Summer 2016 Rock Climbs

Cathy and I sold our packrafts and committed to vacationing on rocks. Oh, the tough decisions! This summer, between work, courses and travel, Cathy and I climbed in Alaska, California, Idaho, France, Italy, Switzerland, Slovenia, Croatia and Colorado. Here are some of the highlights.  

In mid-July we went to the Elephant's Perch in Idaho's Sawtooth Mountains. It's a solid chunk of stone, with an easy walk off, placed in a range of crumbling stone. I'd been hearing about the Perch's since I was a kid—a dream come true. Our food bag hangs above our micro tent, to keep out the ballsy chiselers. 

A few days earlier we shook off the Alaska moss at the City of Rocks near Boise. The City was the most beautiful place we visited all summer. Massive blocks of granite in a high western grassland. I expected to see a pioneer wagon train moving across the distant prairie. 

Cathy leading the first pitch of the Mountaineer's Route on Elephant's Perch. This six-pitch route is rated a soft 5.9 and is the easiest route at the Perch. All other routes at the Perch are not soft. 

Cathy belaying me on pitch two of the Mountaineer's Route. The crux was near the top, described as an off-width, but was actually nice crack climbing.  

After a swim, I chilled in camp with Cathy and Tom. 

Rude awakening on day two. We found this first 5.10b layback pitch on Astro Elephant to be a stout, old-school pump-fest. Pitch seven had the notorious grade of old-school 5.9+ with runout face holds on a prow above 1,000 feet of air. Wow!

Cathy on the ninth and penultimate pitch of Astro Elephant. Our camp is on the granite isthmus between the lakes below. 

Cathy on Slick Rock near McCall Idaho. This 1,300-foot 5.fun route was 20 minutes from the Flanagan family reunion lodge in McCall. This year was Cathy's turn to organize the family reunion. I helped her select a strategic location. 

Tico Allule rappelling the Pyramid du Tacul above the Mer de Glac near Chamonix. Tico wanted to "romp up something" to shake off his jet lag. This classic 300-meter route was a romp, and somehow we didn't get the rappel ropes stuck on the way down. 

Andrew, Margo and Eric soothing the pain after sports climbing near Chamonix. FYI, in the US they sport climb, in Euro they sports climb. 

Rachel Spitzer acclimatizing on overhanging 5.10 at 12,000 feet on the Éperon des Cosmiques. 

Cathy and I on the Rébuffat route on the Minaret near the Argentierre Hut. 300 meters of red granite just 30 minutes from one of the best huts near Chamonix. 

Eric Larson and Cathy climbing pitch five of 15 on Motorhead at Grimsel Pass in Switzerland. The night before we drove from Chamonix to Balhmer's Tent Village in Interlakken, drank beers, slept, woke at ass-crack thirty, drove, climbed and were back in Chamonix that evening.

Cathy following Eric's lead of what felt to me like the crux of Motorhead: 6b fingertips and smearing on glacier polish. The crack is bolted just in case you forgot which continent your are on. The actual crux came on pitch eight, which Cathy led. 

Cathy and Eric using the backside clove to change lead blocks. When climbing as a team of three, it's best to climb in blocks to minimize rope snafu's. This use of the backside clove is one of several tips that Eric reminded me of on the route: 

1. Backside Clove: When transitioning from climbing to rappelling, or when transitioning block leaders as a team of three, use the backside clove to free up the ends. 

2. Air Clove: As a second, when clove hitching into the anchor between your knot and a belay device in plaquette mode, build the clove in the air, not on the locker. If you build the clove directly on the locker, it could prevent the plaquette from catching. 

3. Clove Belay: When belaying using a plaquette, you can air clove your second into a locker as they approach the belay. Belay them in the final bit by adjusting the clove.  

4. Tangle Free: When guiding two clients on two ropes, assure the ropes are tangle-free before you start leading. If clients encounter tangles when you are 150 feet away, they may untie to solve the problem. You don't want clients to untie! 

