Winter Kit

I recently sent a note to a friend about winter kit he might consider adding to his inventory. 

Ways to keep water from freezing. 

• Water bottle parkas: 40 Below is my go to. This company has forgotten more about keeping stuff warm than any of us will ever want to know, unless you have aspirations to Denali, the high Himalaya or the poles, in which case you definitely want to know them. They also make an interesting VBL vest, which I've experimented with, for keeping the insulation on your back under a pack dry. 
• OR makes the OR Water Bottle Parka which are light and popular ones too, which I've never used, and is twice the price.  
• There are nice thermos options (I like Zojirushi and have two, one of which works a lot less well now I've dented it extensively, something that seems to happen to my thermoses eventually and should be avoided...)
• I have used an old telephoto 35mm lens case (Sundance?) which fit a one liter Nalgene perfectly. I lined it with tin foil for very cold days, but it worked fine for day trips and is much lower bulk than the alternatives (with concomitantly less insulation.) 
• It is good to be able to clip whatever you have to your backpack strap for making rehydration easy, so I put a loop on the hinge of my 40below, and a mini-biner, and you can just clip a carabiner to the OR.

Ways to keep your hands warm:

• I've had Leki mitts for very cold skiing for a couple of years and like them, and their Leki pole attachment system. The fabric inside and the individual fingers does not work well for extensive backcountry trips or other sports (fabric gets damp, making them hard to get on,) but they are great on piste (aka at the resort.)
• I just got some Black Diamond Mercury Mitts, which seem initially very good, replacing a lost mitt from a recent adventure...like all my favorite mitts and gloves they have a fuzzy pile lining, just like..
• Hestra Falt Guide Gloves. Great durable leather outer, fuzzy wool pile lining. I use the liners for my coldest weather runs, which they are great for: warm at first but they breath well as you warm up.
• I used to have a couple of pair/generations of the venerable Jalapeno Mitts (sadly discontinued) by Mountain Hardware and loved those too. I bet MH still makes a good glove and that it's good value, but check that as I don't know first hand.
• I have Leki leather gloves for skiing at the resort when it's closer to freezing or above, and not too wet. Great feeling, good marriage with their 'shark' system poles.
• I just bought some Mountain Equipment Hypercouloir gloves, which promise to be the warmest I've owned, but are currently very stiff and will take some time to break in. I hope to live that long.
• I had a great pair of Arc'teryx gloves, one of which I lost on an exciting descent (see prior post). The new version of these was way too stiff for me, so I'm trying the above Mnt Eq, which seem stiff too, but we shall see...
• My son has the OR artic mitts, and swears by them for deep cold. He often uses the outer mitt with a modest liner, and has even been known to climb in the inners (they look slippery to me.)
• Glove liners (I use smart wool or Mazama or Terramax or anything but never nothing). Just got some silk ones which are nice as they slide into tighter fitting gloves, will see about durability. 
• Folks will use handwarmers. I can't stand them, but have been known to put one in my chalk bag on a <40 degree Fahrenheit day. In winter, get a warmer glove, or a friend's belly. The wag from High Mtn has an Insta post on the old handwarmers, lighter fluid based (what could possibly go wrong...) and if you really need something that seems a bit more sustainable. If I ever find your handwarmer on the trail, skin track or ski slope you are definitely going to the special place Dante carved out at the 81/2 level of hell...

Ways to keep your face warm:

• While I've used hats, neck warmers and balaclavas and still use them, there are better options out there. For hats, I love an old much moth-eaten and patched one from a beloved shop in Williamsburg long gone. I also have some decent ones from the old Ibex and Smartwool.
• Balaclavas: These are generally the best for climbing. If I have a good hood (on the base layer, mid layer, outer layer, etc.) I'll use that for ski touring, but I like having more neck mobility when climbing, and like Colin Hayley Colin's clothing systems prefer less hoods (or well matched ones.) I have 2 'ballies' by Patagonia of different weights, slight preference for the 'Air' one, but it snags a bit, the older (made of R1?) holds it's shape better over time and snags less. I am trying one by OuterU, with a hole in the top.
• I do always have a Buff with me, and generally have a fleece neck warmer, the former tighter, the latter looser.
• I like a pile neck warmer when it's very cold. Any one will do. I have an old loose patagonia one, and a warmer smartwool double layer for very cold conditions. I also have old EMS and Climb High ones, they all work similarly.
• Speaking of Climb High, I have an epic helmet liner, definitely the dorkiest thing I own, and it's great for very cold days. I'm pretty sure mine was <$10 and originally went inside a Joe Brown helmet (you'll have to look that up.)
• OuterU face masks. This is a new item, and I think an innovative one. I have used them this winter during an unusually cold one in the northeast. I have really appreciated them when the frostbite risk is high, while mountaineering, ice climbing or skiing. Perhaps the best indication that they work is how much I regret not having one when I wish I did. 
• They (OuterU) also make a topless (hole at the top of your head) balaclava in two weights one of which I've bought but yet to try out but will soon. Since I already have a hole in my head, and my hair, right there, I'm not sure how it will work, but I do a lot of heat exchange via my bald spot, so they may be on to something.

