Guidebook XII—Member Spotlight

Josh Polluck “smedging” his way up Con Cuidado y Comunidad (5.6) at the Narrow Gauge Slabs. Land of the Ute and Cheyenne peoples. AAC Graphic Designer Foster Denney

Con Cuidado Y Communidad

By Sierra McGivney

Driving towards Highway 285, we pass strips of red rock cutting through the foothills of Morrison in Colorado’s Front Range, chasing the promise of new climbs. In the front seat, Josh Pollock describes the Narrow Gauge Slab, a new crag he has been developing in Jefferson County.

Pollock is the type of person who points out the ecology of the world around him. As the car weaves along the mid-elevation Ponderosa Pine forest, Pollock describes how we’ll see cute pin cushion cacti, black-chinned or broad-tailed hummingbirds, and Douglas-fir tussock moth caterpillars.

We pull into a three-level parking lot about seven miles down the Pine Valley Ranch Road. With no cell service and heavy packs, we set off along an old railroad trail toward the crag. Not even ten minutes into our walk, Pollock turns off, and we are greeted by a Jeffco trail crew building switchbacks to the crag.

As we approach the base of the Narrow Gauge Slab, Pollock picks up the dry soil. Fine granular rocks sit in the palm of his hand as he describes how this is the soil’s natural state because of Colorado’s alpine desert climate.

Photo by Anne Ludolph.

Unsurprisingly, Pollock was a high school teacher at the Rocky Mountain School of Expeditionary Learning in a past life; now, he is a freelance tutor and executive function coach. A Golden local and climbing developer, he has been working to develop the Narrow Gauge Slab since 2021.

Pollock first became interested in route development in 2011. He wasn’t climbing much then, instead focusing on raising his second child. Flipping through a climbing magazine one day, an article about route development caught his eye.

Between naps, diaper changes, and bottle-feeding cycles, he would go for quick trail runs in the foothills by his house in Golden. During his runs, Pollock noticed cliffs that weren’t in guidebooks or on Mountain Project. He began imagining how future climbers might experience and enjoy the rock.

“The routes I can produce for the community are moderate and adventurous but accessible,” said Pollock.


Climbing in Clear Creek is a high-volume affair. Jeffco Open Space (JCOS), the land management department for Jefferson Country, started to recognize this during the five years from 2008 to 2013 when climbing in the area exploded. With such a high volume of all kinds of outdoor enthusiasts recreating in Jefferson County, including climbers, adverse impacts on the land followed, including increased erosion and propagation of noxious weeds. Previously, Jeffco Open Space took a more hands-off approach when it came to climbing. However, because their mission is to protect and preserve open space and parkland, they concluded the increased popularity of climbing in the area warranted more active management.

While Jeffco Open Space had a few climbers on staff, they quickly realized they were not qualified to make decisions surrounding fixed hardware and route development. They turned to the local climbing community.

In 2015, Pollock began developing routes at Tiers of Zion, a wooded crag overlooking Clear Creek Canyon in Golden. In 2016, Jeffco Open Space established the Fixed Hardware Review Committee (FHRC) with Pollock as one of its seven advisors—now eight. The FHRC provides expert analysis to Jeffco staff members regarding applications for installing or replacing fixed hardware in the area (including slacklining). As a formal collaborative effort between local climbers, route developers, and Jeffco land managers, it is one of the first of its kind in the country.

Eric Krause, the Visitor Relations Program Manager and Park Ranger with Jeffco Open Space, deals with literal and figurative fires weekly and is responsible for all climbing management guidelines. He sits in on meetings and speaks for Jeffco.

“I think really good communication between a landowner or land manager and the climbing community is imperative,” said Krause.

Since 2015, Jeffco Open Space has invested more than 1.5 million dollars to improve the access and sustainability of existing crags by stabilizing eroding base areas, building durable and designated access trails, supplying stainless steel hardware to replace aging bolts, supplying portable toilet bags to reduce human waste at crags, and rehabilitating unsustainable areas.

If new routes for an existing crag are submitted to the FHRC via their online form, it’s already an impacted area, so it’s more likely to be approved. During their quarterly meeting, each member of the FHRC reviews the submission and discusses whether the new route(s) is a worthwhile addition to climbing in Jefferson County. A route that might be denied is within the 5.7-5.10 range at a crag with limited parking and heavy trail erosion, because routes in that range tend to attract the highest volume of climbers.

“We don’t really want to be adding more sites that are just going to degrade, and we’d rather get in there ahead of time and build it out to where it’s sustainable to begin with,” said Krause.

If a new crag is submitted, this triggers an entirely different internal review process called the “New Crag Evaluation Criteria (NCEC),” overseen by Jeffco Open Space. Every individual on the JCOS internal climb- ing committee (comprised of staff from the Park Ranger, Trails, Natural Resources, Planning, Park Services, and Visitor Relations teams) independently rates the new crag based on various categories: potential access trails, environmental considerations, parking, traffic, community input, organizational capacity, visitor experience, and sanitation management. They then average all of the scores for the submitted crag, and its viability is discussed.

To combat the ever-growing need for accessible places for new climbers, families, guided parties, and folks looking for high-quality moderate climbing, Jeffco asked the FHRC and others if they could find a beginner-friendly new crag in the southern part of the county, where there are fewer climbing areas.

According to Krause, Pollock took this request to heart and started looking all over the county for a new crag. He struggled to find a place with adequate parking, access to bathrooms, and the ability to build new trails on stable ground. “Threading that needle is hard, and it took several years and maybe half a dozen possible locations to find one that worked,” said Pollock.

An open space staffer suggested he look at the area that is now the Narrow Gauge Slab.

When Pollock first walked along the base of what would become a major project in his life, the Narrow Gauge Slab, he felt compelled by the rock’s position, composure, and aesthetic. He began imagining routes to climb. The crack features broke the wall up into clean-looking panels.

For Pollock, unlocking the potential of a crag is an unanswered question until the last moment.

“There’s a great drama to it,” said Pollock.

He proposed the crag in 2021. The Narrow Gauge Slab would become the first crag approved under the NCEC framework.

“I think what I’m most excited about is that this whole endeavor has been collaborative and cooperative with Jeffco Open Space from the get-go,” said Pollock.


Jeffco is constantly playing catch up with erosion damage in an arid climate like the Front Range. At the Narrow Gauge Slab, Jeffco had the opportunity to identify and implement adequate infrastructure for the area before route development began.

“In some ways [it is a] first of its kind experiment, with building a sustainable access trail and stabilizing belay pads on the base area and things like that before lots of user traffic shows up,” said Pollock. The Boulder Climbing Community, the AAC Denver Chapter, and Jeffco collaborated to stabilize and build out the area before the crag opened to the public.

According to Pollock, the crag does not have a theme. Since this crag has many developers, and sometimes multiple developers to any given climb, the route names have personal meaning to the developers or the circumstances of the route. But when you look closely, a kaleidoscope of meaning comes into view: collaboration.

His primary objective with the Narrow Gauge Slab was to develop a moderate and accessible crag, but the project evolved into something much more: mentoring climbers on route development. He reached out to different LCOs, such as Cruxing in Color, Brown Girls Climb Colorado, Escala, Latino Outdoors, and the AAC Denver Chapter, inviting members to participate in a mentorship program based on route development. In total, there are 16 mentees and five mentors, plus Pollock. Despite uncovering the crag, Pollock has barely put any hardware in.

Route development is a niche aspect of climbing that requires extensive resources and knowledge. Pollock wanted to invite new groups of climbers who might not consider themselves route developers but were interested in learning. He is pleased that the mentees have learned from this project and are developing new routes near the Front Range. Some mentees have been swallowed whole by the development bug. Lily Toyokura Hill is so enthused that she was recently appointed to the nearby Staunton Fixed Hardware Review Committee.

Photo by Anne Ludolph.

Hill and Ali Arfeen collaborated on Bonsai, a 5.7 climb featuring a tiny tree sticking out of the rock. Hill, who is shorter, and Arfeen, who is taller, would take Pollock’s kid’s sidewalk chalk and mark key holds they could reach, helping to determine where they would place bolts when they were developing the route’s first pitch.

To the left is Con Cuidado y Comunidad (With Care and Community), a three-pitch 5.6 put up by (P1) Sharon Yun and AAC employee Xavier Bravo, and (P2+3) Maureen Fitzpatrick and Cara Hubbell.

While Pollock racks up to lead Con Cuidado y Comunidad, Douglas-fir caterpillars inter- rupt our conversation. Pollock stops, pointing out the fuzzy horned creature on his bag. He describes how their population erupts every seven to ten years. His father was a biology teacher, and both of his children are fascinated by ecology.

On top of Con Cuidado y Comunidad, we picnic overlooking the epic landscape of the South Platte. Pollock explains how climbing at the Narrow Gauge Slab requires what he calls “smedging,” a mix of smearing and edging.

Climbs are littered with minuscule footholds and often require both smearing and edging to climb. Pollock prefers this type of movement: slow and thoughtful.

The last bolt for the Narrow Gauge Slab was drilled on August 19, just in time for opening day on the 24th. Pollock feels immense pride in the crag.

“It is really satisfying to share the crag with folks and give to the community,” said Pollock.

On these south-facing slabs, there are thirteen routes ranging from 5.4 to 5.9+, spread across the crag’s granite rock. You can listen to the babble of the South Platte River as you climb, breathing in the smell of fresh pine needles as you stand up on a tiny food hold. Don’t forget to look out for the Douglas-fir caterpillars inching their way across the rock as you clip the bolts.


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Guidebook XII—Grant Spotlight

The Emperor Face of Mt. Robson in water color and ink. AAC member Craig Muderlak

Mountain Sense

By Sierra McGivney

Usually, when Balin Miller encounters spindrift ice climbing, he puts his head down, waits for 10 to 20 seconds, and continues climbing. Halfway up the face of the Andromeda Strain, a line on the northeast face of Mount Andromeda in Alberta, Canada, Miller and his climbing partner Adrien Costa encountered an intense spindrift funnel. Thirty seconds passed, then one minute, two. After five minutes, he thought, f*** this, and downclimbed.

