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Pull Focus: Behind the Scenes with Sophi Rutherford

Sophi Rutherford in action during the making of Dear Mother. PC: Cody Kaemmerlan.

Sophi Rutherford is the recipient of the first ever Pull Focus Grant, a grant that provides historically underserved outdoor filmmakers the opportunity to intern with a premier photo/video production studio, Louder Than Eleven, and advance their careers in this notoriously competitive space. Through this paid internship, she served as the assistant director on the upcoming film Dear Mother, a transracial adoption story, following the climber Cody Kaemmerlan as he grapples with his identity and ultimately travels to Korea to meet his birth parents. In this profile on Sophi, Holly Yu Tung Chen uncovers Sophi’s artistic philosophy, the importance of telling transracial adoption stories, and the pull to hide behind a camera. Dive in to get a glimpse at the process behind making Dear Mother, and get to know Sophi Rutherford as an emerging filmmaker.


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.


Learn More

The Pull Focus Grant

Emerging Filmmaker: Sophi Rutherford

Film Subject: Cody Kaemmerlan

Writer: Holly Yu Tung Chen

Louder Than Eleven

Climb United

The Pull Focus Grant Was Made Possible By:


Navajo Rising: An Indigenous Emergence Story

Shiprock (Tsé Bit a í, “winged rock”) rises over 1,500 feet above the desert floor of the Navajo Nation in San Juan County, New Mexico (Diné, Pueblos, Ute lands). Shiprock was a sought-after summit during the late 1930s, until the first ascent was done in 1939 by David Brower and Sierra Club team. It marks one of the first times bolts were placed for protection in the history of North American climbing. However, the rock formation is highly sacred to the Navajo people, having historical and religious significance. In 1966, the Navajo Nation banned all climbing on their lands, including Shiprock.

by Aaron Mike

This Indigenous People’s Day, we’re reposting a beautifully written essay by Navajo climber Aaron Mike that we published in 2019.


Acknowledging the roots and conceptualizations of the outdoor activities that we so passionately pursue enriches our participation and ties us to the land, as well as to one another. When we view our industry through a historical lens, we inevitably hear about John Muir, Sir Edmund Hillary, Royal Robbins, and other giants of outdoor recreation. We revere them based on their successes and physical accomplishments. There is one similarity between them that is rarely mentioned: the entirety of their recreational pursuits took place on ancestral homelands of Indigenous Peoples. The Miwok and Piute resided amongst the majestic granite walls of what is now Yosemite National Park. The Havasupai and Hualapai cultivated the areas of the Grand Canyon. The Shoshone, Bannock, Blackfoot, Crow, Flathead, Gros Ventre, and the Nez Perce tribes inhabited what is now Grand Teton National Park. The history and heritage of Indigenous peoples as an inherent part of the lands on which we recreate is a topic that must be part of the conversation if we are to achieve a responsible, sustainable, and inclusive industry. Especially today, this topic is paramount not only because it enhances the care and stewardship of the lands we all love, but also because it is a statement against the systematic dehumanization of a people. 

Diné Bahane’, the Navajo creation story, tells of the journey through three worlds to the fourth world, where the Navajo people now reside. The story details chaos and drama as the Diné, or “Holy people,” moved through Black World, which contained no light; Blue World, which contained light; and Yellow World, which contained great rivers. Eventually, in the 4th world, White World, the Diné would assume human form after gaining greater intelligence and awareness. Through these worlds deities, vegetation, and animals accompanied the Diné, as well as our four sacred mountains;  Sis Naajini (Blanca Peak), Tsoodził (Mount Taylor), Dook’o’oosłid (the San Francisco Peaks) and Dibé Nitsaa (Mount Hesperus).     

Like the story of my people, my tribe, I have gone through many different worlds to walk the path that I am on today. My first world, Ni’hodiłhił, consisted of a surreal state of constantly spending time in the outdoors on the Navajo Nation from Sanders, AZ to Monument Valley, AZ, as well as my hometown of Gallup, NM. Weekends and summers were spent playing with my cousins through the tranquility provided, or turbulence imposed, by our Mother Nature. My grandparents taught me about sheep herding with blue heelers, building hogáns, and butchering sheep. I learned how to take care of horses and cattle, and how to live off of the land. During the spring and summer I spent nights sleeping under the stars and a Pendleton blanket in the back of my grandfather’s early 1990’s Ford F-150. During the fall and winter, I woke up sweating under a sheep woolskin blanket next to a wood burning stove that my grandfather had installed. 

