Returning for 2009, the 3rd annual Squamish Mountain Festival is ramping up to draw in locals and visitors alike. Focusing mainly on climbing and its surrounding culture the event also encompasses complementary activities such as yoga, a themed party and its first ever trail run. There is a film festival and photography contest (Steep Shot Photo Shoot Out), educational climbing clinics and a Dyno competition, where climbers from around the globe will compete for the biggest jump. The festival runs from August 12 to 16th, with events taking place at venues around Squamish including the Eagle Eye Theatre, The Squamish Adventure Centre, The Howe Sound Brew Pub, and of course the local crags.

Competing in the Photo Shoot Out this year are Susanica Tam, Andrew Burr, Corey Richards, Sonnie Trotter and Keith Ladzinski. This line-up brings years of experience in climbing and adventure photography to centre stage. Each competitor will show the best of their climbing portfolios in a five to eight minute presentation set to music. The competition, which is judged by a panel of experts, is always an exciting night that sells out each year.

Alongside the film festival at the Eagle Eye Theatre there will be featured guest speakers recounting tales of their international climbing endeavors. This year's roster consists of Canadian greats, Peter Croft and Will Stanhope; female powerhouses, Lauren Lee, Ines Papert and Audrey Gariepy; and the British crew of Ian Parnell and Simon Yates. As reported by one of the key event organizers, Ivan Hughes, the planning of the event is getting better and better, "I think this year's festival will be one of the most exciting yet. We've got an incredible mix of sport, alpine and rock climbers coming to the festival with gripping stories and images from their latest adventures from the far corners of the world. Films are being submitted from all over as well, we've had entries from Brazil, Italy, France, Germany, Switzerland, the US and Canada. I'm amazed at all the creative and inspiring filmmakers out there that manage to get amazing footage of the wildest action again and again every year."

The hugely popular party always has a theme that encourages entertaining costumes and this year's is sure to draw the unusual and quirk: "Trailer Trash Super Heroes"….need we say more. Also in the exciting events lineup is the newly added La Sportiva Smoke Bluffs Scramble, a five-kilometer "twoonie style" trail run with a happy hour social to follow.

The aim of the festival is to have veteran climbers and novices come together and share their enthusiasm for climbing and the mountain realm in a grassroots celebration. The beneficiaries of this year's festival are Squamish Access Society, Climbers Access Society of BC, and Squamish Girls Rock. It's presented by Arc'teryx Equipment Inc. in partnership with Mountain Equipment Co-op.

Tickets for the event can be purchased online (www.squamishmountainfestival.com) or at the Squamish Adventure Centre, or at Squamish retailers - Valhalla Pure Outfitters and Climb on.

Events are set to take place all over Squamish, so check back to our site regularly as we update event listings, venue locations and ticket information arcteryx.com/events

The 2009 Squamish Mountain Festival is sponsored by Arc’teryx Equipment in partnership with Mountain Equipment Coop and presented in conjunction with the following sponsors:

Chief sponsorship:

• Five Ten
• La Sportiva
• Black Diamond
• Flashed
• Howe Sound Brewing
• Canada West Mountain School

Bluffs sponsorship:

• Valhalla Pure
• Maxim Ropes
• GORE-TEX®
• Tourism Squamish
• Climb On Squamish

Media sponsorship:

• Gripped
• Climbing
• Urban Climber
• The Chief
• KVOS Television

Beneficiaries of this year's event are:

• Squamish Access Society
• Climbers Access Society
• Squamish Girls Rock

For more information, please visit the official Squamish Mountain Film Festival website at http://www.squamishmountainfest.com

Arc'teryx

Mountain Equipment Coop

Five Ten

La Sportiva

Black Diamond

Flashed

Howe Sound Brewing

Canada West Mountain School

Valhalla Pure

Maxim Ropes

GORE-TEX

Tourism Squamish

Climb On Squamish

Gripped

Climbing

Urban Climber

Squamish Chief

KVOS Television

Winner of the 2009 Canadian Mountain Running Championships and a member of the Canadian Mountain Running Team, Amy has a passionate connection to the mountains she now trains and competes in.

Born and raised in the once small mountain town of Canmore, Alberta, she spent her youth running single track animal trails or linking longer backpacking routes any where she could find them. She began competing in cross country meets in high school and then ran for the University of Alberta while attending university. Her love of running has stayed with her through the birth of her twin girls and continues to be her meditation time no matter where life takes her.

She has a private nutritional consulting business called Jump Start Nutrition, is a principal investigator on a leading HIV/AIDS research project and works for an international development organization.