Feet Tactics:

• Don't sweat. This is something I've been working with and it seems to help. Clean your feet, apply anti-perspirant, dry socks, warm boots, go climbing. I know others who have used VBLs in severe cold but I'm hoping not to go out in those temperatures anytime soon. Again, refer to the wag at: HMG.
• Go for fit in your boots, not brand, not looks, not thickness (except if you want to get a 6,000 or 8,000 meter boot, which, well fine, be that way.) Use lighter socks than you think, I go with a medium Smartwool or Darn Tough, only a single sock, or a very thin Dissent or Bridgedale or Smartwool in ski boots. I also have taken to Zip Fit liners, and generally any boot that fits really well. When I started climbing I had Galibier Super Guides. They were great for training weight, and I think my climbing partner still has them. Then Asolo 101s, which were a bit bulky, but very warm and worked well. In my 20s I began on Scarpas, and then my feet seemed to like the last of LaSportivas. That lasted (ahem) about a decade and then I went back to Scarpas. I'm on my second pair of the Phantom Tech Guide, and they work great for me. Similarly for ski boots I've found that Technica is a boot that fits me pretty well, and I'm on my second pair of Zero Gs. I also have their lighter boots which I like, especially if you're putting them on in the cold (the Zero Gs are terrible for that). They do seem to allow my toe to slide up towards the front when in walk mode, but that's likely something I can fix with a fitter. I'm using the GFT mostly inbounds, due to weight, and only in the Zero G, but considering the new light Espresso. The GFT is by far the best liner I've used, and I got it and any punches I've needed from Marc Stewart at Windham. I also use after market foot beds, either a superfeet, or in some cases a custom one I had made for my old Dynafit TLT 5s and 6s by Steve Sueda of Turnpike Comfort Footwear. Find someone who understands the sport you need a custom build for, and ideally does that sport at or around your level.

Base Layers

I will admit that I don't wear long john pants climbing much any more. I believe Jed Porter pointed out that he doesn't like how it feels, and I thought hell, he's got something. I got a pair of Patagonia M10 pants (very nice design Colin), and Nano-air pants, had my tailor put a matching pee zipper in the latter, and use that for about 90% of my ice climbing. It has excellent mobility, is mighty light, and moves like Jagger. And I have not been too cold or overheated as long as it's between -20 and 20 degrees F. Your results may vary. I still do use long underwear bottoms sometimes, and a top all the time.

• I have used them all, going way back to Helly Hanson's extremely stinky polypro in the 70s (be grateful if you were not there.) I also have a beloved climbing partner who when I met him thought that washing his Capiline would decrease it's effectiveness (that lasted one outing.) I have just started using fishnet. It means I can get into clubs in Berlin or go ice climbing. And it works well, vents great, and seems to be warmer. The fit is also very fine, in that it covers my tuchus. Brynje is in fact the better mousetrap. I also run at times in an old Crazy Idea skimo fishnet top. I cherish the massive amounts of fun my wife dishes on me too.
• I still use wool and poly whatever. For the former, I love Beringia's waffle type stuff, especially for cold weather skiing and ski touring, although it's become crazy expensive, so my moth-eaten ones will need to last, and even though I wash it carefully, it seems to run a bit small (made in Japan will do that at times). I have used and use both Smartwool, Ibex and I'm sure others, and they are quality, although the latter are old enough that the elastic waistbands have failed. I have some Arc'teryx ones, which are heavy, have lots of stretch and while they look the best, I'd say they are the worst of them all, except for lounging at the fire in the Goldminer's Daughter, which I've never done, so not an issue. They do have a great zip pocket which is good, and I think they are fine for resort skiing, and I like that they slide smoothly against other layers, something I value for high output sports.
• For petroleum products I like Patagonia. I have the light for warm weather bottoms, the mid for those temps, and the 'air' for very cold. If I'm camping or multi-sporting (bc skiing, climbing, freezing, etc.) I will often go with these.

Puffy Jackets (there are sooooo many; but I've had a few, so here goes):

• Feathered Friends. (I have an old Volant, my brother and a friend have had the Rock and Ice which is more robust). The Volant is short of features, but has just enough with two zip chest pockets and non-zip handwarmers. The R&S is a beast with greater length, zipped pockets, and that same Michelin man look. They also make a full expedition jacket, and a suit.
• Patagonia: For camping and mixed precip I use the first two synthetics:
• DAS or 
• DAS lite, if down may be a problem due to weather or sustained proximity to moisture (think snow caves). Generally down is better if you only have one.
• Grade VII. Since I bought it off-season at half price, it is definitely worth it. And likely even at full price, if you're going to Denali (not that I've been) or the greater ranges, it's superb I'm sure. It has great features, and I hear they have made it more durable, although I'm yet to damage mine, mostly because it's so damn cold when I use it you are almost immobilized. I have paired it with their hard-to-find but invaluable Elephant's foot, and they make a tidy package for extreme cold bivy action.
• Many other light synthetic puffy layers, almost without exception fantastic.
• Norrona: Years ago the evil god of gear Dane Burns brought my attention to a Norrona jacket which was on sale, Lyngen, and while I did not need it, for <$300 I bought it. Now it  is my go-to in the middle space. It's incredibly comfortable, soft yet durable, and has served me extremely well, as has every other piece I've bought from them. They do run slim, those svelte Scandinavians. 
• Marmot: once upon a time these were the bomb. I think that they really were the first intro my family had to super high quality down with excellent construction. I had one, my dad had one (it's still bouncing around the family, even though he's sadly not,) and they all seem to continue to be handed down. Not sure of current construction, but sure valued these in their day.
• Arc'teryx: I know everyone likes to dish on the dead bird, but they have some chops... 
• I had an early Cerium and it was and is great. I believe they are much less so now, but my son still has mine, stolen fair and square, and with washing it keeps cranking for him and he travels the world with it.
• Alpha, SV, LT, SL, etc... I have had, and still have, almost all of these. They have been very good, and still live in the hands of other members of my family (one with a cool dragon embroidery to patch the elbow I blew out.) I've had them with in the case of the LT without hoods. The LT has a nice feature of stretch panels under the arms, and is one of the best venting mid-layers along with the Patagonia nano hybrid.
• Western Mountaineering: I put them here because I use their sleeping bags, which are pretty close to peerless, and so I assume that their jackets are up there too. This is an untested assumption.

