The American Alpine Club Announces 2025 McNeill-Nott Winners

March 2025

The American Alpine Club (AAC) and Mountain Hardwear are excited to announce the 2025 McNeill-Nott recipients. With the untimely death of Sue Nott and her climbing partner Karen McNeill on Sultana (Mt. Foraker) in 2006, the AAC partnered with Mountain Hardwear to establish the McNeill-Nott Award in their memory. This award seeks to preserve the spirit of these two talented and courageous climbers by giving grants to amateur female climbers exploring new routes or unclimbed peaks with small teams.


Heather Smallpage

Heather Smallpage will receive $2,000 to attempt big wall and alpine-style first ascents in a little-climbed region of Baffin Island: Arviqtujuq Kangiqtua (formerly Eglinton Fjord). Natalie Afonina, Shira Biner, Char Tomlinson, and Kaylan Worsnop will all join the expedition, which will be almost entirely human-powered. The expedition team will travel over 250 km by skiing, climbing, packrafting, and walking. The team hopes that this expedition will not only inspire people to see what is possible for female and nonbinary alpinism but also emphasize how increasingly essential and joyous these spaces are in this sport and will tell a story that includes voices that are often quieted or left out of the climbing media.


Allie Oaks (left) and Angela VanWiemeersch (right).

Angela VanWiemeersch will receive $4,000 to attempt to establish a technical line in alpine style on a 5,000-meter peak in the Pamir Alai mountains of Kyrgyzstan. Allie Oaks will join VanWiemeersch on this expedition. Oaks and VanWiemeersch have been growing a long-distance partnership over the last four years and will be doing a training trip in the Canadian Rockies this April. This will be their first big expedition together. 

PC: Robert Taylor


Brooke Maushund will receive $1,000 to attempt to climb and ski unclimbed peaks on the Southern Patagonian Icefield (Hielo Continental) with a primarily female team. Since avalanche forecasting in the U.S. during austral summers, Maushund was driven to extend her winters in the Southern Hemisphere. After spending close to four months skiing in Patagonia last year, starting to learn terrain, snowpacks, and weather patterns, she is excited to continue learning through exploratory skiing in this dynamic, wild environment. 


Applications for the McNeill-Nott Award are accepted each year from October 1 through November 30.


Contact:

Berkeley Anderson, Foundation and Grants Coordinator: [email protected]


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About Mountain Hardwear

Mountain Hardwear, Inc., was founded in 1993 and is based in Richmond, CA. We exist to encourage and equip people to seek a wilder path in life. For 30 years, we’ve built essential equipment for climbers, mountaineers, and outdoor athletes and have supported expeditions on the world’s highest peaks. Relentless precision continues to inspire everything we do — our designers sweat every stitch and detail to continuously improve function, durability, and comfort. Mountain Hardwear is a wholly-owned subsidiary of Columbia Sportswear Company that distributes its products through specialty outdoor retailers in the United States and 34 countries worldwide. www.mountainhardwear.com


CLIMB: Kai Lighter Talks BTS of Death of Villains

Photo Credit: Gareth Leah

In this episode, we sit down with Kai Lightner to chat about his Reel Rock film, Death of Villains. Kai gives us a behind the scenes look at how the film came to be, some of the key themes of the film and how challenging it was to be so vulnerable about subjects like eating disorders and rediscovering how to climb in his growing body, and the big fight, believing that he could meet his childhood dreams of climbing 5.15. We also talk about redpoint strategies, injury, the partners who have shaped him, and what he’s discovered recently about climbing, even after 20 years in the sport!


Prescription—Knee Stuck in Crack

Wild as it may seem, every year we publish at least one report of a climber getting their knee stuck in an offwidth crack. Sound crazy? It happened to Martin Boysen on Trango Tower and more recently Jason Kruk on Boogie Till You Puke. 

Queen Victoria Spire in Sedona, Arizona, was the scene of a stuck knee incident in 2023. Photos by Xander Ashburn | Wikimedia.

The final section of the second pitch of the Regular Route (III, 5.7) on Queen Victoria Spire. This four-inch crack trapped a climber on her first outdoor climb. Photo: Chris Thornley/Climbing Magazine

Knee Stuck in Crack

Sedona, Queen Victoria Spire 

On January 8, Climber 1 (female, 25) got her knee stuck in a wide crack on the Regular Route (3 pitches, 5.7) on Queen Victoria Spire in Sedona. Climber 1 was following four friends on her first outdoor climb when she attempted an “alpine knee” while pulling onto a ledge on the second pitch.

An “alpine knee” is when you place that joint on top of a high hold and use it for progress, instead of a foot. Rather than helping her onto the ledge, Climber 1’s knee slipped into a four-inch-wide crack, where it wedged and became stuck. Others in her party tried pouring water over her knee in an attempt to free it but were unsuccessful. 

At 5:15 p.m., the Coconino County Sheriff’s department was contacted to perform a rescue. By 8 p.m., the SAR team had arrived. It took over an hour to free the climber from the crack, and by then the climber was exhibiting signs of mild hypothermia (they had started climbing at 12:30 p.m.). The climbing party was airlifted off the spire. The stuck climber was not injured and refused treatment.

ANALYSIS

The climbers in this scenario did “everything right,” according to the SAR team. They tried to free their partner, and failing that, they initiated a rescue. Many relatively easy routes have awkward sections or styles of climbing that may seem above the technical grade when first encountered outdoors. Care should be taken when making a move where a slip or fall could result in injury or entrapment. It took about four hours to free this climber, and temperatures at the crag dropped to around 30°F. Consider worst-case scenarios when preparing for a climb, as unexpected events could result in prolonged exposure to the elements.

(Source: Dan Apodaca.) 


Video Analysis

If getting your knee stuck in an offwidth is so common, what do we do if it happens? In the video analysis, ANAC editor Pete Takeda provides some tips on how to prepare for this kind of worst-case scenario when rock climbing.

Credits: Pete Takeda, Editor of Accidents in North American Climbing, and Hannah Provost, Content Director; Producer: Shane Johnson and Sierra McGivney @Sierra_McGivney; Videographer: Foster Denney @fosterdoodle_; Editor: Sierra McGivney @Sierra_McGivney; Location: Cob Rock, Boulder Canyon, CO


Similar Accidents—Accidents in North American Climbing


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The American Alpine Club Announces 2025 Cutting Edge Grant Winners

PC: Nelson Neirinck

March 2025

The American Alpine Club and Black Diamond Equipment are pleased to announce the 2025 Cutting Edge Grant recipients. The Cutting Edge Grant continues the Club's 120-year tradition by funding individuals planning expeditions to remote areas featuring unexplored mountain ranges, unclimbed peaks, difficult new routes, first-free ascents, or similar world-class pursuits. Five teams have been awarded a total of $25,000 for this cycle, with objectives featuring a low-impact style and leave-no-trace mentality looked upon with favor. Black Diamond Equipment is a proud sponsor of the Cutting Edge Grant and a key partner in supporting cutting-edge alpinism.


Kishtwar Shivling. 2023. PC: Vitaliy Musiyenko

Vitaliy Musiyenko will be awarded $6,000 to attempt a new route on the southwest aspect of Kishtwar Shivling (6,000m), located in the Indian Himalayas. The mountain's main summit has only been reached once; the east summit was climbed in 2014, and the east pillar was climbed in 2015. Vitaliy Musiyenko will be attempting the route with Sean McLane. If they have enough time and energy in the tank, they hope to attempt another, unclimbed mountain with a similar altitude in the area.


Michael Hutchins

Michael Hutchins will be awarded $6,000 to attempt the southwest face of Rimo lll (7233m), an unclimbed 1600m face in the eastern Karakoram of India. Hutchins and Chris Wright discovered this objective because Wright caught a glimpse of the Rimo peaks after an expedition in 2012. Stefano Ragazzo will join them on their expedition. The team of three are all mountain guides with extensive climbing experience: Ragazzo recently rope-soloed Eternal Flame on Nameless Tower in Pakistan; Wright received the Piolet d'Or in 2020 for his team's ascent of Link Sar; and Hutchins has climbed six of seven major peaks in the Fitz Roy massif.