Amy has a passion for travel and has run, hiked, climbed and competed in Nepal, Ghana, Thailand, Cambodia, Laos, Israel, Turkey and all over North America. But a day spent in the Rockies, hiking or running with her children or friends will always be one of her favorite activities.

Check out Amy's blog here.

Five Guys, Granite Bigwalls, Two Weeks and …

By Rob Pizem

Photos by Andrew Burr

Every time that I saw Brian "something", while climbing at Rifle, he was crushing routes, catching something with his son or belaying his wife.  Ari was a friend from when we went to the Colorado School of Mines and has always been a longtime inspiration for me.  Mike has been a partner through and through and was the brains behind this adventure.  Andy, well he just always wants to go on these trips and take incriminating photos and as for me well, I never learned anything from staying home.

Norway was an easy place to say "YES" to when Mike told me that we were going a few months back.  We decided that it would be fun to have some of our other good friend’s join us, so we invited those who we knew had the time.  It didn’t take much to sell the idea to everyone and it wasn’t long before we nearly collided head on with an Arctic Circle reindeer after only being in our rental van a few minutes.  At that moment we knew that the twenty four hours of day light, our extremely motivated crew and lots of rock would all come together for a once in a lifetime trip to the Lofoton Islands of Norway.

It is not often that I can say the first climbing that I have done while in a new country was at 1 am in the morning, but when you go Norway in late June that is what happens.  We all had the attitude that if it wasn’t raining that we should be rock climbing.  So as we scrambled up above a picturesque ocean side town, along the towering mountains that rose right out of the depths, I knew we were in the right place.  Hours of travel had put each of us in a dilated state and we were all surprised to find out that it was after midnight when we began our ascent of a classic tower, the locals called the Goat.  It was also quite odd having to wait for the light to be just right at two in the morning.

I am pretty much a lightweight when it comes to a few things and jumping from one summit to another is one of those things.  Every one of the hard men in our group did the jump except for one person and that was me.  I am really good at finding excuses and satisfying myself about why I shouldn’t do something and I can congratulate myself for doing it again.  It was no more than five feet across to a down sloping ledge about the size of a small four person dinner table.  Andy kept calling me names, Mike knew I wouldn’t do it and Brian and Ari were reclimbing another route and waiting patiently.  In the end, I stood on both summit peaks (the horns of the goat) and I breathed easy as I didn’t injure myself for the rest of the two week trip to Norway.  Andy ended up doing it in his hiking shoes and bruising his heals.  What was odd was that we weren’t the only people on the route at those late hours.  There was a party in front of us and one behind ready to enjoy the idyllic summit over the crystal clear water and lush mountainside.

No one poured over the guidebook more than Brian.  He had the routes chosen that we should climb, the directions to them and all the beta that we could wish for.  So as we were always elated with the routes that he chose, we eagerly geared up for the Storm Pillar.  This was no casual jaunt up twelve hundred foot 5.11 trade routes that we ate up days before, this was us about to enter the "jaws" as Ari and Andy would say.

The forecast looked good for the more than 20 pitches of climbing that we were about to tackle.  We were all psyched up for the hour and a half approach when we got started.  I didn’t mention the time because after all, it didn’t matter!  Anyway, the approach led us into a cirque through some swampy wetlands, cobweb covered boulders, waterfalls and a snowfield or two.  It was easy to break a sweat as we had a little extra gear and clothing for the real deal in Lofoton.  As Ari and I reached the beginning of the route we noticed that the lower half was covered with running water from the melting snow above.  We had to scratch the lower half of the wall off and hope to approach from the right through a high snowfield.  Things didn’t work out so well for us as Brian and Ari got shut down a pitch and a half up by wet rock, no gear and thick moss.  While those two were bailing Mike and Andy had skirted up the cliff line and found out why the locals told us not to try the route this early in the season, a steep, insecure, melting snow field with bad consequences below for a falling American.  I decided that it didn’t look good and was hanging out below working on my Arctic tan.  In the end, we opted to not epic and avoid catastrophe by skipping out on the proudest line in the area.  The Storm Pillar would have to wait.

The feeling of being cheated and weak lingered on all of our minds and soon the conversations moved toward putting up a new route.  One of the problems was that we didn’t know where to try to establish a new route.  Another was that none of us brought jugs, fixed lines, cleaning supplies, a bolt kit or anything else required for putting up a new route.  So after climbing some shorter routes on the coastline, and few long conversations, we ended up chartering a boat and heading to a deserted island with a known thousand foot wall only a hundred feet from a white sandy beach.  We didn’t know what was possible, we didn’t know what the weather was going to do, we didn’t even have a plan other than hope and the knowledge that somebody else had aided the wall years before.