Miller was persistent, but the spindrift was relentless. They wasted a couple of hours trying to go around.

“You couldn’t see anything, even if you wanted to push through,” said Miller.

Miller and Costa peered around to where the climbing turned into a chimney. A wall of white snow poured down it. They turned back a pitch before the Hockey Stick Crack, disappointed that they wouldn’t be able to live the lore embedded in that pitch. This wouldn’t be the last time they tested their judgment in the mountains and turned away from an objective.

“I think what gets me most stoked for routes isn’t really how good they are, per se, but a lot of the history involved in it—the route that has some old trip report of people getting really scared on it,” said Miller.

This might be why Miller chose the Andromeda Strain as one of his objectives for this 2023 Mountaineering Fellowship Fund Grant (MFFG) trip. Apart from being one of the most popular yet serious alpine climbs in the Canadian Rockies, it has an epic story. An unsuccessful earlier group tried to ascend the off-width and found it too wide to take anything but one-foot lengths of hewn-off hockey sticks (an eerie, early rendition of the Trango Big Bro). Having no hockey sticks handy in 1983, Barry Blanchard, Dave Cheesmond, and Tim Friesen traversed beneath the off-width and around the corner to a steep snow-choked chimney that became the Hockey Stick Crack.

Miller originally applied for the MFFG from the American Alpine Club to support an expedition to the Alaska Range. He was awarded the grant but had to change his trip to the Canadian Rockies due to financial constraints. This grant funds climbers 25 years or younger seeking challenging climbs in remote places. One of Miller’s partners, Adrien Costa, has previously leveraged other AAC grants, including the Tincup Partner in Adventure Grant in 2021 and the Catalyst Grant in 2021 and 2023. The AAC grants can be a great jumping-off point for climbers looking to dream big.

Miller is an ice climber who spends his summers in Alaska and his winters in Bozeman. He got into climbing at the age of 12 and was versed in both ice and rock climbing growing up in Alaska. He is stalwart when it comes to ice climbing, but he has a goofy aura. You can deduce from photos of his trip that he doesn’t take himself too seriously, even on big alpine climbs.

After getting turned around on the Andromeda Strain, Miller and Costa climbed Dreambed (5.11 PG-13) on Mount Yamnuska and enjoyed a sunny day on rock. The two saw a weather window coming up and turned their gaze to Mount Robson or Yuh-hai- haskun (“The Mountain of the Spiral Road”), the highest peak in Canada. Infinite Patience (2200m, VI 5.9 WI5 M5) climbs the north side of the Emperor Face of Mount Robson until it merges with the Emperor Ridge (2500m, V 5.6). This was another big objective for Miller. Despite a solid weather window and the season being in their favor, new challenges awaited the group.

Aidan Whitelaw, six feet, four inches tall with a high-pitched voice, is one of Miller’s best friends. Despite being a student at Montana State University in Bozeman, he’s almost always down to skip class if it means going climbing.

With Whitelaw newly arrived, they set off on their adventure with only one rope, trying to go as light as possible. One rope between three climbers is OK if they don’t need to bail, but just in case, the team brought a Beal Escaper.

Miller wrote in his trip report: “Leaving the parking lot on October 5, Aidan Whitelaw, Adrien, and I hiked into Berg Lake, camping at the base of the face. [We] started up the face at 2 a.m. on the 6th. We soon realized that the direct start was out of condition. It’s usually [three pitches of WI 4 or 5] but turned out to be steep, wet melting snice. We opted to traverse right to gain Bubba’s Couloir. Unfortunately, there was no alpine ice left in the couloir. But the snow climbing was moderate but unprotectable. We eventually decided to bail after the House Traverse, which is roughly halfway up the Emperor Face to the ridge on Infinite Patience.”

Deciding to bail had become extremely obvious to the group. They encountered compact limestone with no cracks and nothing to sling. The group was fine leaving cams or pins but couldn’t find good placements to make anchors. They decided to deadman their ice tools, burying them to create a snow anchor to rappel off.

“It was the worst rock imaginable,” said Miller.

Eventually, they reached a bivy spot and got cozy, fitting three people into a two-person tent and Whitelaw and Miller into one sleeping bag. At noon the next day, they started their descent, which consisted of rappelling off V-threads and lousy rock anchors.

Balin Miller, Adrien Costa, and Aiden Whitelaw at the bivy spot on Infinite Patience getting cozy in a two-person tent. Land of the Mountain Metis, Stoney, Cree and Secwepemc peoples. AAC member Balin Miller

The Beal Escaper is a detachable rappelling device that allows you to descend on a single strand without permanently fixing the rappel and sacrificing the rope. To retrieve the rope, the climber tugs the rope ten to twenty times, causing the rope to inch through the Escaper and retrieve the rope.

The group was on 80-degree melting snow. No one had counted how many times they had pulled the rope to disengage the Escaper, but something was wrong. Everyone got quiet. They pulled as much rope through as they could, but ultimately, the rope refused to release. Unable to jug back up the rope out of fear that movement could release the device, and unable to solo back up because of 80 feet of steep bad snow and friable rock, they pulled out as much rope as they could and cut it. Only eight meters of rope were in their hands, the rest of it lost to the mountain. It was dark, and they didn’t know how far they were above the Mist Glacier.

They tied slings together as a pull cord, allowing them to do increments of full eight-meter rappels. Luckily, they were only 100 feet from the bottom.

Twenty-four hours later, Whitelaw was in class in Bozeman, Montana; no one was aware of the epic in the mountains he had just returned from.

Balin Miller questing off to lead a mixed pitch on Infinite Patience (VI5.9M5WI5).Land of the Mountain Metis, Stoney, Cree, and Secwepemc peoples. AAC member Adrian Costa

After several days off, Miller and Costa hiked into the Lloyd McKay Hut to attempt the north face of Alberta. However, they didn’t get the chance due to a storm and nine inches of wet snow. Miller wasn’t too bummed. Conditions weren’t in their favor, and there was always next year. Both Miller and Costa left after that, and Miller headed to Yosemite.

In November, Miller returned ready to ice climb. He climbed Suffer Machine (200m, WI5+ M7); Virtual Reality (100m, WI6+); Kittyhawk (150m, WI5), solo; and Nemesis (150m, WI6), solo.

He took a short break to visit his mom in Spokane, Washington. Ethan Berkeland flew out to meet him, and the pair drove about 430 miles back up to Canada with Slipstream in sight. Slipstream (900m, IV WI4+) climbs the east face of Snow Dome. It is infamous for it’s exposure to dangerous seracs, avalanches, and cornices, as evidenced by five reports in the Accidents in North American Climbing archive. Jim Elzinga and John Lauchlan first climbed it in 1979, and Mark Twight simul-soloed it in 1988 with Randy Rackliff.

“Anything Mark Twight does is awesome,” said Miller.

The previous fall, Miller had bailed after the approach when it had taken longer than expected, and “it just didn’t feel right.” Both Miller and Berkeland are solid ice climbers. They brought a full rope, a tagline, 14 screws, and a handful of draws, planning to solo the easier parts and pitch out the harder ones. They ended up simul-soloing the entire east face of Snow Dome on November 29 in four hours. In total, the day was thirteen hours from car to car.

After getting turned around on his previous alpine objectives, this was a great achievement for Miller.

Despite the epics on some of his original objectives, Miller found success. Each “failure” in the mountains is a lesson learned for the next climb, maybe even a cutting-edge ascent. The spindrift turned him around on Andromeda Strain, and Infinite Patience was out of condition, but Slipstream proved to be an amazing climb. Sometimes, infinite patience pays off in the mountains.


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Guidebook XII—AAC Advocacy

Photos by Torch Pictures.

Teaming Up in DC

By The Editors

As the AAC’s General Counsel and Advocacy Director, Byron Harvison, put it, advocacy work is like “being in charge of building and maintaining an aircraft while it’s already flying in the air—and there are still no guarantees. This work requires constant attention to detail and management of hundreds of relationships.” To your average climber who cares about public lands and advocating for climbing landscapes, the constant awareness of legislative processes and advocacy relationships can be exhausting— the runout pitch where you’d rather cede the lead. But for the AAC advocacy team and our partners like Outdoor Alliance, it’s the money pitch—our opportunity to ensure the perspec- tives of our members and other recreationists inform the policies that shape America’s public lands and recreational spaces.

That’s why this September, the AAC advocacy team, including AAC President Nina Williams, AAC Executive Director Ben Gabriel, AAC Deputy Director Ashlee Milanich, and AAC General Counsel and Advocacy Director Byron Harvison, showed up in DC–to pay attention to the details. One of those key details is our partnership with Outdoor Alliance (OA), a coalition of outdoor recreation nonprofit organizations that work together towards our shared goals of conservation and protecting public lands. On just this one trip to DC, the AAC team joined up with our OA coalition members, holding more than 80 meetings over two days with members of Congress and the Administration to advocate for protecting public lands, improving outdoor recreation, and funding the outdoors. Plus, we hung out with Tommy Caldwell to swap stories and inform legislators about the power of climbing in these incredible landscapes.

The trip was a celebration of Outdoor Alliance’s 10th anniversary, and the many wins that a collaboration between outdoor recreationists can accomplish. Since Outdoor Alliance started ten years ago, the coalition has collectively helped protect 40 million acres of public land and water, secured $5.1 billion in funding for the outdoors, and been instrumental in empowering outdoor enthu- siasts to become outdoor advocates. New to the Outdoor Alliance is the Grasstops Collective. It is a leadership and advocacy development program that trains grasstops advocates to build relationships with policymakers and advocate for conservation priorities. Grasstops leaders are unique for their meaningful voice in their communities, whether they are in business, nonprofit, or local government. This trip featured the OA’s first cohort from the Grasstops Collective joining legisla- tive and agency meetings.