Tad McCrea. PC: Tad McCrea

Tad McCrea will be awarded $4,000 to attempt the southeast pillar of Latok lll (6,949 meters) from the Choktoi Glacier. Latok III has never been climbed from the Choktoi glacier but was summited from the west face in 2011. The expedition team will include Jon Giffin and Thomas Huber. The three climbers attempted the proposed route in 2024 but had to descend before bad weather moved in.


Zach Lovell. PC: Carrie Mueller

Zach Lovell will be awarded $4,000 to attempt a new route on Dorje Lhakpa (6966m), located in the Jugal Himal, about 55 kilometers northeast of Kathmandu. Japhy Dhungana and Joseph Hobby will join Lovell on this expedition, which will involve over 1,000 meters of technical climbing from 5900 to 6900 meters. Dhungana and Lovell did their first new route in the alpine together in Nepal several years ago and are looking forward to another adventure in Dhungana's home country. Hobby and Lovell have also spent countless days climbing and skiing together, from the contiguous U.S. to Alaska. Lovell is honored to call both of them some of his closest friends and looks forward to spending time together as a team of three.


Ethan Berman negotiating a short mixed step low down on Ultar Sar in 2024. PC: Maarten van Haeren

Ethan Berman will be awarded $5,000 to attempt the southeast "hidden" pillar of Ultar Sar (7388 m), located in the Karakoram Range of Pakistan. The route is a striking 3000m line, with the lower half of the route consisting of 1500m of steep snow and ice climbing with a couple of mixed steps, and the upper half consisting of a 1500m stunning rock pillar that cuts a line through the sky all the way to the summit. Maarten van Haeren, Sebastian Pelletti, and Berman attempted the route in the spring of 2024, reaching a hanging glacier at 6000m before turning around due to dangerous snow conditions. They made three attempts total, each time climbing a bit higher while learning how to move safely through the complexities of the route. They are fired up to return to Pakistan with the support of the Cutting Edge Grant and hope to apply all that they learned last year to increase their chances of success.


Applications for the Cutting Edge Grant are accepted each year from October 1 through November 30.

Contact:

Berkeley Anderson, Foundation and Grants Coordinator: [email protected]


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CONNECT: Remembering Charlie Through an Epic on Mt. Whitney

In this episode, we’re sitting down with AAC member David Corvi to talk about his Live Your Dream grant experience—a beautiful day that turned into a 24 hour epic on Mt. Whitney in September of 2024. Getting off route, climbing through pockets of ice and show, and getting lost on the descent were only some of what the team experienced that day.

Because there is another layer of complexity to this story, a mental load that added a unique weight to that experience. David’s trip to Whitney was also in memory of his stillborn son, Charlie. In the episode, David shares about his family’s experience with infant and child loss, how climbing and other forms of outdoor adventures have helped him process his grief and continue to parent Charlie even though he is gone, and likewise he reflects on how physical challenges, like half marathons and the Whitney trip, are a way to honor the life Charlie won’t ever get to experience. Dive into this episode to hear about your classic alpine day gone wrong, and just one way that grief and loss can be processed in the mountains.

David and his wife with Charlie.

David and his Whitney expedition partners Dan and Brian.


The Line: News From the Cascades to the Karakoram

Binocular view of the crux fourth pitch of Borrowed Time on the west face of Sloan Peak. Photo: Michael Telstad.

SLOAN PEAK, BORROWED TIME

The west face of Sloan Peak, about 20 kilometers southwest of Glacier Peak in Washington’s North Cascades, has seen a flurry of winter climbing in the past five years. But one obvious plum remained: a direct route up the center of the face, with an intimidating crux pitch leading past steep rock to a hanging dagger. In January, Northwest climbers Justin Sackett and Michael Telstad picked that plum, climbing nearly 2,000 feet up the west face in a long day. We’re sharing Telstad’s report for AAJ 2025 here.

The west face of Sloan Peak (7,835’) has been at the forefront of my mind for about as long as I’ve been winter climbing. Despite numerous attempts, the main face was unclimbed to the summit in winter until 2022, with the completion of Superalpine (IV WI3/4, Legallo-Roy). In 2023, the Merrill-Minton (a.k.a. The Sloan Slither, 1,600’, IV WI4+) climbed partway up the center of the face, then moved rightward to join Superalpine. A previous winter line on Sloan Peak, Full Moon Fever (IV AI4 R 5.8, Downey-Hinkley-Hogan, 2011), started on the west face then angled up the northern shoulder.

Directly above the point where the Merrill-Minton cuts right to easier ground, a large hanging dagger is guarded by gently overhanging, compact gneiss. Known as one of the biggest unpicked plums in the North Cascades, the direct line past the dagger was going to get climbed sooner or later—it was just a question of by whom and in what style. When a perfect weather window arrived in the forecast, I convinced Justin Sackett to drive up from Portland for an attempt.

The west face of Sloan Peak showing the line of Borrowed Time, climbed in January 2025. The climbers followed the Merrill-Minton Route (2023) up to the middle of the big rock band, then continued straight up where the Merrill-Minton veered right. Photo: John Scurlock.

Early on January 19, 2025, we stepped away from the car and into the rainforest. We reached the base of the route at first light. Following the Merrill-Minton for the first three pitches, we encountered climbing up to WI5 R—a far cry from the moderate ice reported on the first ascent. Below the dagger, we took a short break and got ready for an adventure. I’d chosen to leave the bolt kit behind. This route deserved an honest attempt on natural gear before being sieged.

No bolts on this mixed pitch: Michael Telstad zigzags up overhanging gneiss on the fourth pitch of Borrowed Time, the M7 crux of the route. Photo: Justin Sackett.

After traversing back and forth a few times, I chose my line to the ice and started up. The rock on this portion of the wall is highly featured but compact and fractured. Just about every seam that might take gear was packed full of frozen moss; finding decent protection was a slow, agonizing process. A steep crux near the end of the pitch held potential for a huge fall, but an improbable no-hands rest allowed me just enough of a reprieve to get good gear.

On the summit. Photo: Justin Sackett.

Justin joined me in the sun above the dagger, and we continued up a pitch of perfect blue water ice to snow slopes. Rather than finish via the standard scramble route, we opted for an obvious corner system above us. Reminiscent of Shaken Not Stirred on the Mooses Tooth in Alaska, this narrow slot held steps of water ice broken by sections of steep snow—the ideal finish to an excellent climb.

Arriving on the windless summit around 3:45 p.m., we took a short break and began our descent along the southeast shelf. After what felt like an eternity of steep downclimbing, we post-holed back to the cars, arriving a bit after 8 pm. Our direct new route is called Borrowed Time (1,900’, IV WI5 M7). 


RESCUE ON SLOAN PEAK

In a sad footnote to the Sloan Peak story, a climber was severely injured in a long fall on the mountain about a week after the ascent reported above, apparently attempting one of the initial pitches on either this line or the Merrill-Minton route. The climber was pulled from the face in a dramatic helicopter mission—the five-minute video from Snohomish County Sheriff’s Office is a remarkable window into such rescues. We wish the climber well in his recovery.


The third bivouac on the north pillar of Yashkuk Sar I. Photo courtesy of Dane Steadman.

YASHKUK SAR FIRST ASCENT

Crashhhhh! rang through the perfectly still night. To say this woke up August Franzen, Cody Winckler, and me would be a lie. How could we sleep? We were camped below the biggest objective of our lives, on our first trip to Pakistan, alone in the Yashkuk Yaz Valley aside from our two cooks and liaison officer back at base camp, surrounded by the most beautiful, terrifying, inspiring, and chaotic mountains we’d ever seen. Now, on the glacier beneath Yashkuk Sar I (6,667m), about a mile past our advanced base camp, I poked my head out the tent door to see a gargantuan avalanche roaring down the peak’s north wall, its powder cloud billowing toward us.