I blinked my eyes and I was in the second world of my journey, Ni’hodootł’izh, far from the Navajo Nation in the Northwest, transported to an environment where all of those activities that had made me feel so real were not customary or necessary, and were even frowned upon. Due to my Diné heritage and my personality, being in the outdoors is a necessity. It is hardwired into my entire being. In this second world, the connection to the land that I had experienced and loved was diverted and diminished. I began to feel disconnected from my Diné roots and felt a growing spiritual void.

I awoke for my first day in a new desert environment and into my third world, Ni’haltsoh. By this time, high school, my identity was in constant flux. I struggled to find my place and individual path in a sea of foreign values and ambitions. I blew through various sports, political ideas, social scenes, and academic areas of study. Amidst the chaos of these years, I found a vehicle that would take me into my fourth world, rock climbing. Being on the walls and boulders in Yosemite National Park, Rocky Mountain National Park, the eastern Sierra Nevada, Cochise Stronghold, Hueco Tanks State Park, and Mount Lemmon with people that shared similar values brought me back to a feeling of connection. Rock climbing became my missing identity puzzle piece; a reincarnation of my first world. 

Ni’halgai, the fourth world of my journey: I am Tábaahá, the Edgewater clan, born for Tł’ógí, the Zia clan. My maternal grandfather is Táchii’nii and paternal grandfather is Tódích’íi’nii. After 16 years of redpoints, boulders, summits, alpine ascents, and first ascents, I am an Indigenous rock climbing guide, guide company owner, professional rock climbing athlete, and advocate for the protection of sacred land resources. My fourth world came about after I resolved that I am committed to the path I am on and that I do not want my story to be unique. It is my goal to provide the same access that was gifted to me to Indigenous youth as a means of connection to their land and to their heritage. 

The author, Aaron Mike, bouldering in Northern Arizona (Hopi, Yavapai, Western Apache, Ancestral Puebloan lands). PC: James Q Martin

Simply acknowledging Indigenous heritage and history as a part of the land is not the only answer. It is a step in our First World, eventually leading to our Fourth World of evolution. Accountability is not only assumed with the people and organizations in the industry that are trying to make a sustainable difference, but should be carried out through the actions of each and every climber. Throughout the decades and in my personal experience there has been a culture in climbing that tries to nullify existing law on sacred lands, specifically on the Navajo Nation. Climbers drill fresh bolts and pay to poach sacred formations behind excuses like “good intentions” or “having a Native friend.” These illegal actions are a modern day conquer-and-destroy mentality that fails to respect Indigenous sovereignty and deteriorates the credibility of potential sustainable rock climbing efforts.

Indigenous Peoples are not extinct. Not everything needs to be climbed. Recreation must take a back seat to respecting Indigenous practices that have existed for millennia. Media channels promote first ascents, first free ascents, first descents, and sending of beautiful lines in remote places on rock, snow, or water, which can overlook Indigenous values. The actions that we take must respect Indigenous culture and it is up to us as the greater climbing community to decide the direction that we wish to pursue. Like climbers’ push for Leave No Trace implementation and education, it is up to all of us to push our Local Climbing Organizations to provide information on how to recreate with respect on or near sacred lands and to develop relationships with local Tribes. We must shift the ethos from a western “take” culture in order to not only respect the original stewards of the land, but to ensure that Nahasdzáán, the Earth, will be healthy for our future generations. 


Aaron Mike is a Navajo rock climbing guide, a NativeOutdoors athlete, and a Native Lands Regional Coordinator for the Access Fund. Since the time of this being originally published, he has also joined the Protect Our Winters athlete team. Find him here.

Climbers of the Craggin' Classics: NRG

PC: Tanner Henson

We’re interviewing a climber from each event in the Craggin’ Classic Series—Rumney, New River Gorge, Devil’s Lake, Smith Rock, Shelf Road, Moab, and Bishop—to take a deep look into the breadth of climbers that come to Craggins, and how they make the most of each unique event.

Read on to hear from climbers just like you, and their take on the things that matter to climbers.

Meet Leanne Christine Reilly!

A NRG Craggin’ Climber

Scroll to read her story…


2023 Craggin’ Classic Series Supported By

Climbers of the Craggin' Classics: Rumney

Photo Credit: Leah Gussoff

We’re interviewing a climber from each event in the Craggin’ Classic Series—Rumney, New River Gorge, Devil’s Lake, Smith Rock, Shelf Road, Moab, and Bishop—to take a deep look into the breadth of climbers that come to Craggins, and how they make the most of each unique event.

Read on to hear from climbers just like you, and their take on the things that matter to climbers.

 

Meet Caper Loomis!