It took Ari and me about an hour and a half of scouting the wall to decide on a line to attempt.  There were some obvious lines on the left side that would go, but they were not very elegant.  There were a couple possibilities on the far right side of the wall that would require some major cleaning and since all that we had were a couple of nut tools, were weren’t really too excited for that.  The center of the wall had some striking possibilities but with only two days before the boat came back and no bolt kit for the long blank sections between crack systems, we decided on a clean looking dihedral that trended up and left on the wall.  It looked as if there would be some exciting transitions on arêtes up high to reach parallel crack systems and we just assumed that they would be free climbable.

So after Brian, Andy and I fixed the first three pitches in the middle of the night and after Mike and Ari did some major cleaning in the morning, we were racking up for an attempt of the route by noon the following day.  The weather was wonderful and sunny, the man eating mosquitoes were not attacking us and there was a clean finger and hand crack to be climbed, our bellies were full, so we headed up the wall directly over our giant tent.  It’s not often that you can just walk up to a bigwall and establish a new line your first try and have it be a pleasure to climb with some exciting committing climbing on it.  The stone remained perfect from bottom to top.  The gear was bomber and the features appeared just when you needed them.  It was a new routing dream come true.  In the end, we topped out the wall, left some gear as rappel anchors and were back at the tent with hours to spare before our boat came back to take us to the mainland.

The great thing about being in another country is being able to drive without any worries.  As a stupid tourist, U-turns are now legal, driving on the sidewalk the norm and speeding is not even a consideration.  Well, for the non drivers that is the truth, but for Mike he makes it his goal to normally do something that we can apologize for later.  Mike will truly go out of his way to do almost anything for anyone at anytime, but when it comes to speeding, his foot is really, really heavy.  So, as we drove to Norway’s national mountain the Stetind (yes, they really have a national mountain) and he was driving let’s just say way over the limit, we didn’t even think twice about the fact that speeding near towns was strictly forbidden.  In the end, he was fortunately only going a few kilometers over when he drove through the speed trap.  After a few minutes of trying to play the dumb American reminding the officer that we get warnings for speeding back in the states, he was handed a speeding ticket that was almost five hundred dollars.  So much for making good time on the winding coastal roads of mainland Norway for the rest of the trip.

On the rain day that followed, we journeyed to obtain our first shower after nearly two weeks without.  We checked out a local mall (lame) and posed in the rain for Andy under stylish road signs.  As with all days that you want to be climbing and your not, it was barely bearable.  On a side note, every time it did rain on our trip, the next day was totally sunny and the rock was dry.  So the next morning we made our normal three hour gourmet breakfast compliments of Brian and were on the trail by midday.

Norway’s national peak was about forty five hundred feet tall and directly out of the ocean fjord.  The entirely granite mountain was breathtaking to gaze at unless you were getting eaten alive by the mosquitoes.  The hike was wonderfully casual and well groomed, as many hike it to the top.  We reached the base of the wall and had to decide where the route actually began.  The climbing was varied, steep and slabby, tricky yet easy, ledging and sheer.  In a nutshell, it was perfect.  What was really cool about climbing such an important mountain was that there were relics all over it.  Tens of old bolts, leepers, tat and pins remained from ascents long ago.  It is no wonder why they have banned the use of new bolts, they have hundreds of pieces of old junk on the walls already.

Near the top, after crossing a thousand ridge foot traverse, we were greeted with the best views of the whole trip.  The sun was in its almost setting phase and the sky was ablaze with the most amazing colors and pastels that I have ever seen.  I stared at the horizon and the snow covered surroundings for what felt like an eternity. The ever changing surface of the ocean with its tides and currents captivated me in the fjord below, and knowing that tomorrow was July 4th, and the day that we had to leave added to the power of the moment. Thanks Arcteryx for making this trip possible.

In early July 2009, Josune Bereziartu and Rikar Otegui made the first free ascent of the 10-pitch route 'El Castillo de los Sacristanes' (400m, 8a/5.13b) in Spain's Ordesa National Park. In 2006, Spanish climber Manu Cordova made the first ascent of the line without freeing the 6th pitch. In a one-day effort Rikar and Josune climbed all of the pitches on-sight (up to 7b+/5.12c), except for the crux 6th pitch, which they did on their second try and suggested a grade of 8a/ 5.13b. The 45-metre crux pitch features a very large roof with big runouts on questionable rock and suspect gear placements.