“Should we run?” asked August.

That’s the start of the article Dane Steadman has written for AAJ 2025. The new AAJ will be mailed to AAC members in September, but you can hear Dane talk about this climb right now in the latest Cutting Edge podcast. Along with Dane’s interview, you’ll hear alpinists Kelly Cordes and Graham Zimmerman, plus AAJ editor Dougald MacDonald, sharing their insights on this climb and the unique challenges and attractions of climbing in the Karakoram.

The 2024 Yashkuk Sar I expedition was supported by a Cutting Edge grant from the American Alpine Club.


The Line is the newsletter of the American Alpine Journal (AAJ), emailed to more than 80,000 climbers each month. Find the archive of past editions here. Interested in supporting this publication? Contact Heidi McDowell for opportunities. Got a potential story for the AAJ? Email us: [email protected].

Life: An Objective Hazard

Zach Clanton’s Climbing Grief Fund Story

by Hannah Provost

Photos by AAC member Zach Clanton

Originally published in Guidebook XIII

I.

Zach Clanton was the photographer, so he was the last one to drop into the couloir. Sitting on the cornice as he strapped his board on, his camera tucked away now, his partners far below him and safe out of the avalanche track, he took a moment and looked at the skyline. He soaked in the jagged peaks, the snow and rock, the blue of the sky. And he said hello to his dead friends.

In the thin mountain air, as he was about to revel in the breathlessness of fast turns and the thrill of skating on a knife’s edge of danger, they were close by—the ones he’d lost to avalanches. Dave and Alecs. Liz and Brook. The people he had turned to for girlfriend advice, for sharing climbing and splitboarding joy. The people who had witnessed his successes and failures. Too many to name. Lost to the great allure, yet ever-present danger, of the big mountains.

Zach had always been the more conservative one in his friend group and among his big mountain splitboard partners. Still, year after year, he played the tricky game of pushing his snowboarding to epic places.

Zach is part of a disappearing breed of true dirtbags. Since 2012, he has lived inside for a total of ten months, otherwise based out of his Honda Element and later a truck camper, migrating from Alaska to Mexico as the seasons dictated. When he turned 30, something snapped. Maybe he lost his patience with the weather-waiting in Alaska. Maybe he just got burnt out on snowboarding after spending his entire life dedicated to the craft. Maybe he was fried from the danger of navigating avalanche terrain so often. Regardless, he decided to take a step back from splitboarding and fully dedicate his time to climbing, something that felt more controllable, less volatile. With rock climbing, he believed he would be able to get overhead snow and ice hazards out of his life. He was done playing that game.

Even as Zach disentangled his life and career from risky descents, avalanches still haunted him. Things hit a boiling point in 2021, when Zach lost four friends in one season, two of whom were like brothers. As can be the case with severe trauma, the stress of his grief showed up in his body—manifesting as alopecia barbae. He knew grief counseling could help, but it all felt too removed from his life. Who would understand his dirtbag lifestyle? Who would understand how he was compelled to live out of his car, and disappear into the wilderness whenever possible?

He grappled with his grief for years, unsure how to move forward. When, by chance, he listened to the Enormocast episode featuring Lincoln Stoller, a grief therapist who’s part of the AAC’s Climbing Grief Fund network and an adventurer in his own right—someone who had climbed with Fred Beckey and Galen Rowell, some of Zach’s climbing idols—a door seemed to crack open, a door leading toward resiliency, and letting go. He applied to the Climbing Grief Grant, and in 2024 he was able to start seeing Lincoln for grief counseling. He would start to see all of his close calls, memories, and losses in a new light.

Photo by AAC member Zach Clanton


II.

With his big mountain snowboarding days behind him, Zach turned to developing new routes for creativity and the indescribable pleasure of moving across rock that no one had climbed before. With a blank canvas, he felt like he was significantly mitigating and controlling any danger. There was limited objective hazard on the 1,500-foot limestone wall of La Gloria, a gorgeous pillar west of El Salto, Mexico, where he had created a multi-pitch classic called Rezando with his friend Dave in early 2020. Dave and Zach had become brothers in the process of creating Rezando, having both been snowboarders who were taking the winter off to rock climb. On La Gloria, it felt like the biggest trouble you could get into was fighting off the coatimundi, the dexterous ringtail racoon-like creatures that would steal their gear and snacks.

After free climbing all but two pitches of Rezando in February of 2020, when high winds and frigid temperatures drove them off the mountain, Zach was obsessed with the idea of going back and doing the first free ascent. He had more to give, and he wasn’t going to loosen his vise grip on that mountain. Besides, there was much more potential for future lines.

Dave Henkel on the bivy ledge atop pitch eight during the first ascent of Rezando. PC: Zach Clanton

But Dave decided to stay in Whistler that next winter, and died in an avalanche as Zach was in the process of bolting what would become the route Guerreras. After hearing the news, Zach alternated between being paralyzed by grief and manically bolting the route alone.

In a world where his friends seemed to be dropping like flies around him, at least he could control this.

Until the fire.

It was the end of the season, and his friend Tony had come to La Gloria to give seven-hour belays while Zach finished bolting the pitches of Guerreras ground-up. Just as they touched down after three bivvies and a successful summit, Tony spotted a wildfire roaring in their direction. Zach, his mind untrained on how fast forest fires can move, was inclined to shrug it off as less of an emergency than it really was. Wildfire wasn’t on the list of dangers he’d considered. But the fire was moving fast, ripping toward them, and it was the look on Tony’s face that convinced Zach to run for it.

In retrospect, Zach would likely not have made it off that mountain if it weren’t for Tony. He estimates they had 20 minutes to spare, and would have died of smoke inhalation if they had stayed any longer. When they returned the next winter, thousands of dollars of abandoned gear had disintegrated. The fire had singed Zach’s hopes of redemption—of honoring Dave with this route and busying his mind with a first ascent—to ash. It would only be years later, and through a lot of internal work, that Zach would learn that his vise grip on La Gloria was holding him back. He would open up the first ascent opportunity to others, and start to think of it as a gift only he could give, rather than a loss.

But in the moment, in 2021, this disaster was a crushing defeat among many. With the wildfire, the randomness of death and life started to settle in for Zach. There was only so much he could control. Life itself felt like an objective hazard.


III.

In January 2022, amid getting the burnt trash off the mountain and continuing his free attempts on Guerreras, Zach took a job as part of the film crew for the National Geographic show First Alaskans—a distraction from the depths of his grief. Already obsessed with all things Alaskan, he found that there was something unique and special about documenting Indigenous people in Alaska as they passed on traditional knowledge to the next generation. But on a shoot in Allakaket, a village in the southern Brooks Range, his plan for distraction disintegrated.

In the Athabascan tradition, trapping your first wolverine as a teenager is a rite of passage. Zach and the camera crew followed an Indigenous man and his two sons who had trapped a wolverine and were preparing to kill and process the animal. In all of his time spent splitboarding and climbing in these massive glaciated mountains that he loved so much, Zach had seen his fair share of wolverines— often the only wildlife to be found in these barren, icy landscapes. As he peered through the camera lens, he was reminded of the time he had wound through the Ruth Gorge, following wolverine tracks to avoid crevasses, or that time on a mountain pass, suddenly being charged by a wolverine galloping toward him. His own special relationship with these awkward, big-pawed creatures flooded into his mind. What am I doing here, documenting this? Was it even right to allow such beautiful, free creatures to be hunted in this way? he wondered.

The wolverine was stuck in a trap, clinging to a little tree. Every branch that the wolverine could reach she had gnawed away, and there were bite marks on the limbs of the wolverine where she’d attempted to chew her own arm off. Now, that chaos and desperation were in the past. The wolverine was just sitting, calm as can be, looking into the eyes of the humans around her. It felt like the wolverine was peering into Zach’s soul. He could sense that the wolverine knew she would die soon, that she had come to accept it. It was something about the hollowness of her stare.