“The collaborative energy of all the Outdoor Alliance organizations representing different sectors of the outdoor community was amaz- ing! There is a definite impact on legislators and their staff members when we all come to the table together. I’m a climber sitting next to a surfer and a paddler and a biker, and we all have different but equally compelling stories to share on why this legislation (the EXPLORE Act) should pass,” reflected Harvison.

One of OA and the AAC’s biggest policy priorities for the end of the year is the EXPLORE Act. The recreation community has been working for years on proposals to strengthen, protect, and expand outdoor recreation opportunities on our public lands and waters. As participation in outdoor recreation grows, it becomes even more important that public land management agencies like the Forest Service, Park Service, and Bureau of Land Management have sound policies and resources in place that will support sustainable and equitable outdoor recreation access. The EXPLORE Act is a first-of-its-kind package of recreation policy. It includes provisions that would safeguard rock climbing, identify and create long-distance bike trails, improve recreational permitting for outfitters and guides, and make permanent the Outdoor Recreation Legacy Partnership, which provides grants for green space in urban areas. Notably, the much talked about PARC Act, heavily supported by the Access Fund, is bundled into the EXPLORE Act, with the intention to protect the responsible use of bolts in Wilderness areas.

“The Outdoor Alliance 10th anniversary cele- bration in Washington DC reinforced the collective energy and determination needed to advance legislation like the EXPLORE Act. It highlights how partnerships are essential to advocating in service of our members,” said Ben Gabriel when reflecting on the power of the week-long trip.

Congress has a lot on its plate, including determining a federal budget, wading through the complexity of major wars throughout the world, and much more. With all that to work through, it’s no wonder that the EXPLORE Act has continued to be deferred as a main concern. However, there is overwhelming bipartisan support in the House and the Senate for the EXPLORE Act, and several complex paths for it to potentially pass. It’s all in the details, which is where outdoor advocates and policy leaders can step in.

We were joined by champions from American Whitewater, Access Fund, American Canoe Association, IMBA, The Mountaineers, Surfrider, Winter Wildlands Alliance, and leaders from the OA Grasstops Collective, as well as by partners at REI and Patagonia.


Support This Work— Join or Give Today

Your contribution will significantly impact climbers—whether they are learning how to avoid accidents through our updated database, using research funding to analyze melting ice caps and the changing heights of iconic mountains, or pursuing first ascents around the world. Your gift makes these things possible.

Guidebook XII—Rewind the Climb

Photo by AAC Staff Foster Denney.

The Naked Edge

By Hannah Provost

If you had to tell the story of the evolution of climbing within the history of one route, your most compelling choices might be The Nose of El Capitan or The Naked Edge in Eldorado Canyon. In this way, The Naked Edge is a time capsule containing within its memory: the much dreamed-of first ascent finally climbed by Layton Kor, Bob Culp, and Rick Horn; a period defining free ascent by Jim Erickson and Duncan Furgeson in the early 1970s; and one of the few battle- grounds for speed records in the United States. In 1962, Kor and Bob Culp were diverted attempting to aid the steep final edge, and today, climbers have speed climbed the route, bridge to bridge, in a little over 22 minutes. What is it about this climb that has allowed it to be the sketchbook for climbing legends to draw out the evolution of our sport? Anecdotes and artifacts from the American Alpine Club Library and archives provided the answer.

Perhaps it was all aesthetics—the compelling imagery of a climb that could divide dark- ness and light. Or maybe it was the fact that The Edge tends to rebuff many of its suitors. But whether The Naked Edge was dishing out a good humbling, or whether, as Jim Erickson famously argued, his free ascent style “humbled the climb” instead, The Naked Edge might live so prominently in our collective climbing memory because it encapsulates one of the great questions of each climbing endeavor. Who holds the power here? The climb or the climber?

At first, the route held all the cards. Layton Kor, known for his hulking height and wild, almost demonic, drive, could usually weaponize his determination and fearlessness to get through any hard climbing he might envision for himself. Yet when Layton Kor and Bob Culp attempted to aid the route in 1962, having each been turned away in 1961 on separate occasions, they still had to deviate from the original vision and finished the climb via a dihedral slightly to the left of the stunning final overhang. It wasn’t until Kor came back with Rick Horn in 1964 that The Edge, as we climb it today, was first done in its entirety.

Jim Erickson, a young gun with a knowing grin, hadn’t always been a hotshot. However, by the early 1970s, he had gotten into the habit of proving a point—freeing the old obscure aid lines in Eldo put up by Robbins, Kor, Dalke, and Ament the decade before. After several failed attempts to free The Naked Edge, repeatedly retreating from the first pitch finger crack due to a strict avoidance of hangdog- ging and rehearsing, freeing The Naked Edge was his foremost ambition.

By 1971, The Naked Edge had been ascended 30 or so times using direct aid. Erickson was envisioning a new phase of the route’s life. Yet his first moderately successful attempt, with prolific free climber Steve Wunsch, was yet another humbling. As he wrote for Climb!: The History of Rock Climbing in Colorado, the fourth pitch was daunting to the point of existential: “Steve dubs it impossible. I give it a disheartened try, but it is late so down we come, pondering the ultimate metaphysical questions: ‘Is there life after birth? Sex after death?’”

When Erickson and Duncan Ferguson returned a week later, things went a little more smoothly. Though The Naked Edge was the last major climb that the two would ascend using pitons, it wasn’t the use of pitons that haunted Erickson and sent him off on his staunch commitment to only onsight free -climbing. Rather, when Erickson reflects on the effort and technique of pitoncraft, and the incredible added effort of free climbing on pitons, he seems almost to be creating something, tinkering. Describing nailing the crux of the first thin pitch in an interview for the Legacy Series, a project of the AAC to preserve the history of climbing, Erickson painted a picture of immense toil: “You’re in this strenuous fingertip layback, with shoes that didn’t smear very well...You had to first of all figure out which piton you were going to place, you had to set it in the crack, you were doing all of this with one hand while you were hanging on. Then you had to tap the piton once to make sure you didn’t lose it... because if you missed it and dropped it you’re back to square one, so you had to tap the pin, finally hit it in, test it to see if it was good, then you’d clip a single free carabiner, and a second free carabiner into it, and then you would clip your rope in, all while you were hanging on with one hand in a bad finger lock.”

In the 1960s and 1970s, once a route was freed, it was not to be aided again. The rock had been sufficiently humbled, and all climbers seeking to prove their worth on that rock must level up their skills to prove themselves worthy.

Lynn Hill and Beth Bennett set out to capture an ascent of The Edge with filmmaker Bob Carmichael in 1981, who may have let the reputation of the climb leak into the produc- tion notes, asking the climbers to fall repeatedly on the first pitch and editing in a training mon- tage. Though the film claims to document the struggle of the first all-female ascent, Bennett reports: “the film with Lynn was a fictionalized account.” Bennett had already clinched the FFFA in 1977, and reports doing the first all-fe- male ascent with Louise Shepherd and Jean Dempsey (née Ruwitch) a year later. Similarly, Hill had become the first woman to climb 7c (5.12d) two years before, and was clearly stronger than the film suggests. Their humbling was played up for the sake of drama, and Hill wishes she could have properly attempted an onsight. In the case of this ascent, the humbling reputation of the climb dominated the narra- tive, obscuring the power the climbers’ held in that fight.

These days, news about The Naked Edge revolves around the potentially most hubristic

part of modern rock climbing: soloing and speed ascents. Speed ascents of this iconic route began in the early 1990s with Micheal Gilbert and Rob Slater. As the record dwin- dled, a friendly rivalry emerged between two teams consisting of Stefan Griebel and Jason Wells, and Brad Gobright and Scott Bennett. Before Gobright and Wells died in respective climbing accidents in Mexico and California, this friendly rivalry had pushed the record to 24 minutes and 29 seconds. New kids Ben Wilbur and John Ebers arrived on the scene in 2020 and, with just a few practice runs, cut down the record to 24 minutes and 14 sec- onds. In 2022, Griebel put on his racing shoes again and paired up with local Joe Kennedy, climbing The Naked Edge in 22 minutes and 44 seconds, bridge to bridge.

Griebel has climbed the route over 350 times. Sometimes pitched out and casual, some- times as reconnaissance missions, sometimes as three laps in three hours as he and Joe got closer to going for the Fastest Known Time. For these speed climbers, the route has become a “third place,” even more so than the climbing gym. Besides work and home, it has become the other, alternative place where one is social, makes connections, and refines one’s identity. Kennedy writes: “You could argue it’s a waste of time to climb it over and over, but doing so has led to some of the most meaningful friendships and climbing experiences I’ve had in my life. It has turned the route into a meeting place, a fitness test, a playground, and something so much more significant than just a rock climb.”

But even these modern masters of this stone can be humbled by the climb in their own way. Kennedy reflects: “I was totally humbled by the route when I first climbed it. It was much more difficult than I expected–thin, techy, pumpy, and slick. And when I don’t climb it for a while, I never fail to get more pumped than I thought, no matter how dialed my beta is.” Griebel is adamant the rock always does the humbling: “Sometimes it feels like the easiest one-pitch 5.9 warm-up in the canyon, and other days I mess up a crux sequence in the smallest way and suddenly get pumped and scared! The rock always does the humbling, not the other way around. I’ve seen 5.13 sport climbers fall out of the Bombay Chimney onto that 50-year-old pin!”

Reflecting today, Jim Erickson says his famous quote is often misunderstood. Indeed, he believes the style in which he and Furguson freed The Edge wasn’t the ethics he truly believed in—despite yo-yoing being an accepted practice at the time, he only ever truly felt satisfied by onsight climbing. But he also insists that he and his partners were hum- bled by the climb, too. In contrast to Griebel, Kennedy, and others, Erickson has never gotten back on The Naked Edge after his his- tory-making ascent. It was such a special experience that he worried that climbing it again would destroy the myth of it. Still, he can remember nearly every piece of beta, each pound of the hammer required to secure each piton.

Climbing it only once, Erickson is still torn by the question of humility. Climbing it hundreds of times, Griebel has yet to come any closer to finding the answer. So, who is doing the humbling? Perhaps, the fact that the answer is so elusive is why the pursuit of the question remains so satisfying.