In an email to Arc'teryx Josune called it, "Very exciting-the gear is precarious, and the rock quality is not the best."

With this bold free ascent, the multi-talented husband-and-wife team has established the most difficult route in the Ordesa Valley area. Josune also commented that adventure rock climbing is becoming more popular all over Spain, and that on weekends they often see up to a hundred other climbers in the Ordesa Valley.

Get to the Canadian Mountain Running Championships and qualify for Worlds in Italy: that was my focus since coming back from an Achilles injury over the winter.

Transitioning back to regular training was tough. Getting out of the pool and transferring back to trails and hills was painful, but my first mountain running coach once told me that I had to "get comfortable with the pain", so that's what April was for me—pain. It took two months of swimming and biking and my incredible physiotherapist, Somer, to get me back on my feet and training near my home in Calgary, but whatever I did must have worked.

Race day was chaotic as usual. I performed my usual routine: forgetting a pair of shoes or shorts, then spending the hour before the race madly running back and forth between the bathroom, my car, and the start line. (That actually works as pretty good warm up and certainly gets my heart rate up.) I also psyched myself out by meeting a few of my competitors before the race. Fortunately, my kids were there to watch me race, which distracted me from worrying that I might not be properly warmed up, hydrated, rested, or trained.

Then it was race time.

When the gun went off, the only thing on my mind was to secure a front position.  I don't know that I've ever had any serious coaching on strategy in races.  I usually just give whatever I've got the day of the race and hope that it's enough.  My only strategy, if you can call it that, has always been to try to get out front and hold the position.  I learned early on that if I got stuck at the back, it took way more mental energy to reel in the people in front of me than it did to just hold them off and refuse to be passed. As we started up the hill I was about 4th or 5th but within the first kilometer, I was closing in on the front women. 

Because I'd walked the course a few days earlier, I thought I knew where it went.  I saw the other runners head off in one direction and, thinking I was helping out, yelled "Wrong way!"—only to hear "Nope, look at the tape!".  Wow, what an amateur! It turns out that not only was that not the top of the course, but there was one more uphill kilometer to go.

See, this is all part of my strategy of not having a strategy.  Just go balls out the whole time. Since you don't know what's ahead of you, why not give it all you've got until you can't give any more? 

By the time I got to the first section of the climb, I was ready to let go on the downhill.  I knew that if I didn't catch people on the downhill, or open a gap, I was going to have to work way harder on the uphills, so I just let go. "Let go, let go…" It's my mantra on downhills. "Stop trying to control it…just let go." (That's been a good mantra for my life, too… good things happen when I let go and let the universe take care of it.)

The rest of the first lap I stayed in front;  I managed to pass a few of the men at one point, and that always feels good, too. [The?] Devonian drop, a technical downhill for hardcore mountain bikers, didn't feel as brutal this year, but the fear of pursuit by the incredibly fast women behind me was enough to keep me pushing every ounce of effort I could on every single hill.  I had no time for breaks, coasting, or catching my breath.  If I was going to hold the front spot, I'd have to work by butt off for it.

The rest of the race was a blur of thinking "Let go", calling out to friends and family for my times, and feeling how close the women behind me were.

And somehow, in all of the heat and sweat and sun, and beneath the incredible beauty of Canmore, I held my #1 spot. When I crossed the finish line and my twin daughters came to dump water all over me, I couldn't have been happier.  Chandra Crawford was right when she said after winning the World Cup on home turf, "Canmore is the best place in the known universe!"

What a privilege it is to race with the best in Canada.  They were formidable competition, but it just so happened that on that day, I was the fastest woman there.  Worlds will be tough, the competitors incredibly dedicated and strong. But I will be spending the summer running up any hill I can and getting comfortable with pain.

North Ridge of Latok 1, Pakistan

A story by Dylan Johnson

Despite 30 years of expeditions by many of the world’s best alpinists, Pakistan’s Choktoi Glacier maintains a 0.0% success rate on the magnificent objectives that are accessed there (Latok 3, Latok I, Latok 2, Ogre 2, Ogre I). The snowpack this year in the Karakorum was the biggest since 1976, according to the locals, which made glacier-travel easy and ridge-climbing difficult. Here is a report on the most recent Choktoi failure:

Funded in part by a Mugs Stump Award, Josh Wharton (with his fiancé Erinn Kelly who would stay in base camp), Colin Haley and I left the States on June 9th to attempt the North Ridge of Latok 1 in Pakistan’s Karakorum. After a week of traveling through Islamabad, Skardu and the four day trek up the Braldu and Panmah river valleys, we arrived at base camp on the upper Choktoi Glacier at 4560m, below the North Ridge.