He couldn’t help but think that the wolverine was just like all his friends who had died in the mountains, that there had to have been a moment when they realized they were going to be dead—a moment of pure loneliness in which they stared death in the face. It was the loneliest and most devastating way to go, and as the wolverine clung to the tree with its battered, huge, human-like paws, he saw the faces of his friends.

When would be the unmarked day on the calendar for me? He was overwhelmed by the question. What came next was a turning point.

With reverence and ceremony, the father led his sons through skinning the wolverine, and then the process of giving the wolverine back to the wild. They built a pyre, cutting the joints of the animal, and burning it, letting the smoke take the animal’s spirit back to where it came from, where the wolverine would tell the other animals that she had been treated right in her death. This would lead to a moose showing itself next week, the father told his sons, and other future food and resources for the tribe.

As Zach watched the smoke meander into the sky through the camera lens, the cycle of loss and life started to feel like it made a little more sense.


IV.

After a few sessions with Lincoln Stoller in the summer of 2024, funded by the Climbing Grief Fund Grant, Zach Clanton wasn’t just invested in processing and healing his grief—he was invested in the idea of building his own resiliency, of letting go in order to move forward.

On his next big expedition, he found that he had an extra tool in his toolbox that made all the difference.

They had found their objective by combing through information about old Fred Beckey ascents. A bush plane reconnaissance mission into the least mapped areas of southeast Alaska confirmed that this peak, near what they would call Rodeo Glacier, had epic potential. Over the years, with changing temperatures and conditions, what was once gnarly icefalls had turned into a clean granite face taller than El Cap, with a pyramid peak the size of La Gloria on top. A couple of years back, they had received an AAC Cutting Edge Grant to pursue this objective, but a last-minute injury had foiled their plans. This unnamed peak continued to lurk in the back of Zach’s mind, and he was finally ready to put some work in.

As Zach and James started off up this ocean of granite, everything was moving 100 miles per hour. Sleep deprived and totally strung out, they dashed through pitch after pitch, but soon, higher on the mountain, Zach started feeling a crushing weight in his chest, a welling of rage that was taking over his body and making it impossible to climb. He was following James to the next belay, and scaring the shit out of himself, unable to calm his body enough to pull over a lip. This was well within his abilities. What was happening? How come he couldn’t trust his body when he needed it most?

At the belay, Zach broke down. He was suddenly feeling terrified and helpless in this ocean of granite, with the unknown hovering above him. They had stood on the shore, determined to go as far into the unknown sea of rock as they could, while still coming back. When would be the breaking point? Could they trust themselves not to go too far?

Hesitantly at first, Zach spoke his thoughts, but he quickly found that James, who had similar experiences of losing friends in the mountains, understood what he was going through. As they talked through their exhaustion and fear and uncertainty, they recognized in each other the humbling experience of being uprooted by grief, and also the ability to process and keep going. They made the decision to keep climbing until sunset, swapping leads as needed. Zach was inspired, knowing how shattered he had felt, and yet still able to reach deep within to push through. With the resiliency tools he had worked on with Lincoln, this experience didn’t feel so debilitating.

Yet resilience also requires knowing when to say no, when something is too much. After a long, uncomfortable bivy halfway up a 5,000-foot rock climb, the two decided to start the long day of rappels, wary of a closing weather window.

Zach Clanton and his dog, Gustaf Peyote Clanton, at Widebird. “He [Gustaf] is a distinguished gentleman.” Photo by Holly Buehler

Back safely on the glacier, the two climbing partners realized it was their friend Reese’s death day. Taking a whiskey shot, and pouring one out for Reese, they parted ways—James to his tent for a nap, and Zach to roam the glacier.

The experience of oneness he found, roaming that desolate landscape, he compares to a powerful psychedelic experience. It was a snowball of grief, trauma, resilience, meditation, the connection he felt with the friends still here and those gone. It was like standing atop the mountain before he dropped into the spine, and the veil between this world and those who were gone was a little less opaque. He felt a little piece of himself—one that wanted a sense of certainty—loosen a little. The only way he was going to move forward was to let go.

He wasn’t fixed. Death wouldn’t disappear. Those friends were gone, and the rift they left behind would still be there. But he was ready to charge into the mountains again, and find the best they had to offer.



Support This Work—Climbing Grief Fund

The Climbing Grief Fund (CGF) connects individuals to effective mental health professionals and resources and evolves the conversation around grief and trauma in the climbing, alpinism, and ski mountaineering community. CGF acts as a resource hub to equip the mental health of our climbing community.


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EDUCATE: Climbing Gear Innovations, Then and Now

This episode is for the gear nerds out there. The climbing world loves to reminisce on some of climbing’s great inventions of the past, but what’s happening in gear innovation right now? We put together some brief interviews with innovators past and present, to dive into tinkering in the climbing world, then and now.


We’ll start with an excerpt from Yvon Chouinard’s "Legacy Series" interview to hear him reflect on revolutionizing the ice axe. Next, we’ll take a massive leap forward into present-day sport climbing tactics, and chat with Will McNeill, of HangDog Climbing, whose ultralight clip-up device is becoming all the rage in the world of sport projecting. Next, we’ll chat with Brent Barghahn, of Avant Climbing Innovations, about squeaking out the last bit of efficiency for rope soloing systems and hard trad climbing. Then, we’ll take a step back in time again, and chat with Jack Tackle about the late John Middendorf’s legacy in innovating the A5 portaledge, to set us up for our last conversation, a discussion with Nathan Kukathas of Grade 7 Equipment. Nathan is known for inventing the G7 Pod, which many say has been one of the biggest innovations for alpine climbing in years.


Through it all, we’ll talk about inspiration, what it takes to innovate in the climbing gear space, what could be next for climbing gear, and lots and lots about textiles, 3-D printing, and climbing harder.


Episode Resources:

The Prescription—Top-Rope Solo

Angel Wings in Sequoia National Park. Valkyrie (V 5.11+) climbs the sunlit buttress to the right of the highest summit in this image. Photo: Brandon Thau

In this month’s Prescription, an expert climber made two crucial errors in her rope ascension/top-rope solo system. She fortunately escaped with relatively minor injuries.

This accident was featured in the 2024 Accidents in North American Climbing.

Top-Rope Solo Fall | Device Jammed By Sling

Sequoia National Park, Angel Wings

Valkyrie takes the spectacular red line shown above. Clark’s accident occurred on the slab at the bottom of the climb. Photo: Brandon Thau

On October 8, 2023 Whitney Clark was ascending a fixed rope at the start of Valkyrie (17 pitches, 5.11+) when her single ascension device was jammed by a sling. She fell 30 feet to the ground.

Clark wrote to ANAC:

“We woke at around 6 a.m. and made our way to the fixed line from the day before. The days were short and we had many pitches to do. My partner, Luka Krajnc, went first, using a Grigri to jug and then transitioning to climbing. About 40 feet up, he clove-hitched the rope to a bolt. I then started jugging with a single Micro Traxion. Thirty feet up, I leaned back on the rope. My body weight wasn’t supported because the sling around my neck [part of the top-rope solo setup] got sucked into the device and caught in the teeth of the Traxion. The rope was sliding against the sling. I hadn’t tied a backup knot.”

Clark attempted to wrap the rope around her leg. But her rope was new, thin, and slippery. She wrote, “I grabbed the rope and slowly started sliding down. Eventually the rope burn was too painful and I let go. I hit the ground, landed on my feet, and fell backward. I struck my lower back and then my head. I was wearing a helmet. Because the ground was angled, some of the force was dissipated, though I landed six inches from a large rock spike.

“I never lost consciousness but was in a bit of shock. Luka rappelled down and did a spinal exam. He got me comfortable, and I sat there for a while. I had pain in my back and my left ankle. I used my inReach to call for a rescue while Luka retrieved our stuff. I started crawling and butt-scooting to where a heli could reach me. I would have loved to have self-rescued, but it’s a 16-mile hike out. It took about 2.5 hours of crawling to make it to a flat place. Four hours later, a helicopter airlifted me to the Visalia Level III trauma center.”

