I’m heading to Tucson today to visit Mom and Dad for Christmas with my girlfriend for a Meet the Parents holiday.  After several days of eating, drinking and being lazy, I’m going to the mountains one way or another.  I’ve been trying to find a guide to lead some multi-pitch up around Mount Lemmon, however it is looking like that is going to be tough since, after all it is Christmas, so all the guides I’ve talked to are unavailable.

If I can’t get someone to lead multi-pitch, I think I am going to hit up a hike/climb of Mount Wrightston (9,456 feet) south of the city.  There has been a bit of an early winter there, so I’m bringing crampons and an ice ax in case it gets a little icy at the top. 

Either way, there will be some great outdoors goodness to be had!  I will keep you posted!

Here is a very interesting article in the Outdoors section of the SF Chronicle from Tom Stienstra who, in light of the family that got lost in a white-out looking for a Christmas tree, took off with a buddy in Yosemite to demonstrate what to do if you get stranded during the winter in the harsh mountain environment.  

Skydiving has always been at, or near the top, of extreme adventure sports. In 1797, when Andre-Jacques Garnerin jumped out of a hot air balloon with a parachute, adventure seekers from all over the world have sought ways the feel the invigoration of “flying,” even though all it is, is a controlled crash to earth.

The sport must of hit a wall for some folks who didn’t think that merely strapping some canvass to one’s back was hard core enough. In 1998, Jari Kuosma and Robert Pecnik found a unique and intricate design (the person who originally attempted this feat with a similar design died) called a “wingsuit,” and jumped off a 3,000 cliff. They learned from this experience that, although you couldn’t technically fly, the rate of descent dropped from 120 mph to 35 mph. It was a daring and successful attempt, which officially raised the bar on one of the world’s most dangerous sports. Exhibit A:

The wingsuit has officially elevated skydiving and BASE jumping into the stratosphere, but, if you thought buzzing mountain ridges with a thin layer of synthetic material between your arms and legs would be enough to keep adrenaline junkies happy for a while, you’d have to think again. Review the above clip again: the problem for some people is that, after the aforementioned thrill-ride through the mountains, at the end you have to pull out a parachute to land. Although your rate of vertical descent decreases from 120 mph to 35 mph with the wingsuit, your horizontal speed is 75 - 80 mph. Without the parachute, you’d hit the ground so hard that the the last thought going through your head would be your helmet.

Enter Jeb Corliss.

Jeb is trying to be the first human being to jump out of a plane with a winged suit and land, on the earth, without the aid of a parachute. There are others who are attempting this feat as well, but NOT ONE has been as articulate or even close to being as cool as Jeb Corliss. The NY Times recently did a video story on him where, without hesitation, or so much as a stutter in his voice, he explains exactly why he is attempting to do this insane stunt (since the the NY Times is still in the stone age of the Interwebs, I can’t embed it here, so click the link to see the whole video):

People ask me, ‘What’s the point? Why would you do something like that?’ You know, to be honest with you, for me, the wingsuit landing is something people have never done before. And it’s hard, in this day and age, to do something that has never been done before. This will be the first time, that a human being, has reached terminal velocity, and landed–on their face–at over a hundred and ten miles-an-hour, and gotten back up and did it again. That’s a very special thing and, as far as I’m concerned, this is something people have wanted to do since the time of Icarus.

Count me in as one that will be avidly rooting for Jeb to, “reach terminal velocity and land–on his face–at over a hundred and ten miles-an-hour, and get back up to do it again.”

UPDATE: Comments closed to do flood of SPAM.

Growing up, I had a grounded, yet simple church experience, free from flare. We went to Sunday services where I’d take off to Sunday School to color pictures of baby Jesuses (usually blue) and listen to lessons about how to treat others how I’d want to be treated; the monthly church dinner or, weather permitting, an outdoor picnic that always ended up with some kid getting pounded for grievances no greater than smelling like pee (you know, to demonstrate of what we learned in Sunday School). There was also the annual Christmas Pageant where I’d barrow the old man’s cane from across the street and play a rough-around-the-edges shepherd who took no crap from his sheep, let alone a Pharisee. However, there was one year where they decided to emasculate the boys by making all the five year-olds, regardless of sex, dress as angels. I assure you, it was the only time in my life when there was a halo hovering over my head.

