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K2 1938: The First American Karakoram Expedition

grants

Crag Development During Deployment: A Story from the Live Your Dream Grant

PC: Joseph Stuart

Joseph Stuart received a 2023 Live Your Dream grant from the American Alpine Club to help start a mountaineering club and develop a crag while deployed in Iraq.

*This article was originally published in the Blah, Blah, Black Sheep newsletter and is lightly edited for clarity.

How have the 250th FRSD (Forward Resuscitative Surgical Detachment), who call themselves the "Blacksheep," been spending their downtime in Iraq, you might ask? We started a mountaineering club! It all began when our fearless orthopedic surgeon and climbing extraordinaire, MAJ Griff Biedron, discovered a uniquely shaped rock crag formation about two miles away from our living quarters. It's located in an infrequently trafficked corner of the base, just off the road. The rock face is about 90 feet wide and 25 feet tall, with steep overhanging sections. The crag is sandwiched between sloping hills, so it is easy to hike or scramble to the top if approaching from the side. On top of the ridge, MAJ Biedron discovered some massive boulders and imagined the mountaineering possibilities. He quickly requested that his family back home ship his modest collection of climbing gear including climbing shoes, ropes, carabiners, and harnesses. When the gear arrived, MAJ Biedron started training his teammates to climb cracks between T-walls to familiarize themselves with the equipment and belay techniques. 

Pc: Joseph Stuart

The Club was officially founded when MAJ Biedron and co-founders CPT Armstrong (veterinarian), SGT Johnson (medic), and 1LT McCarthy (ER nurse) returned to the crag for their first outing. SGT Stewart (preventive medicine tech) joined shortly after and became the Club's deputy. We anchored ratchet straps around boulders at the top of the ridge to serve as a static rope. Then, we harnessed up and sunk our full body weight into the rope to test the holding capacity of the boulders, and the static line was solid to a fault. Next, we tested the hand/footholds on the rock face and discovered that "rock" is a generous way to describe this formation—maybe siltstone is more accurate, like a ragged chunk of sedimentary silt and clay. Many seemingly solid holds broke right off in our hands. Climbers who wore T-shirts or shorts quickly regretted their attire as the jagged surface repeatedly abraded their exposed skin. Nonetheless, the climbers put up several routes on their first excursion and were motivated to keep climbing!  

During the early days of the AAAB Mountaineering Club, the crag was laden with trash and debris. We made quick haste of the mess by organizing a work party. In one day, our crew picked up 50 pounds of trash. Since then, we have made numerous improvements to the site. We carved out a trail leading from the base of the crag to the top of the ridge and installed some flat rocks as steps. We dug a fire pit and lined it artfully with rocks. We positioned larger boulders around the fire pit for resting and spectating. We installed several bolts in the rock to practice lead climbing. We scrupulously cleaned and dusted the rock face so climbers don't get peppered with dirt as they ascend. 

We have since dubbed the rock "Canine Crag" because the area is close to a dog den, and we often see Iraqi dogs passing by, traveling in packs of six. In addition to naming the crag, we have also named all eight of our routes. In the tradition of mountaineering, the person who is the first to "on-site," the route gets to name it. The names and naming members are as follows: 

PC: Joseph Stuart

Pelvic Binder - Karen McGrane 

Northeast Face - Griff Biedron 

Bridget Midget - Ryan Johnson 

Dog Leg - Gordon Armstrong 

Bird Sh## Traverse - Joseph Stewart 

Allagash White - Brandon Barnes 

GH - Griff Biedron  

Rabid Otter Ridge - Karen McGrane 

Our club quickly gained popularity through word of mouth and a flyer posted at the gym. Now, our club has garnered a base-wide following! Member participation ebbs and flows, but right now, we have 27 members in the active club and 23 members in our fan club. In addition to climbing on the weekends, we host weekly movie nights on Fridays, where we watch a climbing movie. So far, we have watched Free Solo, The Alpinist, Touching the Void, and The Dawn Wall, among others. We have many goals to keep growing and improving! 

We received the American Alpine Club Live Your Dream Grant. With this grant funding, we hope to purchase more equipment to develop sport lead climbing and install better top roping anchors. We hope to provide a safe and supportive environment for other soldiers to learn the art of climbing and route establishment.

 An Excerpt From a Subsequent Newsletter That Provides a Further Update on this Club's Climbing Activities: 

PC: Joseph Stuart

The AAAB Mountaineering Club has grown in terms of membership and scope of activities. Currently, there are 51 members in the active club and 28 members in the fan club. We advanced from climbing the siltstone rock formation we call "Canine Crag" to climbing a vertical sedimental wall with ice axes. This crazy idea was the brainchild of MAJ Biedron, an avid ice climber, who figured he could keep his ice-climbing skills sharp by training on the tall sediment walls in Iraq. 

Unfortunately, MAJ Biedron already departed Iraq by this time, but MAJ Armstrong and SGT Neiffer spearheaded the creation of an ice axe climbing route on a 50-foot-tall sediment wall.  

For members who had never climbed with ice axes before (most of us), picking up the skill was pretty simple compared to rock climbing. Actually, it was a lot more approachable because although it required some technical skills and endurance, it involved much less strength than negotiating the overhanging cliffs at the rock crag. 

The first few climbers that ascended the route used the adze of the axe (the butt end) to chip out some good foot holds, so it became easier and easier for all the subsequent climbers. Despite the sturdy foot holds and the wall's gentle downward slope, climbers still got to feel the wrist burn that quickly ensued from clinging onto the axe shafts, with the weight of their body suspended on its narrow picks. Climbers ascended slowly and methodically, tapping their picks into the sediment wall until they found secure cracks in the rock. When climbers finally reached the top, they dangled the ice axes from their harnesses and relaxed into the rope as the belayer lowered them 50 feet to the ground. It was an exhilarating experience, for sure! 

An Ultraneering Challenge in the Cordillera Blanca: A Story From the Live Your Dream Grant

Out for a glacier stroll the day before Alpamayo. PC: Nick Nasca

Adapted from the 2023 trip report by Nick Nasca

Mike in a meadow with the Husacaran Massif in the background on our first day in the range. PC: Nick Nasca

In the Summer of 2023, I went to the Cordillera Blanca with my friend and climbing Partner Mike Buyaskas. We were supported by the AAC's Live Your Dream Grant and the Loa Fund. We intended to complete an ultra mountaineering link-up. I spent countless hours researching the terrain via satellite imagery and corresponding internet photos, messaging with Peruvian guides via social media, and reading obscure trip reports I'd found from buried corners of the internet. We planned to pre-stock four camps and make a three-week push, summiting eight mountains along the way. In addition to the mental and logistical prep, Mike and I followed a training program for the six months before our expedition.  

On June 18, we landed in Lima with a ridiculous amount of luggage. One bus ride later, we were in Huaraz packing the bags that would be used for our restocked camps. We hung out around the Andean Kingdom and the Casa de Guias to learn about recent mountain conditions. We soon met Manuel Bernuy Ponte, a young Peruvian guide and owner of Peruvian Climbs. He was our most helpful connection in Huaraz. Manuel made himself and his experience in the range incredibly accessible, giving us an accurate picture of what to expect in the stretches where our route departed from the usual trodden paths of the Blanca. He also helped us secure a driver, safely stash our gear in multiple locations, and find fair prices on bulk supplies we needed.

Chopicalqui

We prepared nonstop for two days, then launched into the range with a plan of acclimatizing and stashing resupplies. We were scouting terrain between Huascaran and Chopicalqui five days later when we decided to adjust plans. A snow bridge had collapsed on Huascaran, killing a guide in the process. The prospect of equipping a ladder crossing was on the table, but there was no telling if or when that would occur. Furthermore, our on-the-ground appraisal found that linking Huascaran and Chopicalqui would require traversing extremely dangerous and highly technical terrain. The conditions that would have allowed for a more reasonable attempt simply no longer exist due to the rapid melt-out in this range. Here, we conceded our first route change, deciding to drop the first leg of our ultraneering challenge and to ration our food to stay longer and make an attempt on Chopicalqui's summit while we were at the moraine camp. 

Nick posing for a sunset picture at Chopicalqui base camp. PC: Mike Buyaskas

Knowing how slowly we moved in our barely acclimatized state, we started from moraine camp at 10 p.m. We plugged along the most extensive glacier we had ever walked on all night until we found ourselves 400 feet short of the summit by sunrise. We had fought the effects of altitude for the entire push when they finally caught up to us in the form of a costly miscommunication, which ended in our rappelling. We broke down our camp that afternoon and hitchhiked back to town by night.  

Quitaraju and Alpamayo

Nick revelling in the sunset and stoke underneath Alpamayos West face. PC: Mike Buyaskas

After a day and a half of rest, we packed enough supplies for a week, intending to climb Quitaraju and Alpamayo. The climb from Moraine camp to the Alpamayo Quitaraju col was strenuous. We climbed two pitches of low-grade alpine ice with heavy packs, which made for a more challenging day than expected. Before we could drop our packs at Col camp that afternoon, a giant ice mushroom cleaved, sending an avalanche careening directly down the runnel that contained our intended climb. These factors combined to make Alpamayo loom in my heart the same way its western face would loom over our tent for the next few days. Unfortunately, the next morning, Mike woke up altitude sick, and we decided to rest instead of attempting Quitaraju. The day after, we climbed Alpamayo. The climbing in the upper runnel was fantastic, and it felt like the whole world rotated on the axis of single moments between swings and kicks. I topped out on the summit ridge, and due to time constraints, we rappelled from there, despite the ridgeline traverse posing no more difficult climbing. 

Rest days

The next day, we got into town, and the day after that, we went for a trail run to celebrate Mike's birthday and take a break from the expedition. We reveled in our further acclimatization and returned to the base of Huandoy and the Pisco refugio, where friends were looking after the bag filled with our first stocked camp. Our ultraneering traverse received the final nail in the coffin when we observed our route up Huandoy's East Face nearly melted out, exposing bands of heinous chossy mixed climbing that otherwise would have been ice and snow. Our route would be too dry when we were poised for a summit attempt. We had yet to make a true summit but now believed ourselves to be acclimatized, so we set our sights on doing Tocllarajus W Face Direct (D+) in a faster and lighter style. 

Tocllarajus

Nick roping up for the hike back from Tocullaraju high camp, The line Nick and Mike attempted on Tocullaraju's W face climbs the icey path directly through the rocky pinch high on the climber's right side of the face.

We approached the base camp in one speedy push the night we returned from our trail run. The next day, we reached glacier camp directly underneath the face. We watched our route for a day and planned a detour from the original line to thread a safer needle between seracs high on the face. We heard the route had just yielded its first successful summit days before, after turning around many this season. We started at midnight this time, and after delicately climbing the giant icey flower petals of the upper bergschrund, we suffered excruciatingly cold and exposed belays up the sheer ice face. About two pitches from the summit ridgeline, as the sun rose, Mike began to feel too altitude sick to continue. Using zero threads, we were able to bail down the face relatively quickly. 

Expedition Changes

Mike had to leave Peru early due to a personal situation developing at home, which greatly limited our options for the remainder of the trip. We now had ten more days, and due to Mike's altitude issues, we eventually settled on a smaller, more technical route. We decided to try what we thought may be an unclimbed line on the south face of Vallunaraju's south summit. It involved 300 feet of 70-80 degree mixed climbing, which gave way to 3-400 more feet of easier mixed terrain. 

Vallunaraju

Nick finding the start of the potential new line we attempted to climb on Vallanaraju Sur. PC: Mike Buyasakas

We attempted the peak in true alpine style, starting from the gate for the national park at the mouth of the approach canyon and going gate to gate. I led an awesome M4- pitch at the start of the technicalities on beautifully striated granite. Still, we again bailed due to dangerous deep-faceted snow lurking underneath trapdoors of semi-firm crust on the upper face. Over the summer, we found that the south-facing slopes were the most likely to have that terrifying, completely unstable Peruvian snow.  

Huamashraju

We had time for one more climb before Mike's departure, and we chose to switch things up and try the classic Sins-Hanning route on Huamashraju. It is a five-pitch 5.9 on a splitter granite wall that finishes up a moderate snow ridge to the summit. We approached in the evening and bivied in a boulder cave at the very base of the route. The rapidly melting glaciers in the Blanca have formed a small pool at the base of the wall, allowing us to advance past basecamp and skip out on melting snow. The following day, we led in blocks, with Mike tackling the delicate slabby corner crux of the lower wall while I got the pleasure of pulling a fantastic roof and bumping our only #4 up the back of the offwidth squeeze pitch. We started simuling when we got up high, and once atop the ridge, we found nothing but smooth low-angle granite for another three rope lengths. These 3 pitches are apparently a new development even compared to just two years ago when it was reported that snow was reached at the beginning of the ridge. We transitioned into our crampons and soloed to the summit. Unfortunately due to a crampon malfunction Mike decided to stay behind and set up our first rappel. The final snow ridge included a 100 foot long steep airy traverse across calf high penitiente.  The Penitiente gave way to a final rope length of easy mixed climbing requiring a couple of easy blocky mantles on rock.  At the top I admired Nevado Huantsan for a moment before turning around to start the descent: a snowy down-climb proceeded by 4 rope stretching double rope 70 meter rappels. One very long hike later, we were back at the trailhead around 11 p.m., where the onset of giardia rocked me the minute I sat down on the side of the road.