A Rumney Craggin’ Climber

PC: Leah Gussoff

Scroll to read her story…


2023 Craggin’ Classic Series Supported By

CONNECT: Climbing Partnerships that Shape Us, with Erik Weihenmayer and Felipe Tapia Nordenflycht

In this episode, we sit down with climbing partners Erik Weihenmayer and Felipe Tapia Nordenflycht to talk about their recent expedition to Patagonia. Erik and Felipe are each incredible athletes in their own right, but the real heart of this conversation is about partnership, and the ways we learn from and rely on our climbing partners. We dive into Erik’s incredible career as the first blind person to climb Everest, and Felipe’s roots in Chile that inspired this expedition and continue to influence him as he emerges as an athlete and pro photographer. We cover their unique experiences at the summit of Torre Norte, and how each of them hope to see the climbing community grow and expand. Their travels to Patagonia and their partnership are the subject of an upcoming film sponsored by Rab—get the full story and behind the scenes details in this episode of the AAC podcast!





This Podcast is Supported by:

Behind the Scenes of United in Yosemite

Dig into the details of the first ever United in Yosemite event, hosted by The American Alpine Club (through our Climb United program), Yosemite National Park, and the Yosemite Conservancy. This climbing festival was an intentional space created to celebrate the diverse voices of climbing—to make sure the big walls are the only intimidating thing about this legendary climbing location, not the culture or community. Dive into the photos and participant reflections about the event below.

For all current United in Yosemite information click here.

Behind the Scenes of United in Yosemite

CONNECT: An Ode to Speed, with Alex Honnold and Buzz Burrell

free solo; Alex Honnold; Speed climbing; Buzz Burrell; Fastest Known Time

Have you ever wondered: what’s at the root of Alex Honnold’s need for speed? In this episode of the podcast, we sat down with the ever-fascinating Alex Honnold, and put him in conversation with one of ulta running’s forefathers and one of the inventors of the FKT concept, or “fastest known time,” the one and only Buzz Burrell. In this episode, we took inspiration from Alex, who blends sports like running and rock climbing to create massive link-ups like the HURT and the CUDL, to investigate the philosophies behind climbing speed records, ultras, and mountain traverses and link-ups. Why are we so obsessed with speed in the mountains? How do speed records and first ascents play off each other? And what can putting ultra runners and speed record holders together in conversation reveal about these sports we love? The iconic Alex Honnold and Buzz Burrell weigh in on all this and more.


Banding Together: AAC Member Feature

Climbers & drone pilots in training. Photo provided by Emily Johnston.

Grassroots: Unearthing the Future of Climbing

By: Sierra McGivney

Emily Johnston didn't know much about Ukraine before 2022, but like many Americans, she found herself glued to the screen, following the conflict closely. She watched as Russian troops waged war with Ukrainians in an attempt to bring Ukraine back in as a 'vassal' of Russia. Gunfire, missile strikes, and violence continue to wreak havoc on Ukraine's cities, towns, and citizens, and Emily’s story, and her desire to share the stories of Ukrainian climbers, continues to be as relevant now then at the beginning of the conflict.

Emily Guiding on Everest in 2018. Photo provided by Emily Johnston.

As she learned about the violence in Ukraine, Johnston couldn't help but think back to the times when she had met Ukrainian guides while guiding in Antarctica, Nepal, and other places all over the world. They were just like her, sharing their love of the mountains with clients. At the time, she didn't realize how important these connections she made would become. 

Johnston was 12 when she first started mountain climbing. She talked her way into a trip up Glacier Peak in Washington at her summer camp. She explored, climbed, and fell into a crevasse.

"It was great," she recalls.

In high school, Johnston and some friends bought Royal Robbins Rockcraft, Freedom of the Hills, and Cascade Alpine Climbing and headed into the alpine. She distinctly remembers sitting at a belay ledge, comparing a picture of a clove hitch and checking it with her work. 

Emily skiing the Tetons in 2017. Photo provided by Emily Johnston.

In 1987 she got hired as an Outward Bound instructor and then tried out for Rainier Mountain Guides two years later. She worked there until graduate school and has worked for International Mountain Guides for the last ten years. She joined the American Alpine Club when applying for a permit to climb Annapurna in 1993 and has been a member since. 

In February of 2022, she did a quick Google search of "Ukrainian Climbers," and the first thing that popped up was Climb Army—a grassroots network of Ukrainian climbers put together by Mykhailo' Misha' Poddubnov, a Ukrainian mountain guide. She reached out to them and began chatting with Misha.

She asked Misha, Is what I'm hearing about real? What's going on over there?

PC: Emily Johnston

His response was an offer to show her around Ukraine and introduce her to their network of climbers. The next thing she knew, she bought a plane ticket to Poland and was waiting to be picked up on a train platform in Kyiv. 