The Line: A Great Year for Women in the Mountains

All-women teams have been exceptionally active around the world this year. This month we’re highlighting two of them: a Slovenian women’s expedition to Zanskar, India, and an Italian pair in the Pamir Alai of Kyrygzstan. Two other highly ambitious expeditions in 2024 involved American women: Chantel Astorga, supported by an AAC Cutting Edge Grant, nearly completed a new route up Shivling in India with Fanny Schmutz; and Michelle Dvorak, armed with a McNeill-Nott Grant, got high on the unclimbed southeast buttress of Chaukhamba III, also in India, with Fay Manners, before a rockfall incident forced them down. Just this month, Babsi Zangerl made her extraordinary flash of an El Cap free route. Plenty more women’s climbs will appear in the 2025 AAJ: See the gallery above for a little preview!


Anja Petek on the east ridge of Lalung I during the first known ascent of the peak. Photo: Patricija Verdev.

LALUNG I, FIRST ASCENT, VIA EAST-WEST TRAVERSE

Our all-female expedition to Zanskar, India, was comprised of Ana Baumgartner, Urša Kešar, Patricija Verdev, and me (all from Slovenia). On August 26, we left the road with 18 porters to climb in the Lalung Valley. Our main goal was Lalung I and neighboring peaks. The day after our arrival at base camp, we explored higher up the valley. It took an entire day to make a 20-kilometer round trip on moraine and glacial terrain, and, as the weather was poor, we didn’t see much of the higher peaks.

The four Slovenian women climbed four new routes and dealt with numerous bears at base camp during their expedition to the Lalung Valley in northern India. Expedition Photo.

On August 31, Patricija and I climbed a new route on a granite north-northwest face not far from base camp. This buttress, which starts at around 4,200 meters, lies on the south side of the valley and rises to Peak 5,346m. One route had been climbed previously near the center of this face, by Indians Korak Sanyal and Spandan Sanyal (see AAJ 2018). Our new route, Connection (VI-), took 15 hours and involved around 1,400 meters of climbing.

Before moving up to an advanced base camp, we had a nighttime visit from a bear. It was an unpleasant encounter, with the animal sniffing around our tents for food. All four climbers were happy to relocate to a bear-free advanced base at 4,800 meters. Urša had difficulties with the altitude, however, so after a couple of days she and Ana returned to base camp, where they and our cooks and liaison officer had to deal with a full-on bear saga. After more than 10 nighttime bear visits, resulting in Patricija’s tent being ripped, heaps of food stolen, and the toilet tent demolished, they managed to scare off the bears with fire and enjoy a few peaceful nights.

During this period, Urša and Ana climbed two more new routes on the north-northwest face of Peak 5,332m, finishing on the northwest ridge. Meanwhile, on September 9, Patricija and I left advanced base for the east ridge of unclimbed Lalung I (6,243m), camping a little way above the start. We’d had a forecast for a good weather window, but a snowstorm on the 10th forced us to set up tent in the middle of the day and sit out the bad weather. The storm lasted all the next day, but the 12th dawned clear and we climbed late into the night.

Lalung I (6,243m) from the north. The peak was traversed from left to right, with four bivouacs en route. Photo by Patricija Verdev.

Day five on the ridge required even more determination, and it wasn’t until 1:30 a.m. that we settled down for a rest, having climbed the final difficult mixed pitches. In a moment of carelessness brought on by fatigue, we lost our tent poles to the wind and slept in the open in bivouac sacks. The next morning was foggy, making it hard to navigate, but after some snow slopes, we reached the summit at 9 a.m. on the 14th.

We proceeded with a long descent along the west ridge and then five rappels on the north face to reach the glacier at 6:30 p.m. It took another eight hours to reach advanced base. Next day, we descended to base camp. Just before stepping off the moraine, we saw three silhouettes, Ana, Urša, and Freni, who brought smiles to our tired faces. We named our route Here Comes the Sun (M6+ AI5+, with around 2,000 meters of climbing).

— Anja Petek, Slovenia


 AK-SU VALLEY, PIK 3,850, MESSY DREAMERS

Camilla Reggio (left) and Alessandra Prato in Kyrgyzstan. Photo by Camilla Reggio.

Camilla Reggio and I met on the Eagle Team of the Italian Alpine Club (CAI) and immediately became friends, connected by our huge passion for the mountains. We decided to plan our first expedition together and ended up in Kyrgyzstan, with the intent of climbing on the incredible granite of the Ak-su Valley in the Pamir Alai mountains. We hoped to open a new route. 

Walking up and down the valley in search of possible lines, we were impressed by the 500m south face of Pik 3,850m (a.k.a. the south buttress of Pik Slesova). The following morning, August 12, we brought all our gear up to the wall, walking and scrambling for hours with incredibly heavy haulbags to reach the base. We found a five-star bivy spot—a small cave for two people lying close together—and got to  work. 

Messy Drreamers (15 pitches, 7b) on the south face of Pik 3,850m in the Ak-su Valley of Kyrgyzstan. Two prior routes ascended the same face, one on either side. In back is the well-known Pik Slesova (a.k.a. Russian Tower). Expedition Photo

We opened the first pitches, placing cams and pitons and one bolt for each anchor, and then returned to base camp, as excited as little kids. We returned the following day with food and sleeping gear. The route that followed was amazing, but harder then expected. We mostly opened it traditionally, bolting only when strictly necessary (10 lead bolts in 15 pitches). In all, we spent about a week of effort on the route, with four bivies in the cave, including one night with a terrible storm, trapped in the dripping cave and wondering if we would drown. The very next day, we managed to climb all the wet pitches and open the last ones, reaching the foresummit of Peak 3,850m (about five or six pitches of easy climbing from the true summit) in the dark, screaming with joy after 15 pitches of struggles. 

When we finished the rappels, we had a final night in our luxury hotel and went back to the base camp the following morning, with backs destroyed by the heavy sacks but hearts full of happiness and satisfaction. We called our route Messy Dreamers (500m, 7b). [The two women free climbed all but two pitches of Messy Dreamers during the first ascent; Nordic climbers Elias Annila and Misha Mishin repeated the route soon after and freed the eighth and 12th pitches at 7b and 7a, respectively.]

— Alessandra Prato, Italy


KILIAN JORNET ON THE CUTTING EDGE PODCAST

Born and raised in the heart of the Pyrenees, Kilian Jornet is the GOAT in mountain running and skimo, and he’s an accomplished climber too. This past summer, Jornet used his extraordinary fitness and deep reservoir of mountain savvy to tackle one of the greatest challenges of the Alps: a traverse of all 82 of the range’s 4,000-meter peaks, solely by foot and bike. The fastest previous time for this link-up was 60 days. Jornet did it in 19.

Cutting Edge host Jim Aikman interviewed Jornet about his “Alpine Connections” project—the preparation, the physiological and psychological challenges, and the real dangers of covering hundreds of kilometers of serious alpine terrain at speed, often alone. For context on the history of grand Alpine enchainments and commentary on Jornet’s latest feat, Jim spoke with Colin Haley, elite climber and Chamonix resident; Buzz Burrell, one of the originators of the Fastest Known Time (FKT) movement; and Dougald MacDonald, editor of the American Alpine Journal. Don’t miss it!


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].

CONNECT: The Next Generation of Crag Developers

The mentorship gap is a frequent topic of discussion in a lot of climbing circles, and the gap seems to be especially pronounced for climbers trying to get into crag and boulder development. In this episode, we dove into the joys of having too many mentors to count.


Long-time developer and AAC member Josh Pollock decided to collaborate with Jefferson County, in the Front Range of Colorado, to develop a beginner-friendly crag called the Narrow Gauge Slabs. For this project, sustainability and accessibility was a focus from the start, and Josh and other local developers designed a mentorship program that would coincide with developing the crag, to support climbers of traditionally marginalized backgrounds who want to equip themselves with knowledge and mentorship resources so that they could be developers and mentors in their own right. In this episode, we sat down with Lily Toyokura Hill and Ali Arfeen, two mentees in the program who have really taken this experience and run with it, stepping into leadership roles in the local climbing community. We cover what inspired them to become developers, perceptions of route development and who belongs, grading and individual bolting styles, and much more. The conversation with Lily, Ali, and Josh illuminates a lot about the power of mentorship and the complex considerations of developing in modern climbing.


The Prescription—Quickdraw Unclipped

Accessible, low-key, and enjoyable, Pilot Mountain State Park in North Carolina was the scene of a serious accident in March 2023. The mishap was a classic case of climbers doing all the right things yet still having an accident. Idawriter | Wiki Commons

Fall on Rock | Quickdraw Unclipped from Bolt Hanger

North Carolina, Pilot Mountain State Park

My climbing partner (31) and I, Alec Gilmore (29), went sport climbing at Pilot Mountain State Park in March 2023. I have ten years of climbing experience, and my partner has six, and we both take pride in our risk assessment and careful approach. The first route we planned to climb was occupied, so we found a nearby route that neither of us had previously tried. We incorrectly identified the route as a 5.7. The route was actually Goodness Gracious (5.10a). I quickly realized the route was harder, but I had previously led up to 5.11 here, so I went on and clipped three bolts and then hung to work out the crux. It involved throwing a high heel hook and manteling onto an awkward bulge.

This photo, taken immediately after Gilmore fell, shows the alpine quickdraw that came unclipped from a bolt hanger. Alec Gilmore 

I got partially over the bulge and needed to make one more move but couldn't find a good handhold. I ended up falling off. Instead of stopping, I hit the ground after falling 20 feet. Both feet landed on a flat rock step on the main hiking trail. My belayer took up enough slack so that the rope started to catch right as my feet hit. After lying on the ground, overcoming the initial shock and pain, I realized that the alpine quickdraw that I had clipped into the third bolt was still clipped to the rope. Somehow as I was wrestling with the move, it had come unclipped from the hanger. I was wearing a helmet, but fortunately I did not hit my head or back during the fall.