 Whitney Clark’s progress-capture device failed when the as-yet-unused retention sling got stuck in the device as she was ascending. It is common practice to use a sling and an elastic connection to hold the progress-capture device upright as one climbs along a fixed rope. Photo: Luka Krajnc


The Prescription—Video Analysis

Top-rope soloing is becoming increasingly popular. In this video, Pete Takeda, Editor of Accidents in North American Climbing, and IFMGA/AMGA guide Jason Antin are back to provide an accident analysis and give you some quick tips on how to mitigate risk when top-rope soloing.

Top-rope soloing is an integral part of modern climbing. Currently, only one device (the El Mudo) is designed and commercially available for top-rope (and lead) soloing. There are many ways to configure these systems and we’ve demonstrated one possible solution here.


ANALYSIS

Solo top-roping allows a climber to self-belay when no partner is available, for a team to work on individual sections of a route without the need for a belayer, or for two climbers to move simultaneously, as in this situation. The errors Clark made were using only one device to safeguard her progress and not tying a backup knot.

“I was jugging by pulling on the rope, syncing up the slack, and sitting back,” Clark said. “The route was meandering and the fixed line didn’t allow me to readily climb, so I decided to jug straight up the initial blank slab. The sling around my neck was going to hold the Traxion upright [allowing the rope to feed freely] once I started climbing. I haven’t done any top-rope soloing since the accident. I probably will at some point, but I will definitely use two devices. This was the first time I only used a single progress-capture device.”  (Source: Whitney Clark.)


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Keenan Griscom is Doing Everything Your Parents Tell You Not To Do

Keenan Griscom giving it his all during the 2023/2024 competition season. Photo courtesy of the UIAA

Every year, ice climbers flock to the Ouray Ice Festival to test their skills on the human made ice flows in the park. A select few test their skills on the ice climbing competition wall. Routes are created that include ice, rock, and plywood in the Scottish Gullies section of the ice park. 

The American Alpine Club sat down with USA ice climbing competitor Keenan Griscom. Griscom was rocking a North Face leopard-print 1996 retro Nuptse puffer and Y2K gray wrap-around sunglasses, as chill as the ice around us. We chatted about growing up competing in ice climbing competitions, his new link up Tommy's X (5.14b) in Clear Creek Canyon's Nomad’s Cave, and his experimental competition headspace. The experiment succeeded clearly, since Griscom took home the gold in the Ouray men's lead finals the next day. 

AAC: You were the youngest American to win the Ouray Elite Mixed Climbing Competition at age 16. When did you start climbing? How did you get into competitive ice climbing?

Keenan Griscom: My dad actually started me ice climbing when I was four or five here in Ouray. So I've had tools for a long time. And then through Marcus Garcia, [I] found the competition scene and got hooked. I was doing rock comps, and the community in the ice climbing comps was just, so, so good and supportive and friendly, so, as someone who's already into competing, starting the ice comps is just like, oh, this is it. This is a cool spot to be in.

AAC: What was it like competing at such a young age?

KG: I don't know, I've been competing since I was nine. It was somewhat second nature. I've always wanted to give it [my] all in the comps. And Ouray was really special because when I started, there weren't any age categories. It was just the open format, and anyone could sign up. So if you were in, you're competing with everyone. My first two seasons, I didn't place particularly well. But it was so cool to be competing with people like Will Gadd and Ryan Vachon and all these epic mixed-climbers and alpinists who I looked up to. 

AAC: What drew you to continue doing competition ice climbing while you fell away from competition bouldering and rock climbing? 

KG: I stopped competing in rock comps mainly because the scene isn't as welcoming. There's a lot more toxic competitive nature there, and a lot of people get really worked up and will take other people down to get a better result. There's not really any of that in the ice climbing crew. Ice climbing comps are really fun. I'm going to stick with that. But I've been rock climbing outside nonstop. 

AAC: On that note, I noticed you put up an alternative finish to Tommy's Hard Route (5.13d)—Tommy's X (5.14b). What is the relationship between route development and ice climbing? How do those two things relate, if at all for you?

KG: They don't relate a ton since I haven't really done much development for ice or mixed. I've gotten a lot of help from mentors like Marcus, who I met through ice climbing, to teach me development ethics. That route, specifically, it's in a cave near my house, and there's a lot of link ups. I didn't put in any new bolts [for Tommy's X] it was just a new line that hadn't been done yet.

AAC: And what inspired you to do that?

KG: Tommy's Hard Route (5.13d) is an old school natural line in a cave that's almost all manufactured. There is this really, really big dead point crux that I always thought was super, super interesting. Then it's over. You do this really gnarly dead point, and it's jugs to the chains. Which is nice, but more sustained climbing is more my style. There's this other route called Predator X (5.13a/b) that comes in from the left and finishes basically directly above that dead point. And one day, I was wondering if I could link those up, and then it'd be like a perfectly straight line of bolts through the wall. Yeah, it ended up being a really interesting crux sequence after the initial crux. 

AAC: That's awesome. You also boulder, can you tell me a little bit more about that?

KG: Yeah, I grew up almost exclusively sport climbing, and then started to do a little bit of bouldering through friends and kind of got hooked on it, because it’s a little bit easier. You can go out and solo sesh a lot of stuff in Clear Creek Canyon near the crib. I took that and ran with it. I've been doing more bouldering than sport lately, and that's currently what I'm probably most excited about, pushing bouldering grades.

AAC: Do you have a preference between sport climbing, bouldering, ice climbing, ice climbing competition, and mixed climbing?

Keenan Griscom is all about staying chill, captured during the 2023/2024 competition season.

KG: Really hard to say. I might put bouldering at the top, but then it's a massive tie for second. Ice climbing comps are unbeatable. There's no other scene that's as fun and welcoming, and the movement is so dynamic. You just don't get the same movement on rock. It's a really fun change of pace. With actual ice and mixed I'd really like to get into doing some more big things and exploratory multi-pitch in [Rocky Mountain National Park]. But I've definitely been more focused on competition and rock climbing lately.

AAC: What does training look like for you?

KG: It depends. This year has been more casual—been working on a lot of power, strength, and technique. Last season was a pretty full-on training block. I basically trained from August through December, like super structured for the World Cup tour, and it ended up panning out really well.

AAC: It definitely did, you received the overall World Cup lead medal in silver, last year. What about competition ice climbing sparks inspiration or joy for you?

KG: Initially, it's like basically everything your parents tell you not to do. You get to jump around with blades on your feet and in your hands and take massive falls in the air. Honestly, on the World Cup scene, it's all a massive party. Everyone's a big family. I find the movement really fun. It's really physical. So you get to actively try hard while you're doing it, which is a good feeling. Honestly, it's the community, like the scene is so fun. That's a large part of why I'm here.

AAC: Who do you think you are as an ice climbing competitor? 

KG: I'd like to say Keenan is just a climber who wants to do it all. In ice climbing comps, I'd like to be seen as someone who's really focused on doing as well as they can. But I've done some coaching in Boulder at the Ice Coop, and for me to, like, not feel the stress of the competition, I tend to try and help everyone; making sure everyone else is doing good helps me a lot with not worrying about how it's gonna go. So I guess I would like to be seen as someone who's a wealth of knowledge to come and get help from. But at the same time, I'll put my headphones in and lock in for the warm-ups.

AAC: Who are you outside of climbing?

KG: Outside of climbing, I'm trying to be an artist. I'm wrapping up my Arts Associate right now. I'm a little unsure of what I'm doing afterwards, but I'll figure it out.

AAC: What mediums do you work in?

KG: Fashion and then dry mediums, so, charcoal and graphite.

AAC: What do you hope to get out of this 2025 season?