Cathy, Danny Uhlmann and Odin the Ancient Doggie at our place in Chamonix. Earlier I was sharing an apartment with Andrew in a more typical Chamonix condo with Ikea walls and a moldy carpet. The problem with this situation is that it's easy to move up in the world. It's not so easy to move back to moldy carpets. 

Much of my mental energy this summer was focussed on surviving the recyclage in Chamonix. The recyclage is a three-day continuing ed class for French mountain guides. French guides must take the recyclage every six years. Americans working in France also need to take it. I love learning about guide stuff. The problem was this course was entirely in French, and my French is not the best. Plus, French guides would like to work on Denali and that's not allowed. So I was good and nervous going in, especially without another American as wingman. 

As it turns out, the two instructors and 15 salty-dog French guides were super friendly. They translated a bunch for me and were all so kind. The French, what beautiful people. 

The recyclage focus was communication. We did a day of first aid and rescue, but that still focussed on communication. They've found that when there are more French guides working near each other the number of accidents goes up. Why? Maybe because of competitiveness, shyness, or worrying what other guides are thinking. As you may have seen in the huts; the closest thing to a guide meeting is the guide apéritif. I'd say American guides do a great job at communication. Perhaps second only to Canadian guides. 

The Anika Kuk in Paklenica, Croatia. Cathy and I spent two weeks here working, living by the ocean, climbing 300-meter routes, watching sunsets and drinking Czech beer.  

Cathy floating through the 6b+ crux of Senza Pieta. Thin holds that make you say "ouch!" The approach is five minutes up the road below. 

Higher on Senza Pieta. The last pitch was overhanging jugs far above the trail. 

One evening we drove to Zadar to see the "most beautiful sunset in the world." We used a small fried fish to measure exactly how beautiful the sunset was. 

Cathy walking through Osp, Slovenia, not far from Trieste, Italy. We climbed two days in this massive limestone sinkhole lined with sport climbs.  

We finished our Euro trip with four days in Orpierre, a medieval village in Haute Provence surrounded by sunny limestone cliffs. Most of our summer climbing had been on long routes with airy cruxes—not the best place to push your grades. We wanted to clip bolts near the ground. 

A happy wiffy clipping bolts and pulling on pumpy overhanging holds at Orpierre. 

The Chamonix stash is still growing, but so is my passion for home in Southcentral Alaska! See you next summer Euroland! 

Managing Client Expectations

Happy clients make happy guides

Near the summit of Mont Blanc, our clients huddled together and discussed the route ahead. The night before, at the Tête Rousse hut, co-guide Matthieu Desprat spent an hour telling them about the route. They knew the next section to the summit was steeper, exposed to higher wind and lower oxygen. They also knew that the summit was only halfway to safety. They were tired and the wind had increased. Among themselves, they decided to turn around and try again another day. This was an ideal situation; the guide presented the necessary information in advance and the clients felt the decision was their own.

Discussing the route at the Refuge de Tête Rousse, Mount Blanc, France.

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Mountain guides say their job has three parts: to minimize risk, to achieve the client's objective and to show the client a good time. Within these jobs, one of the more difficult is to manage the client’s expectations about an objective. Descending from an unreached summit with a disgruntled client is a bad situation for any guide. So what makes the difference between clients who agree to turn back and those who blame the guide for their failure?  

Managing client expectations takes maturity and practice. It's a skill that some career guides have mastered and newer guides should be aware of and work toward. The following are some techniques for managing client expectations. Some of the concepts are borrowed from business. Others are unique to guiding. 

1) Discuss objectives and risks.

First of all, try to understand your clients’ objectives—just as competent doctors listen to their patients before prescribing treatment. Before the trip, ask them what they want to get out of the trip. Say, for example, "What is your goal for this trip?" or "Do you want to spend time on skills or focus on an objective?" With a better understanding of your client’s desires you can present options that better match their desires. Explain the pros and cons of each and incorporate their ideas into the decision. If their expectations are unreasonable, give them enough information about the objective so they can see that another objective is better. 

Also, before the trip, discuss risk with the client. Review the dangers that will be encountered. Explain that you cannot make the trip safe, but your priority will be to minimize the risks. Explain that returning alive and in one piece is paramount and that any final decision is yours. 