Leaving the Andes…

Our driver Freddy, a cousin of our host in Caraz. Freddy enjoys Mountain Biking through the canyons of the blanca, and his company was much appreciated during the few down days we had in Caraz. PC: A Passing Tourist

Mike left the next morning, and after five days of being sick in bed, I finally recovered. For my last adventure in the Andes, I took a long, all-day trail run up a lesser-known Quebrada. I had a hunch of where I might find water ice based on locations where I'd seen some ephemeral smears over the past two months. Right where I was expecting, I found an ice line that was even better than I could have imagined. This line of nearly 1000 ft of steep ice was the best-looking ice climb I'd seen in Peru. There is a small vanishing serac above it, and judging by pictures I found of the same face in 2013, the overhead danger will continue to decrease in the coming years. This experience had me leaving Peru with lots of stoke in my heart for the many lifetimes' worth of adventures to be had here on our planet. Overall, I learned a great deal on this trip. I now understand how to look at prominent, snowy peaks from a distance and estimate where the most sensible weakness may be and what the terrain will entail. I also got my first taste of leading out into entirely unknown terrain and am hooked. 

On the upper slopes of Chopicalqui, shedding layers before continuing the descent. That evening we would make it back to the canyon floor and haggle/hitchhike our way back to Caraz. PC: Mike Buyaskas

In terms of our ultraneering challenge, the goal is still accomplishable. I don't know if I will ever attempt it again. It required massive amounts of logistical challenges as well as blue-collar prep work. I underestimated just how demanding the conditions might be between 8 different mountains. Although all of the routes we intended to climb would go at some point during the season we spent there, being able to climb all of them safely in the same three-week window would be a rare occurrence. If one were to fly off the summits of these peaks using a wing, the ultraneering traverse would become much more feasible and enjoyable. Hopefully, one day, I will get the time and resources to begin learning the art of flying, but I must return to the ordinary world via the booter. Thank you, American Alpine Club, for helping me have a once-in-a-lifetime summer in the Andes. 

This could be YOU! Apply for the Live Your Dream grant before it closes, on April 30. Don’t wait, your dream expedition is just an application away!

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Queer Mountaineers, Kulshan Climb: A Story From the Catalyst Grant

PC: Sarina Pizzala

Queer Mountaineers is a Pacific Northwest based non-profit that aims to provide community, events, resources, and a safe space for outdoor enthusiasts of all backgrounds, genders, and sexualities. Founders and directors Sarina Pizzala and Jude Glenn had a dream to put on one of the first all-queer climbs of Kulshan (Mount Baker) in the North Cascades.

Kulshan is known as a mountaineering training ground with a relatively straightforward and beginner-friendly approach. They met Jack Bynum at Indigo Alpine Guides, who shared the same passion for creating safe spaces for the LGBTQIA+(Lesiban, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer/Questioning, Intersex, Asexual) community. Together, the three of them planned a four-day course that would cover basic mountaineering skills with funding from The American Alpine Club Catalyst grant.

Join the Queer Mountaineers for a climb up beautiful Kulshan and read their story below!

Immaterial Climbing: A Story From the Catalyst Grant

Reported by Sierra McGivney

Photos by Ben Burch

Ben Burch climbing, featured in Immaterial Climbing. PC: Ashley Xu

In the backdrop of Northern Appalachia, Ben Burch (he/they) drove to nowhere. Like most high schoolers, driving was a source of relief and independence in the wake of an angsty breakup. Eventually, Burch needed to stop at a gas station, and the one they picked happened to be next to a climbing gym. Bored of driving aimlessly in their car, Burch wandered inside the climbing gym, opening the door to climbing and its community.  

Burch continued cultivating their passion for climbing in Philadelphia when he went to college. There, he worked with other queer climbers to create PHLash, a community-based, peer-led group that aims to bring together LGBTQIA+ individuals to climb and socialize. Burch found he loved leading and being a part of that community. It was a space that held community and understanding in a sport that traditionally has not always provided that. 

The mood shifted last year when West Virginia attempted to pass a law banning events based around queer affinity. West Virginia is only a stone's throw from Pennsylvania and hosts Homoclimbtastic, the world's largest queer-friendly climbing festival. Burch and his friends found themselves distressed about the status of Homoclimbtastic. This event, like PHLash, had enriched their climbing experience. It kept Burch climbing and invited others into the community. But now, they didn't know if it would ever exist again. Instinctively, Burch thought, I need to document this. 

"I just needed to have something recorded down so people know that this event was here and that we were here," said Burch. 

Their idea was to take photos from affinity groups and events they attended and post them on Instagram to exist somewhere in the ether. On a whim, Burch applied to the American Alpine Club's Catalyst Grant and was chosen. Their photos would no longer live just online but in a physical book: Immaterial Climbing: A Queer Climbing Photography Zine. 

Burch embarked on an East Coast climbing adventure, photographing and memorializing queer events, meetups, and climbers. 

Ultimately, the version of the bill that would outlaw Homoclimbtastic did not pass; however, the bill that did pass put restrictions on queer events. Minors are not allowed to be involved in any way in drag shows in West Virginia, and drag show organizers are responsible for checking the age of attendees. At the Homoclimbtastic Drag Show, participants had to wear a wristband and have their IDs checked. 

Despite the political backdrop, the high-energy drag show and dance party at Homoclimbtastic was one of the most fun nights Burch had in years. For some photographers, when they capture moments through the pictures they take, their memories bend to how they remember them. That night, Burch took a photo of someone dancing surrounded by a bunch of people, all wearing wristbands, and titled it Armbands Around Salamander because the person dancing in the center has a salamander tattoo on their shoulder. This ended up becoming one of Burch's favorite photos in the book. 

"They're really kind of lost in their moment of dance, and for me, even though it is kind of a reconstructed memory, I really think about that dance party as this moment of freedom and expression regardless of the circumstances that were trying to repress that," said Burch.

In the book, Burch focuses on his home base, too. 

One moment stuck out to Burch. A participant at PHLash wearing a Brittney Spears t-shirt said that climbing in Pennsylvania is like Spears' song …Baby One More Time. The rock climbing in the northeast is generally not friendly. Outside of Philadelphia, one of the main climbing areas, Hayock, is home to Solid Triassic Diabase, a type of rock that requires precision on unforgiving edges. Philadelphia feels like a city that embeds grit and determination in its residents, much like the climbing in the area. The lyric hit me baby one more time embodies the rough climbing and the determination of the climbers in the area. 

Photo by Ben Burch

Burch became interested in the idea that the city you're from—not just the culture–is reflected in the climber. In the book's PHLash section, he mixes photos from living in Philadelphia with climbing photos from the meetup. 

Next, Burch changed their aperture, widened their depth of field, and traveled down to Atlanta, Georgia, to the southeast bouldering scene. 

"[Bouldering in the southeast] is truly this perfect marriage of texture and shapes that force precise body positioning and control, mixed with the raw power to get through the fact that they're all just slopers disguising themselves as crimps," said Burch.

There, he participated in a meetup with the affinity group Unharnessed, an LGBT+ and allies climbing club. At this meetup, Burch was more of a wallflower; he had a couple of friends in the Atlanta area but was not a deep group member in the same way as Homoclimbtastic or PHLash. He listened in on the conversation between climbs and found it was not the idle talk that normally existed at the crag. People would talk about the climb or the person climbing, but then the conversation would shift to asking if anyone had extra food to put in the Atlanta community fridge or about the community resources near the gym. He was so struck by how focused the group was on building community through resources and knowledge. 

It reminded him of a quote by bell hooks, "I think that part of what a culture of domination has done is raise that romantic relationship up as the single most important bond, when of course the single most important bond is that of community."

In their portrait section, Burch created a shallow depth of field, softening the background and pulling queer climbers to the forefront. Andrew Izzo is a crusher. He has recently sent Bro-Zone (5.14b) in the Gunks and Proper Soul (5.14a) in the New River Gorge and is a consistent double-digit boulderer based in Philadelphia. He only came out recently and is featured in Immaterial Climbing: A Queer Climbing Photography Zine. Burch thought that taking and publishing these photos of him almost served as a coming-out party. Izzo felt like there was no better way for him to come out. The intersection of being part of the queer community and part of the climbing community showed all of him. "That was a special moment in taking these photos, serving as a space for someone to embrace all of themselves," said Burch.  

Everyone featured in the book's portrait section was chosen for their excellence in community work or climbing. Burch wanted to highlight these individuals who were balancing so many aspects of their identity and achieving so much within the climbing community.

The book revolves around the community Burch is most familiar with—that he could really speak to without fear of misrepresentation. 

"I think all climbers are in constant chase of flow, of that feeling when you are climbing, and it feels like your body is in perfect response to what it needs to do with the rock—this immovable object that you have rehearsed and understood. For me, the East Coast Climbing Scene feels like that state of flow.

“It feels like a place where you are understood, and people know who you are, even without thinking about the larger circumstances. It's this, like, perfect moment of escape in the larger challenge of—to complete the metaphor—trying to finish the climb," said Burch.

More about Immaterial Climbing: A Queer Climbing Photography Zine and Ben Burch (he/they): 

PC: Ben Burch

Burch is a photographer and climber currently based out of Washington DC. Part of queer affinity groups since they began climbing, he wanted to use this zine as a love letter to the spaces that gave him so much. For more of their photography, please follow them @benjammin_burch on Instagram.

Immaterial Climbing is a photography zine which explores the world of queer climbing. Taken over the course of 2023, this book explores meet-ups, affinity groups, and climbers who are creating their own space of belonging. The project features the event Homoclimbtastic, affinity groups Unharnessed and Phlash, as well as portraits of queer climbers. It is a lovely coffee table book, a book to add to your gym's collection, or a reminder that we'll always be here. Grab your copy.

This project was made possible through the American Alpine Club and the bravery of the queer climbing community.

Measuring Success in the Mountains 

PC: Lindsey Hamm

A Story from the Cutting Edge Grant and the McNeill-Nott Award

By: Sierra McGivney

In July of 2023, Lindsey Hamm, Rhiannon Williams, Stephanie Williams, and Thomas Bukowski traveled to the Charakusa Valley in the Karakoram to attempt routes on Naisa Brakk (~5,200m) and Farhod Brakk (~5,300m). To attempt these objectives, Hamm received the American Alpine Club's McNeill-Nott Award and $6,000 from the Cutting Edge Grant. This was Hamm’s second trip to the Charakusa Valley. In 2022, she, Dakota Walz, and Lane Mathis established a first ascent on a formation between Spansar Brakk and Naisa Brakk (which they named Ishaq Brakk): Pull Down the Sky (15 pitches, 5.11 R). In 2023, she defined success a little differently. 

“I think there were a lot of lessons learned,” remarked Lindsey Hamm from a coffee shop in Moab. She's been enjoying climbing in the desert; today is her rest day. 

She had returned from the Charakusa Valley a couple of months ago without accomplishing the FAs she had dreamed up. This year, her crew went in with two objectives, and they split up in two teams to make their respective attempts. But ultimately, the weather was against them, and it rained 22 of the 30 days they were in the valley. 

PC: Lindsey Hamm

The team desperately wanted to climb, but the weather was a big factor. When they did attempt a line, they would climb for an hour, bivy, wait out the rain, and then climb. They were in this constant mode of stop-and-go that was not sustainable. 

Hamm and Bukowski attempted a route on the Northeast Spur on Farhod Brakk. They were shut down due to objective hazard and need for potable water. The two had only planned for two or three days and ended up being out for about four days. Then bad weather moved in.

“I think it was a bad season for rock climbing,” said Hamm.

This was another lesson learned: Big-wall climbing is better later in the season. She chose to go in July because she wanted to attempt both alpine and rock objectives. The environment is so different from one peak to the next that you could attempt both alpine and rock objectives during this time of the year. 

PC: Lindsey Hamm

“I'm really learning the place,” said Hamm. Hamm is an AMGA Cer­ti­fied Rock and Alpine Guide, and an Appren­tice Ski Guide, but she believes there is always more to learn, especially in alpinism. 

In addition, Hamm and another teammate dealt with altitude sickness. This was something new for Hamm. She had never experienced it to the extent she did on this trip. On one of the climbs, she was breathing heavily. She had to take a moment to feel everything and then “get her shit together.” According to Hamm, her group’s effort to help each other out when they were sick was a highlight of their climbing. 

Hamm’s team wasn't the only group stifled by the rain. Base camp, which sits at 14,321 feet, became a hub of climbers waiting for good weather windows. Groups played volleyball together, hosted movie nights, and played Settlers of Catan. Hamm was very social; she went to other campsites, hung out with different people, and got to know everyone. She read, worked out, and cooked with the porters. 

Hamm took it in stride—the trip wasn't a negative experience; things just weren't aligning. With each passing season, she is becoming more and more dialed. Last year, Hamm and Dakota Walz started a line, but they didn’t get to finish putting it up or cleaning it—they only completed one pitch. This year, Hamm got back on that first pitch with S. Williams, R. Williams, and Bukowski, and climbed five more pitches to link into the Southwest Ridge, first put up by Steve House, Marko Prezelj, and Vince Anderson in the early 2000. Their “sit-start” to the Southwest Ridge is called Stop Talking (six pitches, 5.12-). Their plan was to link into the Southwest Ridge and then break off into the west face and put up a new route, but once again, rain and thunder turned them around. Later, S. Williams and R. Williams attempted Stop Talking ground up, but were again foiled by rain.