KG: I'm really excited to go into it with a casual mental space. I'm trying to just put it all on the line during the competitions. I haven't done as much training and prep for this season. I'm trying to play around with different approaches to the competition headspace. Instead of treating it as a competition, I want to treat it as redpointing a project. The goal is not to get a certain placement, or even do well in the comp. The goal is to top the routes. At a world cup level that almost always means winning. It's not like I want to win to top the route, I just want to top. Topping is the main objective. 

AAC: What has been the most pivotal moment in your climbing career?

KG: In competition climbing, it was definitely my last season as a U16. I won that year's Youth World Cup. The whole prep I was focused on winning, and when I won, it wasn’t very fulfilling. I felt pretty hollow. That drastically changed how I approached my whole preparation and training. I think that was a massively positive moment. 

[For] rock climbing it's really hard to say. I think potentially [when I stopped] competition rock climbing, because I grew up doing camping trips to Indian Creek and Vedauwoo and following leads all the time. And taking a step away from the competition rock was really nice and refreshing to go back to the routes and try really hard on rock without any external things happening. 

AAC: If you could be any climb, what would it be and why?

KG: I have two lines in mind. Biographie (9a+/515+) in Céüse, France, because it is the most beautifully perfect chunk of rock I have ever seen. It just looks so incredible—proper dream line. Or Off the Wagon (V14), that V14 in Switzerland. The beta on that thing is the definition of swagger. It's so cool.

AAC: Could you elaborate on that, and leave us with some climbing beta humming around in our heads?

KG: Yeah, the history of that boulder is pretty sweet. Dave Graham and Chris Sharma tried it forever ago, and it's this massive right hand dead point for this first move and then you do a campus row sequence. And that's it. It's a two move V14. It's smash, hold, campus, done. It's in this beautiful little meadow valley in Switzerland, and you start on a wagon. It's a really cool chunk of rock. It's like a perfectly flat 45 degree panel.

Just one podium among many. Keenan Griscom celebrating his bronze medal in the 2024 Champagny Continental Open. Photo courtesy of the UIAA


For the Ouray Competition men's results, click here, and for the women's results, click here. The Ice Climbing competition scene returns to Colorado for the World Cup in Longmont on Feb. 22-23. Watch Team USA compete this February, or learn more about getting involved here


Want more ice climbing content? Check out A Little Extra Spice: Stories from the World of Competition Ice Climbing

The Line: Exploring Zanskar

“In recent years, the peaks of Zanskar have seen increasing popularity with mountaineering expeditions. Despite this, there are still plenty of unclimbed summits from 5,500m to 6,500m….”

That’s the start of a report for AAJ 2025 from Matic “Matija” Jošt from Slovenia, who has completed four exploratory expeditions to Zanskar, in the southwest of Ladakh, India, in the last decade. Jošt’s detailed, photo-rich trip reports have prompted a lot of recent activity (including three additional reports in the upcoming AAJ). Below, we offer highlights from Jošt’s latest exploration, plus a brief Q&A with the man himself.

The view from around 5,200 meters above the Chhogo Tokpo. At left is the south summit of T16, climbed in 2016 by Cosmin Andron and Cristina Pogacean from Romania. The main summit of T16, climbed in 2024 and named Skarma Mindruk Ri, is hidden to the left. At right is unclimbed T13 (6,436m). Photo by Matic Jošt.

Chhogo Tokpo, Four First Ascents

“Uroš Cigljar, Tilen Cmok, Boštjan Dečman, Nejc Škrablin, Tomaž Žerovnik, and I arrived on July 7 at base camp in the Chhogo Tokpo, the eastern branch of the Haptal Tokpo. [Tokpo is a word for “valley” in this area of India.] While several parties had visited adjacent valleys and climbed a few peaks on the watershed ridges with the Chhogo, the only reported climbing expedition to visit the Chhogo valley was an Indian-Romanian team in 2016 that climbed one peak and attempted another (AAJ 2017).

“A very complex 6,431m mountain known as T16 was our main objective. [Peaks above various Zanskar valleys were numbered by Kimikazu Sakamoto, whose teams made exploratory expeditions in Zanskar from 2009 to 2016; Sakamoto published the first climber-friendly topographical sketches of these mountains.] The lower south summit was climbed by Romanians Cosmin Andron and Cristina Pogacean in 2016, but the easiest approach to the main top appeared to lie up the south slopes above the Khapang Glacier, east of the Chhogo valley. The big riddle was finding a suitable passage from the Chhogo to the Khapang, and we decided to devote part of our acclimatization to solving this problem.

The final ascent to Skarma Mindruk Ri (6,431m), the peak formerly known as T16. Photo by Matic Jošt.

“Aiming for a col on the ridge south of T16, we hiked up a side glacier, passing the route climbed by the Romanians, and climbed a 300m west-facing gully (300m, D+ 60° M3) to reach the col (5,836m). From there, it would be easy to descend to the gentle Khapang Glacier and traverse over to T16’s main peak.

“The whole team returned to the col camp on the 14th, and the next day, in perfect weather, we climbed south-facing slopes above the Khapang Glacier and along the east ridge to the summit of T16 (600m, D+ 60°). Our expedition had been organized by a club from the Slovenian town Šentjur, so we named our route Šentjurka (900m, D+). We later encouraged people in the nearest village, Tungri, to suggest a name for the peak, and they came up with Skarma Mindruk Ri. (Skarma is “star,” and Mindruk is a specific star in the constellation of Pleiades.) Maybe the name will catch on.”

Boštjan Dečman and Nejc Škrablin on the upper Khapang Glacier. The col they crossed to reach the glacier is just left of Škrablin. The huge rock fin behind leads to unclimbed T13 (6,436m). In back on the left is unclimbed Peak T11 (6,177m). Photo by Matic Jošt.

Later in this expedition, Jošt and Žerovnik crossed a different col to reach the Korlomshe Tokpo, where a British team in 2015 had attempted what they called a “Matterhorn-like peak.” The Slovenians climbed the east face and south slopes to reach the 6,130m summit. “We named the route Charlatan De Balkan (500m, D+ 60° ice) after an album by a popular Slovenian group,” Jošt writes. “As the peak was absolutely nothing like the famous Swiss mountain, we named it Antimatterhorn.”

Team members also attempted the west face of unclimbed Peak 5,435m, close to base camp, and made the first ascent rock tower east of camp, which was dubbed Ibex (5,321m).

Below the east face of the Antimatterhorn (6,130m). Photo by Tomaž Žerovnik.

By July 24, most of the party had left base camp. “Although I’ve been climbing around 45 years, I don’t have much experience with soloing, but I decided to try the north face of T9 (6,107m), which I had seen from the Antimatterhorn approach,” Jošt writes in his report. “I left base camp at 1 a.m. on the 25th, carrying two axes but no rope. The north face became icier and brittle the higher I climbed, but at 8:30 a.m. I reached the west ridge. The upper section of this ridge was rockier, but in one hour I was standing on the summit.” Uncomfortable with downclimbing the north face he had ascended, he headed down a couloir on the southwest face to a neighboring glacier, traversing the mountain, and made it back to base camp by 3 p.m.

“The locals suggested the name Spao Ri for the peak. It means “brave mountain.” I named the route Old and Abandoned (700m, TD II/III 75° ice). Why? Because I’m not young anymore.”

Jošt’s comprehensive report from the 2024 expedition, including some general notes on climbing in Zanskar, will be available at the AAJ website later this year. To see a copy sooner, email [email protected].

—Matic Jošt, Slovenia


Four Questions

Matic Jošt, 55, first appeared in the AAJ in 1996 as a member of a Slovenian expedition to Gasherbrum I. His expeditions have taken him to high mountains throughout Asia, as well as climbs in Peru.  

Jošt climbing the north face of Planja in the Julian Alps of Slovenia. Photo by in Matjaž Dušič.

Q. Where do you live in Slovenia and what do you do for work there?

A. At the moment, I mostly live close to Celje in the central part of Slovenia. I am a self-employed engineer. In 2021, I applied for the IFMGA guide course and probably will finish this summer. So, last year I earned some money as an aspirant guide, too. I also sometimes do rope access work.