Problems arise when a client does not respect or accept the guide's decision. Help alleviate the problem by pointing out and explaining the hazards and reiterating the trip priorities as you go along. 

Clients may also have a different risk tolerance than the guide. For example, if the guide feels uncertain about the snow stability and turns the group around, but a client wants to keep going, the client either has not been well informed about risks or the client has a greater risk tolerance than the guide. In this the latter case, the guide-client relationship is not compatible. On future trips, the client may be better suited to another guide with a higher risk tolerance. 

2) Frontload communication. 

Dylan Taylor briefing clients at the Hornli Hut the evening before climbing the Matterhorn, Switzerland.

Before the trip, keep the clients informed through a pre-trip letter. When possible, be available on email or by phone. This communication helps replace trip anxiety with trip anticipation. 

At the pre-trip meeting, look at the weather forecast, avalanche advisory and maps together. This gives the client a clear mental picture of the route and conditions. 

Continue to frontload communication throughout the trip. Provide information before each day and at each transition, just as you make a plan before crossing avalanche terrain. Armed with more information, the client will have a more accurate perception of the risk and will be easier to work with. 

3) Underpromise, overdeliver.

Newer clients often want concrete answers, such as being told they will get to the summit. They can have a difficult time understanding the uncertainties encountered in the mountains. If clients have high expectations and those expectations are not met, they will be disappointed. If clients have lower expectations and are surprised with a success, they will have a better experience. 

To reduce their expectations, make promises you can keep. Like, "I will make my best effort to get you to the summit, but the summit is not guaranteed." Forewarn them that the summit is one of the possible outcomes. Use phrases like, “Remember that the summit is only halfway.” Remain non-committal by using terminology like, "Let's go up to 9,000 feet and look at our options." Keep an attitude that concentrates on the journey, not the destination, so the summit is not the singular goal. 

4) Make decisions with clients.

Forest McBrian discussing the gear in his pack before a trip.

A guide's job is managing risk with good decision-making; the guide has the final call with all safety decisions. While this is a powerful position, the experienced guide includes clients in many decisions.

From the start of the trip, include clients in decision-making. The earlier the better. This serves to enhance their appreciation for the challenges and lessen their disappointment if an objective cannot be achieved. 

Select the route with your clients. Seriously consider any suggestions they make; they are often good. As IFMGA Mountain Guide Willie Benegas wrote, "Clients are your climbing partners, decision making should be done as a team." This invests them in the trip and they are better prepared to switch to plan B or C if needed. 

The ultimate goal is to have clients make key decisions themselves. If the guide provides the clients with the right information and uses gentle nudges (indirect suggestions), the clients can feel the decision is theirs. This empowers the clients and leads to a better group dynamic.  

The wisdom of groups was illustrated by Lior Zoref, who brought an ox onto the TED stage. Each person in the audience submitted their guess of the ox's weight. The low guess was 308 pounds. The high guess was over 8000. The average was 1792. The ox's true weight was 1795. 

5) Help clients cope with failure.

What if you fail to reach an objective that your client really wants? If the client is adequately prepped, it won’t be a shock. IFMGA Mountain Guide Kathy Cosley says that if a client's failure is due to their own limitations (such as lack of fitness or skill), use tact and come up with suggestions and a training schedule for the next attempt. If mountain conditions (external factors) are the reason for the failure, then the situation is more straightforward. Reassure them that the mountain will always be there, but it can't always be climbed on their terms. Tell them that's why it's called mountaineering, not summiting. Despite your best efforts, sometimes a client will be upset and time may be the best remedy.  

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It's easy to keep a client happy when things are going well. Your guiding skills are truly tested when the plan goes awry. It takes diligence to hone your skills at managing client expectations, but it's worth it. It will lead you to the grail of mountain guiding: return clients and lasting friendships. 

A checklist for managing client expectations through communication 

Prior to and during the trip

• Pre-trip letter to client?

• Ideal objective and alternates identified?