Shells - for another post, too long.

Avoiding Losing S#!7:

• Ice Axe Tethers: I've used Blue Ice which I prefer and others by Camp and BD. I have old Blue Ice individual ones which have nothing but a bungee inside webbing. you slide them through the spike and over the head, after girth hitching to your harness. Pretty elegant, but a bit of a captive solution. I have not used these much, but I have used those with clips to attach to the tools and a swivel where they connect to your harness belay loop. This prevents tangling. I can think of two ice climbs where I did use these, and they were a good idea. 

Once was a pain in the patookie, because it was a grade 5 ice climb (Kaaterskill Falls: I'm seen on Gottleib's Roof p1., my partner is rapping to the right of the main falls when it's still running; I was surprised to find the pictures (below) of it when I actually climbed it, because my focus was elsewhere, but they do show that...

As you can see, this is a route with lots of icicles which kept snagging the leashes until my management of them improved. However, there were plenty of places on that route where dropping a tool would have been highly problematic, so it was worth navigating.

More recently my son and I used them on a long moderate ice route where dropping a tool was not an option, and they served their purpose ably. I generally don't use them when cragging, but Silas has a great post on where/why/how you might want to use them: Silas' Insta. Here's a shot on the way up, and the down, both locations where leashes were a good idea:

 

And then the down...

 

 Toby eyeballing the 700' un roped downclimb with the 200' ice cliff at the bottom, which we couldn't see...but could feel...good application for leashes. Bad dad...

• Eye glasses straps (aka geek strap): I wear spectacles, and even progressives (that's like bifocals without the line.) I have used contact lenses for ice, or skiing, or just about anything especially if there is extremely high humidity. But I prefer the vision I get with glasses, so about 98% of the time that's what I wear. I do generally carry spares, even if it's just the prescription sunglasses (wore a pair of those for a week-long camping and climbing trip down the Tuolumne river after putting my regulars under my partner's ass on a ledge.) I have taken to getting Julbo to make custom glacier glasses or transitions, and do like these when I think that things might get rough, but often just wear my glasses with Croakies or Chums of some kind or another. The Julbos come with a superior dedicated setup. In a pinch, I've used the small cord from my compass, and have seen Andrew McLean use that plus a bit of glue to permanently attach it. I am reminded of a story or two about folks not using these. Once my brother was leading a great Adirondack route called Esthesia. The other was the great Mike Freeman describing the one terrifying summer he did most of the Gunks' 5.11 R routes, and the route was To Have and To Have Not. In both cases they took terrific whippers, only to have their eyeglasses end up off their faces, landing in their hands. Not as much of an issue when you're cragging, but a big effing problem on a large alpine face where vision may be your key to route finding.

Other Items:

• Bigger pack. Ours at 30-35 Liters were fine for a small scale cragging day or as a large lead pack, but not if we'd had any more gear. 45-55 Liters if we had mixed gear double ropes snowshoes poles etc. I was interested to see Matty Bowman's kit includes a large pack and then a lead pack, which I often see guides lead with. It makes sense as they carry emergency gear too, but I know folks who don't like to trail a rap line, need this and that, and a small lead pack can be great for that too. 10-20 L is about right.
• Non-dark glasses. I use my street pair with a tether. Transitions can be backup, but both of ours got very dark on a not-light day, due to UV off of snow. It was a tad dark on the Dark Side...And sunglasses are a must in any snowy setting where you might get sun.
• Potty kit, forgot mine, needed it, don't forget that...hand sani at a minimum and kleenex or tp is gentler than snow when it's 5 below...
• Repair and First Aid (I had the latter and a few Allen wrenches). I keep them small, but do keep them. I try to refresh them every 3-6 months, and replace what I used and remove what I have never used. I do add gear for major trauma (SAM splint, major wound management bandages like a SWAT-T tourniquet in some situations like deep tours. I'm no expert, and WFR training offered by schools like Solo and NOLS is a great idea if you want to know more about this topic, and we all should.
• Double ropes are often better on a dodgy medium like ice for redundancy, retreat, lower impact force, etc. It is a pain sometimes, but the escape from Diagonal would have involved less lost gear if we had had doubles...
• Quick draws. I went and bought some as my son has half of mine. Easier with gloves and carabiners should be big ideally. And I've made fun of partners complaining about small carabiners, but for winter they are right: small clips are not the way to go with less dexterity. I only use smaller carabiners to rack cams on larger racks..
• Snowshoes and poles. Duh. And a means to attach them to pack such that you can climb up and over with them. I also prefer a pole that collapses small, so 3 section, and the locking mechanism must be foolproof (ie, Black Diamond style).
• Satellite rescue (have one, generally carry it (InReach 1.0). It's good idea but if it's that cold self-rescuing is really your best option, see double ropes above, tarp below.)
• Tarp/rescue sled. I generally bring one ski touring but the same logic holds for ice. I also will sometimes bring a bothy, I think that's what the euros and limeys call it. I have one by Norrona Windsack. It's probably a lifesaver in the right situation, but I've not had to deploy it as yet.
• Better climbing gloves. My best warm ones are now by Rab (Latok) I am looking at Mountain Equipment Hyper Couloir. Used to have ARC'TERYX but lost 1 and new build is stiff and a non-starter, too bad because the old Alpha SV was a very nice glove indeed.
• Map and compass (I usually have the former on phone, and a real compass but paper maps are key if you think there is any chance you'll really need them.)
• Headlamps. Yes plural. Backup can be a Petzl Bindi, but the main one should be one you can ski or route find by at full dark thirty.
• Resources:
• Andy Kirkpatrick - the man is an endless source of great information on how to suffer in style.
• Alpine Savvy
• Cold Thistle - Dane has not been as active in posting recently, but it's worth reading his old stuff
• WildSnow - Lou Dawson was a key influence on my early ski mountaineering and bc skiing years
• TeatonAT - similar to Lou, Steve Romeo, aka Rando Steve, was a key influence early days, may he rest 
• Climbing Ice - a must read by Yvon Chouinard
• Skagit Alpinism, by https://colinhaley.com/. 
• Add your own here - there are so many and I have not even gotten into books.