Q. What is it about Zanskar that keeps luring you back? 

A. Easy logistics and some unexplored areas, nice local people. The mountains are not so high, and I can find easily something that fits my ambitions. It is not too expensive, and I can afford it. And after all, I am quite familiar with the geography of the region. 

Q. Are there issues with climbing there?

A. The lack of quality maps in the area has partly been mitigated by navigation applications, but there is still confusion regarding peak names and, over the years, a general lack of systematic recording of activity. The IMF (Indian Mountaineering Federation) has a list of open peaks that includes geographical coordinates and altitudes, but they simply number the peaks; very few mountains on the list have names.

I also think the IMF expedition policy for foreigners and their system based on “peak permissions” is out of date and quite inappropriate for such areas as Zanskar and other mountain ranges north of the main Himalayan divide. A more suitable management model would set boundaries within which climbers could choose any peaks they want to attempt.

Q. Other than your trips to India, what have been your favorite international expeditions? And where is your favorite place to climb at home?

A. All of my expeditions are my favorite. I am happy that from all the expeditions which I have participated in, we all came home alive. We have had some close escapes, accidents, and injuries, but we had luck. At home I really like Ojstrica (in the eastern Kannik Alps). It has nice north face above Logarska dolina (valley) to climb in summer, and nice southern slopes for skiing in winter. I also sport climb as much as I can to keep my fitness. 


The Line is the newsletter of the American Alpine Journal (AAJ), emailed to more than 80,000 climbers each month. Find the archive of past editions here. Interested in supporting this publication? Contact Heidi McDowell for opportunities. Got a potential story for the AAJ? Email us: [email protected].

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The Prescription—Bouldering Fall

Photo by AAC Member Merrick Ales

It’s bouldering season in Hueco Tanks, Texas. While most consider bouldering relatively safe, it is perhaps the most accident- and injury-plagued facet of climbing. This month we bring you an accident that took place in 2024 on a famous John Sherman highball called See Spot Run.  

This accident will be featured in the 2025 Accidents in North American Climbing.


Bouldering Fall | Poor Pad Placement

Hueco Tanks State Park, North Mountain

Hueco Tanks is a world-class climbing area known for its outstanding bouldering. It’s also known for having more than its fair share of spicy highball problems. Photo: Pete Takeda.

On January 22, I (Pete Korpics, 35) was attempting to climb a long-standing project of mine called See Spot Run (V6). I was well aware of the risks involved and that it would require ample padding. 

During previous sessions, I had placed six or more pads in a wide area including the back of the fall zone. Six pads or more is ideal, but I was admittedly negligent on the day of the accident, as I felt I’d complete the route and was excited to do it. I also felt that the pad number and pad placement—five total and not as wide as prior attempts—was adequate, given the presence of two spotters. I felt very strong getting to the crux. After pulling through the crux, I got very pumped, lost momentum, and hesitated. We all know that moment when you feel uncertain about the next move. In those moments we tell ourselves, “Do it anyway.” Sometimes this works, but often it doesn’t. In this case, I fell. 

I fell from roughly 15 feet up, with quite a bit of force. My spotters were hesitant to put their bodies in harm’s way. I had told them that, above the crux, staying clear was the best thing to do. Having two people injured is worse than one. 

Due to the momentum of the fall and the poor pad placement, my left foot hit the rock and right foot hit the pad. I severely sprained my ankle. It was probably not helpful that it has in the past received the same injury.  

Pete Korpics on an early attempt on See Spot Run. He recalls, “I was very familiar with this famous and dangerous route, as I’d been attempting it for several years.” Photo: Pete Takeda.


ANALYSIS 

Bouldering is inherently dangerous, and highball problems particularly so. Besides being a four-star John Sherman classic, See Spot Run is a notorious ankle breaker. It is 25 feet tall and described on Mountainproject.com as “one of the more notorious highball problems at Hueco.”

During the same season that Korpics had his accident, other falls from the route caused multiple ankle sprains.

Keep ‘Em On The Pad!

On highballs, the impact forces of a falling climber can be equally hazardous to the spotter. The general rule for highballs (and all bouldering for that matter) is to ensure that the falling climber lands on the pads and stays on the pads after impact. Spotting might look less like controlling and guiding the fall, and more like giving the falling climber a shove to keep them on the pads. The spotter(s) should also protect the head and neck from striking bare ground, rocks, etc.

Korpics wrote to ANAC: ”Preventable action would have included better pad placement and more pads. We could have used thinner pads to cover gaps between pads. This accident may also have been prevented by assertive spotting, and a strong shove from one of the spotters would have landed me on the pads. That possibility was negated because I had instructed my spotters to stand clear if I fell from above the crux.

“Confidence should not lead to complacency,” he continued. “I’d been climbing a lot and climbing well, including numerous highballs prior to the accident, so I’d let my guard down. I do not blame the spotters, as I had given them specific instructions. I had placed the pads, I chose to climb despite knowing more pads would be better, and the injury was my fault.”

(Sources: Pete Korpics, Mountainproject.com, and the Editors.)


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Celebrating AAC Member Bill Atkinson's 100th Birthday

Provided by Holley Atkinson.

Climbing is a powerful force that connects us. Even when climbing takes a backseat in our lives, we are still connected to the people we have partnered with, the places we have climbed, and the impact we have had.

Today, we celebrate the 100th birthday of one of our members, Bill Atkinson. Bill started climbing in the Shawangunks in the late 50's and joined the American Alpine Club in 1978. He was the New England Section Chair and was awarded the Angelo Heilprin Citation Award in 2006 for exemplary service to the Club. He is one of our oldest members and has been a member of the American Alpine Club for 47 years.

Happiest centennial to you, Bill!


Below, you'll find reflections from climbers celebrating Bill's incredible impact and character:

PC: Chris Vultaggio

Bill, your presence in our climbing world has been productive and prolific—and your life has been the same! Your postings have always been inspiring. Thanks for doing all of those. Some segments should be required before being granted membership in the AAC!

We never climbed together – except at the Annual AAC New England Section and some Annual Dinners. That is to say, climbing up to the bar. I'm fifteen years younger, so you were out there ahead of me. But I have you beat on one score! I climbed Mt. Sir Donald via the same route you took, but back in 1962. I was also in the Bugaboos that summer.

You'll be getting a lot of these postings, so I'll keep this short. Thanks again for all you've done for our world. Happy Century! Hang around for another 15 so you can help me celebrate mine.

–Jed Williamson


Happy Birthday, Bill,

You are one very special person, a thoughtful, helpful climber with such an important history of climbing in New England. I respect you and your contributions to the AAC and climbing. Hats off to you, young man. I salute you for your many contributions.

Thank you, and special wishes every day.

Happy Birthday,

Bruce Franks


Rick Merrit celebrates Bill's Birthday by remembering the times they connected through climbing…

Bill was a great section leader as I became more involved in the AAC. He worked hard to recruit and recognize new members through our section's formal dinners. I remember climbing with him on White Horse Ledge in North Conway when he was in his 80s. I also remember hiking with Bill and his friend Dee Molinar when the ABD was at Smith Rock.

Warm regards to Bill,

Rick Merritt


I mainly know Bill through the AAC, specifically the New England chapter, which Bill energetically chaired for many years. We all looked forward to the wonderful black tie annual dinners held in the old Tufts mansion in Weston, MA, that he so carefully organized.

I always enjoyed listening to Bill's extraordinary life experiences, like when he served as a radar navigator in a B52 in the Pacific during WWII, or marveling at his many fascinating inventions and creations, like the beautiful chess boards he crafted and, of course, his amazing climbing career. Bill remained extremely active as a climber long after most of his peers retired, and I remember he climbed the Black Dike when he was 80, I think! That may have been the oldest ascent ever!

I've always appreciated Bill's kind, soft-spoken character and the interest he always showed in others. Bill is a true Renaissance man, and I feel fortunate to know him.