• Route and maps viewed with client?

• Weather reviewed with client?

• Risks reviewed with client?

• Client knows that minimizing risk is your priority and the final decision is yours?

• Client encouraged to focus on the journey, not just the destination?

Ski guiding

• Avalanche advisory viewed with client?

• Terrain progression explained?

• Companion rescue reviewed with client?

• Tour plan reviewed with client?

More Reading

• AMGA Professional Members Forum, Facebook.com (accessed July 3, 2015).

• Mountain Craft. Arc'teryx. (August 29, 2015).

• The Top Five Tips for Managing Client Expectations, by Annie Pace Scranton, Forbes.com, (accessed July 3, 2015).

• The Wisdom of Crowds, by Lior Zoref, TED, (accessed July 3, 2015).

212th Rescue Squadron

If you need a rescue in remote Alaska, you hope it's the 212th Rescue Squadron who shows up. These are the para jumpers in the Air Force, also known as PJs. They have the skills and the gear to pluck you from anywhere. A famous example of their work was the rescue of Jack Tackle from Mount Augusta by Dave Shuman.

Anchorage PJs are often in my avalanche classes. They are the unassuming students sitting in the back. The ones that are attentive and quiet, until it's go time.  

Bobby Schnell—one of the PJs—and I discussed training together for several years. This spring it happened. With two separate groups, we first practiced rock and ski mountaineering skills near Anchorage, then flew into the Alaska Range to apply those skills. Except for the second trip, where the Alaska Range wasn't happening, so we shifted to plan B. 

Brock Roden on day one at Emendorf Air Force Base, making plans and sorting systems. The PJs have more training than any 10 Mountain Guides combined, but their training is different than guides'. They wanted more lightweight mountain travel techniques to add to their arsenal of skills. 

Multi-pitch climbing on the Seward Highway. Although the Seward Highway ranks among the worst climbing in the US, the views are great and climbing starts at fun, and just gets better from there. 

Ted Sieroncinski, belayed by Bobby Schnell, climbing ChugachChoss above Anchorage. 

Near the top of Sunshine Buttress, a multi pitch 5.7. Standing is Matt Komatsu, the head honcho PJ, who is working on a degree in creative writing at University of Alaska in Anchorage. 

ShaneHargis (pointing) and I instructed together on the first trip. Shane has tons of experience from years of training Marines in Bridgeport California and from LOTS of personal climbing in California. His hands are like meat hooks from years of being crammed in California cracks. Although our training is different, it was very easy to work withShane. Shane and the PJs converted me to the 5:1 up crevasse rescue haul system, which puts less force on the anchor and uses less space.  

The Sterling Hollow Block is a standard autoblock backup for rappelling. One drawback to the Hollow Block is that it gets slurped into an BDATC Guide if used for progress capture, whereas standard six or seven millimeter cord doesn't get sucked in. For ski mountaineering, where skinnier ropes are used, a better belay device would be an Edelrid Micro Jul (if you can figure out the confusing thing) or PetzlReversino, which are designed for skinnier ropes. 

After a couple days of climbing and ski practice around Anchorage, we flew into the Pika Glacier in the Alaska Range. A one-hour flight direct from Lake Hood in Anchorage.

Camp on the Pika Glacier.

Base camp living.  

Christian Braunlich at a hanging belay above the Pika Glacier.

Sonny Carlos rapping back to base.

Winding through an icefall below Italy's Boot.

An early morning crust tour near Italy's boot.  

Brock likes training. 

On the last morning, before flying back to Anchorage, Christian, Shane and I pumped a four-hour lap around a bunch of mountains. 

On the second trip, fifteen hours after reading a horrendous Alaska Range forecast, we were way south, where the rock is dry and Ted and Bear had to make difficult breakfast choices. 

Chris Bailey leading pitch two. A few days earlier he'd never rock climbed. PJs learn fast.

Sieging the crux, PJ style. Bear leading, Matt Kirby cheering from above, while Chris Bailey waits his turn. 

Thanks for an incredible three weeks you guys! 