Park staffers were alerted by a nearby climber, and in about 30 to 45 minutes a team of park employees, other climbers, and volunteers arrived and loaded me onto a transport basket. For the next hour and a half, they carried me back up to the summit, where an ambulance was waiting. At one point they rigged a rope and hauled me up a steep hill to shorten the journey. At the hospital, X-rays showed I had fractured both heel bones. One of the fractures was bad enough to require surgery, and I received a plate and four screws.

ANALYSIS

The first mistake we made was not being sure of what route we were climbing. We had recently been trying routes we hadn't previously climbed. The route I fell from was on my to-do list, but the plan was to warm up with an easier route.

The second mistake was the positioning of the carabiner on the bolt hanger. I knew that it was possible for a carabiner to unclip from a bolt hanger if it's pulled up against the wall in a certain way. I try to keep the spine of the carabiner pointed in the direction I'm climbing. When I was clipping the third bolt, I thought I would climb toward the left side of the bulge. The line turned out to go right. Somehow, as I wrestled with the move, the quickdraw came unclipped.

It’s an unsettling thought, but carabiners can, on rare occasions, unclip from bolt hangers. When the bolt is clipped from right to left and the hanger angles down to the right, tension on the quickdraw can raise the carabiner and lever the gate open. Foster Denney 


Editor’s Note:  This is a classic case of fellow climbers doing all the right things yet still having an accident.

Though rare, carabiners can come unclipped from bolt hangers. A few things to consider: The hanger-clipping-end carabiner should be loose in the sling, never held by a rubber keeper. Both carabiners on a quickdraw should be oriented with the gates facing the same direction. As Alec mentions, quickdraws should be clipped so the gates are oriented away from the direction of travel. 

 The direction in which one clips also can be a factor in certain cases. Clipping the opposite direction from the angle of the carabiner hole will minimize the possibility of the carabiner levering against the hanger and unclipping. Almost all plate-style bolt hangers have the clipping section on the left side of the hanger. So, the ideal clipping direction would be from left to right. Other factors (like the ones mentioned above) may be more important in a given situation, but when you have a choice, this is the preferred method.

For even more security, a safer play is to flip the gate so it opens downwards. Better yet, if the clip is critical, e.g. before or after a runout, use a locking carabiner on the hanger end of the quickdraw.

 (Source: Alec Gilmore and the Editors.)


The Prescription—Video Series

Under some circumstances, quickdraws can unclip themselves. Pete Takeda, editor of Accidents in North American Climbing, and IFMGA/AMGA guide Jason Antin are back to show you that clipping bolts isn’t always as simple as it seems. Dive in to get the accident analysis informing these takeaways, and some quick tips on how to mitigate risk when clipping bolt hangers.

Credits:
Pete Takeda, Editor of Accidents in North American Climbing, and Jason Antin @jasonantin, IFMGA/AMGA Certified Mountain Guide; Producer: Shane Johnson; Cinematographer or Videographer: Foster Denney; Editor: Sierra McGivney; Location: Accessibility Crag, Clear Creek Canyon, CO; Presenting Sponsor: Rocky Talkie @rockytalkies.


Presented by:

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AAC's 2024 Impact Report

At the AAC, we believe in the power of climbing to change lives. We are driven by the potential to support every climber that we can, to use the AAC’s expertise and legacy to deliver resources that climbers can lean on—that’s why we are so proud of this Impact Report. Each grant recipient we inspired, each lodging guest we launched into adventure, each climber who has learned how to climb a little more safely, is what drives our work.

How does it all break down?

Here’s how we’ve met the needs of the AAC community this year.


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Feeling inspired? Support this work!

An Update on the AAC's Craggin' Classic Series and Hueco Rock Rodeo

PC: Hunter Johnson, @shinyshinysilver

The American Alpine Club will no longer host the Craggin’ Classic Series or the Hueco Rock Rodeo. We’re thrilled with the impact these events have had over the years and the ways they connected the climbing community. At the same time, we’re inspired by our new Strategic Plan and are confident that we are equipped to deliver even greater impact for climbers with this plan guiding the AAC’s activities for the next three years.

PC: Hunter Johnson

The AAC ran the Craggin’ Classic Series for 13 years, and we're proud of the positive impact those events had on climbers and communities over that time. Nina Williams, AAC Board President, first connected with the Club through the Craggin’ series, and she is not alone. It is certainly true the Craggin’s were a party with a heart, and they truly epitomized bringing the community together over a passion for climbing. Across the 13 years of this series, we estimate that we've served over 30,000 attendees and nearly 8,000 clinic participants. Those same participants have given back to the local crags that host these events with well over 10,000 stewardship hours.

Additionally, the AAC hosted the Hueco Rock Rodeo event for over a decade, and we're proud to have played a role in responsibly introducing thousands of climbers from around the globe to this amazing landscape and world-class bouldering destination. The Rodeo focused on encouraging climbers to challenge themselves through friendly competition while fostering a strong sense of community. It was also an important vehicle to introduce many climbers to the ethics of respecting a fragile landscape and the Indigenous communities that share this land. We’re excited to continue to be a conduit for responsible climbing in Hueco through our iconic lodging facility, the Hueco Rock Ranch. 

We look forward to continuing to serve our members, engage local communities, and celebrate climbing through both new and existing initiatives. Please visit this page to learn more about the recently adopted AAC Strategic Plan.



EDUCATE: The Forgotten Stonemaster

We are so excited to have longtime AAC member Rick Accomazzo on the podcast to chat about his new book “Tobin, the Stonemasters, and Me, 1970-1980.” This book is part memoir of Rick’s own early climbing career, part revealing biography of Tobin Sorenson, the forgotten Stonemaster who was an incredible all-arounder; and part a distillation of a decade of climbing culture. With these three threads, the book weaves together many untold climbing stories from an iconic, pivotal decade, from “before climbing lost its innocence,” as John Long says in his forward to the book. Listen to the episode to hear some key stories from the book and learn about the ten-year process of putting it together.

We’d also like to congratulate Rick for his book being longlisted for the Banff Mountain Literature Award! Dive into the episode to get your dose of forgotten climbing history. You can grab your own copy at stonemasterbooks.com


The Line: Exploring Africa’s Stunning Granite Domes

In AAJ 2024, we highlighted new climbs in Angola spearheaded by American climber Nathan Cahill, along with local developers—see Cahill’s story here. The pace of exploration on the beautiful rock of this southwest African country has not slowed. This past summer, a Spanish quintet visited the province of Cuanza Sul and climbed seven new routes on six different granite domes. Here is the story they‘ve prepared for the 2025 AAJ.

CONDA AREA, FIRST ASCENTS OF HUGE DOMES

Top: Climbing Bon Día Boa Noite on Hande. Establishing the 420-meter 7a was the highlight of the July 2024 trip, said Manu Ponce. Bottom: The topo for Bon Día Boa Noite. (Manu Ponce Collection)

During July 2024, our team of five Spaniards—Miguel A. Díaz, Alex Gonzalez, Indi Gutierrez, Jaume Peiró, and me, Manu Ponce—traveled to Angola in search of big walls. Having many options to explore, we decided to start in the Conda region of Cuanza Sul province, around eight hours south of Luanda, the capital. Once in Conda, we headed about ten kilometers south to the village of Cumbira Segundo.

We knew from past reports that we would find big walls, but the reality far exceeded what we imagined. Amid the lush jungles surrounding the small village of Cumbira Segundo were enormous granite domes, between 200 and 400 meters tall. Some of these had been climbed before, but many had not.

In this type of adventure, the easiest aspect is often the climbing itself, and this was true here, as the dense vegetation full of wild animals—many of them very poisonous—required us to open paths to the walls with extreme care. Taking turns, we chopped through the jungle with machetes meter by meter until we reached our starting points.

Once on the wall, we were in our element, though temperatures were scorching: between 20°C and 25°C, with almost 100 percent humidity. These were truly tropical conditions. We tried to choose walls in the shade, although this wasn’t always possible.

We climbed everything ground-up, using bolts as sparingly as possible, though some of the walls had very little opportunity for removable protection. Most of our routes involved technical slab climbing, with few cracks, poor handholds, and friction-dependent footwork. This meant that, at the end of the day, you would end up with your head mentally fried.

We had several wild moments during the expedition: falls of more than ten meters with a drill included, scorpions as big as your hand defending their nest as you climbed, and running into black mambas on the nightly return to camp. Despite this, if asked if we would return, we would all answer without hesitation: Sim, claro!

In total, we opened seven routes on six different peaks, two of which had never been summited before. This totaled around 2,000 meters of climbing, all of which made us sweat meter by meter. The seven routes were: 

●      Bon Día Boa Noite (420m climbing distance, 7a) on Hande.

●      Peluchitos (380m, 7b) on Hande.

●      Vuelta al Armario por Festivos (350m, 6b+) on Cunduvile.

Top, from left to right: Indi Gutierrez, Chilean Lucho Birkner of Climbing for a Reason, Manu Ponce, and Miguel A. Díaz on the summit after the first ascent of Leca via Raices (200m, 6c). The dome Hande rises behind. Bottom: The topo for Raices. (Manu Ponce Collection)

●      Quero verte Vocé (100m, 6a+) on Wende, first ascent of the formation.

●      Raices (200m, 6c) on Leca, first ascent of the formation.

●      Os Mulatos (130m, 6c+), the first climbing route on Cawanji. The formation can be ascended by hiking via another route.

●      Fumaca Densa (115m, 7b) on Nhenje.

We received much valuable help from Nathan Cahill of  Climb Angola, and Lucho Birkner and Javiera Ayala from the nonprofit Climbing for a Reason. The local community, specifically all the children with which the latter organization works, helped us from the moment we got up each day until we returned in the evening through the dense vegetation. A very humble community opened its arms to us without asking for anything in return.

A group of women from Cumbira Segundo. The Angolan village is surrounded by many large granite domes. (Manu Ponce Collection)

We are particularly grateful for the work Climbing for a Reason is doing in this place. It has given life and a lot of hope to a large part of the town’s population: the children. Due to the incredible climbing and potential for route development, we are sure this place soon will be visited by people from all over the world. Climbing for a Reason is helping prepare and teach the inhabitants what can be done in their “garden.”