"Meet a Ukrainian guy online, fly to Ukraine; what could go wrong? I actually didn't tell my parents that I was going," said Johnston with a laugh.


Johnston is no stranger to being bold and journeying into the unknown, so it's unsurprising that she ventured to Ukraine during a war. She spent the month of December couch-surfing, meeting climbers, and being welcomed into their climbing community. 

Climber & doctor on the right and Misha Poddubnov.Photo provided by Emily Johnston.

Despite language barriers, Johnston felt as though all the climbers she had met could immediately walk into her climbing circle and fit right in. The climbing community in Ukraine is just like your local community or group of climbing friends. They go to the local climbing gym after work, gush about their projects, and love climbing in all its forms. They have banded together through climbing to create a network of climbers helping each other. 

Johnston traveled with Misha from end to end of Ukraine, collecting supplies and then delivering them to the front. Along the way, she collected story after story of Ukrainian climbers, the terror of the war, their resilience, and how they have supported each other as a community. 

"It's this community without borders," said Johnston.


Emily interviewing a climber, soldier and doctor near the front lines. Photo provided by Emily Johnston.

Lena, a climber in her late 20s, was in Kyiv on the morning of February 24, 2022, when the bombing started. Lena's friends had a cabin outside the city, and the two fled Kyiv hoping to find safety. The cabin was in Bucha, where Russian forces invaded and are currently under investigation by the Hague for war crimes. The two hid in the basement with their neighbors for four days and listened to the gunfire rain outside. When there was a break, they ran for it and escaped. 

Lena ended up in the western part of Ukraine. She had nowhere to go. Desperate, she remembered she had gone on a climbing trip with a guiding company in the area a few months earlier and called them up. They offered to let her stay in their office as long as needed. She slept on their couch and lived there for months. 

***

A wife and husband duo who own a climbing shop housed 50 people who lived in the building above the shop for three months. Another climber she met named Tanya, who Johnston describes as very poised, composed, and educated, went online and learned how to make Molotov cocktails because they didn't have guns. 

***

A group of climbers had gathered clothes, food, and supplies and drove trucks to the front lines. One woman, Oxcana, delivered drones, clothes, body armor, and kilos of Christmas cakes baked by these climbers. When she's not providing supplies and Christmas cakes, she runs a boarding school for kids whose parents are fighting or whose parents are in occupied Ukraine.


Borodianka, Ukraine. Photo provided by Emily Johnston.

Johnston has story upon story upon story about the climbers who are fighting for their freedom. Amongst all of the couch surfing and visiting the front line, Johnston filmed interviews with all of the climbers she met. She recorded around 15 hours of interviews sitting with the climbers and listening to their stories. With the help of a friend, she is currently putting together a film in hopes of getting the word out. 

"It was even more inspiring than I expected," said Johnston.

Once she returned from Ukraine, Johnston needed to do something, to take action. She created a donor box account where people can donate directly to the climbers. She added links to her Facebook with photos, videos, and information regarding the Ukrainian climbers. 

Emily, near the front, talking with Misha Poddubnov. Photo provided by Emily Johnston.

As climbers, we inherently believe in the power of partnership. To climb together is to partner with another person. Every "On Belay" and "I got you" tie us together as climbers. Johnston traveled halfway across the world during a war to help others who shared her love of climbing. This network of climbers has unified and become a community based around climbing. If you want to get involved, visit the Ukrainian Climber's website here


CONNECT: United in Yosemite, with Genevive Walker and Thomas Bukowski

The AAC is super excited to be co-hosting a brand new climbing festival this summer that centers BIPOC, LGBTQ+ and adaptive climbers in Yosemite Valley, called United in Yosemite. In this episode, we sat down with Genevive Walker and Thomas Bukowski, who are each deeply embedded in the climbing world, helping create more inclusive climbing experiences, and are guides who will be running clinics at United in Yosemite. Our conversation covers what climbing means to them, the obstacles they face as guides, why United in Yosemite matters, and the magic these kinds of events can generate. Listen in to get a sneak peek of what to expect from the event and get a glimpse behind the scenes of the guiding world.


CONNECT: After the Slide, Navigating Grief and Loss Post-Avalanche

In April of 2020, Anna lost her friend in an avalanche while the two were splitboarding Mt. Taylor. In the wake of the accident, Anna utilized the AAC’s Climbing Grief Fund to find accessible mental health care and connect with others who were grappling with similar trauma from accidents in the mountains.

In this episode, we sat down with Anna to have a profoundly raw and elegant conversation about her experience of the accident, how the trauma of the avalanche changed her relationship to backcountry snowboarding and skiing culture, reflections on the toxic narratives of shame and blame that often still persist around outdoor tragedies, and her personal journey as she learns (and continues learning) to navigate her post-avalanche world.