We completed three acclimatization trips on nearby ridges and peaks. First we spent one night at 5000m on a ridge immediately above base camp. Our second trip involved three days retrieving Colin’s gear cache at 5700m at the Ogre/Ogre II col, left behind during his 2008 attempt on the Southeast Buttress of the Ogre with Maxime Turgeon. Our third and final acclimatization mission took us to the summit of the High Sister at 5800m and an adjacent high glacial plateau where we spent two nights at 5850m.

At midnight on July 8th, with a forecast for three good days followed by a minor 24 hour storm, we started toward the base of the north ridge with three 32 pound packs. Our intended line climbed snow and ice on the east side of the ridge, intersecting the ridge at 6000m above the lower sections of heavily corniced and mushroomed ridge. We reached the base of the technical climbing at dawn and began belaying a 250m water ice step. Colin led the first block of grade 3 and 4 ice topping out on steep snow at 5450m. I led the following block of 60 degree snow and ice to the base of a steep mixed step at 5750m where Josh would take over. Our intended line continued up the steep mixed terrain above, which looked reasonable from base camp, but now appeared exceedingly difficult. We opted to climb a climb short mixed pitch followed by an arduous snow pitch (courtesy Colin, our unconsolidated snow master) to reach the ridge and a bivi near 5830m.

After stamping out a platform on the narrow double-corniced ridge we discussed our options. The ridge itself was impassable due to the sugary mushrooms and cornices, our only option for ascent was to traverse west off the ridge. From his 2008 attempt, Josh knew the terrain to the West was complex and difficult as well. We decided the climbing was too slow and difficult and the chances of summiting were too slim to justify continuing. We rappelled the lower northwest face the following day and returned to base camp and called in the porters. On our trek out from base camp, we met the Spanish alpinists, Alvaro Novellon and Oscar Perez hiking in to attempt the North ridge as well. May they have better luck than we did inshallah!

We would like to extend our sincere gratitude to the Mugs Stump grant program for their generous support of our expedition. And I would personally like to thank my sponsors Arc’teryx, Adidas Eyewear, Black Diamond, Raw Revolution, Thermarest, MSR and Mountain House for providing the finest gear available.

To view the entire trip report including a series of inspirational photos taken on the trip, please visit this link.

A Will Stanhope adventure, photos by Rich Wheater

The Cobra Crack is located on the Backside of the Chief, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the Squamish Valley. It is a long, sinuous and truly beautiful crack up an otherwise blank wave of granite. Enormous old growth Douglas firs tip toward the cliff, there's no highway noise, and the entire wall is free of protection bolts. Hikers, having never climbed before, often stop and gaze up at it, if simply for pure aesthetics. It really has to be seen to be believed.

I learned how to gear climb when I was in high school. At that point Cobra was a seldom talked about legendary project, first climbed by Peter Croft and Tami Knight but far from freed. I remember at the conclusion of my "Learn to Lead Climb" course Graeme Taylor talking about it, saying that Croft said he would quit climbing if he ever climbed it. I don't think Croft would ever quit climbing, for any reason, but that tongue-in-cheek comment sparked my interest big time. Others told me it could be climbed, but your fingers would never be the same afterwards. If there was ever a route worth mangling fingers over, Cobra was it. For all the talk and wild claims, very few had actually been on the line.

One of my biggest climbing heroes, Sonnie Trotter, eventually sent the route in June 2006. At the time I was planting trees in Northern BC. While checking my email at the London Drugs in Prince George, I got an email from Sonnie saying he had tamed the Cobra. I was totally shocked and amazed that the supposedly-impossible Cobra had finally been tamed. I left London Drugs high as a kite, dazed and really, really amped.

In the next few years I dabbled on the Cobra, trying to gauge whether or not I was strong enough to climb it. This spring, after a trip to Smith Rock where I climbed the East Face of the Monkey on gear, I decided to put life on hold and commit to the Cobra. After a certain point, dabbling just doesn't cut it - you've got to put everything else aside and put the Cobra first. All the previous ascentionists - Trotter, Nico Favresse, Ethan Pringle and Matt Segal - had made the route a priority. I was no different. I thought about the Cobra seven days a week for about three weeks. I stuck to myself mostly, avoiding parties, lathering my fingers daily in Polysporin to heal from the climb, and sleeping lots. My friend Andrew Wilson likes to say, "Embrace your geekdom!" and for that short time, I lived by that credo.