Mount Washington Winter Trip Report

I. Planning and Background

I always wanted to go up to Mount Washington's eastern ravines for a few days of both climbing and skiing. I'd done one or the other, but not really both. If we climbed, it was to climb; if we skied, any climbing was in the service of that.

So this December I hatched a plan to head up and do both, and my 18‑year‑old son Tobias was my partner. He'd been there before, skiing the lower sections of Hillman's Highway and climbing it one year when the neve was great for climbing to the top but not yet skiable.

We had both seen the spring circus, which is rightly notorious for human frailty and foolishness. We enjoyed the cold‑weather camping at Hermit Lake, which does not attract too many others despite the area’s heavy traffic. And we wanted more.

Caveat emptor.

II. Approach to Hermit Lake

The day after Christmas we drove up from Brooklyn early, arriving at Pinkham Notch just after noon. Knowing the weather was supposed to be variable—even by the standards of the area—we left our wiper blades up.

We shouldered 60‑pound packs with camping, ice climbing, and skiing kit, plus 4–5 days of food and fuel. We managed the hike of a couple of miles and less than a couple thousand feet of gain and made camp without much fuss, except for the chill. That night the thermometer registered a low of 4°F, but we wanted for nothing, stayed warm, and slept a dozen hours.

III. Into Huntington Ravine

We woke about an hour before dawn at 6. The cold slowed us down, and by 8 we set out for Huntington Ravine.

About five minutes after leaving the lean‑to, we realized we were going nowhere fast in thigh‑deep snow, so we returned for our skis. Things moved faster then, and we covered the mile or so between the ravines (Hermit Lake sits below Tuckerman’s).

We wanted to climb ice, since screws were the only protection we had. Odell’s and Pinnacle Gully—grade 2–3 classics offering 2–4 pitches of alpine ice—were the obvious targets.

IV. Skinning and Climbing Odell’s

We skinned high into Huntington with Toby leading. A snowshoer and another climber trailed us; the snowshoer headed to Central Gully, which we had considered for descent.

Where hermit pines gave way to scrub bushes, we stowed our skis. I thought I made a waypoint on my GPS. Toby was using his watch and I my phone as navigation aids, having unwisely left the map at camp.

We booted to the bottom of Odell’s. Conditions looked decent: no open water, solid snow and ice, roughly 700 feet of climbing followed by about 500 more to the Alpine Garden.

We started climbing around 10. Over the next 4–5 pitches, progress was slow but steady. A few screws protected modest Grade‑3 bulges; only one belay relied on screws. Others were shrubs, snow seats, or a mix.

We topped out around 2:20. The sun hit us for the first time, lifting our spirits. It was Toby’s first true technical alpine route—he even led a pitch or two. Tired and cold, we prepared to descend.

V. Assessing Descent Options

We followed cairns to locate the Huntington Ravine Trail, roughly aligned with Central Gully.

I had descended Central two decades earlier, mid‑winter, with Will Mayo, after climbing Black Dike and Fafnir in a morning. Will suggested Central—“it sets up nicely”—and he was right.

This time, though, there was considerable snow but not enough to fill Central. We followed markers a few hundred feet down. The trail is considered the most challenging eastern approach to the summit, and the iced‑over steps made that obvious.

Left of us lay Diagonal Gully—simpler at the top, yet guarded by a long ice bulge at the bottom. We couldn’t see the bulge, only the snow fan below, and optimistically wondered if we could sneak around it.

We weighed hiking back up to Lion Head, then returning for skis in deep snow. Instead, we headed down Diagonal. The couloir felt well‑consolidated: loose but not too loose, with firm footing and axe placements.

VI. Rappels and a Difficult Descent

After 400–500 feet we reached the rollover above the ice cliffs and evaluated options. To the right, indistinct lines trended toward Yale Gully. Left, a steep scruffy gully.

Toby spotted a small but sturdy tree—about four inches thick. We slung it and built our first 100‑foot rappel with our single rope.