In all, we are very happy with what we have achieved, and more importantly with the experience we had with the people of Cumbira Segundo. Our weeks were full of learning, and we came to feel comfortable in a wild terrain full of surprises.

Manu Ponce, Spain


CUTTING EDGE PODCAST: NEW HOST, MORE VOICES

The Cutting Edge podcast returns for its seventh season this week, with a new host and deeper dives into first ascents and iconic climbing locations around the world. Hosting the show is filmmaker and podcaster Jim Aikman, creator of the AAC’s “Legacy Series,” featuring interviews with climbing legends from the Club’s deep vault of oral history.

As it has for the past six years, the podcast will continue to center on a recent cutting-edge ascent. Each month, Jim also will explore the climbing history and significance of the peak or range we’re visiting, drawing on the expertise of the American Alpine Journal team, as well as other climbers past and present.

Up first: Mt. Dickey in Alaska’s Great Gorge of the Ruth Glacier. British climber Tom Livingstone talks about his brand-new route up the south face, and you’ll also hear from AAJ Editor Dougald MacDonald, Ruth Gorge climber and filmmaker Freddie Wilkinson, and an archival interview from the late David Roberts, who was first to climb Dickey’s mile-high walls, half a century ago.

We asked Jim Aikman for a few thoughts on taking over as host of the podcast:

1. What’s your number one goal in taking the reins of The Cutting Edge?

Well, this is a beloved show with a great following, so the first goal is to continue delivering for the core audience. Beyond that, I'll be bringing a documentary style to the storytelling, where interviews still drive the show but I'll dig more into the history and larger context through research, voiceover, thematic richness, and more expert voices. The ultimate goal is to create a compelling narrative that explores the depth and meaning of a new climb, its setting, history—and what it adds to the limitless evolution of the sport.

2. Why should the average climber care about cutting-edge climbs?

I think this gets to the essence of climbing and what makes it interesting to me as a storyteller. Climbing is still so new, and it really shines on the extreme end of the learning curve. Startling stuff is happening all the time, and will continue to, because we are still exploring what we're capable of as a species interacting with the natural world. That comes through better training practices, technical innovation, and sheer boldness, playing out in venues with the highest stakes, yet with perhaps intangible rewards. I’ve heard answers to the question “why climb?” from many of climbing's greatest luminaries, and the answers are as philosophical as they are bewildering, and that just draws me in. Obviously I'm not alone in that, as we've watched climbing stories and figures finally break into the mainstream in recent years.

3. You obviously love climbing history. What draws you to the stories and people from climbing’s past?

I’ve been telling climbing stories since 2007, starting with Sender Films and the Reel Rock crew, followed by 15 years of short and feature-length documentaries on the sport. Then there’s the VIP interview series, which I've been capturing for the AAC with Jim McCarthy and Tom Hornbein (who we lost last year, RIP) since 2012. We have more than 75 interviews telling the oral history of American climbing, and we're still going strong. I think history is fascinating in general, but climbing is just this incredible spectrum of personalities and motivations, all playing out in the last couple of generations. I mean, how crazy is it that Americans reached the highest point on Earth only six years before we put people on the moon? And now we have this progression of strength and technique that makes the sport incredible to track as a purely athletic pursuit. I'm a fan of other sports as well, but there's really nothing like climbing. 


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: Cams and Magical Thinking—October 2024

Cams might not be as bomber as you think. We are stoked to kick off our Prescription video series by unpacking some magical thinking around cams. This video series will give you greater detail and visual insight into the accidents analyzed in our monthly Prescription newsletters. Featuring Accidents in North American Climbing Editor Pete Takeda, and IFMGA/AMGA Mountain Guide Jason Antin, these bite-sized lessons will get you thinking about how this accident analysis applies to you and your climbing.

For Rocktober we have two accidents that represent a larger trend we noticed in 2023. This trend involves: 1) Placing an inadequate number of protection pieces and 2) Poorly placed camming protection.

Lead Fall on Rock | Cam Pulled Out

Smith Rock State Park, Morning Glory Wall

The crux section of Lion’s Chair Start (5.10c/d R) at Smith Rock. The larger red circle marks the bolt that Genereux was attempting to clip, prior to falling to the ground. The smaller red circle marks the location of the 0.4 cam that pulled out when he fell. Photo: Garrett Genereux.

Garrett Genereux submitted the following report to ANAC:

At the end of a great day of climbing on May 15, my partner Lance (30) and I, Garrett Genereux (34), decided to do one last route on our way out of the main area. We stopped at Lion’s Chair Start (5.10c/d R). As usual, no one was on it despite the routes on both sides being busy. I had been on the route several times before.

I didn't realize how tired I was until on the route. I was trying to conserve energy by not placing too much pro. I was about one body length above my first two pieces of gear and placed a 0.4 cam. My belayer asked if it was a good placement. I assured him that it was fine and kept moving. As I approached the first bolt, where the crack pinches down, I became very fatigued and started getting scared. I wanted to clip the bolt as fast as I could. I was able to hang the draw at my farthest reach. Then I pulled up rope to make the clip. As I inched the rope closer to the lower carabiner, my left foot greased off and I fell.

There was a ton of rope in the system, and when I heard the 0.4 plink out of the crack, I knew I was going to the ground. My left foot briefly hit and then I landed on my butt. I lost my breath and made some guttural noises trying to get it back. I lay supine. My ankle hurt and my lower back was pretty tight, but I had full sensation and movement below. I even remember feeling like I needed to pee while lying there and took that as a good sign.

The folks nearby were able to clean up the lower pieces and someone with the longest stick clip I've ever seen, snagged the draw off the bolt. Someone let me borrow their camp chair. I was able to slip off my climbing shoes. My left ankle was dark in color and already beginning to swell, but I could bear weight and felt that we didn’t need a crew to carry me out.

My partner carried the gear and I used my stick clip as a walking stick as we hiked to the road. My ankle was just a soft-tissue injury, and my back had compression fractures at T12, L1, and L2. Two months later, I was back climbing and feeling well. Since then I have even gotten back on the same route. I sewed it up with 11 pieces rather than three.

ANALYSIS

Simply put, I did not place enough protection. In the first 15 feet, I only placed three pieces: a nut and a cam protecting the start and then the 0.4 cam that pulled. Also, I could have climbed a bit higher to a better hold and clipped the bolt with the same amount of rope in the system as I had when I fell. I also should have checked in with myself mentally and physically. While it is not the most difficult route, it does take focus and it gets an R rating in the newest guide. (Source: Garrett Genereux.)


Leader Fall on Rock | Protection Pulled Out

Lander, Sinks Canyon, Sandstone Buttress

Gunky (5.8) is a popular route in Sinks Canyon that protects well with hexes and nuts. Familiarity with passive gear and more cam-placing skills might have helped prevent an accident that occurred in July 2023. The high X marks where Taylor fell, and the low X marks where he landed. Photo: Joe M.

On the morning of July 10, Mac Taylor (25) fell on the first pitch of Gunky (2 pitches, 5.8). He wrote the following account for ANAC:

“Two friends and I hiked to the base of Gunky (5.8) at the Sandstone Buttress. I was new to the area. We hiked with gear on our harnesses while carrying ropes and a bag with water and extra gear. I decided to lead the first pitch, despite being told that there was a scary roof section. Part of the reason I chose to lead it was that I already had most of the gear racked on my harness. On the route, I placed a large nut and a number 1 Camalot. I then clipped a bolt and placed a 0.75 Camalot in a shallow slot deep in the crack that I was climbing. 

“Halfway up the pitch, I rested and placed a number 2 Camalot deep in an offwidth-sized crack. I laybacked the crack and got established below the roof. From there, I struggled to find comfortable holds. I was about 10 feet above my last piece.

“I decided to backtrack. My belayer was pulling in slack while I downclimbed. About five feet above my last piece, I fell. My hands slipped first, and my feet were still on the wall. I flipped upside down and pulled two pieces. The number 2 was a good placement, but it was placed straight in the crack, not oriented in the direction of the fall. It levered out and tweaked the cam lobes. The 0.75 just pulled out. I was caught by the bolt after falling 30 feet. My belayer was yanked up then dropped back to the ground as the last piece pulled. This resulted in bruising on their elbows and lower back. I split my lip, sprained my ankle, and cut up my left forearm, with heavy bruising on the right side of my abdomen from my harness.  

“I had stopped right before hitting a ledge. I was lowered to our belay stance, a very large ledge above a slabby wall. My belayer ran down to the car to grab my first-aid kit while I lay on the ground. In the parking lot was an AMGA guide who was also a Wilderness Emergency Medical Technician (WEMT). Rather than navigate the entire approach, the guide lowered me down the slabby wall. I walked out with the help of my friends, and we went to the emergency room. I was given a stirrup and crutches for my ankle, and I got stitches in my lip. I had no internal injuries.”

ANALYSIS

Taylor wrote, “I think the two biggest factors were my overconfidence and my poor gear placements. I had been warned the route had a scary section, and it was the hardest trad climb I would have done up to that time. I definitely should have let a friend lead this pitch while I took the second, less scary pitch. I also really thought I had placed some good pieces on the climb. I should go back and practice my placements more and get some critical feedback from someone more experienced.” (Source: Mac Taylor.)


Editor’s Note: Cams vs. Nuts

In the 2024 ANAC, there were 13 accidents caused or aggravated by pulled protection. All of them involved a failed cam placement. Whether placed by a novice or professional climber, none of the pulled protection was a nut, hex, or other passive gear.