Happy 100th birthday, Bill!

What a milestone!

–Mark Richey


The Line: Ascents for the Ages

Babsi Zangerl high on Free Rider during her first flash ascent of El Cap. Photo by Miya Tsudome for Highpoint Productions. 

BABSI ON FREE RIDER—THE PODCAST

Babsi Zangerl’s flash ascent of Free Rider on El Capitan in November—the first flash of any El Cap big-wall free route—was a highlight of the year in climbing. In the new Cutting Edge podcast, the 36-year-old Austrian climber describes her preparation, fears, and the intense effort of her no-falls ascent of the 5.13a wall. Plus, Alex Honnold, Josh Wharton, and AAJ editor Dougald MacDonald add personal perspective and context on Babsi’s historic Free Rider ascent. Listen to the new episode here!


Yawash Sar I (6,258m) in far northern Pakistan. The round-trip from base camp took seven days. Photo: Janusz Majer.

FOWLER-SAUNDERS IN PAKISTAN

Two of the most accomplished and adventurous climbers of the modern era are Mick Fowler, a retired tax inspector for Great Britain’s revenue department, and Victor Saunders, a U.K. architect turned Chamonix mountain guide. The two completed their first major new route in Pakistan together 37 years ago. This past autumn, Fowler, now age 68, and Saunders, 74, completed another big new route: the first ascent of a 6,258-meter peak, also in Pakistan. Read on to learn more about both climbs.

YAWASH SAR I, FIRST ASCENT

Victor Saunders (left) and Mick Fowler in Pakistan. Photo by Mick Fowler.

In September 2024, Victor Saunders and I made the first ascent of Yawash Sar I (6,258m), a shapely peak at the head of the Koksil (a.k.a. Shop Dur) Glacier in the Ghujerab Mountains, very near the frontier with China. [In 2022, a British team made three attempts on the south face and southern ridges of Yawash Sar I, on the opposite side of the mountain. (See AAJ 2023.) No prior attempt from the Koksil Glacier, which drains to the northwest, has been reported.

Victor and I met in Islamabad on August 26, flew to Gilgit, spent a night in Karimabad, and arrived at Koksil (ca 4,000m), 12 kilometers west of Khunjerab Pass on the Karakoram Highway, on the 28th. Bad weather delayed us for a day, but on the 30th, after one day of walking, we established a base camp at around 4,600 meters on the highest grassy meadows below the Koksil Glacier.

You call this a retirement home? Fowler at the cramped first bivouac on Yawash Sar I. Photo by Victor Saunders.

The weather was unstable over the period from August 31 to September 9. However, we were able to make a reconnaissance of the approach to Yawash Sar and get good views of its north and northwest flanks. During this period, to aid acclimatization and get more views of Yawash Sar, we ascended Peak 5,636m, first climbed by a Polish-Italian team in 2011 (see AAJ 2012).

On September 10, we left base camp to attempt our main objective. That day we walked up the main Koksil Glacier to camp at a point below the 5,426m West Yawash Col. On the 11th we climbed through an icefall to gain the previously unvisited glacier basin between Yawash Sar I and Peak 6,072m.

The west-northwest face of Yawash Sar I has three groove/couloir lines. We climbed the central one. On September 12, we crossed the bergschrund and were pleased to find excellent conditions. Once established on the line, we climbed thin ice runnels to a bivouac at about 5,750m. There was a notable dearth of good bivouac sites, and we had to traverse about 35m out of the couloir to a point where we were able to fashion a ledge on a sharp rock crest. On the 13th, we climbed more thin ice streaks and mixed ground to meet the southwest ridge at about 6,050m. Here, we endured a very uncomfortable and windy sitting bivouac.

Saunders arriving at a belay on Yawash Sar I. The high summit on the left is unclimbed Peak 6,072m. Photo by Mick Fowler.

On the 14th the weather deteriorated, and it began to snow. We traversed left across a rock wall (where we’d been concerned we might be stopped) and gained the summit slopes, which we followed to the top, arriving at around 11 a.m. We stayed about five minutes and then rappelled all the way to the bottom of the face, reaching the glacier at about midnight on the same day. On the 15th and 16th, we returned to base camp.

The upper reaches of the Koksil Glacier had only been visited by one previous party, the Polish/Italian team noted above, and numerous possibilities for climbers remain.

— Mick Fowler, U.K.


Much of the Golden Pillar of Spantik consisted of thin ice or powder snow over marble slabs, making for long runouts and very insecure climbing. Photo by Victor Saunders from AAJ 1988.

THE GOLDEN PILLAR OF SPANTIK

If the Piolets d’Or had existed at the time (they didn’t debut until 1992), Mick Fowler and Victor Saunders’ ascent of the Golden Pillar of Spantik (7,027m) in 1987 surely would have earned them a golden ice axe. Their six-day climb of the 2,100m northwest face was a landmark of late-’80s alpinism, with bold climbing in unstable weather on a stunning formation, followed by a nerve-wracking descent on uncharted terrain. Here’s an excerpt from Saunders’ article in AAJ 1988, describing day four of the climb:

Photo from AAJ 1988 by Victor Saunders.

“By midday, we reached a large flat ledge, the top of a giant jammed block. There we made tea and relaxed until it occurred to us to look up. We were completely surrounded by overhangs. Fowler led an aid pitch to gain the lowest of a series of ramps. The lower ramps led to a shield, which was the other area of uncertainty for us. From Base Camp there had appeared to be no line around this feature, but a hidden chimney revealed itself at the end of the ramp. Because it was blank-sided and there was no belay at the top, I had to belay Mick by wedging my body across the chimney and asking him not to fall.

“I do not remember having a more miserable bivouac than the one we had that night. We were benighted and there was no ledge, nor even the possibility of cutting one on the thin ice. We used the tent as a hanging bag, inside of which Mick spent the night in his harness, while I stood in my rucksack. It snowed all night.”

There’s much more to enjoy in this classic AAJ story: Read it here. To see the story in its original format, download the PDF (icon in upper right of the web page.)


FOWLER AND SAUNDERS: FURTHER READING

Fowler and Saunders have published many articles and books, replete with wild adventures and Brit-style self-deprecating humor. For tales from Fowler’s early years, turn to his 1995 book Vertical Pleasure: The Secret Life of a Tax Man. Saunders’ 1990 book Elusive Summits (winner of Britain’s Boardman Tasker Prize) is probably his best. Both books describe the landmark Spantik ascent.


The Line is the newsletter of the American Alpine Journal (AAJ), emailed to more than 80,000 climbers each month. Find the archive of past editions here. Interested in supporting this publication? Contact Heidi McDowell for opportunities. Got a potential story for the AAJ? Email us: [email protected].

CLIMB: Behind the Scenes of the Cutting Edge Grant, with Jack Tackle

In this episode, we sit down with legend Jack Tackle to discuss all things cutting edge. We begin by diving into the many first ascents of Jack’s own alpinism career, his progress as a climber, and his deep history with the AAC. We cover the evolution of adventure grants in climbing, how the AAC’s Cutting Edge Grant got started, and why it’s the premiere climbing grant in today’s climbing scene. We also cover the last few years of successes that have come out of Cutting Edge Grant expeditions, a behind the scenes look at some of the considerations these alpinists face when pursuing such high-end objectives, and how Jack’s experience can shed light on the significance of these ascents. Plus, we cover some of the other AAC grants and how they meet the needs of climbers at all levels. 

We don’t cover the exact details of the expedition planning process, or how important it is for these expeditions to be respectful and cognizant of both local cultures and environmental issues, or what happens when things go disastrously wrong. That’s for another episode!

If you love following the cutting edge of climbing, or are considering applying to the Cutting Edge Grant yourself this year, or want to soak up Jack’s wisdom, this dive into the history and present of adventure grants is a fascinating look at the logistics it takes to pursue the cutting edge! 

You still have time to apply to the 2024 Cutting Edge Grant, presented by Black Diamond! Apply before midnight on Dec 31, 2024.