2016 Denali Ski Base Camps

Among back-to-back trips last spring I had four Denali Ski Base Camps. Each trip confirmed my Denali addiction. It's not the kind of addiction that involves manhauling for days on snowshoes. Rather it's the kind of Denali addiction that involves skiing stable powder in big mountains with passionate people from around the world. 

The first trip started with big weather. That's what can happen in big mountains. Here's Austin Ranz and Philipp Becker storm skiing in the Ruth Amphitheater. They are friends of Brint Markle (not in photo) who I skied with in 2013. 

After the rager storm, it cleared and the Alaska Range emerged in typical glory.  

Brint testing a prototype of an Avatech snow measurement tool. Brint is the CEO of Avatech, a company that has tackled long-standing problems in snow measurement and information sharing. The company is going huge this year with Mountain Hub.   

Mike Schmid and Bryan Herold, back in the Alaska Range. This was our third trip together including the Western Chugach and a Denali Ski Base Camp in 2015. 

Mike modeling and testing snow quality for me. He does a good job. 

Booting two thousand feet of powder-filled coulie.

Mike below a run we called Flat Mike. At the summit, we took photos of Flat Stanley (a paper cartoon character) for his son. While in the chute, Mike took the skier's right gully, below the massive cornice. Watching from below, Bryan and I worried we'd be getting some flat Mike photos if the 40-foot cornice snapped off and steam-rolled Mike. 

Mike doubling down on burgers.

First step into the Alaska Range with four Scots: Al Conroy, Jonny Lonie, Becca Rankine and Tom Collins. 

First tour of the trip with the Scots.

Safe zone to safe zone in pow-filled coulies.  

Mid-afternoon noodle break before another run. 

Next year I want to ski out there, in those shady slopes and chutes. Anyone keen to go exploring with me? 

Becca below an ice cliff. Leading into this line was the epitome of guiding for me: onsight in big complex terrain. A few days earlier, Canadian IFMGA Mountain Guide Cece Mortenson told me how lack of spotters had been a factor in some recent avalanche accidents in Canada, including Robson Moser. Following Cece's reminder to always have a spotter, I used a talkabout radio to leap frog a spotter down above me. At one point I made steep powder turns above this ice cliff, with Jonny spotting, until I found a sneak to skier's right, into this pow-filled glacier-bowl. My only mistake was not getting some ice for our selection of Scotch. 

Becca modeling for my camera and testing snow quality into an unknown glacial basin. This valley exited into rolling moraine and a hanging terrace back to camp. 

We camped near Jim and Sarah Sogi. They live in Hawaii and ski around the world, wherever the snow is good, which means I often see them in Alaska. Each evening we socialized with Jim and Sarah at their nearby luxury camp. 

Booting another coulie to ski it's fluffy surface. I find photos of climbing chutes more captivating than photos of skiing chutes. Perhaps it's because the untracked snow gives that feeling of wanting to know what's ahead. Anticipation is much of the allure of backcountry skiing. 

A few hours after leaving our neighborhood, Oliver Evans, Amy Downing and Ben Crawford (out of photo) summit an Alaska Range peak. Last year Oliver and I skied steep north facing powder in the Western Chugach. This year we planned to ski again, somewhere. As the date approached, conditions looked best in the Alaska Range. 

Base camp. Jim Sogi loaned me this vestibule for my Hilleberg Atlas. 

Powder and corn in early May.  

Beating the afternoon heat. 

The Broken Tooth.

Clouds cloaked our mountains on the third day, so we skied near the rocks for visibility. This was a striking chute that I'd ogled over last spring. 

Amy ready to ski.  

After two runs among the rocks, we headed back to the tent and listened to an entire season of Serial, about an Army deserter in Afghanistan. At 6pm, Pilot Paul Roderick picked us up to return to Talkeetna. 

We stopped at the Ruth Gorge base camp to pick up some French climbers. Back in Talkeetna, we realized the small town was packed with weather-delayed climbers waiting to fly in. Turns out, our flight was the first and only flight all day. Paul is good to us like that. 

Thanks for the fun trips everyone!