Seal, wooden cross dangling from his neck, teeth like a half-opened textbook--tells me how

The Coast

2009-04-17T10:00:00.000-07:00

The smell of fresh fish, salty humidity, an endless horizon signals my arrival. It has been three months since I`ve seen the ocean, the longest stint of my life. There were lakes in the highlands that reminded me of the sea, just puddles lined with cement houses. This is different. I forgot. I forgot how much I love that smell, how the sand feels between my toes, the sunset drags my eyes into the

Blizzards and Bush-Jumping

2009-04-12T13:48:00.000-07:00

Tyler, sitting in the back, furrowed eyebrows staring out the taxi windows at the bruised, weeping sky. I see the look on his face in the rear view mirror, know he is thinking the same thing as me. We´re fucked. Its three o´clock but its so dark that the earth seems black instead of the true rusty brown. Visibility is limited to the bulges of fallen rocks thirty feet in front of the car. The

Between Style and History

2009-04-10T14:00:00.000-07:00

Cobble streets, potholes, uneven sidewalks are hard on wobbly ankles. My sandals shave calusses down to soft pink skin, leave tan-lines behind boney toes as we wander through Cuenca. Cathedral doors are big enough to admit dinasoures, make me feel tiny, the way I feel when I´m standing beside a stallion, a muscular breed. We search the market for gifts. I buy things only for myself. A leather

Four Days of Paradise

2009-04-04T10:09:00.000-07:00

Returning to Ecuador feels like coming home. Bus attendents loudly repeat destinations and ask us where we are going as we stroll through the terminal with our enormous backpacks. Really, it is more mall than terminal. The number of individuals actually catching busses is far smaller than the number of bag totting shoppers. They go from food court to shoe store to sunglass kiosk, rushing their

Choquequirao to Machu Picchu: Final

2009-03-31T12:40:00.000-07:00

This story is a continuation and the culmination of the previous two entries. So I suggest you read those first...Day 7The rain is so warm I don`t even bother with a jacket. The river we are following is flowing full force. I cross the tributaries via logs spanning the white turmoil. Dense clouds tail me and overtake me, depositing sheets of water in the surrounding basin. After a few hours the

Choquequirao to Machu Picchu: Continued

2009-03-30T08:57:00.000-07:00

This entry is a continuation of the story that was posted yesterday...Day 3The corners of the tent are soaked. The last half of my science fiction novel is a fat sponge. The toe of my down sleeping bag drips, but I am warm and dry inside. The zipper on the tent fly pulls apart as I emerge from the damp cave. Mike is already awake, brushing his teeth with his rain jacket on. Pieces of mountains

Choquequirao to Machu Picchu

2009-03-29T13:47:00.000-07:00

Day 1 Mike knocks on my door at 6am. Felix, our guide, knocks on the hostal door at 6:30am. We pile into a taxi, a stationwagon, that takes us five minutes down the narrow cobble to the Plaza San Blas. Our mini-bus is waiting. Peeling green paint beneath half a Toyota symbol. We shove our duffels and daypacks in the back, balancing everything so it won`t fall out when we close the hatch. There