This Podcast is Sponsored By:

The Art of Bailing

In this installment of our Grassroots series, we share the story of two AAC members pushing their personal limits. If you're an AAC member and want to see your climbing story featured, send an email with a brief description to [email protected] for a chance to share your story!

Camden Lyon walking along a large crevasse on Nevado Pisco. PC: AAC Member Torsten Lyon.

Grassroots: Unearthing the Future of Climbing

By: Sierra McGivney

Camden and Torsten Lyon were cold, so cold that cold didn’t feel cold anymore. Their fingers were frozen and ice covered their face as the sun rose. In the Peruvian morning, the two stood at camp having returned from attempting to summit Huascaran (22,205 ft) the highest mountain in Peru. 

“You could see the shadow of the curve of the earth projected into the stratosphere. I think we were both too miserable to enjoy it,” said Camden as he laughed.


13-year-old Camden on Capitol Peak’s iconic knife edge. PC: AAC Member Torsten Lyon.

The first thing that you should know about Torsten and Camden is that Torsten is Camden's father. Camden has been backpacking and bagging fourteeners for as long as he can remember. At the age of four Torsten began involving Camden in the planning process. He showed Camden where they were on the map and where they needed to go. Even though Camden doesn’t remember those trips well, something stuck. 

“Growing up in Colorado, the mountains are as much a part of me as my hand or foot. Nowhere, not even in my own living room, am I more at home than the side of a cliff, a windswept summit, or a towering glacier,” said Camden. 

13-year-old Camden ascending the Peakrly Gates on Mt. Hood. PC: AAC Member Torsten Lyon.

So it was not all too surprising when an 11-year-old Camden approached Torsten about a trip to the Cordillera Blanca. He put together a list of skills he had and skills he needed, and a multi-year plan to acquire the skills needed to climb peaks in the Cordillera Blanca. Torsten said yes—and the two set out on a multi-year plan. They climbed Mount Hood, multiple snow climbs in the North Cascades and Colorado (Grizzly couloir), the Exum Ridge on Grand Teton, and the Kautz Glacier on Mount Rainer. COVID-19 slowed them down but also allowed them time to acquire more skills and experience. The two were set to head to Peru in the summer of 2022 until Torsten fell skiing and tore his meniscus. 

That didn’t stop them. They had set a goal and were willing to work around the obstacles in their way. Torsten had knee surgery and three weeks later he was back training for their trip and hiked Square Top Mountain all with the approval of his doctor. They decided to push their trip back a couple of weeks and acclimatize in Colorado. 


PERU

One flight from Denver to Lima, Peru, and a nine-hour bus ride later, Camden and Torsten arrived at their hotel in the town of Huaraz. Donned in pounds of gear and giddy nervous excitement, the two awaited their guide, Edgar. They had been communicating with each other via email and google translate. 

Nevado Chopicalqui and the peaks of Nevado Huacaran tower above the Refugio Pisco. PC: AAC Member Torsten Lyon.

“So he does show up, which we didn’t know if he would,” said Torsten.

Edgar suggested that they try to climb Pisco (18,871ft) since it’s a relatively easy mountain and the dry season started late that year. Torsten and Camden planned to climb Pisco without Edgar and meet back up with him the following Wednesday on a certain switchback. By 5 am on Monday, the two were off to start their grand Cordillera Blanca adventure.  

Pisco set the precedent for how climbing in Peru would go. Based on guidebooks written 20 or 30 years ago, Pisco was supposed to be 45 degrees or less with minimal crevasse danger. When Torsten and Camden set crampons on the snow Monday morning they found 50-degree angle snow climbing and big crevasses. The glacier along the ridge was fractured off both sides. The silence and wind whipped past them as they soloed up the mountain. Sixty feet below the summit they stopped and turned around. They just didn’t have the right gear for the unexpected conditions. 

Descending from the summit ridge of Nevado Yanapaccha with Nevado Chacraraju in the distance. PC: AAC Member Torsten Lyon.

“For the third day [there]... on a mountain 5,000 feet higher than I’ve ever been, I was alright with it,” says Camden.

 At a junction in the road, Torsten and Camden met with Edgar that Wednesday. As they traveled to the other side of the valley to climb Yanapaccha they conducted a dual interview. Both parties seemed happy with the outcome. Edgar was stoked that the two were competent climbers.

Yanapaccha, their next objective, has a standard route and a harder route. Unfortunately, the glacier on the mountain has receded significantly in the last 20 or 30 years and left giant seracs above the standard route. Edgar suggested they veer away from the cornice and climb the harder line. Three pitches of hard alpine climbing later, they stood on the summit. 