On June 20th I hiked up to Cobra for the umpteenth time, expecting another beat down. I had woke up at my parent's house in North Vancouver to the pitter-patter of rain, but drove up to Squamish anyway, casually optimistic. At the crag were just a few tight friends, in stark contrast to the crowd of people that usually gathered at the base.

I'm no sports psychologist, but I have two mental tricks I use before trying my absolute hardest on something. First, I try to abandon all thoughts of completion of the project. Nothing short-circuits my ability like getting attached to the outcome. Secondly, I make an effort to actually enjoy the climbing, not an easy task when every jam crushes your fingers. Simple tricks, and much easier said than done.

One of my best friends, Jeremy Blumel gave me a belay. On my first try my foot slipped out above the lip. Temperatures were perfect. I calmed myself down, and as a gentle rain started, I tied in again. This time I powered through the crux, quivering with excitement. At this point, the angle kicks back to vertical 5.10 crack climbing. It was filthy dirty and I climbed aggressively, harshly torquing my fingers into the crack, making damn sure I didn't blow it. At the top I was covered in dirt and blood.

By the time I had lowered to the ground my best friend Jason Kruk had arrived at the cliff with a pack full of Kokanees. I guzzled the first one and nursed another. I was in disbelief that the Cobra had gone down. Ten days later, I can still hardly believe it.

Some routes have a mythical aura surrounding them, something that can't be explained. The Cobra is one of those lines. As Sonnie says, "it's a gift to climbers." He's right. And I'm thankful.

Revisiting an Old Acquaintance - "Beat It" by Toni Lamprecht

15 years ago I placed a few bolts in the steep upper part of the Rocky-Wall in Kochel. I forgot the beautiful line that seemed too futuristic until a friend of mine reminded me two months ago. I soon got involved in the crazy dynamic movements and jumpy sections and tried different solutions, until the ascent came closer.

Last week I was able to link all the moves successfully during a thunder-storm. The amazing new route is one of my nicest ones and ranges somewhere around 8c+ - repeaters voices to be heard soon! Thanks to my friend Uli and his vision, which made the fantastic project possible.

Toni Lamprecht

Check out the video here

"Cirque of the unclimbables" in Canada

Ines Papert (D) und Lisi Steurer (A) manage first ascent on Middle Huey Spire 400m "Power of Silence" 5.13a

This stunningly beautiful and very remote rocky landscape in the Northwest Territories is known for its gigantic granite walls up to 800m in height. The so called Feary Meadows make a perfect place of departure for alpine undertakings at the "Cirque of the unclimbables." To reach the camp we took a 90 minute hydroplane from Blackstone to the Glacier Lake, from where it was another day's march to approach the climb.

New route - Lisi's baptism of fire

In the middle of the Canadian wilderness we manage a fantastic but continuously demanding first ascent on the Middle Huey Spire's south face, 400 m. We follow the logical route along cracks and through a very apparent system of dihedrals in the left sector of the wall, which leads us over enormous roofs. We are almost only using traditional gear like pitons, Camalots and other camming devices. For the belay stations and four other necessary intermediate belays we are using bolts. Thanks to a british team, who left behind 90 meters of static rope, we are able to climb the upper part in one go. But every meter up to the summit has to be earned, climbing the route feels arduous and very exposed. Luckily the days are long. After three days of hard work on August 2nd, 2009 we reach the summit of Middle Huey Spire for the first time. It's Lisi's first alpine ascent, and this doubles our happiness. The terrain seems to be ideal for base jumping, which of course would be the fastest way down. But we're having enough adrenaline in our veins and are just as happy to abseil along our route down to the bottom of the wall.

Free ascent: 5.13- "Power of Silence"

Two questions keep being interesting - will we manage a free ascent of our route? The first ascent already demanded all sorts of technical climbing tricks, plus the wall is very steep. Also, will we be lucky with the weather? During our rest day we are plagued by these thoughts. But the weather god is on our side and even after one rainy day the wall is still dry. We're spending another day on our route, practicing and cleaning, and two days later Ines manages her free ascent. On August 7th, in the afternoon, we reach the summit a second time, very happy about the free ascent up this exposed route. "Power of Silence" seems to be a perfect name. The silence and solitude of the wilderness are giving us energy and help us to work as a team in harmony. As a grade we suggest 5.13- (7c+). 11 pitches, mostly 5.11 and 5.12. This is only the second route up the mostly overhanging south face of the Middle Huey Spires, which leads you to one of the most secluded summits in the area.