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Originally posted at Ten Fingers 6 Strings. Slightly edits made.

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I sat in the peaceful garden of the Yak and Yeti Hotel, which was one of a handful of oases in an otherwise and utterly chaotic, Kathmandu. I had a good-tired going on; a tiredness that normally comes from a full day of progress, adventure, activity or hard work resulting in something resembling accomplishment. However, in this case, all I had done was show up on time to the airport, hand over my passport, pass through security without being molested, get on the plane when they announced “Now boarding: rows 35-50,” sit in my assigned seat, turn my electronics on-and-off (when appropriate) and repeat these steps for the next two connections in Hong Kong and Bangkok. Although the very nature of this exercise is routine and monotonous, it was, nonetheless, one step in the telos, which was getting up and down from Mount Everest - Advanced Base Camp.

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Oringally posted at Ten Fingers 6 Strings. Slight edits included.

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It was about two or three A.M. and I was violently shivering at Interim Camp in what was supposed to be a 20-below North Face sleeping bag, but instead was a synthetic cover stuffed with feathers.  It seems that the gear shop in Kathmandu rented us the equivalent of the “Rolax” watches you can pick up in Hong Kong on the street.  The “Rolax” might make you late for a meeting, but the feather sleeping bag at 19,000 feet will literally turn you into a popsicle.  I mumbled audible obscenities while trying to find ways to stay warm wearing top and bottom thermals, a down jacket, down pants and two pairs of wool socks.  I looked ridiculous and it was the first time in my life I really felt claustrophobic.

No matter what I tried, I could not keep my feet warm and eventually had to take off the second pair of socks because they were cutting off my circulation.  So, every 1/2 hour or so, I’d have to rub my feet for ten-minutes, stomp up and down and then practice my tap-dancing skills to keep the blood flowing.  My bones were cold and as I was doing my tap dancing, I wrote a song called Eff You Sleeping Bag Man:

Eff you sleeping bag man
Eff you sleeping bag man
Eff you sleeping bag man
Eff you sleeping bag man (repeat)

The sincerity in my heart and the sweet harmonies produced by this song kept my heart, but not my body warm during this tribulation.  But it wasn’t until the sun broke through the night sky that I knew I would be able to keep all my toes (although the milky, white-color they reflected didn’t make me feel all that comfortable either).  A very inauspicious start to the most important day of the entire trip to Mount Everest: the push to Advanced Base Camp (6,400 meters).

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Originally Posted at Ten Fingers 6 Strings

A climbing party must embrace three critical elements to ensure a successful and enjoyable peak-bagging trip in the Sierras: 1) copious amounts of hilarious banter often supported by a barrage of movie quotes, 2) good music–gansta rap (preferrably of the filthiest nature, ala Too Short) and hard rock/metal that just plain rocks and 3) pre- and post-trip food. These three elements were in plentiful supply as we drove from San Francisco out to Bishop and up to trailhead of Piute Pass. You will later see that conventional logic that would require items like ropes, maps and even shelter aren’t always indicative of success or “fun” in what I like to call “New Climbing.”

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For the good of the order: in the next few days, I’ll cross posting a bunch of adventure stories I wrote on Ten Fingers 6 Strings, so if they look a little familiar, it is because they are.   Then, there will be a slew of new Everest/Tibet material to follow.

Happy Thanksgiving!

One of my climbing buddies, Rich, forwarded me a story about a climber who recently died in Yosemite while trying to climb Cathedral Peak:

A rock climber who died in Yosemite National Park over the weekend has been identified as Peter Charles Noble, 44, of Oakland, the Tuolumne County Sheriff’s Department reported Monday. An autopsy is scheduled to take place within the next 48 hours.