Back in town, Edgar informed them that someone had successfully climbed Huascaran that year. The thing about Huascaran is that it’s a relatively easy mountain with a lot of high objective danger.

“It’s a roll of the dice,” said Torsten. 

Nevado Chopicalqui (20,847), Huascaran Sur (22,205), and Huascaran Norte (21,865) in the morning alpenglow, taken from the west face of Nevado Yanapaccha (17,913).

Avalanches and serac falls are common. So, over a meal, Torsten and Camden discussed the climb. They researched and read about past events and the frequency of avalanches and ice falls during that time of the season. The two generally prefer harder terrain with less objective hazard. This was the opposite. 

“I know for me, being a climber, and also a parent, I wanted to just take a little time to like, [discuss] do you want to do this or not?” said Torsten. 

They decided to go for it. At base camp, they waited in the cold for Edgar to get ready. Unfortunately with the language barrier, they had gotten ready and taken down camp before Edgar woke up. They watched as two climbers from Boulder, Colorado, passed them. 

Crossing through the dangerous terrain below active seracs. PC: AAC Member Torsten Lyon.

Toes frozen in their boots they began the long walk upwards. As they climbed through the snow-filled basin after the first pitch of climbing, avalanche debris came into view. The two climbers from Boulder had been swept 300 feet on the second pitch and rode the avalanche until they stopped right before the pour-over. 

“I had no idea what was happening. I thought I was going to die. It wasn’t funny,” said one of the Boulder climbers to the trio. 

Suddenly the air was eery. Below the summit, Torsten started to develop altitude sickness and the team decided to turn around. They slept a couple of hours and then descended back down to 15,000 feet past camp one. Neither Torsten nor Camden was upset about not summiting. 

“We were really happy to be safely off the mountain and I think we both cared a lot less about having missed the summit,” said Camden. 

They passed a group of climbers from Poland headed up Hauscran as they made their way back down to Huaraz. Between camps one and two, serac falls hit the climbers from Poland. luckily they all lived. 


ISHINCA VALLEY

In nine days' time, Torsten and Camden planned to climb four big mountains: Nevado Ishinca (18,143ft), Urus (17,792ft), Ranrapalca (20,217ft), and Tocllaraju (19,797ft). At this point, Torsten and Camden were confident that they could climb certain mountains and get to high camps without Edgar. 

Camden belaying one of the final pitches on Nevado Ranrapalca. PC: AAC Member Torsten Lyon.

“It’s more like our guide was a paid climbing partner that carried the extra rope and climbed all of the hard pitches,” said Camden. 

The two climbed Urus and Nevado Ishinca with no problem. Ranrapalca proved to be a “wicked hard mountain.”

Five pitches of AI3 and M3 climbing in the dark and two pitches watching the sunrise led to a lovely summit. It proved to be a challenge as the two had little to no experience in mixed or technical ice climbing and the climbing was steep. 

“If you look at a constant angle up, you can't see the stars because it gets so steep. It was just really intimidating,” said Camden.

Once down from the summit Camden and Torsten checked their Inreach to find that bad weather was approaching. They stashed gear and took a rest day and then it became a mad dash to climb Tocllaraju before bad weather moved in. 

Taken on the descent from their hardest summit, Nevado Ranrapalca.

They climbed the standard route which ends 400 feet below the summit. A giant snow mushroom formed by the wind blocks the route to the summit. Camden asked his dad to put him on belay and traversed out to see if there was a route around. He saw a clear path but it was late in the afternoon and they were the only ones on the mountain. Torsten belayed him back in and they descended. 

“There were some great decisions in not going for those summits,” said Torsten. 


COLORADO

Exploring the ridge above Ranrapalca high camp with Nevado Tocllaraju in the background. PC: AAC Member Torsten Lyon.

The two made it safely back to Colorado narrowly missing the political unrest in Peru. Upon returning from Peru the two explored the American Alpine Club Library located in Golden, CO. They got lost in guidebooks written 30-50 years ago about the Cordillera Blanca— comparing conditions, climbs, and peaks to their experience. 

The trip was a culmination of their climbing skills that they worked forward. They laid the foundation and built climbing and decision-making skills to minimize the risks in big mountain climbing. Now that they have a foundation of skills, they are prepared for new adventures in faraway places like the Canadian Rockies or the Alps, or in their backyard in the Colorado Rockies. You can find Camden studying maps and guidebooks for their next great adventure. 