On expeditions, climbing isn't the only focus for Hamm. She believes in having a positive impact on the local community. The team brought over school supplies for the Hushe Valley, which they distributed among three schools in the area. In addition, Hamm set up a GoFundMe that goes towards the Iqra Fund, which helps Pakistani women achieve their master’s degrees. Hamm and the team met some of the women who benefited from the fund. The team got to see their faces, hear their voices, and see how they lived. Facilitating and helping with these women’s education meant so much to Hamm. 

“I think one of the biggest highlights was meeting those women,” said Hamm.  

PC: Lindsey Hamm

She got to see many of the same porters and guides she worked with last year. They were as happy to see her as she was to see them. Despite the language barrier, the experience was like reuniting with old friends. She gave away a lot of her Rab equipment, including sleeping bags, to her porters and guides. It’s important for her to give back to the community that is helping her achieve her goals in the mountains. 

“It [provided] so much validation about how much of the connection I built with people,” said Hamm. 

Since returning to the United States, Hamm has been looking toward the future, analyzing what she can do better next time.

“I'm going back next summer,” said Hamm, with a big smile on her face. “I already told Jack Tackle.” Tackle chairs the AAC’s Cutting Edge Grant committee, which decides the fate of grant applications.

She will train hard and try her best to get funding without forcing anything. She has 170 lbs. of stashed gear waiting for her return. She's definitely going back. Right now, she is focusing on the next couple of months. Hamm is going through the IFMGA guide certification process—this season, she will take her final exam. She’s still processing this summer’s trip and reflecting on what she can do better next time. Most importantly, she’s living for today.

New Route on White Sapphire

Cerro Kishtwar (center), White sapphire (right). Photo by Vitaliy Musiyenko.

A Story from the 2023 Cutting Edge Grant

By: Sierra McGivney

On October 6, 2023, Christian Black, Vitaliy Musiyenko, and Hayden Wyatt summited White Sapphire, a 6,040m peak in India's Kishtwar Himalaya. The new route was named Brilliant Blue (850m, AI3, M7+). To attempt this mountain, the team received $8,000 from the American Alpine Club's Cutting Edge Grant, made possible by Black Diamond. They climbed the route free and in alpine style. This is the third ascent of White Sapphire.

Pack mules descending the valley on our hike to basecamp. Photo by Vitaliy Musiyenko.

AAC: In 2022, you received the Live Your Dream Grant to attempt a line in British Columbia on Mt. Bute. How did you transition from a Live Your Dream–style expedition to a Cutting Edge–style expedition in just a year?

Christian Black: The funny thing was we just needed an idea. Expeditions are challenging to plan. It all came from our friend giving us the idea—something to dream about, on the other side of the world as opposed to in America or Canada.

AAC: White Sapphire has seen two first ascents previously, via the west face in 2012 and the south face in 2016; how did you choose this peak and, more specifically, the line?

CB: I've always struggled to plan what to do in an area I haven't been to. There's just too much information out there. The story is that I met a guy who had spent his whole life going on expeditions. He had a whole list of unclimbed things he never got around to. He was trying to find people to do them. And he approached me and said: You're a big-wall climber with alpine climbing experience. You should check out this peak. I've got photos of it, and it's pretty cool looking. So, the original intent was to climb the big-wall rock face on White Sapphire, knowing that we had to be flexible to the conditions. We ended up climbing more of an alpine route because we went later in the season, and it had snowed and gotten cold. But to answer your question, it was a gift from someone who has done a lot of cutting-edge expeditions and is out of the game now. He had said: I'm aged out and happy to pass on the torch of ideas if you're interested in going to the Himalayas. The Himalayas are such a large place; you'll never know what to do unless you go once, so you just need a reason to go.

Hayden starting a simul-block up midway up the steep snow and ice of the lower section of the route. Photo by Christian Black.

AAC: Who gave you the idea?

CB: It was Pete Takeda [the editor of Accidents in North American Climbing.] I'm like a bad historical knowledge climber, so I didn't know much about him until later. But, I mean, obviously, he's legendary.

AAC: What type of climbing did you encounter on White Sapphire?

CB: We first encountered 2,000 vertical feet of steep snow and ice with moderate mixed climbing toward the top, anywhere from 60 to 80 degrees snow, and AI3 climbing. Then, it was more like M4 and M5 climbing to the top of the snow part. The upper headwall that goes up the direct north face of White Sapphire Peak ended up being a little over 200 vertical meters of climbing and seven or eight pitches of fairly sustained, steep dry tooling. And so there were about two pitches of M7+, a few of M6 and M5, and some alpine ice and snow mixed in.

AAC: How was the quality of the ice and the rock?

CB: It was really good. The rock up there is not granite; it's a gneiss. I studied geology, so I noticed, but you can't tell from far away. It forms cracks differently. It climbed quite a bit differently, but the rock was very solid. Except for one pitch, all the rock was pretty good.

AAC: Can you walk me through from when you left advanced base camp on October 5 until you returned on October 7?

CB: Yeah, so I might back up a bit because we had two attempts on the peak, the first one thwarted by a broken stove when we were 100 meters from the summit. It adds to the lore of the story. The moral of the story is the fuel mix in India is a little different, so it didn't work well with our stove and caused it to overheat. We learned a hard lesson about not taking a backup stove. That was our first attempt, but I'll fast-forward to the successful second attempt.

Starting to rappel from the notch after first attempt. Photo by Vitaliy Musiyenko.

We came down on that first attempt and had a few days at base camp. The weather looked like it would be good again, so we packed our food and some stoves and hiked up there. We waited about six days of weather for a good window to appear at our high camp. We left around three or four in the morning on October 5 from our advanced base camp at 15,800 feet. Then, we had a two- or three-hour glacier approach to the base. After that, we started simul-climbing the lower, less steep section of steep ice and snow. We did about a 1,300-foot simul-climb pitch. Vitaliy led that, and then Hayden led the second half of the ice and mixed climbing to the notch that day. We camped there that evening in our little corner bivy.

The following day, October 6, we woke up and took our altitude med concoction that gave us superpowers. What we had initially climbed as four pitches of steep mixed climbing the first time—we aided a lot of that and left in some of the crucial pins—this time, I suggested we climb it free. We ended up free climbing all of that terrain and didn't aid climbing anything. We did it in two 50-meter pitches. And that got us to our high point. From there, we continued to the summit. There was no terrain harder than those first two pitches. The headwall pops out directly on the small summit. We ended up being on the summit around 7:45 p.m. It was dark by that time of year, so we spent about an hour up there, melted some water, took photos, and enjoyed our time. Then we rappelled in the dark back to our bivy. The next day, we had a slow morning and rappelled back down to our base camp. It was an uneventful third day, which was nice.

AAC: What do you think was your biggest emotional hurdle on the trip?

CB: Oh, man, there were a few of them. A big one for all three of us was definitely the stove breaking on our first attempt. At that point, we were only ten days into our 26-day expedition and were 100 meters from the top. We thought it would be unbelievable if we did this first try. That would leave us with two weeks to climb whatever else we wanted. Accepting the reality that it was unsafe to go up without water was hard for us. We had less than a liter of water to share between three people, which would have been our ration for the whole day. Especially knowing now what the upper terrain is like, I'm super glad we didn’t go that first time. The climbing was still hard and would have taken a long time. Being dehydrated up there is not a safe thing that any of us would be willing to do. So that was a hard truth to accept.

Excited to be at notch bivy before sunset! Photo by Christian Black.

Luckily, the saving grace is that Hayden, Vitaliy, and I are all close friends. Vitaliy and Hayden didn't know each other before the trip, but I'm close friends with both of them. We all have very similar approaches to safety-related decisions. We were all on the same page about flexing the bail muscle. Other than that, we each had our moments of need, which the other two were naturally able to step in and take care of, which was nice.

AAC: How did you end up picking your team?

CB: Hayden is one of my best friends. We worked on the Yosemite SAR team together for a few years. I met him there, and we climbed El Capitan several times together. We just got along energy-wise. Over the past couple of years, we've gotten to go on multiple, more extensive trips together. One of those trips was to Mt. Bute on the Live Your Dream grant. This summer, we went to the Cirque of the Unclimbables for a month. If you're going to be in gnarly places, you want to be with good people. I only climb with my friends in those scenarios—honestly, in most scenarios.

Vitaliy, I met through messaging online. When I worked in Kings Canyon as a park ranger, he had put up a bunch of routes in the Sierra that I kept seeing his name on and was interested in doing. I messaged him to gather information. We ended up linking up on a climb the following year. We had an epic time. We did The Nose in a day as our first climb, and he took a 100-foot whipper. It was really scary, but we both reacted in a way that felt right. It built a lot of trust between us. Even though we haven't always lived in the same place, we'd casually link up for outings. We know each other as solid partners who know their stuff and are easy to get along with.

Photo by Christian Black.

AAC: That's great it worked out so well. It sounds like you had a good team.

CB: Yeah, that was the best part, for sure. You can't compare any experience to doing this with your two best friends. It's just so fun!

AAC: Do you have any fun anecdotes or funny moments from the trip?

CB: The funniest moments were just like how horrible we felt at various times. That is how we each process hard experiences in the moment. You can't help but laugh at it. And that's why we like each other as climbing partners, because none of us take it seriously.

A funny moment for me was when we made it to the bivy notch on the first attempt. It was pretty late, and I had fallen asleep multiple times on the last two pitches. We got up there, and I was boiling the water. It was dark, I was in every puffy layer I owned, and I was ten times more tired than I'd ever been in my whole life at 19,000 feet. I'm holding the Jetboil upright, and my purpose in life has never been more apparent. I hold the Jetboil. If the Jetboil isn't held, the water spills, and we don't drink water. I had an internal moment of reflection, like, wow, life has never been simpler than it is right now. There are only so many times when your life boils down to doing an incredibly simple task. For 45 minutes, that was my whole life.

The first mixed pitch out of the notch bivy. I'm [Christian Black] contemplating how to navigate the unprotected slab to gain the cracks. Photo by Vitaliy Musiyenko.

AAC: Is there anything else you want to add about the trip?

CB: The only thing I have to add is I feel so appreciative of a good team and good friends to be out there with and make hard decisions with. That was our biggest takeaway. We had a two-part goal going into the trip: A) we obviously wanted to come back alive, and B) become better friends. We achieved those goals through the roof. We have a lot of trust in each other. It's a cool medium to experience friendship in.

*Christian Black is writing a feature article for the 2024 American Alpine Journal about this expedition.

The Cutting Edge Grant is Powered By:

Dear Mother: A Transracial Adoption Story

An Upcoming Film from Jon Glassberg, Sophi Rutherford, and the Pull Focus Grant

In Dear Mother, climber and transracial Asian-American, Cody Kaemmerlen, searches for connection with his birth parents after a near-death fall leaves him shaken and grasping for answers.

Synopsis

Cody Kaemmerlan is a climber adopted out of South Korea in 1984, into rural Tillamook, Oregon. He was raised by a loving family, and thrived in his small town, not fully comprehending what it was like to be a person of color in a white world. After reaching out to the adoption agency, he was left with an email stating his birth mother had no interest in meeting her son. He struggled in adulthood, as he started to experience adversity which produced a cycle of anger, divorce, car accident, and finally a near-death free-soloing fall which became a catalyst for change.

A few years later, the agency reached out with an apology about a file mix-up, stating his birth mother and father would love to meet. Soon after, he begins to process his adoption and identity with the help of the climbing community and close friends.

Follow Cody to South Korea on his mission to meet his mother and father, in hopes of finding resolution and inner peace.

ABOUT The Directors:

Louder Than 11 is a media production company and creative agency based in Boulder, Colorado, run by Jon and Jess Glassberg. LT11 delivers authentic narratives through their work with top-level brands, professional athletes, and other creatives in the Outdoor Industry. Louder Than Eleven is made up of passionate filmmakers, photographers, and professionals who tell great stories through adventure media.

In Association With:

ABOUT THE PULL FOCUS GRANT:

Climbers build their lives around adventure in the outdoors. Climb United is committed to being adventurous in our pursuit of others’ perspectives. We know how important climbing media is in shaping climbing culture. We also know that the stories that have been told have highlighted those in power. We want to remove barriers that underrepresented communities continue to be challenged with when accessing the outdoor media and production industry and to support the progression of a talented filmmaker’s career. 

Introducing Pull Focus: a storytelling grant that provides BIPOC, LGBTQ+ individuals, and people with both seen and unseen disabilities the funds and mentorship support to create and share stories that reflect their communities. The Pull Focus Grant is made possible by Mountain Hardwear!

Dear Mother was assistant directed by the recipient of the Pull Focus Grant, Sophi Rutherford. Read about Sophi’s artistic philosophy and why she resonated with Cody’s story in this profile of Sophi as an emerging filmmaker.