Descending, I faced two choices: get onto the ice and rappel off screws for an unknown distance, or traverse left, which I did. A first screw hit snice and didn’t bite, but two better placements higher up allowed me to equalize an anchor and bring Toby down.

Dusk was coming fast. We donned headlamps and set a second rappel. Toby pointed out a patch of snow high and left that could spit us onto the snowfields. I stomped a platform and brought him down. One of my gloves—leashed—still managed to vanish into the darkness.

We downclimbed another hundred feet to the alpine brush. Toby trended unerringly toward our ski cache—critical, because the waypoint I thought I’d set wasn’t there. Exhausted, we paused, then pushed on.

A tough descent led through creek crossings and onto the cat tracks by the Albert Dow memorial rescue cache. A GPS error led us briefly astray; Toby recognized it and we reversed painfully. Eventually we reached Hermit Lake, refilled water, and collapsed at camp feeling lucky.

VII. Rest Day and Weather Trouble

The next day was a rest—or “spa”—day. We slept in. Toby might not have risen at 8 had I not gotten up to enjoy the warming morning. We ate and drank aggressively to fend off cramps.

At the caretaker’s porch, Sunday crowds watched skiers drop the Tucks headwall. We had mild FOMO, but no actual desire to ski on our battered legs.

Weather forecasts shifted rapidly—from promised heavy snow to freezing sleet and rain. Tuesday called for 100‑mph winds.

VIII. Meeting with Blake and Heading to the Gulf of Slides

We planned to meet Blake Keogh, a respected local guide, at 8 a.m. Rain started at 2 a.m., with winds building. Dawn brought classic New England misery.

We broke camp—those century‑mark winds didn’t feel like the way to end a wet day—and met Blake, who arrived soaked but positive.

We headed a short distance down the Sherburne Trail, found the entrance to the Graham Trail (marked by rusty tin can bottoms on birches), and contoured south toward the Gulf of Slides. We cached big packs, skinned into fragrant pines, and enjoyed the sheltered skinning after so much alpine exposure.

A recent D3 avalanche had ripped through Gully #1. As we approached through forest to the debris, Blake reminded us we were in avalanche terrain—though once we emerged the snapped trees made that clear.

IX. Booting Up and Skiing Down

We reached the main gully, donned crampons, stowed skis, and started boot‑packing. About 1,000 feet up, we discussed descent lines. Blake recommended a line that skirted below the crown and avoided the ice cliff.

We transitioned near the crown. I was slow—still wearing crampons, skins still on—and wind made everything harder. Eventually, we were ready.

Blake dropped first, radioed back, Toby followed, then me. The snow skied well despite torrential conditions. But it was clear that with rising winds and dropping temperatures, ice was coming.

We reached the debris fan. Blake suggested another lap; I throat‑slashed my veto. My legs were thinking about the ski out with 60‑pound packs. Blake reiterated a theme: avalanche hazards mattered, and those proved manageable that day, but this day the weather governed everything.

X. The Exit and Debrief

We whipped down the trail, wrapped around to the traverse low point, skinned back for our packs, and descended the Sherbie. Heavy packs made it deliberate, but still enjoyable. Warm temps softened the ice patches.

The parking lot—sand‑covered glaze—was the technical crux of the day. We tiptoed around a backhoe and stowed soaked gear before heading into Pinkham Notch for a debrief. It’s a ritual I plan to repeat.

Blake answered questions and unpacked decisions. We discussed future options—the Great Gulf, Owens, and beyond. Despite the freezing rain and soaked layers, we felt grounded and content. Toby and I knew we’d found our East Coast ski mentor.

XI. Reflections on Decision Making

I’m not happy with my decision‑making on the Odell’s descent. The climb was fine, if late, but the descent down an unclear, risky route was not the right call.

Toby apologized for the gear we abandoned; I told him it was the least of my concerns. He was rock‑solid all day—up and down—helping at key moments and demonstrating the makings of a strong alpinist.

In retrospect, we should have dropped skis at Lion Head and taken the known descent. It might have cost us the climb, but I’ve descended Lion Head in the dark before; we likely could have handled a bit more delay. Starting earlier would also have helped.

Once engaged in the descent, though, I stand by each tactical decision. Toby handled 400+ feet of no‑fall downclimbing with composure. When we became cliffed, he kept searching for solutions; one worked. Later, he caught a route‑finding error when it mattered most. Most importantly, he never quit—critical when it’s freezing and you’re out of food and water.

We did what we could with the situation we created. I’m content with the learning and with the calm we maintained under stress. And it made skiing with a guide—even in freezing rain in an avy path—deeply enjoyable.

Ski and Binding Quivers for the Backcountry

Disclaimer: I'm lucky if I ski 10-20 days a year. While I ski every year, and the proportion varies, maybe half of that is backcountry on average. I have much less disposable time than skis. That stated, I love a well-made pair of skis (or boots, or skins, or poles), and they do have a positive impact on those days sliding on snow.

Low on the Vallé Blanche in 2011

Photo © Sylvain Ravenel

 When I first skied in Chamonix, I had graduated from the old rust-colored Garmont boots to their better blue cousins. But what really moved the needle was my graduation from some old skis and bindings to my first pin binding setup. The old ones were now 20+ year old Black Diamond (likely made by Atomic) 'randonee' skis, which were actually very stiff, narrow, kinda heavy skis with Silvretta EZ-Gos on them (I still use them for approaches in climbing boots.) The 'innovation' was a Dynafit TLT Superlights on a truly lovely pair of Trab Stelvio skis. Not picking up an extra pound with every step was pretty transformative, and when a few years later I moved on to the Dynafit TLT5 boot with it's butter-like walk mode, I was sold on the transformative power of lighter weight gear. And because I was and am an avid reader of Dane's blog, https://coldthistle.blogspot.com/, I started learning more about them, and my go-to resource since then, Jason and the team at skimo.co in SLC.