In my own climbing career, I’ve been as guilty as anyone when it came to magical thinking around cams. When I got my hands on a set of rigid Friends (the first commercially viable spring-loaded camming devices) they were like fast food—quick and convenient. The subconscious belief was that devices of such expense and complexity must have had hidden powers. In some cases, cams outperformed our expectations. But we were to discover that also like fast food, cams came with hidden health risks. I’d often find myself placing a marginal cam, even when there was an obvious and solid nut placement staring me in the face. On several occasions, a poorly runnered cam fell out below my feet, creating a unexpected runout. Another time while I belayed, my partner fell, snapping the shaft of a poorly placed Friend. After these incidents I embarked on a trad curriculum that saw me using only passive gear for a good part of an entire season.

While not as sexy as a rack of the latest cams, a set of hexes, nuts, and Tricams provides light, simple, and intuitive protection. Though cams are often “easier” to place and frequently cover a wide size range, they are also intricate and fussy gadgets that require advanced skill to properly set and assess. As Taylor notes above, simply not orienting the stem in the direction of loading can cause an otherwise good placement to lever out. It is good to remember that although cams will sometimes hold in flares, soft rock, choss, and in shallow placements, sometimes they don’t. And due to a multitude of unseen factors inherent to their mechanism of action, cams can even fail in perfect looking placements.

—Pete Takeda, ANAC Editor


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AAC's Strategic Plan—2025-2027

Photo by AAC member Jeremiah Watt

What follows is the AAC’s Strategic Plan leading up to the organization’s 125th anniversary. Our plan is rooted in our core belief that climbing can change lives and ignite a passion and sense of meaning within its practitioners. With the power of climbing in mind, we are dedicated to facilitating this passion and supporting climbers as they seek their most fulfilling relationship with climbing.

Vision

A community of thriving climbers.

Mission

Provide climbers with resources that advance knowledge, inspiration, and advocacy.

Values

• Adventure

• Inspiration

• Curiosity

• Inclusion

• Commitment


Photo by AAC member Kylie Fly

Pillars

Empower Members

The AAC is committed to providing the tools, resources, and support necessary for climbers to thrive and excel in their pursuits. At each opportunity that we engage with our members, we’ll create a culture of empowerment for climbers of all backgrounds and skill levels to live their dreams.

Inspire Through Storytelling

The AAC has a powerful history of inspiring and uniting climbers through storytelling. We

will deepen our investment in these stories that evoke emotions, spark curiosity, and fuel imagination, encouraging climbers to pursue dreams, push limits, and connect with the natural world.

Advocate for Our Members and the Places We Climb

The AAC is committed to conserving climbing areas, mitigating impacts on nature, and advocating for members’ rights. Through advocacy, policy, and partnerships, we will continue to activate our members to protect the places they climb.


Photo by AAC member Calder Davey

Strategic Priorities

Enhance Member Experience

We prioritize personalized interactions and know that top-tier benefits are key to enhancing member satisfaction and loyalty. We will go beyond transactions, striving to build lasting connections by addressing members’ holistic needs.

Prioritize Collaboration and Partnerships

The AAC recognizes the power of collective action in protecting climbers and their cherished climbing destinations and will focus on seeking collaborative partnerships and promoting cross-sector collaboration.

Focus on Organizational Sustainability

We will align our efforts with key strategies that drive growth, ensure stability, and foster sustainability. Our focus areas include: developing skilled and engaged staff, ensuring long-term financial stability, modernizing infrastructure, enhancing risk management and compliance, and increasing environmental sustainability.

Increase Brand Clarity and Visibility

The AAC will sharpen its brand and expand its national reach to stand out within the outdoor community. This effort aims to increase AAC’s visibility and connect better with climbers nationwide.

“This Must Be The Place…”: A Story from the Gunks

May Perez Climbing Arrow (5.8). Photo by Eric Ratkowski. 

By Marian (May) Perez

A place I look forward to getting to, another place I call home. I sometimes drive through local roads outside of New Paltz, most of the time I drive up the thruway from New Jersey to go upstate. Jamming to my favorite tunes on repeat with joy or crying my heartache away from emotional pains. Once I see the stretch of windy road on Rt 299, passing by the farms and artwork, the interesting sculpture at the four way stop that not only indicates I’m getting closer, but also prompts the first appearance of the massive being known as the Shawangunks. I pass through the AAC campground to reminisce and surprise my close friends, a safe place for me to exist. A place where I’ve lived in my car and woke up next to the being called the West Trapps. A place where you look into the distance and see tiny dots of color climbing up the wall like ants making their way with their daily discoveries. A place where if you listen deep enough, you can hear the echoes of folks letting their partners know “Off belay!”

At the sight of apple trees and the random billboard, my body wakes up. I know what I’m about to see and I know where I’m about to go. This must be the place, exit 18 to New Paltz, NY, home of the Shawangunk Mountains and home to me, where I want to be.

I drive through town with my windows down, taking in all the quirky things that make this place special. Making stops at my favorite gear shop, Rock and Snow, and grabbing the best coffee and tea in town at The Ridge Tea and Spice. I say hi to all my friends, grounding myself after a long drive and filling my heart cup knowing people care about me.

Vanessa and Hannah on Cascading Crystal Kaleidoscope (CCK) (5.8 PG13). Photo by May Perez.

I look up to spot the Dangler Roof. Close my eyes and daydream about sitting on the GT Ledge on Three Pines or Something Interesting, looking out in the valley trying to find the campground and all the land surrounding it, thinking about how small we humans actually are. We might not have the biggest mountains, but the feeling is the same I’ve had looking out into Yosemite Valley. The beauty of being surrounded by so much, and still so much to see. Or the privilege to be on a 9,000 ft long cliff in the middle of the day.

I open my eyes to find myself on the GT Ledge, realizing I’ve been present the whole time. It’s sunset and there’s still so much light on the cliff, except the darkness that hides in the trees below me. It might seem like we’ve been benighted, but the quartz conglomerate glows for us a bit longer to finish up Crystal Cascading Kaleidoscope (CCK) 5.7+, one of the wildest traverses of the grade. I follow my leader after they send and get ready to tip toe my way over to the big flake, trusting the polished feet and jamming my way up the #1 hand crack, up further to the crimpy ledge, back over to my partner, stoked to see me pull the last moves over the top of the cliff. We enjoy the last bit of light and share gratitude to the day and how we overcame what was presented to us, wild adventure no more than 400 ft below us. 

This must be the place, the place I like to call home, where I want to be. 


It’s not too late! Experience epic fall climbing at the Gunks and book your stay at the Gunks Campground in Gardiner, New York until November 10.

CLIMB: Undercover Crusher Connie Shang

On this episode of the Undercover Crusher series, we have Connie Shang on the podcast to talk about her recent send of Spyfiction, a 5.14c in Mt. Charleston, Nevada. We discuss her projecting process, how she’s leveled up over the years, how she got so strong without training, what counts as a crusher in today’s climbing world and especially for women’s climbing, and plateaus on the moonboard. She also talks about her unique perspective on climbing-work balance, that perhaps more of us should consider utilizing! Love to hear about hard climbing, but want to hear from someone who’s a little more relatable than the pros? The Undercover Crushers series is here for your inspiration! Dive in!


A Tribute to Michael Gardner

Michael Gardner astride the Infinite Spur on Sultana (Mt. Foraker) during a climb-and-ski adventure. Photo by Sam Hennessey. Originally published in AAJ 2022.

Michael Gardner 

1991-2024

We are deeply saddened by the death of Michael Gardner: a great alpinist and a vibrant life. 

Michael was on an expedition funded by the AAC’s Cutting Edge Grant, attempting the unclimbed north face of Jannu East in Nepal with his long time climbing partner Sam Hennessey, when he fell to his death on October 7th, 2024. We are grateful that Hennessey is safe after the incident. 

There have been so many tributes to Mike in the last few days that attest to his incredible empathy, enthusiasm, dedication to the craft of climbing, pure motivations and lack of ego. Indeed, his quiet pursuit of the mountains on his own terms means his legacy is not flashy, but found in traces and in the background—he was climbing and skiing for the sake of the craft, not for recognition. Yet he was repeatedly the preferred partner for Cutting Edge Grant recipients like Hennessey, and his name appeared again and again in the American Alpine Journal over the last few years, for his new routes, fast ascents of iconic faces, and creative ski alpinism.

Rather than listing his great ascents here, and reducing him to a list of accomplishments, we encourage all who knew him, all who were inspired by him, to dive into the AAJ stories that feature him—as a way to walk, for a brief moment, alongside him in the memories of some of his greatest life experiences in the mountains. The mountains called him back again and again, whether it was to put up a new rock route on Mt. Owens, Renny Take the Wheel (1,500’, 8 pitches, IV 5.11), or envision the first ascent of Hot Cars and Fast Women (850m, M6+) with Hennessey on Denali’s Ridge of No Return. Mike and Sam were also simply fast. Their second ascent of Light Traveler (M7) on the southwest face of Denali in 2018 was not only the fastest for this route at the time, but for any of the four routes generally considered to be most difficult on Denali’s south and southwest faces: the Denali Diamond, McCartney-Roberts, Light Traveler, and Slovak Direct. In 2022, they upped the ante when they joined up with Rob Smith to climb the Slovak Direct in 17 hours and 10 min. In next year’s 2025 AAJ, his more recent mountain adventures will live on, testifying to the kind of life he shaped for himself, including a new route on Mt. Hunter, a massive ski link-up in the Tetons, and a new route on the Grand Teton. 

Reading through these stories, you can see the creativity and quiet passion he brought to his climbing, and to his life. 

Describing his conflicted relationship to the mountains in an article for Alpinist in 2022, Mike writes how, when he climbs: “An indescribable awareness of place and peace takes hold. On the other hand, there are consequences to devoting yourself to the mountains. I know them intimately, and yet year after year, death after death, I continue to climb.”

We can’t know if Mike would have thought it was all worth it. All we can do is honor the incredible void his death has left behind. 

Our thoughts are with Michael’s family and climbing partners. 


Learning The Power of Low Expectations On A Rumney Classic

Route Profile: Stoned Temple Pilot, 5.12a, Rumney

By: Ryan DeLena

Stoned Temple Pilot (5.12a) at Prudential, Rumney, NH. Photo by AAC Lodging Director Allyssa Burnley.