CREDITS:

A Louder Than Eleven Production 

Presented by American Alpine Club 

In Association With Mountain Hardwear 

With Support From A-Lodge & Pro Photo Rental

Directed by Jon Glassberg 

Starring Cody Kaemmerlen 

Birth Parents Nam Family

Featuring Janet Kaemmerlen, Mike Kaemmerlen, Nina Williams, Suah Yu, Peter Clotfelter-Quenelle, Hoseok Lee

Assistant Director Sophi Rutherford 

Written by Jon Glassberg, Jessica Glassberg 

Edited by Jon Glassberg 

Assistant Edit Saraphina Redalieu

Video by Jon Glassberg, Jessica Glassberg, Sophi Rutherford, Cody Kaemmerlen 

Photography Sophi Rutherford, Jessica Glassberg

Archival Material Provided by Cody Kaemmerlen, Kaemmerlen Family, Joey Maloney 

Voice Over Mei Ratz

How to Dream up the Next Cutting-Edge Thing

PC: Jeff & Priti Wright

By: Sierra McGivney

First ascents and new lines on faraway mountains fill the American Alpine Journal every year. American Alpine Club members and climbers in the community browse the AAJ annually, reading stories about cutting-edge ascents. Some might even wonder to themselves, how do you dream up the next cutting-edge thing?

Beyond producing the AAJ, the American Alpine Club has a legacy of encouraging and inspiring climbers to push their limits and dream big through our grants. In 2022, Jeff and Priti Wright won our Cutting Edge Grant, sponsored by Black Diamond, to attempt K7 Central. This year, Lindsey Hamm won the Cutting Edge Grant and also our McNiell-Nott Grant, sponsored by Mountain Hardwear. They are each cutting-edge alpinists who are in pursuit of world-class climbing and mountaineering objectives. And they have answers to the questions you've been wondering about. 

Step One: Light the Fire

Priti and Jeff Wright are a wife and husband duo based in Seattle who have been featured in the AAJ three times and on The Cutting Edge podcast. Their blog Alpine Vagabonds details their first ascents, alpine endeavors, and how-tos. Some of their most notable accomplishments are the first ascent of K6 Central (7,155m), the third ascent of K6 West (7,140m), all four peaks of Patagonia's Torre Range, and "The Six Classic North Faces of the Alps." But how did two-weekend warriors become cutting-edge alpinists? 

Jeff and Priti on K6. PC: Jeff & Priti Wright

In 2017, The Mountaineers, a nonprofit climbing club based in the Pacific Northwest, held a talk featuring Graham Zimmerman, professional alpinist and AAC president, at their local gear shop in Seattle. It inspired the Wrights, so they approached him after the talk. Over drinks with Zimmerman, they talked about planning trips and their goals. They were excited about doing something new. The Greater Ranges in the Himalayas had caught their attention. 

They asked Zimmerman about K6 Central, which he had attempted. They were interested in climbing it themselves. Zimmerman said something along the lines of, "Go send that sh*t." The two were stoked that Zimmerman had been so encouraging and kind.

"In the climbing community, almost everyone you reach out to is friendly and nice because they were in your position at one point," said Priti. 

So for their first trip, they rode Zimmerman's coattails. According to Jeff, this is fairly common in the climbing community—failed expeditions can be a great opportunity for someone looking to make a first ascent. But you don't want to scoop someone's line, so contact the person first and see if they will make a second attempt at it. If they aren't planning to, they might even help you out and give you some extra beta. 

Step Two: Plan An Expensive Glorified Camping Trip

On this first trip to Pakistan to climb K6 Central, Priti and Jeff learned a lot. Big expeditions are like glorified camping trips with lots of extra stuff, according to the Wrights. 

PC: Jeff & Priti Wright

Logistics to be considered when planning a big expedition are: 

  • Visas 

  • Permits 

  • Tour operators

  • Satellite devices

  • Weather

  • Power sources 

  • Budget

  • Food 

  • Shower

  • Washing clothes

They use spreadsheets and checklists to stay organized. Once you've figured out logistics, you can focus more on the climbing or technical aspect of your trip. The two got a lot of advice from Steven Swenson and Colin Haley on what food to bring and what airlines have the best baggage deals. Knowing someone who has gone on an expedition before can be a huge asset. 

If you're wondering how to budget and get your trip funded, look into mountaineering grants. The AAC has quite a few for all different types of trips. Mountaineering or skiing/splitboarding based? We got you. Research or breaking barriers based? We got you. Have a climbing dream of any kind? You guessed it—we have a grant for you.

Step Three: Leave No Trace? Leave the Right Trace.

This is Lindsey Hamm’s second trip to the Churakusa Valley. This year, she's backed by the Cutting Edge Grant and the McNeill-Nott Grant. 

"I'm thankful and grateful to have another opportunity," said Hamm.

Last year she, Dakota Walz, and Lane Mathis established a first ascent on a formation between Spanster Brakk and Naisa Brakk (which they named Ishaqu Brakk): Pull Down the Sky (15 pitches, 5.11 R). 

Hamm is always excited about seeing the porters, cooks, and guides she's worked with again and continuing to build a relationship with the community in the valley. There is beauty in being around people who have a different life than hers. She becomes a student again. 

This year, Hamm's group is bringing over school supplies and paying teachers their salaries for the year. For Hamm, climbing is about community, not just the climbing community.

Jeff and Priti have the same attitude. They advocate for climbing responsibly and contributing to the community where they are climbing. Alongside Steve Swenson, they work with Iraq Fund, an organization that helps girls go to school. 

"It's not just about 'how you can help the climbing community' but the greater community as well," said Priti.

Step Four: Listen Closely for Unclimbed Peaks

K7 Expedition. PC: Jeff & Priti Wright

For the Wright's 2022 K7 Central trip, expectations were low. The idea was original and supported by the Cutting-Edge Grant. The inspiration for this trip was found at another mountaineer's talk. This time it was Steven Swenson who presented. He mentioned that K7 Central was unclimbed. They noted this and added it to their list of climbing ideas. There was a limited amount of information out there once they started looking into it. But that didn't deter them in the slightest. 

"It's so difficult to try to come up with your own original idea in the Greater Ranges," said Jeff. 

Half of the work is finding an objective that has yet to be done. Many of the Greater Ranges' mountains have little information on them, so it takes a decent amount of work just to look up a mountain and see what's been done. 

The Wrights have spent hundreds of hours looking through documents in the AAC Library and the AAJ, searching for information on cutting-edge ascents. The AAC library uniquely holds so much history and resources for planning expeditions.  

With a lack of information, the expedition became exploratory. They were unsuccessful in 2022 but are going to go back this summer to try K7 Central again. 

Step Five: Devour Audio and Video Inspiration

"Getting inspired by listening to podcasts like The Cutting Edge and following people on Instagram, reading things that people have written, makes it seem a little more possible, and it gets those gears turning of, well, what might I be able to do?" said Priti. 

Jeff and Priti's go-to podcasts to feed the stoke:

  • The Cutting Edge podcast

  • The Run-Out

  • Climbing Gold

  • The Enormocast

  • Alpinist

  • The Firn Line

  • Uphill Athlete

  • Evoke Endurance

  • Training for Climbing

Books:

  • The American Alpine Journal

    • Seriously, the AAJ contains trip reports for areas relevant to your expedition—Lindsay, Priti, and Jeff each swear by it.

  • Anything relevant in the AAC Library

  • Training for the New Alpinism: A Manual for the Climber as Athlete

  • Training for the Uphill Athlete

Step Six: You've Figured Out Where You Want to Go—Time to Train

For the last six years, Jeff and Priti have been in the Uphill Athlete Program, a training program with daily workouts made for different uphill pursuits. You might have seen or read the book Training for the Uphill Athlete; essentially, this is an extension of the book. They have been focusing on the endurance aspect of training and bringing it into the mountains. The biggest thing for them when putting together a plan is to focus on their goal. 

"You have to break it down to, what are you training for? What are the exact specs of the thing you want to do?" said Priti. 

PC: Jeff & Priti Wright

If your goal involves a lot of steep inclines, get your cardio high. At altitude, that's what you'll start losing first. If your goal involves a lot of technical climbing, you'll want to focus on strength training. At a certain point, you’ll have enough technical skills to accomplish your objective, and you can focus more on your muscular endurance and aerobic capacity. 

The Wrights have big long objectives, so they focus on endurance-type training. Training is a huge part of alpinism or any big objective. It can help mitigate some risks. When you're at altitude and stressed out, having a reserve of energy can be huge.

"This weekend, all of our friends are going out rock climbing, and I'll be carrying a heavy pack up a steep muddy trail; just very monotonous and antisocial," said Jeff. "But it's nice to have a big objective that you're working towards."

Priti keeps a photo of her climbing goals or objectives on the background of her phone and on her credit card. It's a reminder of what she's working towards and saving up for. 

Step Seven: Build Partnerships and Positivity 

The Wrights have the benefit of being married to their climbing partner. They live together so they can feed off of each other's excitement. They know each other extremely well and know their communication style. Their situation is unique. The majority of partnerships don't have this dynamic—but one piece of advice that can be applied to every partnership? Don't share negative thoughts. 

PC: Jeff & Priti Wright

"You can always put a positive spin on something," said Priti.

If you're not stoked about something, ask yourself, is this really worth sharing? Expeditions can be miserable but well worth it. Keeping both your energy and the energy of others high can be a huge factor in completing your goals. 

There is also a balance between sharing safety or logistical concerns and being negative. If you are concerned for your or your group's safety, definitely speak up. Take your time with safety skills when training, too. They are necessary out in the mountains. To keep up their skills, Jeff and Pritit teach classes on climbing safety skills through BOEALPS. What's that old saying? The best way to learn is to teach. 

If you enjoy learning, try and find a local group or guiding company that teaches mountaineer or alpine skills. At one point, Jeff and Priti were in a program run by Steve Swenson designed to instruct and mentor up-and-coming alpinists. Listening to Swenson's stories inspired the two. Knowing someone who had climbed in the alpine a lot made it feel more possible. 

Step Eight: No Really, Partnership is Crucial

"I'm in four different relationships, and that is with all of my climbing partners," said Hamm. 

She likens these relationships to romantic partners. She speaks with each of them on a daily basis to build trust and learn how each communicates. Expedition partners add another layer of friction, good and bad. They need to be able to adapt, work and think as a group. After the trip, Hamm's goal is to return together as a healthy family. 

"I'm hype-girl Hamm," said Hamm. 

She's also building a relationship with the mountains, getting to know the valley and Pakistan. She's trying to understand what friction exists there, whether that is the political climate or the actual climate. 

Step Nine: Seek the Friction

In climbing, friction is all around us. It's created by partners, belay devices, knots, and the climbing rubber on our shoes. 

"I think the fact that I have created a little bit more friction for myself …[allows me to seek] a different level of climbing that I've never experienced," said Hamm. "I have taken a lot of time to learn on a smaller scale to be able to go bigger."

Photo provided by Lindsey Hamm.

For Hamm, this isn't her first pitch. This is a culmination of ten years of guiding, learning, and understanding the disciplines: big wall climbing, skiing, ice climbing, mixed climbing, trad climbing, and glacial travel. Big expeditions take her out of her comfort zone and create a new layer of friction: the unknown. 

"I really like the unknown," said Hamm with a smile.

She's on her way to the Black Canyon of the Gunnison to train for her upcoming trip. Her focus for this trip will be to work on her breathing, moving slowly and more meticulously. The Black Canyon is a lot like Pakistan—very adventurous, and strengthens the fingers. 

"You can feel how the pioneers did it," said Hamm.

She'll head to Washington after The Black for altitude training, a different type of friction. Donning a heavy pack, she'll spend days going up and then down, acclimatizing to higher altitudes. The friction here is not seen but felt in the lack of air and the final push of training.

The environment, the people, and the climbing excite her. She looks over old photos and her grant proposal to stay motivated, but in general, she is a highly motivated, goal-oriented person, in part because of her ADHD. This trip is her lead, her idea.  

"I'm living my dream," said Hamm. 

Livin’ the Dream

PC: Jeff & Priti Wright

For Priti, Jeff, Lindsey, and many others, these expeditions are their dreams. They all started out learning and honing their skills: the tuned eye it takes to notice a first ascent opportunity; or leveraging and learning from the friction as they pushed harder and harder. They explored what motivated them and what made them excited. 

Seek out what excites you the most. Go to talks, read books, and listen to podcasts that inspire you. Be comfortable being uncomfortable. Soon those stunning lines on faraway mountains won't seem so far away anymore. 

The American Alpine Club Announces 2023 Cutting Edge Grant Winners

PC: Nelson Neirinck

March 2023

The American Alpine Club and Black Diamond Equipment are pleased to announce the 2023 Cutting Edge Grant recipients. The Cutting Edge Grant continues the Club's 120-year tradition by funding individuals planning expeditions to remote areas featuring unexplored mountain ranges, unclimbed peaks, difficult new routes, first-free ascents, or similar world-class pursuits. Six recipients have been awarded a total of $39,000 for this cycle, with objectives featuring a low-impact style and leave-no-trace mentality being looked upon with favor. Black Diamond Equipment is a proud sponsor of the Cutting Edge Grant and a key partner in supporting cutting-edge alpinism. This year we are also grateful for the support of big wall luminary John Middendorf.

Jackson Marvell will receive $8,000 to attempt the north face of Jannu in Nepal (7,710m). This line was climbed nearly two decades ago by a Russian team in siege style over two years. Marvell and his team will be attempting an alpine-style climb of the route. After an attempt in 2021, Marvell felt confident an alpine-style ascent was possible. In 2022, Marvell and his group were turned around due to unfavorable weather. They are excited about another attempt. 