I could still ski on the Stelvios and the TLT superlights with those TLT5s, and sometimes do. I had a decent pair of Ascension skins from BD fitted to them which are still going strong about 15 years later. One thing I did not buy with them was a leash. My first time off the Midi I almost lost a ski right at the top in high wind. Never again. I understand the convenience of brakes, and the logic of shedding skis in an avy, but had I missed the 20 klicks of the descent I would have been very unhappy. I improvised some leashes with thin cord at Snell Sports right after taking the train down from Montenvers and then went and got some proper freaking leashes (ATK, Dynafit, whatever the credible folks make.) I will ski with brakes happily at times and with nothing when appropriate, but would not be skiing those Stelvios today had I not recovered a split second gust which could have easily taken one away. And another thing. I was up in Tucks for the spring (aka the silly season) with my then pre-teen. We were being joined by a very solid partner Mr. Max White https://www.thisismaxwhite.com/ approaching us from lower down Lunch Rocks. He started hollering as a group of 2 adults and 4 kids younger than my guy were crossing below Lobster Claw. Max was yelling because a runaway ski was looking to make a kid kebab. Fortunately the group hustled along, and the hoards saw it too, so nobody was hurt. But I still like leashes.

However, I have not been able to resist the profusion of amazing skis the market and some very special craftsmen and women have brought us over the past decades. After the Stelvios I was looking for a ski with more rocker and sidecut. I might claim that was because I knew what I was talking about, but that would be a lie. I had read extensively about the Denali by Dynafit, and liked what I read. For me the 99 mm waist would be a powder ski, comparatively, and some duder convinced me to go with 184s, almost as tall as me. Fortunately I do generally ski them in powder, and so the length has not been an issue, but Andrew McLean once told me that 180 is about as long as you want to maneuver on a steep powdery kick turn, and generally he's correct, unsurprisingly. That ski does turn like a dream in a bit of soft snow, and is surprisingly able to navigate hardpack, on piste, Tatra-style grabber slush and lots of other stuff. And they are remarkably light, especially with the TLT Low Tech. I do not always feel as secure on those bindings as I would on one with more mass, but situations where I lock the toe are the same across all bindings (it's steep, it's hard/chattery, you better not fall,) so I think the weight tradeoff is worth it, even if I have generally rocked heavier bindings on my skis since then.

Andrew McLean on Kessler during a dreadful snow year (2012) 

Photo probably © by Mike McGurl

Once I had a chance to take advantage of skis that were 80 mm or 99 mm in the waist, it was pretty easy to choose: the former generally suited the east, the latter the west. I was hooked, and not due to skis that felt hooky. In spite of detuning skis and tuning skis aggressively, which I enjoyed until my son surpassed me and took over most of those duties (he won't let me touch them much anymore...such a perfectionist,) I did discover the perils of too well-waxed skis at times. Once camping with Andrew we ended the day on a flat shelf heading to the tent, and my freshly waxed boards made for a hilariously slow progress on about 150 feet of terrain I could barely move across with a 6 inch shuffle. And more recently said son waxed our approach skis so well we almost ended up in low orbit descending Pitchoff North Face in climbing boots...

After that, I have more of a Q&P approach when the goal is to tune approach skis (see the legendary Doug Coombs Quick and Painless ski tune.) And it's largely to preserve the ski that I tune, except for edges, because I don't yearn to go crazy fast. And my son still won't let me near the tools I accumulated over many years because I do such a half-assed job compared to him. I even had the chance to compare his tune side-by-side with a very well-respected shop, and his blew them away (in fairness theirs was largely machine made.)

In the years that followed I wandered a bit, getting some very short mountaineering skis I've rarely used (Atomic Ultimate 78s with Low Tech binders) and a nice pair of Moment Vertex (basically a lighter Stelvio with some rocker) which introduced me to Plum bindings. The Plum Guide has been a mainstay for me and the family for a while, and while I have zero issues with the Dynafits I own, I do like the burliness of the Guide, even though I managed to ski off the toe latch once (pilot error) barely avoiding a new skier at Jay who turned into me, but not before clipping off said latch. I have those same Guides on a pair of Black Crow Navis Freebirds, which are a classic big ski mountaineering ski I love to use in Jackson or anywhere you get real powder to play around on. If I need a bit more ski, I use their Atris, which I have in a crazy 189 cm length due to a bro deal from Max and mounted with Shifts, which are inelegant but perfect as I use them primarily on piste and sidecountry. 

More recently I have gone back to Trab, getting a pair of their Magico skis with a Hagen/ATK Core 10 binding. It is a beautiful setup, especially for light/fast missions and mountaineering where you want <90 in the waist and <180 in length. It also boasts the only skin system which rivals that of Dynafit's own version of remove from the tip, and appears to me to be a bit more secure. While limiting your skins to that ski, the proprietary tip or tail attachment of the Dynafit or Trab Attivo is well worth a look, especially as the hips have never been so flexible in my case. I have also used race tip bungees and like that system for lighter setups and quick transitions. Speaking of skins, when I'm not using the proprietary type I like Pomocoas, and have some Mohair for the Navis which are perfect, maybe a bit heavy compared to their pink cousins ('Free'?) which Toby sports on his Corvus Freebirds, but fine for me over the years.