Lotus Flower Tower

During a very stable fair weather phase, which is unusual for this region, we were able to realize two more dreams—the onsight ascent of the most famous summit in the area, the Lotus Flower Tower 800m "South East Buttress" 5.10c in 9.5 hours and the first free ascent (Ines) of "Riders on the Storm" 5.12 d (7c, 11 pitches) on East Huey Spire.
Thanks to our friends in Canada, Chris Atkinson and Marc Piche, who inspired us to do this trip. They are working on a Guidebook and a Coffee Table Book, and so we got the chance to visit this wonderful spot.

Many thanks also to our sponsors, who never get tired of supporting our undertakings:

Arc'teryx, GORE-TEX, Black Diamond, Lowa, Julbo, Wild Roses, Suunto

You can also read an article about the trip on Climbing.com

In the summer of 2009, three of us Canadian Rockies locals (Eamonn Walsh, Ian Welsted and I) traveled to Pakistan to play in the bigger hills over there. We returned to the Hispar Glacier area, a region we first visited in 2006 when we unsuccessfully attempted the southwest face of Kunyang Chhish East (ca. 7400m). Even though Kunyang East is one of the most beautiful mountains I have ever seen (and remains unclimbed to boot), in 2009 we decided to experience another mountain: the (also unclimbed) Pumari Chhish East (ca. 6900).

We left Calgary on June 10th, and on summer solstice arrived in basecamp at 4500m, a wonderful grassy spot perched above the Jutmaru Glacier. While basecamp had great lounging, bouldering and even some decent cragging, it also offered a front-row view of our objective to remind us of why we were there.  The first order of business was to acclimatize, and so already on June 26th we summitted a previously unclimbed 5900-m peak in an 11-hour round trip from basecamp (most of the smaller and not a few of the bigger peaks in the Hispar Glacier area are still unclimbed). We named the peak Rasool Sar in honour of our cook, guide and friend, Hajji Ghulam Rasool. While most of the "climbing" on Rasool Sar consisted of slogging up a steep snow slope, there was an amusing bit of corniced ridge near the top. A few more acclimatization outings, with three nights spent above 5600m and one foray above 6000m, and we declared ourselves ready for the main attraction.

Initially we had planned to attempt Pumari Chhish East via its south ridge, first tried in 2007 by Steve Su and Pete Takeda. But after wallowing in horrible snow on a few ridge climbs (bad snow is something most Karakorum ridges I have experienced seem to share), the corniced south ridge lost much of its appeal and we turned our attention to the southeast face to its right. On July 16th we bivied at below the face at 4800m. The following morning we got going well before dawn to take advantage of cooler temperatures. We made good progress up snow and ice fields, followed by a beautiful ice hose, to the base of the rock headwall at 5700m. While Eamonn prepared a tent platform, Ian and I did one more pitch of reasonably difficult mixed climbing. Leaving a rope fixed, we descended to a deluxe bivi and a waiting dinner. While the terrain above our highpoint looked hard, it was perhaps not impossibly so, even for lightweights like ourselves. Unfortunately we never did get to come to grips with it: the effort of a big day, the altitude, but above all a heavy meal of freeze-dried chili and cheese had me throwing up all night. In the morning I could barely stand, and so down we went.

On June 28th Ian and I (Eamonn having left to drink beer in Ireland) once again packed our packs and approached the foot of the southeast face. Unfortunately during the intervening ten days of warm weather the ice hose we climbed on the first attempt had melted out. While we sat trying to decide whether we should still attempt the face under present conditions (after all, the word in ice climbing these days is that "it don’t have to be formed to be formed"), a large wet-snow avalanche swept the gully in question. The very same evening we were back in basecamp.

In between the two attempts (if they could be called that) on Pumari Chhish East, the three us climbed a route on a ca. 6300-m peak almost directly above basecamp. On July 20, starting from a bivi at 4900m below the southwest face of the peak, we soloed some 900m of serac-threatened snow and ice to reach a steep rock wall streaked with ice smears. We climbed it in some 8 long, sustained ropelengths to reach the summit ridge at 6200m. Unfortunately the late hour, deteriorating weather but mostly horrible snow conditions (waist-deep crud over rock slabs and hard ice) combined to turn us around. We rappelled through the night and arrived back at our bivi site 22 hours after setting out. While we did not tag the summit, we were psyched to have established one of the best alpine mixed routes any of us has ever done (and this coming from a crew with routes like the Wild Thing, the Moonflower Buttress and Denali Diamond on their resumes). We also took the liberty of naming the still unclimbed peak "Lunda Sar", which roughly translates as "Second-Hand Peak".