Seth Timpano will receive $8,000 to attempt Pik Koroleva in Kyrgyzstan (5,812m). He has found two unclimbed lines, both of which would be highly technical and require sustained climbing on a rarely climbed mountain. Timpano has first ascents in India, Alaska, and Kyrgyzstan. In 2010, Timpano received the McNeill-Nott Award, and in 2014 he received the Lyman-Spitzer Grant now called the Cutting Edge Award.

Christian Black will receive $8,000 to attempt White Sapphire in Kishtwar, India. White Sapphire (6,040m) lies near the more famous Cerro Kishtwar. Black is drawn to the peak for its technical challenge, beautiful line, and the opportunity to explore with a small team in good style. Christian Black received the Live Your Dream Grant in 2022 for his expedition to British Columbia to attempt a new route on Mt. Bute. You can read more about it here. Vitaliy Musiyenko (bottom left) and Hayden Wyatt (bottom right) will be joining Christian on White Saphier.

Noah Besen will receive $6,000 to climb in Coronation Fjord on Baffin Island, Canada. Besen wants to attempt an adventurous, human-powered expedition to an area on the remote east coast of Baffin Island containing 1,000-meter cliffs on which there have been no previously documented climbing expeditions. All routes climbed will be first ascents. Through university studies of the Coronation Glacier area, Besen has determined there are several areas with massive rock faces for potential big-wall free climbs. This expedition will require climbing, paddling, and wilderness and safety skills to succeed.

Lindsey Hamm will receive $6,000 to visit the Charakusa Valley in the Karakoram, which has produced cutting-edge climbs for nearly forty years. This will be Hamm’s second trip to the Charakusa. In 2022, she, Dakota Walz, and Lane Mathis established a first ascent on a formation between Spanster Brakk and Naisa Brakk (which they named Ishaqu Brakk): Pull Down the Sky (15 pitches, 5.11 R). This year, Hamm along with Holly Mackin, Stephanie Williams, and Thomas Bukowski will attempt routes on Naisa Brakk (~5600m) and Spanster Brakk (height unknown). 

James Gustafson will receive $3,000 to attempt Desdemona Spire (2,150m) on the Stikine Ice Cap of Alaska. The first and only recorded ascent of Desdemona, done in 1975, was completed by Carla Firey, Paula Kregel, Craig Lingle, Jim McCarthy, and Craig McKibben. Their line was largely a glacial route with one rock pitch on the north ridge. After Gustafson contacted the first ascensionists, he realized it is unclear which peak the 1975 team climbed, due to whiteout conditions and conflicting descriptions, meaning Desdemona may be still unclimbed.

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


Contact:

Shane Johnson, Chief Marketing Officer: [email protected]

Eddie Espinosa, Community Programs Director: [email protected]

The Liminal Line: A Story from the Live Your Dream Grant

PC: Benjamin Wollant

“The line lived in a liminal space between impossible and just maybe.

Reaching the base of the splitter was an unsolved puzzle. Long runouts were certain. The bolting ban on the Bitterroot National Forest would need to be lifted. So, the south face of Mystery Dome continued to haunt the back of my mind for nearly two years, only coming to the fore every several months when I pulled up photos of the line to ask once again, 'what if?'"

Benjamin Wollant couldn’t get the possibility of the south face of Mystery Dome in the Bitterroot wilderness of Idaho out of his head. In 2020 Wollant put up Bitter Fruit (5.11-) on the west face of Mystery Dome days before he moved to Montana. Join Wollant on his journey back into the Bitterroot wilderness to put up the Liminal Line(5.11b A3 V).

The Liminal Line

Climbing out of the Comfort Zone: A Story from the Catalyst grant

Mika and Tyler descending PC: Jay Louie

Climbing is a way Jay Louie, Mika Kie Weissbuch, and Tyler Poston build strength, deal with difficulty, and rejuvenate. They climbed Castleton Tower via the North Chimney (5.9) in April 2022, thanks to the Catalyst Grant. Jay, Mika, and Tyler are members of the queer, trans, and persons of color community, with jobs in social justice fields that require significant emotional investment and labor.

"Climbing is all about community. Although you can climb on your own and grow from there, if you really want to progress, especially into more advanced climbing styles like trad, big wall, and alpine, you can't learn it alone," said Jay.

The three climbers with different skills and backgrounds came together to cultivate a safe space to pursue a desert tower climb. Dive into their story, told from three different perspectives below!

Climbing out of the Comfort Zone

Foiled by Foliage: A Story From the Live Your Dream Grant

PC: AAC Member Christian Black

“After a couple of hours, we arrived at the base of the slightly steeper climb, which was described to us using the vague phrasing: ‘...from there, I think we climbed some bushes for a little while…’. The next part of the route ended up being at least 1,000ft of dirt-filled cracks and 5.9+ bush climbing, often slinging bushes as the only protection. It felt like someone was actively fighting you while you were trying to climb, brushing branches out of your face as they snag and pull on other parts of your body simultaneously.”

After receiving the Live Your Dream grant, the team bushwacked into the British Columbia wilderness in search of good rock. Continue reading Christian Black, Hayden Wyatt, and Keenan Nowak’s trip report about their expedition to Mount Bute below!

Foiled by Foliage

Mountain Goat Movement

An AAC member gives back to his community after receiving the Live Your Dream Grant.

PC: AAC Member Greg Morrisey

Grassroots: Unearthing the Future of Climbing

By: Sierra McGivney

There is nothing like watching the sunrise over the mountains, the whole world still sleeping. Pinks and deep oranges color the sky. On clear and quiet days, the temperature is coldest near or slightly after sunrise. Warm coffee, hot chocolate, or tea is always welcome during this time. 

After years inside, these moments feel more special. All the lives lost and time stolen because of the pandemic make time spent outside invaluable to begin healing. At Mountain Goat Movement (MGM), explorers and teachers show students moments like these and the value of nature through outdoor adventures. 

Morrisey speaking at the AAC’s Annual Benefit Gala in 2018.

For ten years, Greg Morrisey was a high school teacher at Saint Peter’s Preparatory in Jersey City, NJ. He spent the school year building an outdoor education program and the summer going on expeditions. In 2017 Morrisey won the American Alpine Club’s Live Your Dream Grant and completed an unsupported 1,800-mile cycling trip with one of his fellow teachers. In addition, that expedition raised $40,000 for low-income students to come on trips with Morrisey’s outdoor education program.

“That funded about 15 kids, and it was kind of crazy,” says Morrisey.  

Morrisey was asked to speak at the AAC’s Annual Gala alongside Vanessa O'Brien that year. The grant changed his life. 

In June of 2022, Morrisey quit teaching. He took the model he created at Saint Peter’s Preparatory and turned it into Mountain Goat Movement, a program that reaches out to schools primarily in populated cities or suburban areas in New York, New Jersey, Connecticut, and Maryland, to get students into the outdoors. 

Two MGM participants in the Adirondacks, New York. PC: AAC Member Greg Morrisey

“It's easy in Colorado, Wyoming, and Upstate New York to just walk out your backyard, and go for a beautiful hike, but it's difficult in the greater New York City area so we're trying to rally a community to get in the outdoors and provide resources for anyone and everyone who wants to experience the beauty of nature,” says Morrisey. 

After teaching during COVID-19, Morrisey realized how fractured life was for young people. Students have been on an island these past couple of years and reintegrating into school and society has been a shock to their system. 

Like the true literature teacher he is, Morrisey explains that outdoor adventures are much like the hero’s tale in Western Literature. A young person goes out on an epic quest, leaving their comfort zone, to battle figurative monsters and demons and comes home transformed. Morrisey gives presentations at school about the mental health benefits that can be derived from spending time in nature. He compares it to the hero's journey: Wherever you are, high school or college, you are not that much different than the characters you are reading about. 

A MGM group on the summit of Kilimanjaro.

Unlike Outward Bound or NOLS where participants rarely see their guides again, MGM brings the student’s teachers on the trip. The idea behind MGM is to build connections outdoors and be able to bring that back to the classroom instead of having a one-off trip. In addition, Morrisey hopes that this can also start a conversation about mental health in the classroom and how venturing into the outdoors can benefit mental health for people of all ages. Morrisey goes on every trip to train the student’s teachers with the hope that they can lead their own trips using this model. 

“I think when you're on an expedition or a multi-day experience, and you break bread with people, share tents, hike, and do everything together, it's inevitable that you're going to become close,” says Morrisey. “So taking that experience and then coming back home and building off that is the most beautiful part of all this.”

PC: AAC Member Greg Morrisey

Students who might not have ever talked or met suddenly have bonded with one another and become lifelong friends. 

Last July, Morrisey took a group to Kilimanjaro. His whole group summited and watched the sunrise from the top. Everyone cried. Evidently, the softer moments in the outdoors allow for meaningful relationships to form. 

“It's been a very rewarding process of working with young people in the outdoors and teaching kids how to climb, hike, ski, and get outside,” says Morrisey. 

Participants don’t have to travel out of the country to have these experiences. Mountain Goat Movement offers domestic trips like climbing the Grand Teton or hiking all 46 high peaks in the Adirondacks. They do also offer an extensive amount of international trips to Kilimajaro, Costa Rica, and the Himalayas. 

The name behind MGM is intentional. Mountain goats are always trying to seek higher ground to survive. And just like mountain goats, whenever MGM takes participants outside, they try to achieve something higher within themselves while also respecting and protecting the land they tread on. Movement relates to being present outside, off your phone, and also moving as a community. 

PC: AAC Member Greg Morrisey

The positive effects of this type of program are evident. Morrisey has seen participants who came up through his program become ice climbers, environmental scientists, and AAC members, but most of all more confident explorers and adventurers in the outdoors and in life.  

“[the AAC] has always been super supportive and one of the reasons why we're able to start the foundation was because of the Live Your Dream grant, so I feel like the AAC has just done absolute wonders for a lot of kids in New York City without them actually realizing it,” says Morrisey. 

He is excited to expand and watch MGM grow. John Barnhardt, a filmmaker known for the Amazon Prime TV Show Born to Explore is joining MGM. He will be documenting their experiences on all seven continents for the next year. Morrisey is looking forward to having him join the team and help get the word out. 

PC: AAC Member Greg Morrisey

Just like mountain goats, we too can learn and adapt to our environment, mentally and physically. Movement in the outdoors has immense benefits. If you want to get involved or go on a trip with MGM visit their website here.

An Alaskan Dream: A Story from the Mountaineering Fellowship Fund Grant

“The remoteness, the lack of people, and the complexities all work to create an atmosphere of real adventure...The 60-degree terrain had my heart racing and coated with the perfect snow; it made for a moment I could only dream of. I stopped to hammer in a picket 30 meters up and then again at the end of the rope, where I took a seat and belayed. Glory!”

Tanner Josey's dream of an Alaskan adventure turned into a reality in May of 2021. Josey attempted to climb Mount Foraker, the third highest peak in the United States.

Dive into the details and epic photos of his trip report and be transported into the Alaska Range. Face avalanche danger, navigate crevasses, and ascend steep snow slopes alongside Josey.

Mount Foraker, AK

A Second Chance: A Story from the McNeill Nott Award

"We established a camp at 4600m and decided our best ascent option would be to use a gully on the west side of the peak to gain access to the south ridge. Leaving camp at 3 am, the gully proved to be reasonably pleasant second and easy third-class terrain. Unfortunately, by the time we reached the base of the south ridge at 9 am, a storm had moved in.

Not having access to weather forecasts at base camp, we were limited to a forecast we had received just before leaving the village several days ago, thanks to a cell phone tower constructed there two years ago. Based on that, clear skies were expected for the next two days, so we decided to dig in under a boulder and see what happened.”

Tess Smith and Alan Goldbetter set out to summit Mount Starikatchan, an unclimbed peak in India in 2022 after attempting it in 2019. Smith received the McNeill Nott award, this past year, helping to make their trip possible. Immerse yourself in Smith’s trip report and these stunning photos of India’s Zanskar Range.

Mount Starikatchan,India
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The American Alpine Club Announces 2022 Cutting Edge Grant Recipients

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PC: Priti Wright, K6 Central

March 2022

The American Alpine Club and Black Diamond Equipment are pleased to announce the 2022 Cutting Edge Grant recipients. The Cutting Edge Grant continues the Club's 100-year tradition and seeks to fund individuals planning expeditions to remote areas featuring unexplored mountain ranges, unclimbed peaks, difficult new routes, first free ascents, or similar world-class pursuits. Four recipients have been awarded a total of $37,000 for this cycle, with objectives featuring a low-impact style and leave-no-trace mentality being looked upon with favor. Black Diamond Equipment is a proud sponsor of the Cutting Edge Grant and a key partner in supporting cutting-edge alpinism.

PC: JThompson

Chantel Astorga will receive a grant for $10,000 to attempt a new route on Lunag Ri (6,895m) in Nepal. Chantel, alongside Anne Gilbert Chase & Jason Thompson will hope to establish a new line on Lunag Ri in alpine style. Chantel recently grabbed the first female solo ascent of the Cassin Ridge in under 15 hours on Denali in 2021. Anne, Jason, and Chantel established a new route on the unclimbed SW Face, Mount Nilkantha (6,500m), India in 2017.