Now I have been contemplating the gap between my 85 mm Magicos and the 99 Denalis....something wicked this way comes.

 The Eyes Have It

I recently responded to a Redit post on this, so I thought I'd share it here too. The original post is at: Alpine Eyewear.

I use a combination of lenses and prescription glasses and have significant myopia and astigmatism, and need progressives/readers. 

I disagree with the 'you don't need Cat 4' comment: why would you take the chance? Yes, Cat 3 are in fact fine most of the time, but play it safe and you never, ever want snow blindness. 

Here's what I run: alpine climbing is generally lenses with the exception of overnights. For lenses I have Acuvue Oasys with Hydraclear Plus, and can clean them daily. I like Julbos over that, either a darkening sunglasses (Reactiv, Cat 0-3) or if on glaciers Cat 4s. If it's overnight I'll consider a prescription version of the Julbos, or sometimes bring both. 

For rock climbing I prefer prescription progressives, and most often a standard optician sunglass is fine at low elevations, or clear on a gray day, but sometimes the Julbo Reactivs. I can see granular details needed especially when placing trad gear or figuring out footwork. 

Toby on The Empress, Chapel Pond Slab, Adirondacks, 2024

For backcountry touring, I like lenses, and take tiny folding readers (2 pair, they can get lost...) I like my old Zeal sunglasses or for the down goggles. Same setup for on piste/inbounds skiing. I have used both outfits like SportRx and Julbo to grind high quality lenses and find that Julbo is my first choice, but both are good. In the US SportRx is faster, although Cat 4s take longer. Julbo's US service team is excellent too.

Topping out on Mineville Pillar, Adirondacks, 2025 (c) Tom Lannmann

Great Day at The North Face of Pitchoff, Adirondacks, 2025

Another Jacket? New Pants too??

Yes, and a new pant system, and and and. Those who know me well, know that I have very poor impulse control for getting new kit. Fortunately this does not extend to other areas of life (much, anymore), thanks to years of hard earned experience and sobriety. So when I got a new Patagonia M10 jacket and pants this past year and this year, it was not such a shocker. What was shocking is how good these simple pieces are for what I use them for, alpine and ice climbing.

Topping out on Mineville Pillar in the Adirondacks, photo (c) Tom Lannamann

First, the pants. I got these first because I read about everything Colin Hayley writes on the subject of tools for alpine climbing (Colin Hayley on Layering). He's annoyingly and consistently right, which is not surprising given the number of miles he has on his odometer and his intellect.  The latter seems healthy and high functioning in spite of some youthful indiscretions of his own admission (who has times for psychedelics anymore anyway...) When some years ago he started writing about pants patterned on martial arts pants, or the old Gramicci gusseted crotch ones, I was interested. These were the best for high stepping and the kind of mobility climbing of any kind requires. And the M10 pants live up to that.

Some observers have asked if these relatively baggy pants don't get caught up in crampons. Not at all, and normally my pants are a patchwork of Tyvec tape (see above link.) They do exactly what they are supposed to do, and roll up into the size of a small (1-200 ml) water bottle. Jacket is similarly compact, maybe a 500 ml water bottle and much less weight. They are both masterpieces of brevity. Two chest pockets on the jacket and a two-way zipper for all your venting needs. A great hood which works well over a helmet and/or balaclava, and wrist cuffs which can go over or under gloves and mittens. Pants with a zipper to pee through, a thigh pocket, loops for attaching boot bungies, and a nicely rubberized waistband with no drawstring. It's as close to a perfect setup as I've ever had. 

I run warm and thought it was going to be too hot without zips to dump heat from the pants, and had the same concern for the M10 Jacket. Not so. Under the pants thus far (a cold winter in the northeast) I wear just a pair of Nano-Air pants (more on these to follow) and have never overheated in below freezing temperatures. As Mark Twight wrote, if it's above freezing and you're going alpine climbing, go home (most of the time.) I have skied with full kit and not overheated. I do shed the jacket on approaches, and for hard leads I just use it over a long john top and remove my mid layer (also Nano-Air). I'd probably shift to long johns under the pants for temperatures straddling freezing. It's a dynamite system and I have been tweaking mine for years. This beats other solutions by Patagonia, dead bird, TNF, Norrona and many other very fine manufacturers. I still use my tried and true Beringia setup for skiing, both touring and resort, but otherwise I'm all-in with this setup.

Shake your Booties

Benjamin Dulchin on lead on Poco Moonshine's Upper Tiers (ADKs)

After climbing packs, no item of gear has obsessed me more than boots, and in fact they are more critical by far. The first pieces of critical mountaineering kit I owned were a pair of double alpine boots, the Asolo 101s, a pair of Galibier Superguides for summer mountaineering and a beautiful Marmot winter sleeping bag, the much-loved Gopher. I still have the latter (as well as some Julbo glacier glasses) but I sold the former Asolos, which were yellowed with age by then. The Superguides were still to be seen on my long-time climbing partners feet until very recently when he started a long-term loan of another friend's LaSportival Nepal Tops, but I think they get broken out when he takes unwitting victims for a day of ice cragging. These items were laid in before I graduated high school, so early 1980s.