It’s hard to find a route quite like Stoned Temple Pilot: a steep, beta intensive masterpiece hidden in Rumney’s Northwest Crags. And appropriately, it's hard to get people to want to walk to The Prudential crag. Most climbers flock to more classic crags, such as Main Cliff, Waimea, and Bonsai. However, if you can talk someone into trekking out there, you’ll most certainly secure a projecting buddy once they experience the epic kneebars, throws, and intricate boulder problems. 

I’ve always described the Rumney scene as a culture of beta. Often regarded as one of the most cryptic major sport climbing destinations, Rumney routes are rarely sent on raw power alone. Most climbs can feel a full grade harder until you know the trick to climbing them. The result is a really supportive projecting culture. Once you send, you become part of the crew that can now pass the beta down to the next inquiring aspirant. 

Before Stoned Temple Pilot, I was more of a trad climber. I was accustomed to the practice of climbing lots of different routes, and very slowly pushing my limit. Conversely, most people I met hanging out at Rumney had longer term projects they came back to every session. 

I first climbed Stoned Temple Pilot while project shopping for my first 5.12a. I was getting to that phase many of us enter in climbing, when the 5.11s start going faster than before and your friends encourage you to get on 12s. I’ve never considered myself much of a grade chaser, but 12a always represented a blockade for me. For years the idea that my body would be capable of that level of climbing seemed outlandish. Finally in spring of 2022, I decided it was time to find a route that inspired me and throw myself at it like never before. I tried a few different classic 12as, but Stoned was the one that captured my imagination.

Oh My Finish (5.11b/c) at Orange Crush, Rumney, NH. Photo by AAC Lodging Director Allyssa Burnley.

The route begins with a jug haul through spongy rock, culminating with a double knee bar rest at a monumental hueco. Next comes a bulge, nothing too bouldery, but it saps your energy before the crux. A bad crimp allows you to set your feet and throw. If not for a common tick mark, you might assume you need to make a desperate upward stab into the fat undercling, which is certainly big enough to distract you from the key crimp right above the lip. One more committing move gets you to a sneaky corner rest. If not for meeting a local who showed me this rest, I might’ve abandoned this project a long time ago. As you exit the corner, all the holds seem to face weird directions, but some knee bar wizardry lets you cross to a jug otherwise just out of reach. Made it this far? It’s in the bag. 

As I started projecting Stoned Temple Pilot, I didn’t feel like things were going swimmingly whatsoever. On my first burn I did all the moves, then proceeded to never be able to do the top sequence again. I expected to climb the route better with each attempt, but each burn slowly whittled away my faith.

Optimism is something I struggled with a lot my whole life, and climbing forced that reality closer and closer to the surface. Finally I had to acknowledge that somewhere deep down, no matter what I accomplished, I still didn’t believe in myself. Coming back to this route multiple times, somehow getting worse with each burn, was easy evidence to justify the pessimism in my brain. 

Two things haunted me. The first: every time I tried to clip from the undercling, I struggled to reach it and pumped out. The second: ever since my project shopping burn, I had not been to the top of the route. Each time I reached the top crux, even after resting in the corner, I failed to recollect how I had climbed it on my first attempt. I would try different sequences that left me hanging on the permadraw over and over, until finally opting to lower. Good links aside, how was I supposed to bring optimism to this route, if I couldn’t clip the crux draw, or even top it out?

One day in June 2022, I discovered the complex relationship between embracing optimism, and letting go of expectations. My friend Mike, and Allyssa, who I had met that morning, walked up to Prudential Wall with me. I had very low expectations. I already had aided my way through a bouldery 11c and my forearms felt fried. The previous day I tried Stoned multiple times and got shut down at the clip in the big undercling. I’d been trying to reach above my head to fear-clip it, ultimately pumping out. 

Swedish Girls (5.10d) at Prudential Rumney, NH. Photo by AAC Lodging Director Allyssa Burnley.

As I pulled onto the wall this time, I already planned on falling. I looked down at Mike after the first clip and said, “Man, I wish I was climbing something that used different muscles than yesterday.” Despite the bad attitude, I continued climbing. I entered the double kneebar, this time getting my right hip into the pod and settling into the fetal position, then closing my eyes. This brought a deep sense of calm. I launched into the boulder problem, and stood up into the undercling. Knowing this was where I always fall, I thought to myself, “If I’m going to fall anyway, I should just go for the jug and take the mega whip.” To my surprise, I not only stuck the throw, but had a lot of energy left in my forearms to continue. By simply committing and waist clipping, rather than trying hopelessly to clip above my head from a power-sapping undercling, I completely changed the nature of the route.

I pulled up into the corner rest and stayed there for a long while. I still had not been to the top of the route since the first time I got on it. 

I tried to relax every muscle in my body other than my left leg, which held me firmly in the corner. Now with some skin in the game, and determined to send, I launched into the top crux. Completely tunneling into the unknown, I tried something I had not done before. I switched my right knee bar on a sharp horn with a left knee bar, getting my right foot on a seemingly unlikely chip, which gave me just enough height to cross to the big hold. 

My heart beating fast now, I clipped the last bolt, and pulled through the final moves audibly in disbelief.. I screamed with joy. Through the sneaky art of low expectations, I had proved my potential to myself. Climbing some elusive grade wasn’t about having Herculean strength, it was about mastering the sequence. 

I’ve since sent a number of 5.12s, and all of them started like Stoned Temple Pilot. They felt so unbelievably impossible, until one day they didn’t. I’d come back fresh, with refined beta, and flow through the sequence like butter, because knowing the way is far more efficient than trying to muscle through.

Black Mamba (5.11c) at Orange Crush, Rumney, NH. Photo by AAC Lodging Director Allyssa Burnley. 

Though my brain is awfully resistant to change, going through this projecting process a number of times now has helped me embrace optimism more in my life. It reminds me that the whole idea of optimism is believing what’s coming will be better, despite not having the evidence to prove it. If you have proof, you don’t actually need to believe in anything. The projecting process reminds me that things can still go my way, even if it feels like that’s impossible, and the act of believing is often the first step in changing impossible to possible.


Inspired to project a Rumney classic? Book your stay at the Rumney Rattlesnake campground today!

A Long and Winding Road: An Update on the EXPLORE Recreation Package

PC: Andrew Burr

By: Byron Harvison, AAC General Counsel and Advocacy Director

First ascents are usually full of surprises. That’s why we love doing them. It takes every bit of your skill and experience to navigate all the known and unknown challenges the route throws at you. Like a FA, the first-of-its-kind EXPLORE Act Recreation Package is presenting challenges and proving there is more work to put in.  

You may recall that the EXPLORE Act (Expanding Public Lands Outdoor Recreation Experiences) was unanimously passed in the House last April after being introduced by Representative Westerman (R-AR) and Representative Grijalva (D-AZ).  It contains several pieces of legislation deeply impacting recreation. The Simplifying Outdoor Access for Recreation Act (SOAR) has been a priority for the AAC and partner organizations such as the AMGA, Outdoor Alliance, and The Mountaineers for 10 years. It updates and streamlines recreational permitting for guides, making the outdoors more accessible.

EXPLORE also includes the Protecting America’s Rock Climbing Act (PARC), which the AAC and Access Fund have collaborated on extensively, that will help safeguard the historic use and maintenance of fixed anchors in Wilderness, and reaffirms the appropriateness of climbing on public lands.

Other elements in the package include the BOLT Act, making FICOR (the Federal Interagency Council on Outdoor Recreation) permanent as well as the Outdoor Recreation Legacy Partnership, Recreation Not Red Tape, and several pieces of legislation impacting outdoor infrastructure.  

During our most recent visit to DC in September, in conjunction with the celebration of Outdoor Alliance’s 10th Anniversary, we teamed up to urge Senators to find floor time to pass EXPLORE as a stand alone bill or to attach it to must-pass legislation such as the National Defense Authorization Act (NDAA). Unfortunately, EXPLORE did not make it into the NDAA’s Manager’s Amendment, which exhausts that route for passage.  

Congress has been preoccupied with funding the federal government, resulting in a (now typical) Continuing Resolution to fund the government at the current levels until December 20th. Given the dynamics of it being an election year and certain change of leadership, and the impacts of a lame duck session, it is quite difficult to predict exactly how EXPLORE may be able to pass this Congress.

One potential scenario is that it may be grouped in with a larger year-end lands package, which can be a good thing, but could be complicated given the varied political motivations of legislators post-election. With the strong bipartisan and bicameral support of EXPLORE we are hopeful that we can find a path to secure the passage of the recreation package this Congress regardless of the outcome of the election. 

One thing is for sure, there are no guarantees. Just as the summit is never guaranteed in climbing, no piece of legislation is a sure thing. We will continue to push forward and put the work in, one foot after another, and see it through.


Commit To Vote. Learn More Below.



CONNECT: Undercover Crusher Nathan Hadley

On this edition of the Undercover Crusher series, we have Rab athlete Nathan Hadley on the pod. We talk about what counts as “undercover,” and the reality of straddling the world of full-time work while being “pro.” We discuss the pressure to be obsessed with Yosemite, and maybe figuring out that performing in Yosemite is not the only place to make a name for yourself…as well as bolting and development ethics in Washington, sending the Canadian Trilogy, and the downsides and upsides of being a route setter. 

Jump into this episode to hear all this and more from crusher Nathan Hadley! 



CONNECT: Summiting Denali, Living the Dream

In this episode, we had Live Your Dream grant recipient John Thompson on the pod to tell us all about his trip to Denali! Our Live Your Dream grant is our most popular grant, and it’s powered by The North Face.

John’s LYD story is about feeling a sense of urgency–how now is the time to explore and pursue big adventures. A strong sense of carpe diem. After nearly a decade away from Denali, John returned, only to get caught up in helping with a rescue, and not getting to pursue his goal route because of weather conditions. We sat down with John to hear about his grant experience, the rescue he helped with, his journey falling away from climbing and coming back to it, how guiding shaped his climbing, and why it meant so much to be standing on the top of Denali once again.