Jerome Sullivan will receive a grant for $10,000 to attempt the first ascent of Pumari Chhish East (6,850m) in the Pakistani Karakoram. Pumari Chhish East is one of the major unclimbed technical summits of Karakoram. Located on the Hispar glacier, it presents three characteristic granite pillars and a 2,000m face. Jerome will attempt the climb alongside Martin Elias, Victor Saucede, and Jeremy Stagnetto. Recently the team climbed K13 west by the new route Harvest Moon. Jerome & Jeremy did the first ascent of the southeast ridge of Cerro Murallon (Patagonia) and the first ascent of Pyramid Peak in the Revelation Range (Alaska).

Alan Rousseau will receive $10,000 to attempt an alpine style ascent of the North Face of Jannu (7,710m) in Nepal. Given its aspect, elevation, and sheer scale (3,200 vertical meters), Jannu is considered one of the most complex alpine objectives in the world. The upper north face headwall has yet to see an alpine style ascent. Jackson Marvell will join Alan on this attempt. Jackson & Alan climbed a new route on the east face of Mount Dickey Ruth Gorge Grinder (1,600m, M7, AI6+) and repeated Trailer Park on London Tower (3,000' WI6, M6), both located in the Ruth Gorge of the Alaska Range.

Priti Wright will receive $7,000 to attempt a new route on K7 in the Pakistani Karakoram. Priti & Jeffrey Wright will attempt the unclimbed peak K7 Central (6,858m) by establishing an entirely new technical route in alpine style. During Priti and Jeff's first Karakoram expedition, they were successful in establishing the first ascent of K6 Central (7,155m) in 2020.

FA of K6 Central, Priti and Jeff Wright. PC: Jeff Wright.

The American Alpine Club has inspired and supported cutting-edge climbing achievements for over 100 years. From funding the first ascent of Mt. Logan in 1925 and the exploration of the Karakoram in 1938 to the 2006 first ascent of Nanga Parbat's Rupal Face, and the countless expeditions in between, the AAC has stood to encourage climbers to push their physical and mental limits, supported their pursuits, and celebrated their accomplishments.

The Cutting Edge Grant continues this tradition, aiming to fund advanced climbing athletes in pursuit of world-class climbing and mountaineering objectives.

The Cutting Edge Grant is sponsored by Black Diamond Equipment, whose equipment has helped climbers and alpinists to reach their summits for decades. Black Diamond Equipment is an integral partner in supporting climbers of all abilities and disciplines, with a long history of supporting climbers and their dreams through grants like the Cutting Edge Grant.

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

Contact:

Shane Johnson, Chief Marketing Officer: [email protected]
Eddie Espinosa, Community Programs Director: [email protected]

About American Alpine Club

The American Alpine Club is a 501(c)(3) charitable organization whose vision is a united community of competent climbers and healthy climbing landscapes. Together with our members, the AAC advocates for American climbers domestically and around the world; provides grants and volunteer opportunities to protect and conserve the places we climb; hosts local and national climbing festivals and events; publishes two of the world's most sought-after climbing annuals, the American Alpine Journal and Accidents in North American Climbing; cares for the world's leading climbing library and country's leading mountaineering museum; manages the Hueco Rock Ranch, New River Gorge Campground, Samuel F. Pryor Shawangunk Gateway Campground, and Grand Teton Climbers' Ranch as part of a larger lodging network for climbers; and annually gives $100,000+ toward climbing, conservation, and research grants that fund adventurers who travel the world. Learn about additional programs and become a member
at americanalpineclub.org.

Despite the Obstacles: A Story from the Live Your Dream Grant

Adapted from the 2018 Live Your Dream Grant trip report by Bria Riggs.

Sometimes the dream is adventure. Sometimes the dream is discovery. For Bria Riggs, the Live Your Dream Grant allowed her to pursue both dreams simultaneously.

Bria’s funded trip brought her to the Cordillera Blanca region of Peru, where she spent almost eight weeks mountaineering and collecting scientific field data. Working with the American Climber Science Program, Bria ventured to six different valleys within the region and glimpsed countless beautiful peaks. She summited three major peaks (Villanaraju, Pisco, and Ishinca) and attempted two others. 

This expedition was focused on high mountain environmental science, in which her team combined mountaineering and science in order to investigate the impacts of climate change on the glaciers in the region. Specifically, Bria was studying and simulating the impacts of light absorbing particles on glacial melt. She would then go on to use this data in her senior thesis at Bates College.

As both a lover of the mountains and a scientist, Bria couldn’t have asked for a better research experience or introduction into expedition life. 

Over the course of the eight-week expedition, Bria’s team ran into minimal issues. Overall they had great weather conditions for climbing and were only snowed out of one peak (Maparaju). However, an ice bridge that connects to the summit pyramid of Chopicalqui kept them from attempting that peak, which would have been their highest peak of the expedition. To Bria, it felt ironic that climate change is what kept them from collecting their data on Chopicalqui and also kept some of their team from summiting Tocllaraju due to glacial recession and an increase in crevasse danger. 

Unfortunately, Bria  tore three ligaments in her ankle two weeks into the expedition on their first big climb up Andevite. However, Bria continued to climb as much as she could throughout the remaining six weeks but was unable to summit Urus Este and Yanapacha. While this was upsetting, her expedition was still wildly successful in her own eyes. Bria climbed to a new personal elevation record, collected great field data for her thesis, and fell in love with the people, culture, and landscapes of the Cordillera Blanca. The peaks that she was able to summit were incredible and absolutely humbling. 

Bria remembers coming over the crest to the summit of Villanaraju and being filled with joy and wonder. After weeks of frustration and pain from her injury, she had finally reached a summit and was so overwhelmed at that moment. Bria continued to have this same feeling with all of the team’s other summits, solidifying the fact that this is why she climbs and is fighting to save such beautiful places. 

Bria Reflected: “This expedition has had a tremendously positive impact on my climbing career. Not only did it allow me to climb bigger peaks than I ever have, but the experience also taught me a lot about expedition life. While it would have been great if everything had gone perfectly smoothly, in some ways, I am happy I had challenges and setbacks. I think my experiences showed me that in mountaineering, as in scientific research, there are always obstacles and despite these obstacles, I still loved being in the mountains and climbing for the full eight weeks. As a climber, this expedition opened up my eyes to the amazing life of climbing more than any of my previous experiences. Now, more than ever, I am excited to plan my next adventures and attempt to climb bigger and more technical peaks. 

“I have a lot of ski mountaineering experience, but my time in Peru has allowed me to further enhance my rope, crevasse rescue, and overall glacial travel skills. By solely mountaineering, this experience allowed me to focus on the ascent more than the descent as opposed to my previous skiing adventures. I am also more excited about climbing bigger peaks with technical routes.  This expedition was a perfect stepping stone for me to learn more skills and get ready to chase bigger climbs in bigger ranges.”

For Bria, chasing her dreams of discovery and adventure opened her up to the possibilities of future dreams. That is what the Live Your Dream Grant is all about. 

The Live Your Dream Grant is powered by The North Face.

Off Route but Overjoyed: A Story from the Live Your Dream Grant

Adapted from the 2021 Live Your Dream Grant trip report by Mason Risley.

Horses graze as the sun sets over the Tetons. Our route traverses from the right most prominence (Teewinot Mountain) left along the skyline to Nez Perce which is in the forward most mountain in the center of the skyline.

The Grand Traverse is a committing objective that climbs through the highest mountains of the Teton Range: The Traverse was first done in 1963 by Allen Steck, Dick Long, and John Evans going from south to north. Most modern ascents are done north to south and this was what my climbing partner Cvetomir Dimov and I did. The sequence of peaks traveled are: Teewinot Mountain (12,330’), Peak 11,840, East Prong (12,055’), Mount Owen (12,933’), the Grand Teton (13,775’), the Middle Teton (12,809’), the South Teton (12,519’), Ice Cream Cone (12,405’), Gilkey Tower (12,320’), Spalding Peak (12,240’), Cloudveil Dome (12,026’), and finally Nez Perce (11,901’) before dropping back down into Garnet Canyon and returning to the Lupine Meadows trailhead. All told, the trip we planned would be twelve peaks, nearly 13,000 feet of elevation gain, and 14 miles of travel. 

My partner Cvetomir and I decided to make the attempt over the course of three days because we had not done the route before and wanted to give ourselves the best chance for success. 

This objective pushed our physical and mental limits and left us feeling stoked, stronger and more accomplished in our alpine climbing skills. This route and other alpine climbs like it demand excellent endurance, strong climbing abilities, solid judgment, and a dialed gear system that keeps weight to a minimum. In addition, route finding skills and the ability to recognize and correct mistakes quickly is key. Experiences above treeline such as the Traverse stay with you, make you stronger and more versed in alpine climbing. 

The couple hiccups we ran into each day of the traverse cost us some time and in one case a rope, but fortunately nothing else. The story of our attempt on the Grand Traverse is filled with many close-calls, mistakes, and wasted-time, but that is not unique for this kind of adventure. Nothing ever goes as planned in the alpine, so the obstacles that we encountered were pretty par for the course. But as we learned, pushed through fear, and mitigated risk, the stoke just kept increasing. 

We may have found ourselves off route a few times, but that only made the taste of each summit all the sweeter.

Day 1 Moving Time: 14 hours 17 minutes

0345 hours Sunday, August 15th, 2021. The alarm goes off and I embrace the sore grogginess that comes with getting 4 hours of sleep.  

Cvetomir and I had just done a 5.8 warm up climb in Cascade Canyon called Guide’s Wall the day before. Though we cruised the route in good time, it was a solid day of activity which started at 0600 in the morning to get permits for the Grand Traverse. Due to an incoming storm forecast to hit the Tetons that Wednesday—the end of our 3 day weather window—we didn’t have any time for a rest day before the push. 

We started up the seemingly endless switchbacks by headlamp leaving the van at 0420. 

Gearing up for the sufferfest.

Setback #1: Our packs were as light as we could have managed, each of us carrying about 33lbs of climbing gear, a 50m half rope each, food, layers, and a sleep system that would nominally allow us to stay comfortable enough to actually get some shut eye while on route. As dawn approached however, something we hadn’t expected was becoming visible with the early morning dawn: rain clouds, and the not too distant sound of thunder. Right around dawn we started to feel spitting rain. We sought shelter under the few remaining trees before we passed above treeline on the way to Teewinot—around 10,600 feet. We sat down for a moment, looked at the sky and decided to wait it out. 

With half an hour wasted, we started up the remaining 1,600 feet of 4th class and low 5th class terrain as the sun began to appear past the clouds that had been hanging over us. 

Setback #2: The Traverse comes with many challenges, one of which was getting water on route. There are only a few reliable locations on the Traverse where one can get water: 1) the Owen snow field; 2) the snow melt from the boulder field at the lower saddle; and 3) sometimes a small drip that can be formed from snow melt at the saddle between the Middle and South Tetons. Given the scarcity of the precious resource we stopped at the first sight of a slow drip coming off some ice. It was still early morning and the drip of water was painfully slow, but both Cvet and I had already drank a solid liter or more of water at that point gaining the first 3,000 feet of elevation. We filtered up a couple liters of water each and kept on moving. Unfortunately this water recon cost us another 15 to 20 minutes of valuable time. 

Cvetomir Dimov and Mason Risley on the summit of Teewinot Mountain with the Grand Teton and Mt Owen in background.

Setback #3: While Cvet and I were moving up the Teewinot we were passed by another climber who had no backpack or gear and was merely doing his cardio for the week. He said he had been up there many times. So when he passed us we watched him go towards a gully on the northern side of the east face (climbers right). We assumed he was on the standard route and decided to follow his path, although he quickly went out of sight. Upon reaching the gully he had passed through, we realized we were in steeper terrain and the path we were on was taking us off route. After some tenuous scrambling, we quickly reached the exposed summit of the Teewinot around 1000 hours. This was the first, but not the last, time we would head off-route. 

Setback #4: From the Teewinot we made quick work to gain Peak 11,840. At this point we crossed paths with another team also doing the Traverse over 3 days: Jackson, an arborist from Seattle, and Naphun, who was living in Lander, WY working for NOLS. Jackson and Naphun had a single 50m rope and the route beta indicated one needed a 60m rope to reach the ground on the last rappel off peak 11,840. Cvet and I were climbing with double 50m ropes, so we joined teams and rappelled off the west face in two raps: a single 50m rope followed by a double 50m rope passing the last rap station. In hindsight we should have done 3 raps as the rope got stuck when being pulled because we combined the second and third rap. At this point we ran into another group of climbers also doing the Traverse: On several other occasions during the Traverse we crossed paths with their team and worked together to figure out the route. 

Looking back at the East Prong and Koven Col from the base of Mt. Owen. We down climbed the exposed interface between the snow and shadowed rock face.

Near Miss #1: Scrambling up to the East Prong was pretty straight forward, however descending the East Prong into the Koven Col presented a tenuous problem of down climbing a wet rock face adjacent to a hard frozen 70 degree snow slope. The rock had no viable protection and a fall here would result in a quick slide down the snow slope to one’s death in a boulder field 600 feet below. Cvet and I gingerly soloed down the wet rock and on several occasions had to do foot jams in the gap between the ice and the rock. We had brought a singular glacier ax but the summer névé was so hard frozen that crampons and at least one tech tool would have been necessary to traverse it with any appreciable level of security. 