Boots have changed dramatically and for the better. Where the Superguides were over 7 pounds for the pair in my size 46 (US 12), now much better boots are closing in on half that, with the Nepal Top topping 4 pounds for the pair.

I have found that my feet change over time, and that generally dictates which boots I prefer. I was in the above-mentioned Asolos and Super Gs for years, but sometime (90s?) I got a pair of Scarpa Assaults, which were like Super G's on steroids. I love them for their ability to climb ice, and mixed, but they were heavy and a bit of a bear on the hike in. I also had some trouble with frost nipped toes, generally not an issue for me, and I think it was in part because they were quite stiff (good for vertical ice) and high, and mostly because they were single boots.

After that I found that every decade or so my rock climbing shoes would switch from fitting in LaSportiva's last to Scarpa. I have no idea why that is, but I have a low volume, low arch foot, with a bit of a wide forefoot, and each last (shape the boot is made on) is different. When the Assaults became too assaulting, I moved to some early generation LaSportiva Baturas (before the Boa was added I think) and they were very good. I think that I sold them, don't recall, but more lately have had 2 generations of the Scarpa Phantom Tech:

Outdoor Gear Lab Phantom Tech review

The first generation was not perfect, with slippery dyneema-like laces which were barely long enough and had to be double knotted to keep tied (most of the time,) and a bit heavier than ideal. The more recent version is amazing, lighter, warmer, and without the lace issue. I would even wear them for summer alpine outings if we had those and I did not own another pair of Scarpa singles (the Rebel?). These were sold to me by the wily Rich Gottlieb at Rock and Snow. He in his defense had sold me a barely used pair of Technica hiking boots I loved for years (and got for <$100.) When they finally blew, I was looking for hiking boots, but he got me into the Scarpas, and they have served well, including my teen who has used them even in pretty chilly temps until this year. But the Phantom series (there is a 6000 and an 8000) are the way to go, for me, if you want an integrated gaiter (pretty standard and key these days) on a light, technical and generally killer boot.

My son recently won on Instragram a beautiful pair of LaSportiva boots, the G5 Evo, and I expect those to be extremely effective, and his foot likes the LaSportiva last, but no trial runs as yet.

Ski touring in the Tatra (Slovenian side)

Some great links to further research the topic:

Outdoor Gear Lab 2024 Mountaineering Boots

Trailspace 2024 Mountain Boot Reviews

Cold Thistle (search for boot)

Cold Thistle (on boots)

Alpine Starts

My 15-year old partner (and son) Tobias and I went up to New Hampshire's legendary Mt. Washington for some early season alpine action. Although an increasingly-common low tide year (until just after our mid-December trip), we had good conditions for what we were looking to do. We have been to Tuckerman's Ravine several times in the spring for ski mountaineering, and I have climbed in Huntington Ravine over many years and routes. But Tobias had never done an alpine route, and that was the objective for this trip. We were supposed to have a third, which I favor when venturing into technical terrain, but poor health intervened and it turned out being just the two of us.

The approach went a bit faster than usual, due to the lack of ski gear and perhaps better fitness, or that's what Tobias said of my performance. Given the rare compliment I'll take it. We did not leave Pinkham Notch until about 1pm on a Saturday and made it to the Hermit Lake area in about 2 hours and 20 minutes with packs weighing in at just under 40 pounds. We dropped camping gear in a lean-to and hiked up to the base of the bowl in Tuckerman's ravine. Compared to our spring trips it was bone dry, but the standard wealth of early-season ice was there, and we discussed what route options would be best for our outing the next day. While Tucks had Open Book and some pitch-long ice left of Left Gully, Tobias was hankering to get back over to Hillman's. We had heard from a descending soloist that it was in good condition, and we'd topped out just below the lip last April due to my failure to bring crampons (never again.)

Camping was enjoyable if cold, with the windless night coming in about zero Fahrenheit. The highlight was when it was discovered that I'd not only failed to charge my headlamp but lost my backup. Tobias only crowed a little when his backup saved my bacon. The next morning we started later than we planned because even with 11 hours of sleep I neglected to remember that the alarm on my phone was not likely to work if said phone was off, another chestnut for the young man. But we started out at 7 and headed over to Hillman's. The bottom was dry with audible water beneath, and the first several hundred feet passed smoothly under us with increasing neve and less bushwhacking as we rose higher. Finally, about halfway up, Tobias wisely asked for the rope and we tied in and started pitching out the top half of the route.

There were a few ice bulges but most of the route was very firm neve, and until the last few hundred feet the belays were acceptable. A couple of screws for the first one, some slung bushes one might call trees, a semi-hanging belay from a rock anchor and one final rock thread created by beating a few rocks down on the lad.

As we neared the top there was some flagging, but we were steady if slow at our pace. We probably started climbing around 8 and topped out around noon, about an hour after my target time for safely continuing to the summit, another cause for Tobias to crow about due to the late start. But in fact the cloud cover was only a couple of hundred feet about the lip, and it was not the right day for the summit, which I have never visited. We started contouring around the lip of Tucks heading for the Tuckerman Ravine trail. 

The view down into Tucks was a bit sobering, and since neither of us had been up the trail we opted for Lion Head which I'd travelled many times. 

We got down it keeping crampons on the entire way, but there were only a few patches of ice and it would have been viable with microspikes as on the approach. We picked up our camping gear, grabbed a last look at the ravine and headed down for the long drive home in a light lovely snow.