Two male rock climbers went up Cathedral Peak on Saturday and told a ranger they planned to return after dark, said Yosemite park ranger Adrienne Freeman. The other climber was not named.

The climbers chose a difficult route, which took them longer than expected. As the men were descending, the weather changed, Freeman said. It was cold and windy and it started to sleet and snow during the early morning hours.

Rich and I had been scoping out a potential climb of Cathedral for a while, and if the weather held out, we were thinking about playing hooky (again) to do it before winter hit. The week prior to the weekend of this accident, we had been watching the weather rather closely and it was absolutely clear that there was going to be some nasty weather there. When I read the initial report, I had a feeling that these guys must have ignored the weather report, since it abundantly clear that there was going to be some nasty stuff up there.

A few days later, the YOSAR (Yosemite Search and Rescue) team published a senopsis of what happened:

On November 10th at approximately 9 AM, Peter Noble, 43, and his climbing partner started the approach hike to Cathedral Peak’s Southeast Buttress. They had not looked at a current weather forecast though they did speak with a Ranger at the trailhead about the potential of a road closure due to the weather moving in overnight. The two said they might be coming back after dark but planned to be out of the backcountry that night.

They had jackets and a sleeping bag in their vehicle and left their backpacks with some gear in them near the base of the climb. Just before dark, the men made it to a point near the summit of Cathedral Peak and decided to rappel their route. On the way down, it got dark and windy. As temperatures dropped, sleet began to fall which later turned to heavy snow. On the rappel, they had gotten a rope stuck and had to cut it to continue the rappel in the dark. On the final rappel both fell approximately 15 feet near the base of the climb but neither was injured. They were wearing light jackets, cotton shirts and pants.

When they reached the ground and started walking out along Budd Creek, they both were falling continuously and were moving very slowly. They realized they were both in danger of freezing but were stumbling and crawling down the Budd Creek drainage. At one point, the climbing partner tried to carry Noble but was not strong enough. Noble repeatedly fell down and finally collapsed. The climbing partner attempted to resuscitate him for an unknown amount of time with no success. The partner realized that he might die if he didn’t continue toward the car, so he left Noble just before dawn on the 11th and made it to the trailhead at 0730 hrs. He was shaking uncontrollably and somewhat incoherent but described the situation to a Ranger.

Yosemite initiated a rescue effort and found Noble’s body just after 10AM 1.65 miles from the Tioga Road in the Budd Creek drainage near the climbers approach trail.

Contributions by Ranger Sally Sprouse

A full investigation and accident report will follow.

Ultimately, I have a primary and secondary goal in climbing. My primary goal: to enjoy my brief time in the mountains, while knowing my limits in order to come back again another day with everyone in the team. My secondary goal is obtaining the summit.

Every year, I read “Accidents in North American Mountaineering.” Although it sounds rather macabre, it is one of the most valuable tools I have for keeping my head straight and myself alive when in the mountains. The mountains are a place of extreme peril and one can only be serve as a passive “guest” for a short period of time there. Human tendency towards hubris, whether ill- or unintended, is amplified and punished indiscriminately. The mountains are completely unforgiving, but that is what also makes being in them so rewarding and beautiful.

In this case, my best wishes and condolences go out to the family of the victim and his climbing partner.  For me, this story serves as another stern reminder that making those last weather checks on the computer, before walking out the door, are necessary. 

I had a bit of an adventure today. It isn’t the the first time it has happened and it won’t be the last. The battery in my main mode of transportation died; leaving me with my trusty Jeep Wrangler. The Jeep is much like Jim Craig’s horse, Dani, in The Man From Snowy River.

I am a little behind in my preparation for winter so the hard top is yet to be attached to the Wrangler. The soft top was detached as well leaving me with an open air vehicle to face the November chill. I throw on a winter had, some gloves and went out to brave the weather. Luckily that chill has not be very fierce in Colorado this year. The mornings have been slightly on the chilly side, but the afternoon have been perfect. I have received some laughs and looks driving on the highway and through town, but nothing out of the ordinary for someone driving a vehicle without a top in early November.