Setback #5: We scrambled up another several hundred feet from the Koven Col to the east facing Owen snowfields. Jackson and Naphun were ahead of us and had dropped their packs and soloed up the north east face of Owen. Cvetomir and I refilled our water then scouted out where to go next to gain the Koven Chimney route to summit Owen. On the southern side of the Owen summit block we found a notch leading to the west side of Owen’s south ridge with some rap anchors. This gully was our descent from Owen to reach the gunsight notch separating Owen’s south ridge from the Grandstand and north ridge of the Grand. We dropped our packs here and decided to solo up the 5.4 Koven Route which looked easy from where we were standing. However, Jackson and Naphun now came back into sight down-climbing the lower stretch of the Koven Route, they looked uncomfortable and sketched out so Cvet and I decided to bring one 50m rope and rap the route as opposed to down-climb it, which also gave us the option of roping up if we felt we needed it. We soloed up to the top of Owen and at the final summit block missed the small gash that gains the final chimney to the proper summit.  We walked to the north side of the summit block which provided an extremely exposed and unprotected mantle move to the summit. Backing off of this particular move we turned back, preparing to go down the route and keep moving towards the Grandstand when we found the correct chimney and gained the summit.

Awesome bivy site at 12,300 feet on the south ridge of Owen. The North Ridge of the Grand Teton beckons.

Near Miss #2: Returning to our packs after a few raps down the Koven Route we did a double 50m rap down what was probably the worst and most sketchy rap I had ever done. The rappel was through a choss filled death gully and the entire time I was going down I was terrified of the rope knocking a basketball sized block down on top of me. As soon as I was off rappel I ran far out of the path of the gully as Cvet came down knocking rocks down as he went. We continued navigating the terrain towards the gunsight and found a bivy site on the Owen side of the notch. It was about 7pm at this point, we still had about 2 hours of light left but we were both exhausted and decided to bivy there that night as opposed to getting up to the base of the north ridge that evening. This was the right call as the next morning it took us a solid 3 hours from that bivy just to reach the Grandstand which involved several double rope raps into the gunsight followed by a couple of pitches and more scrambling to reach the Grandstand. 

During this first day due to the amount of exertion from the elevation gain and altitude, both Cvetomir and I drank about 6 Liters and were still struggling to stay hydrated. We topped off 3 L of water each from the Owen snowfield with the hope of having 1L for dinner and breakfast and 2L of water for the North Ridge of the Grand the next day. 

Day 2 Moving Time: 13 hours 44 minutes

Starting out from our bivy spot at a leisurely 0640 we moved to the top of the gunsight and proceeded to do three full 50m raps to the bottom before I led up the first pitch out of the notch towards the Grandstand. Cvet swung leads and took point on the second pitch which was fun mellow climbing up large holds on golden granite. Scrambling the remaining several hundred feet of elevation brought us to the top of the Grandstand and the start of the North Ridge. Cvet and I swung leads on the ridge.  We reached a large chossy shelf and decided to take the Italian Crack variation of the ridge as opposed to the classic Chock Stone Chimney. This decision was made in the interest of saving time but ended up likely taking more time to complete than had we stuck with the original route plan. 

Setback #6: We had done our route research for the standard Chock Stone Chimney and didn’t have a solid grasp on where the Italian Crack variation was. Looking at topo’s and route beta for the Italian Crack we thought we saw the correct route. Jackson and Naphun also arrived and between the 4 of us, looking at the same topo and different guide book sources we had brought, we decided we had identified the correct line for the start, which should have been a 5.5 face up to a 5.6 roof. In reality our respective teams put up some interesting variations to the north ridge…neither variation is recommended. Because Jackson and Naphun were moving faster than us we let them lead up the route and figured we would follow them. It cost about 1.5 hours of time and seeing Jackson struggle on their line we took another line to the immediate left of theirs. 

Not The Italian Cracks! Grand Teton North Ridge Jackson-Naphun variation in red and the Cvetomir-Mason variation in yellow. 5.10b; Not recommended.

Cvetomir was taking the lead for this pitch and started up a small rock pillar to gain the face. Moving up the face the terrain quickly entered 5.7 and 5.8 territory before reaching a roof move which we both felt was around the 5.10a/b grade. We were very much off route and our only option was to continue up, as bailing from our position would have been more time consuming and dangerous than proceeding. I took the next lead up bulging 5.7 terrain trending left to a small alcove of dark rock. Out of rope and most of my pro, I finagled a solid anchor out of micro cam, a nut, and a tricam, and brought Cvet up. Cvetomir launched up the next pitch which was a grade more mellow and brought us to the second ledge of the north face. This allowed us to traverse west to resume the proper N. Ridge route. 

I took the next lead up the first set of chimneys trending left then around to a dual chimney system both of which had a chock stone in them. I went to the left for a full 50m pitch. Cvet swung leads and continued up the chimney for another cruxy chock stone feature topping out at a field of steep boulders in 4th class terrain at the top of the chimney. At this point we put the ropes in our packs and scrambled to the summit. Getting off route cost us valuable time and resulted in us taking 8 hours to complete the north ridge.

Despite being on the summit so late in the day, we still were stuck behind a couple parties rapping off after completing the Exum Ridge, they said there were 7 or 8 parties doing the Exum Ridge that day. We finished the raps off the Owen Spalding (OS) route at 1950 and started down the OS gully towards the lower saddle. It took us 1 hour to get down from the upper saddle to the lower saddle and during which time a strong wind and rain storm rolled through with gusts up to 35mph and intermittent heavy rain. We found a boulder bivy spot near the lower saddle water source and passed out for the night after another long day. Neither Cvetomir or I had any appetite and had to force down our dinner rations before turning in. 

Approximate line of route taken on North Ridge of the Grand. The middle section we were off route but made it go. The actual Italian Cracks route goes much further left on the northern aspect of the ridge.

Day 3 Moving Time: 15 hours 15 minutes

The alarm went off at 0430 after another unrestful night of tossing, turning, waking up due to occasional rain pours, gusting winds and later by loud hikers ascending the OS route. As we woke up and looked down from the lower saddle we saw what seemed to be upwards of 30 to 40 headlamps hiking up from the moraines and to the OS gully. I woke up with a decent appetite and ate my breakfast ration and the dessert I meant to eat the night before but couldn't. We forced ourselves to drink a full liter of water and filtered another 2L each before starting up the Middle Teton at 0555. We reached the apex of the notch separating the Bonnie pinnacle from the north ridge of the Middle Teton at 0645 and simul-climbed the North Ridge up to the crux 5.6 crack pitch at the apex of the black dike running through the center of the Middle. 

Setback #7: We reached the summit of the Middle at 0815 and had good momentum going. Jackson and Naphun also caught up with us on the Middle Teton and we started down together. We promptly botched the descent and instead of heading towards the west end of the summit and the correct 3rd class descent, we went due south attracted by rap gear. We did a couple of 50m raps before realizing we were completely off course and cliffed out to our south and eastern aspects. We climbed back up to the summit of the Middle and found the correct descent path but wasted a good 2 hours in the process.  

Cvetomir and I scrambled up the South Teton which was just 3rd and 4th class terrain and then dropped down to the base of the Ice Cream Cone. The Ice Cream Cone had a fun 5.7 pitch which led up to the exceptionally exposed summit spike. We thought we were on easy street for the rest of the day with nothing but 4th class scrambling along the ridge, however route finding issues and the occasional 5.4 to 5.6 X rated move on these exposed ridges kept our progress fairly slow and methodical. 

Peak Number 7 - Cvetomir and Mason on the Summit of the South Teton

Near Miss #3: Between the Ice Cream Cone and Gilkey Tower we opted to rappel down to a notch as opposed to soloing up and over the first gendarme protecting the summit. Cvet saw a rap anchor, I looked over the cliff down into the notch and it didn’t look that bad, but once I rapped into it I found myself on another death slope of hard summer snow terminating in a boulder field 1,000 feet below me. I stayed on rappel as I climbed up the notch to get off the ice and onto chossy, loose death blocks to regain the notch. I should have yelled up to Cvet to go a different way but was too focused on not dying. 

Looking east from the summit of the South Teton, the remaining obstacles for the traverse: Ice Cream Cone and the Gilkey Tower in the foreground, Cloudveil and Nez Perce in upper center. Spalding peak is hidden by Gilkey Tower. The left sloping snow field peaking out from behind the Ice Cream Cone is part of the death gully where the rappel went poorly and we lost a rope.

He followed down on the rappel and did the same. I moved as carefully as I could on the steep loose rock to prevent sending a boulder down onto Cvet. Cvet dropped his belay plate at the rap and came down on a munter hitch. Once off rappel he attempted to pull the rope but due to having to climb up from the ice slope and the twists in the rope from the munter hitch, the rope didn’t budge. We looked at each other and in about 2 seconds both agreed to split the cost of the rope and abandon it, figuring it would easily cost us an hour or two to recover, precious time which we couldn’t afford to lose.  We were climbing on two 50m half ropes and still had one more 50m half rope if we needed to rappel anything else, which we did later on Cloudveil dome.  

After spending hours of solo down climbing and scrambling the 4th and low 5th class terrain on the ridge to Cloudveil dome we reached it’s summit by 1550. We were both fairly tired and I was mentally fatigued more than anything else: being hyper focused while soloing exposed terrain for hours on end really drains you. 

Cvet and I looked at Nez Perce. We looked at our watches. We looked at the sky. 

Setback #8: Clouds were rolling in from the west, we were still at least two solid hours away from the summit of Nez Perce and we only had one of our ropes left. We decided to get off Cloudveil Dome and descend. 

Having successfully hit 11 of the 12 peaks on the Traverse, and survived with minimal gear on the mountains for 3 days, we were satisfied with our effort. That was the right call. Forty minutes into our descent a thunderstorm rolled in with lightning hitting the ridge we were just on and rain pummeling us. 

We got back to the van at Lupine Meadows just as the last light was fading around 2115. By 2200 hours the storm front rolled in with strong winds and heavy rain for the next three days. A solid foot of snow dumped on the top of the Grand with that storm shutting the upper mountains down for the next week. Cvetomir and I met up with Jackson and Naphun the next morning having a late breakfast at Bubba’s in Jackson, celebrating our successful traverse and thinking about the next climb.

Data for Future Success

The main things I wish I had done beforehand was more route research, which possibly could have prevented the slow down on Owen, getting off-route on the Italian Cracks, and descending the Middle. It is a complicated environment and it’s easy to be tempted into following an obvious line which leads you off-route, or a tat anchor that sends you on a dangerous rappel, or another climbing party which may or may not be on the route you intended to follow.

Even with all of the setbacks and near misses, we learned a lot. Mistakes are what give us the data for future success. Making tough gametime decisions in the mountains just sharpened our craving and capacity for safer, more streamlined, epic adventures.

Elevation profile of the Traverse.

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A Trip To Remember: A Story From the Catalyst Grant

Adapted from the 2021 trip report written by Adrien Costa.

The Catalyst Grant awards funds to individuals and teams who face barriers in accessing the climbing community and identify with an underrepresented group.


I free-wheeled down the tree-lined road, shaking out the legs that had just taken me up and over Tioga Pass from Lee Vining on yet another 5+ hour training ride. Up high, much higher than the tallest pines, loomed the world’s most famous granite wall. And up on El Cap, one could make out tiny dots stubbornly inching their way up, giving massive scale to the wall. At night, the dots turned into a constellation of stars, almost indistinguishable from the night sky. How I longed to be one of those dots, to feel the air and the wind below my feet, to see the trees in the meadow below as little crowns of broccoli, to have no concerns more pressing than scaling this cliff. But I had other things to do with my life. It was only 2014. My dream of becoming a professional road cyclist was turning closer to reality every day. All I had to do was keep pedaling. This improbable, half-insane climbing desire could find a resting place, for now, in the deepest corners of my brain.  

Seven years later, I whipped my truck into the small pullout below the boulder and scree field leading up to El Cap’s shorter, but ridiculously steep, southeast face. The clock reads 4:46 AM. I step out and stand on one leg of bone and flesh, the other of metal and hydraulics. I am no longer a professional road cyclist. I no longer have two legs. Looking up at the dark  outline of El Cap, I wonder whose life I am now living. I sure as hell never expected mine to look like this.  

The universe has this rather bothersome tendency to remind us that the only constant is  change, the only sure thing is that nothing is certain. I learned this the hard way. Us humans fight this, often subconsciously. We try to fight change by controlling everything we can, including our accomplishments and our material possessions. It can quickly become dangerously difficult to parse the imagined from the real, the tangible from the illusion.

I felt that I needed an adventure to shake myself out of the daze of daily life I found myself trapped in. I wanted to see if I could find a sliver of peace or wisdom up there. But I mostly just wanted to simplify my existence. It would be just me, my gear, and this rock. No illusions. Only, as I was about to find out, a whole lot of work.  

Climbing a full-length, Grade VI route on El Capitan, by myself, was my big goal for the second half of my rock climbing season. I see and feel, on a daily basis, how much assumption goes on in the climbing world around ability and disability. I wanted to shatter this paradigm; to prove that, with the right support, anybody can accomplish anything they put their heart and soul into. I wanted this climb to be a call for much-needed inclusion and open-mindedness in our climbing community.  