Finally, just a few days before leaving basecamp and heading back home, Ian and I made the first ascent of Khani Basa Sar (6441 m), a reasonably major peak on the ridge separating the Jutmaru and Khani Basa Glaciers. The peak had been attempted before by several different expeditions; in fact on an earlier acclimatization foray up its south ridge we came across traces of a Korean expedition.

Leaving our bivi at 4800m at the ungodly hour of 3 in the morning, we made for the southwest rib of the peak, which neatly separates two couloirs capped by giant seracs. After a few worrying moments, when we thought that while stumbling around in the dark we might have blundered into one of the aforementioned gullies, we decided we were in fact on route and continued up pleasant névé and rock scrambling. Shortly after dawn we roped up at a short mixed wall, and continued above on 55-degree ice. The crux of the route was a narrow bit of snow ridge (of course!) leading to the summit plateau. One serac wall especially proved troublesome, but after I took a lead fall (and landed on a pleasantly soft snow mushroom) when my tools ripped out of overhanging fluff, we managed to get up it. After a short brew stop, we continued upward on much easier terrain. We summitted around 6 in the evening, and were rewarded with a panoramic view of the Karakoram, K2 included. The descent was not entirely straightforward, especially reversing the snow ridge, but we persevered and stumbled back to our bivi exactly 24 hours after leaving it.

I highly recommend the Jutmaru Glacier area at the foot of the Pumari Chhish massif: it is a wild, deserted and awesome place. There is no shortage of things to do, either: from granite bouldering around basecamp to super-alpine objectives on the south faces of Pumari Chhish. In either category our expedition has barely scratched the surface of what is possible.

Our expedition was supported by the John Lauchlan Memorial Award. We are honoured to have been chosen to receive this prestigious award, which commemorates one of Canada’s most visionary climbers.

On the Seventh Day They Rested

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"There is an advantage in wisdom won from pain." Aeschylus, 5th C. B.C.

The loneliness of the long distance runner is a long, overdrawn analogy. I say this because many of my most memorable running experiences include other people. I proposed to my fiancée on a run, I have heard of expected pregnancies, I have shared experiences and views…these runs and shared moments are rehashed over pints and coffees. The truth is, if I want to hang with most of my friends, we usually do it over a ride or run.

However the Trans Rockies Run was a new experience in many ways. It is a 6-day, 113-mile stage race through the Colorado Rockies and you run it with a teammate. The race brought together some of the top trail and mountain runners from North America for a fully supported, fantastically run event in beautiful scenery. It also includes many recreational athletes looking to enjoy common experiences and to test their bodies in stunning surroundings.

The production behind the event is world class. The over 300 participants all stayed together in a moving tent city. The point-to-point races would leave the "village" every morning to tackle the single-track and mountain roads between Buena Vista & Beaver Creek, through the heart of the White River and San Isabel National Forests, with nearly 25,000 feet of elevation gain, reaching altitudes of over 12,500 ft.

While the athletes were out tackling the trails, the event team cleared camp and rebuilt the village from the night before at the finishing location. With gear bags, tents, showers and food waiting, the racers could spend the rest of the afternoon and evening trading stories, healing wounds and recovering in preparation for the next day's run.

There is something a little strange about camping with 300 other athletes. Other than the lack of personal space and connection with nature, the cacophony of tent zippers as well hydrated athletes tried to PCPO "pee clear, pee often" became almost comical at nights. It just adds to the unique nature of the event.

With the team aspect of the event, choosing a teammate whose temperament and skill set is similar to yours is critical. As the race unfolded and fatigue levels mounted, it was interested to watch some teams begin to implode. With minor issues quickly escalating into fully blown trail tantrums. Teammates who started the week laughing and being seemingly joined at the hip would move further and further apart, trying to put as much space as possible between themselves in the meal tent every night. This whole racing together concept is quite novel to almost all of us runners.

My partner, Aaron Heidt of Vernon and I really lucked out. We only really knew each other by reputation prior to the race. We agreed to race together following the Vancouver marathon in May and kept in weekly email correspondence over the next 3 months. We kept each other accountable by sending our weekly mileage and training volumes to each other. I think we both developed a bit of a silent competition, trying to one up each other in weekly totals. We became virtual training partners, but we were still a bit blind as to how our running styles and personalities would mesh.

As August 23rd approached, I moved down to Colorado to begin acclimating and Aaron moved up to Silverstar Mountain. We both knew that we were fit and ready to roll. When we finally met up in Buena Vista Colorado, I knew almost instantly that we would be fine personality wise. We share very similar running goals, both wanting to explore our personal limits and seemed to share similar life views and outside interests as well.

To read the FULL REPORT and to view a selection of images from the event, download the PDF here