The Ultimate Freelancer

Member Spotlight: Lauren DeLaunay Miller

by Hannah Provost

AAC member Drew Smith

Many of our members have a unique relationship with the Club, finding their niche and contributing in their own way. Lauren DeLaunay Miller describes her role with the AAC as “the ultimate freelancer position.” Lauren’s contributions to the Club seem endless: she was a sound engineer and editor for The Cutting Edge Podcast and the American Alpine Club Podcast, the California editor for the American Alpine Journal and Accidents in North American Climbing, and an event coordinator for the Bishop Highball Craggin’ Classic. In addition, she’s spent three summers working for Yosemite Search and Rescue (YOSAR) and is the editor of the newly released anthology Valley of Giants: Stories from Women at the Heart of Yosemite Climbing. We sat down to talk with Lauren about her time at YOSAR, her book, and the story behind her love of the AAC.

Connect: Life on the Edge of Climbing and Motherhood, with pro Majka Burhardt

Majka Burhardt is a pro climber, a certified climbing guide, a conservation entrepreneur running an international organization, and a writer. She is also a mother to twins, and she’s still figuring it all out. She’s leaning into messy coherence, and learning how to be the best mom, climber, spouse, professional, and guide along the way. Her new book, MORE: Life on the Edge of Adventure and Motherhood is a compilation of in-the-moment journals and voice memos Majka recorded while she was pregnant and during the first five years of her children’s lives—recording the raw messiness of wanting to do it all, and even then asking for more…of life, and of herself. Along the way, she takes an honest look at risk and motherhood, gender roles, navigating jealousy, her work, her marriage, climbing hard with the changes her body experienced, and giving her children her best and highest self. Majka’s book More identifies the ways that life seeps into our climbing and is intricately tied into it. We talk about all this and more in this episode.

The book is on the March Must-Read List from Next Big Idea, and you definitely want to get your hands on a copy.




This Podcast is Sponsored By:

The Foundation of Our Progress

Volunteer Spotlight: BIPOC Initiatives at AAC Twin Cities

by Rodel Querubin

A climber of color ice climbs above Lake Michigan.

PC: AAC member Rodel Querubin

One of our dedicated volunteers from the AAC Twin Cities Chapter, Rodel Querubin reflects on his incredible success in building an (ever growing) BIPOC climbing community there, as well as lessons learned from the process of growing his initiative. Querubin’s analysis of the intentional and thoughtful programming that the Twin Cities Chapter has rolled out over the last few years is an informative roadmap for the climbing world as we work toward being the most inclusive community we can be.

It's All Water

A Story from Climb United

by Holly Yu Tung Chen

teaching how to drill bolt for sport climbing, anchors

PC: AAC member Lam Thuy Vo

In 2020, a web developer named Melissa Utomo was thrust into the spotlight when her work to eliminate oppressive and racist route names became a hotly debated topic in the climbing community. That same summer, Climb United’s very first project was the Route Name Task Force (RNTF), designed to facilitate the conversation about oppressive vs. offensive route names amongst the thought leaders on this topic and guidebook authors and first ascentionists. In this article, Holly Yu Tung Chen interviews the key players, takes the pulse on where oppressive route naming is now, and how leaders like Utomo are going even further than route naming, and creating opportunities for more women and BIPOC climbers to route develop and first ascent on their own terms.

We've Signed the Indigenous Field Guide, Here's Why

PC: Dawn Kish. Recreating at Oak Flat, land sacred to the San Carlos Apache Tribe.

When we were first asked to sign the Indigenous Field Guide pledge, we as an organization were challenged by how broad many of the tenets were, and how they were inconsistent with many of the current practices of climbers today. While some of the tenets of the pledge ring familiar with Leave No Trace Ethics, such as respecting rock art and staying on trails, other elements of the pledge—such as refraining from rock stacking, or seeking permission to share geographic locations from local Tribes—initially led us to a place of defensiveness. However, we also recognized this reaction should be seen as an impetus to really examine what the pact meant, and why we were reacting in this way.

The AAC has decided to sign onto the pledge, and we’re happy to share why.

Coming from a perspective of Western thought, we are accustomed to taking pacts such as these literally, assigning truth to every word, and were thus afraid we would be signing it performatively. We feared that we would not be able to fully comply with the pact, and instead would continue the pattern of broken promises experienced by Indigenous Tribes since the days of early settlers.

However, through multiple and overlapping conversations with the writers of the Indigenous Field Guide, we came to understand the spirit of the pledge and the value of committing to it despite our hesitations. Fear of failing would only prevent us from growing.