For me personally, this climb represented a big stepping-stone in my climbing, moving towards more committing, more involved multi-day objectives as I seek to continue developing myself as a versatile climber, comfortable in all media.  

Zodiac, Adrien’s original plan, was too wet.

I finished shuttling my two loads to the base just as the sun was rising. My original plan was to climb Zodiac (C3), a 16-pitch route of moderate, clean aid that has frequently been referred to as a good introduction to “real aid” on El Cap. But a recent storm had soaked the first few pitches of the route, and I didn’t want to start a 4-day odyssey soaking wet. Luckily, I had a topo and gear for the nearby Tangerine Trip (5.9 C3+), which appeared steep enough to be completely dry. Between its consistent overhang, a huge traverse on the fifth pitch, and the fact that this route sees a bit less traffic than Zodiac, it was all starting to feel much more committing, and exciting, than my original plan.

I decided to start the trip via the first pitch of Lost in America, shown as “C3F Bad Fall” in the  topo, which proved to be one of the cruxes of the route. I built my first anchor, cloved off a couple pieces low, and started up the pitch. My last piece of good protection was only 20 feet off the ground was well aware that blowing any piece on this first pitch could result in a ground fall. Very gingerly I inched my way up, breathing a huge sigh of relief upon regaining moderate terrain. I looked at my phone and realized that close to two hours had gone by. The next couple leads took some time as I got back in the rhythm of “real” aid climbing. I got my ropes fixed to the top of pitch 4, and having found a small ledge system below, decided to bivy there. It was a bit demoralizing to be just a couple hundred feet off the ground after a very long  day of work, but I set my alarm for early and tried to enjoy the opportunity to rest.  

The next morning, I broke down the portaledge, sipped my coffee, pooped in a homemade WAG bag, and jugged and hauled to my high point. Here, I finally joined Tangerine Trip proper for the committing 160-foot leftward traverse pitch. The lead was fine, albeit long, but rapping the lead line, and then cleaning the pitch, was as demanding as leading itself. The next couple pitches went well, but still slower than I would’ve liked.  

I forced down some plain ramen for dinner, and was stoked to be able to hang my prosthetic leg with me inside my small portaledge’s fly to charge its battery for the night. This is something I have to keep tabs on during any overnight adventure, and is something I have paid the cost of being complacent with.  

By the end of the following day, I was really starting to feel the stress simmering. A stuck tag line had cost me a lot of time and mental energy earlier in the day. I was also running out of water and knew I needed to top out the next day. But in order to do this, I’d need to fix one more pitch in the dark. The issue was that my headlamp was running out of juice, and my spare batteries were already dead. The stress and pressure was compounding. I had to act.

So I set off, keeping my headlamp as dim as possible, and hoping I wouldn’t get led astray. I tried to climb as efficiently as possible. It turns out that this pitch is also the route’s chossiest. It’s hard to believe there could be any loose rock up there, but I found it in spades as I quested upwards, always upwards, into the dark.  

This was by far the mental crux of the climb. I felt so alone, so vulnerable, so close yet so far from the top, with very little margin for error. I cannot describe the relief that swept through my body once I could faintly make out the line of bolts of the anchor.  

I tucked into my sleeping bag just before midnight, but was stoked on a good day of work, and confident that I’d be standing on top the next day.  

I definitely had not anticipated the nonstop focus that I had to endure for four days straight. It wore me down, but by the last day I found a good rhythm, and started letting my body move on autopilot through the steps. Stack haul line. Stack tag line. Set up lead anchor. Select gear for pitch. Put on GriGri and Microtrax. Climb the pitch. Tag up anchor and haul kit. Fix lead and haul lines. Rap the pitch. Release the bags. Clean the anchor. Jug and clean the pitch. Haul. And repeat. And repeat. And repeat.

While free-climbing on the last couple pitches, I finally let myself have dreams of pizza.  Touching the tree on top was surreal, and walking felt foreign, but more pressing at that moment were water, food, and figuring out how to get my 100+ lbs of gear, sprawled into various growing piles, off the mountain in one load.  

What ensued was hell. With my haulbag on my back, a light backpack on my chest, a trekking pole in one hand and my portaledge in another, I stumbled and yardsaled my way down the East Ledges descent. I broke my prosthetic foot on the descent—under so much weight, the carbon fiber splintered from nothing more than a little trip. I could still walk (or hobble), but I could hear the fibers crackling with every step.  

Four hours after leaving the tree on top, I walked in disbelief into the El Cap picnic area. The Trip was complete. 

Looking back, I realize that aid soloing is a lot like pressing the fast-forward button on life. Every minute action, every decision you make has consequences that are felt, and must be dealt with, without delay. And these consequences range from a minor inconvenience, and time wasted, to time not really existing anymore for you. The constant low grade stress for days on end was exhausting, and yet there was no room for fear, nor any time to sit back. Only action could push my ropes further up the wall. Perhaps this is indeed an apt metaphor for life.  

I have also come to realize that we have no option but to embrace change and make the most of the circumstances we are presented with. Life has taken me in directions I could never have envisioned as that fresh-faced boy riding his bike through the Valley. But by adapting and trusting the process, I was able to become, for a short little while, one of those tiny dots on that big, big wall.  

A Note of Thanks:

To see the AAC come out with the Catalyst Grant, promoting inclusion and diversity in a sport which needs it so desperately, was incredibly meaningful and motivating. I deeply value what results when we invite more diverse folks into our community. When we do, we strengthen and deepen the human connections we share while recreating in the natural world we all love.  

And I can honestly say that the folks at High-Fives Foundation are changing lives. Their work greatly decreases the barriers to adaptive athletes’ participation in our favorite outdoor sports. Having worked in the adaptive sports world, I cannot overstate the importance of the sense of agency, independence, and community that sport can bring an individual, and how these experiences can transform the course of someone’s life. Rock on!

Researching Glacial Recession in Chilean Patagonia: A Story from the AAC Research Grant

Bernardo Fjord and one of the main locations for Scott’s research. Pictured are Bernardo Glacier (lower left), the refugio or cabin (lower center) and Lautaro Volcano, the highest point in Bernard O’Higgins National Park (top center).

Scott Braddock was awarded the AAC’s Research Grant in 2019 to study glacial recession in Patagonia. Specifically, Scott and his team were studying the Southern Patagonian Icefield. With the Southern Patagonian Icefield contributing a disproportionate amount of ice loss relative to the size of the icefield when compared with other mountain glaciers around the world, better understanding the mechanisms for tidewater glacier retreat in this region are critical for projections of future ice loss. Below is a quick summary of his project, and a report on the initial findings. 

Why This Research? Why now?

Like most glaciers around the world, the Southern Patagonian Icefield (SPI) is retreating in the face of rising atmospheric and ocean temperatures. The SPI is particularly susceptible to a changing climate because of its relative proximity to the equator and the fact that it is made up of low-elevation alpine and tidewater glaciers that are highly sensitive to changes in temperature and precipitation. Past studies have shown that ice mass loss from the Southern Patagonian Icefield contributes a large amount of water to global sea level rise, especially relative to the size of the icefield, with rates increasing in recent decades. However, how quickly the SPI is continuing to respond to warmer conditions and the primary mechanisms behind ice mass loss remain important questions to be answered. Scott’s team is attempting to investigate these very questions.

The research boat, the Aguilaf (bottom left), in Bernardo Fjord. In the background is Bernardo Glacier.

The glaciers of the SPI are located in Chile’s largest protected area, Bernard O’Higgins National Park (BONP), which hosts the largest known population of the endangered huemul deer–a species whose health is connected with recently-deglaciated habitat. Under the supervision of Coporacion Nacional Forestral (CONAF), limited in situ research exists in the BONP due to the frequent inclement weather, poor access, and only a handful of CONAF park guards and scientists to protect and manage a large area. Given the results of studies highlighting the accelerated retreat of the SPI in the past several decades, further work is necessary to better constrain estimates of ice loss and glacier stability as well as impacts on biodiversity in BONP.

The Grant Funded Trip & Moving Beyond Covid

AAC Research Grant recipient, Scott Braddock, in front of Calluqueo Glacier, San Lorenzo Mountain, Chile.

In October 2019, supported by research grants from the American Alpine Club, Churchill Foundation, and the Geological Society of America, Scott’s team traveled to Chilean Patagonia to sample ocean water in contact with several glaciers to understand how this interaction may influence rapid retreat of ice in the region. The team sampled water temperature and salinity at the surface and to depths up to 10 m and collected data on surface reflectance, suspended sediment and plankton in front of two tidewater glaciers, Bernardo and Témpano, in Bernard O’Higgins National Park, Chile. Results show a clear boundary between fresh glacial runoff and warm ocean water around 6 m depth close to the terminus of Témpano Glacier. 

Kristin Schild (left) and Scott Braddock (right) conducting CTD sampling in Témpano fjord. Photo by Fernando Iglesias.

In coordination with sampling efforts, Scott’s team set up time-lapse cameras overlooking both glaciers to track iceberg movement and try to observe sediment plumes and surface currents. Additionally, they witnessed one of the earliest-known glacial lake outburst floods (GLOF) in a summer season at Bernardo Glacier. 

In witnessing this event, it is clear that to fully understand this dynamic ice-ocean system, we need longer duration measurements to capture both episodic events (GLOFs) and persistent forcing (ocean warming). To aid in long-term monitoring of ice/ocean interactions and GLOF events in this region, Scott’s team facilitated an agreement between three organizations participating in this project—Coporacion Nacional Forestral (CONAF), Round River Conservation Studies (RRCS), and UMaine Ice/Ocean group to continue this research in the coming years by sharing logistical support, scientific equipment, and data. 

In the context of Covid, the collaborative nature of this project has been crucial to its continuity. The project included team members from three organizations and many backgrounds coming together to work in such a remote, challenging environment. The glaciology portion of this research project was designed and led by Dr. Kristin Schild, University of Maine School of Earth and Climate Sciences. The marine biology part of the project was designed and led by Raúl Pereda, a Marine Biologist with CONAF. Logistics, help with the science, and local knowledge and expertise were provided by Felidor Paredes, CONAF Park Guard and Fernando Iglesias Letelier, Chilean Program Director for RRCS.

Team members Raúl Pereda (left) and Kristin Schild (right) install a time lapse camera in Témpano Fjord to monitor sediment plumes and ice berg movement. Photo by Scott Braddock.

Like most international research, COVID has disrupted the US team’s return to Patagonia for the last two years. However, to keep the project moving forward, Scott’s team will ship equipment to Chile so that team members from CONAF can continue taking measurements of ocean water in front of these tide water glaciers to monitor how ocean properties are influencing glacial retreat of the Southern Patagonian Icefield as well as impacts retreating glaciers might have on the marine biology. 

A Snapshot of the Science Behind Glacial Recession:

The speed at which glaciers of the Southern Patagonian Icefield (SPI) flow could be driven in two distinct ways: from the top-down, or the bottom-up (Figure 2a-e). How fast the glacier moves or flows influences how quickly it retreats and thins over longer time scales.

In the top-down scenario, warm air temperatures melt the glacier ice and, when combined with precipitation, the glaciers are inundated with liquid water (Figure 2a). This water flows under the glacier, lubricating the interface between the glacier and the bedrock, and accelerates the speed at which the glacier moves due to a decrease in friction (Figure 2b).

In the bottom-up scenario, the warm ocean water melts all contacting terminus ice, undercutting the glacier at the waterline and facilitates iceberg calving, or breaking off more icebergs (Figure 2c,d). This removal of terminus ice decreases the amount of ice that the glacier has to move, thereby also leading to increased glacier velocities due to a decrease in back pressure (Figure 2e). 

Figure 2: Schematic illustrating the two end-member scenarios of glacier acceleration, top-down (a,b) and bottom-up (c-e). In top-down acceleration, water from melting ice and precipitation pools in crevasses and topographic lows on the glacier surface (a) until weaknesses in the ice are exploited and water flows between the glacier and glacier bed (b) reducing friction and leading to glacier acceleration. Bottom-up acceleration is initiated at the glacier terminus with warm ocean water melting away the glacier at the waterline, leading to an undercut terminus (c), which initiates subsequent mass loss through calving (d). This decrease in mass reduces the back pressure (e) leading to glacier acceleration.

While two distinct scenarios are presented above, a combination of mechanisms most often controls glacier acceleration. For example, recent studies in Greenland have shown that ocean warming has been the controlling mechanism in glacier instability while in Svalbard both ocean and air temperatures appear to balance each other in driving glacier change.

However, how quickly the Southern Patagonian Icefield is responding to warmer conditions and the primary mechanisms behind ice mass loss remain important questions to be addressed, that Scott’s project will hopefully illuminate over time.

“The research grant awarded by the American Alpine Club and other organizations made it possible for our team to collect preliminary data, create working relationships with CONAF and RRCS to ensure we are working alongside Chilean colleagues, and for us to apply for additional grants that will ensure this work continues for many years. We will be excited to share future results and info in the coming years as we finally are able to return to Chile and continue this important science in a part of the world that is so challenging to reach and conduct research. ”
— Scott Braddock