Matching Kit

I often think about what my partners bring, because it has an impact on my fun, experience and safety. I'm so excessively equipped relative to my objectives that the only real justification for having more gear is to share it. Usually it's sunglasses and gaiters. Recently I got some spare AT bindings, and mounted them as I'd yet to find an East Coast partner who had a ski setup which could be attached to climbing boots. When my oldest climbing partner excluding my brother and I went to the Adirondacks for a few days recently, most of what we get most years, this lesson was driven home hard. I had opted to use my very comfortable AT setup for a long, 5 mile plus approach by skis to Avalanche Lake. My partner had 35 year old Galibier Super Guides I'd bought at age 13. He correctly called for a break within the first mile, feeling the hot spots on his heels, first applying 2nd skin, then tape, then duct tape, and eventually giving up and sucking it up. We arrived to find no ice, which was just as well because it was 3 pm and February above 45 latitude. We skied out, using our climbing gear as training weight all the way. When we emerged after skiing from 11:30 am to 6:30 pm, the car took us back to a friend's hut, where much scotch, ale and dinner was applied to the raw-to-the bone heels of my partner. I'm quite sure if I had the same setup we would have turned around by mile 2 or 3 of our 11 mile 'taking the tools out for a walk'.

Timing

Ice is a finite resource. To get out safely I generally get up unreasonably early. I can't imagine climbing under another party being fun, and having fun is what it's about. I enjoy the edge, but not because I've put myself in a poor position. I had 4 hours recently before 20+ folks turned up at what is admittedly the practice cliff closest to New York City. But I still get very nervous when there are that many folks around, no matter how well we coexist.

Conditions

There is a lot of talk in skiing and climbing about what condition the route or objective is in at a given point in time. One of the reasons sports like ski mountaineering and mountain climbing are so compelling is the variable nature of the medium. The British have elevated this peculiar practice to a high art form, constantly obsessing about when climbs are 'in good nick' and generally that means it's not pouring rain. Even a bit of hoarfrost seems to denote great winter climbing conditions in their book. I have been a bit spoiled by the skiing in the Wasatch in the past three years. My first attempt to rediscover ski touring was in Lamb's Canyon, and even though it had not snowed in about a week my very kind hosts found some great north facing slopes with lovely powder, accessed by about half a dozen miles of skinning (or in my case learning to skin.)

The next two years were similar, only better. I reached out to my friends from year 1, feeling they'd done their bit with beginners, asking them and some other friends of friends who I might use as a guide: I was very clear that my understanding of snow conditions, and the Wasatch in particular, was no match for the objective hazard. One of the resources I tapped into was Andrew McLean, a legendary ski mountaineer, and a prince of a guy in my limited experience. He offered to take me out and I've been taking him up on it ever since. The first two years it seemed wise due to the incredible conditions and his uncanny ability to find new and fresh fields of play any day. This year he was invaluable because the conditions were truly dreadful. The upside of this is that the two other locals I introduced to Andrew could only outpace me so much, in spite of living above 8,000 ft and being super fit individuals unfamiliar with a life of commuting from Brooklyn to New Jersey. Nonetheless, it was a great time with great friends, which goes to show conditions are nice but not everything.

Dig the New

Thanks to the generosity of Jim Lawyer, I had the chance with my great friends Benjamin Dulchin and Philip Drew to sample a bit of winter, finally. We went to Jim's hut and on our last day hit a spot not in the guides, Hoffman Notch, just east of the Northway at North Hudson. It was fantastic, and an excuse to post photos. It was also a good weekend to shake out new gear. In Philip's case, he actually had boots which were less than 20 years old (the old Asolo Supersofts in my folks' basement finally succumbed to the mice,) renting from The Mountaineer in Keene Valley. Benjamin scorns such modernity, sporting the Galibier Super Guides I got in my teens (yes they're about 30 years old.) Regardless we had a great time, and Hoffman in particular showed how there is always something new under the sun if you're willing to walk a ways.

Bonking Bigtime for Beginners

If you like to have fun outdoors, we've all had that experience of the calories out exceeding the calories in: aka 'bonking'. Pushing through this is part of the price of admission. Last winter Andrew McLean gave me and Mark McGurl a little tour of his backyard and coming back from the backyard was, as it often is, a bit more lengthy than the pleasurable and sunny ski there. While we enjoyed 5-10" of fresh power skiing down into a very nice valley, we had to work to enjoy the 15-25 mile per hour gusts along a several mile long ridge back to our re-insertion point. Fortunately Andrew came well armed, with hot tea and some of those little jelly bellies which I've got to remember to get this year. Unfortunately, Mark, while quite the hale fellow, neglected to even eat breakfast, and by now was definitely feeling the over/under on his calorie deficit. We were lucky to be well equipped and while the final run back down the Canyons was a bit sloppier even than usual, it was a great time. The kind of great time you find brings you back for more, even when you swore you'd never do it again at the time. I think we might even get Mark's brother out there this year....