For example, we learned through various discussions with the writers of the pledge that the deepest importance of the imperative to seek permission before sharing coordinates is about protecting undefended Indigenous archeological and cultural sites that are as yet unrecognized or do not have conservation protections. This imperative is a manifestation of the last and most comprehensive directive from the Indigenous Field Guide writers: “I promise that exploration and first ascents are never more important than cultural resources.”

The AAC has a long-standing practice of publishing GPS coordinates of new routes in order to fulfill our mission of supporting and informing climbers. In fact, the sharing of GPS coordinates seemed a step in the direction of inclusion, so that no one developer or elite climber would “hoard” or gate-keep knowledge of a particular climbing area and make climbing that much less accessible for many people. Yet we had not considered how in certain cases, such sharing of coordinates can threaten areas of cultural significance to Indigenous peoples, with increased traffic threatening the spirituality of the sacred place, increasing erosion, and increasing potential defacement. 

In addition, we learned that the request to not stack rocks is not a ban on cairns, but rather a way to highlight that the land should be as untouched as possible, and remain exactly as it is, unless steps are necessary (such as marking a trail in wilderness areas) in order to accomplish that goal of minimal impact. Specifically, balancing rocks and creating rock gardens in rivers and streams can destroy fish habitats in the immediate vicinity and downstream. 

We as an organization have signed the Indigenous Field Guide Pledge and have started examining how we can transform our internal practices to align with what we have learned. By committing to the pledge, we are committing to staying in the conversation as we move forward collectively. What does that look like for us, the AAC?

  • We continue to encourage climbers to be conscientious of their impacts on land and people.

  • Moving forward, the American Alpine Club strongly encourages grant applicants to consider the locations of their pursuits, and when possible to seek out consent from local Tribes before climbing and before publicly sharing coordinates. For many of the grants, having the endorsement of local Tribes will be a condition for the grant to be awarded. 

  • In cases where publication of coordinates might draw large numbers of new visitors to an area, the editors will urge contributors to our publications to consult with local Tribal leaders about the sensitivity of the area and any potential impacts.

We encourage our members and community to learn more here and to sign the pledge for themselves, if they likewise see value in holding themselves accountable to learning and recreating with this context of Indigenous knowledge. 

Guidebook X

The AAC’s Guidebook is our annual storytelling publication, capturing the stories of the people and issues that are at the forefront of the climbing communities mind. AAC members receive a print copy annually.

In this issue, we feature the filmography of up-and-coming director Marie-Louise Nkashama, explore the prolific history of route developer Jeff Jackson, investigate how groups on the ground are making climbing more inclusive, and highlight the story of an AAC volunteer who has given so much back to the community through YOSAR and storytelling.

Our feature articles do a deep dive into the AAC’s work to protect Pine Mountain, CA, from deforestation; retell the story of cutting-edge expeditions to Proboscis; highlight the intricacies of the conversation around oppressive and offensive route naming; and reminisce about the first successful climbing expedition to the Antarctic.

From cutting-edge climbing stories, to public lands, inclusive climbing community, and just plain cool climbers, you can find the breadth of the climbing community in these pages.

The AAC Podcast Wants Your Craziest Climbing Stories!

Photo by AAC member Joe Virtanen

Have you ever taken a 100-foot fall into a cactus, and walked away with basically no injuries? Taken a whip on a can of pinto beans, just to see what would happen? Or had to deal with a bullet wound while out climbing, like Aubrey Runyon discusses in our recent podcast episode “CONNECT: Climbing 10,000 Pitches in Eldo”? Maybe it’s the biggest whip you almost had to take, or an encounter with an alpine ghost…whatever it is, we want to hear the stories of your craziest day while climbing.

We’re not necessarily asking for your worst crag stories ever, or stories of accidents in the backcountry, though that might be wrapped up in all the crazy. But tell us the most absurd, completely out-there stories that you can think of, and we might feature your story on our podcast!

One of our episodes in January will feature the stories of AAC community members like you. Make sure to submit your stories before January 1st 2023 to get the chance to be featured.

Climb United

Building community at the AAC’s Craggin Classic

United We Climb

Every Fall, the American Alpine Club hosts the Craggin Classic, a climbing festival at world-class climbing destinations in the United States. Participants dance wearing glow sticks at night and climb all day. This year the Craggin Classic held Climb United meetups at all locations, creating a safe and welcoming community for everyone.

Climb United works to uplift traditionally marginalized groups in the climbing community. Through intentional programs like the Route Naming Task Force, the Climb United Affiliate Support Network, and the Pull Focus Grant, Climb United is working towards change within the climbing community to welcome all groups. Climb United is all about gaining new perspectives from others to create a more accessible, loving, climbing community.

Take a look at the Moab, New River Gorge, Smith Rock, and Shelf Road CU meetups!

Climbing United

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.