Boot(less)

There are many excellent posts on the 'pedial extremity' topic lately, coming from blogs like Cold Thistle http://coldthistle.blogspot.com/2011/07/your-feet.html, covering everything from socks to insoles to climbing boots to skiing. I don't think I can hope to obsess quite so much as Dane does, but there seems to me to be a place for the less rare air beginners out there. In particular, I used up a bit of my foot karma early on, squeezing into La Sportiva Mega's which were not only shaped nothing like any foot I've ever seen, but about 2 sizes too small. Which is what you get for taking advice from climbers who have only barely survived themselves.

In my later years I've started to see feet/knees/back as the key continuum of good health for hikers, climbers and skiers, and have a few things I'd like to have done better earlier. One is wear only shoes that fit, as opposed to those which look good. This is a bit of a challenge for those of us with any aspirations towards fashion, and I know my brother for one has had a pair of NF trainers banned from the home for offending the fashion police (they look fine to me, but other sources agree with the enforcer, his wife.) I've only had one really good boot fitting (thanks to Jan Wellford of the Mountaineer,) and it's something I would have done much sooner if I knew how positive the results would be. I tried on shells with a blind eye to what looked good, and went for a relatively old design (Garmont Mega Ride), because it fit my relatively low volume foot. Given the recent developments in very light boots, and the expansion of these into climb and ski setups, I may revisit soon, but taking the time to sit with a good fitter (and it takes more than an hour) is well worth your while. I've also been using orthopedic insoles for years now, both off-the shelf and custom, and am convinced these make a great difference too.

That said, there are lower cost alternatives to a full custom approach (my boots were on sale, and the custom fit cost nothing extra.) Spenco makes excellent insoles and they are definitely better than stock ones. Companies like Sole (http://www.yoursole.com/) make a good alternative too, and one you can bake to shape in your oven, as well as comfortable if pricey flip flops. My first mountain boots, the weight training Galibier Super Guides, were not much fun without the neoprene insole I used to defray the cold conducted by crampons. Those boots (bought 30 years ago) are still in use by my long-time climbing partner, and while heavy, are a great example of old-time craftsmanship. If you have a chance to demo boots jump on it, because I cannot say for shame how much money I've spent on boots which did not really fit over the years. I even wore a lovely pair of Scarpas for years before admitting it was probably causing the annual loss of a big toenail, not to mention a bit of frost nip. If you can find a brand, or even insole/sock combination which works for you, go with it. My longest-standing boots are hiking boots from Technica, sold to me used for $90 by the generous Rich Gottlieb of Rock and Snow, still going great guns even when I'm not.

Ski Mountaineering in Chamonix

I was lucky enough recently to go to Chamonix for my first week of skiing there - including a couple of days of off-piste. I had only been there once before, climbing, and that was the first time I'd ever used a guide. I've figured out that certain places and activities benefit hugely from a local introducer, and without one in Cham, you may die. And, as my friend Jim Lawyer says, hiring a guide is a good way to get up something.

My guide the first visit two years ago was Gael Pernollet, who referred me to Sylvain Ravanel this trip. Both are superb men, guides, and members of the the La Compagnie Guides de Chamonix (http://www.chamonix-guides.com/). For all the guides winter is a key season, and as Gael was occupied he referred me to Sylvain.

Sylvain's contribution to this blog has to do with simplicity. He is a big proponent, and there were plenty of instances where it was hard to argue with the guide and his experience. For example, putting on skis just below the Aiguille de Midi is a fairly standard exercise: you walk down the ridge, complete with handrails and cut steps in winter up until around May. While crampons are likely a good thing, aluminum will suffice, and Sylvain loaned me some as I had none. The little landing where you clip into the skis is a bit exposed, and I was having trouble with my Dynafits, which I've only used for a couple of seasons. Fortunately I'd just put on runaway leashes (G3), because the bindings did not want to engage properly for me, and I don't have ski breaks. This is when Sylvain expressed his disdain for the 'tech binding' of which the Dynafit is the pre-eminent and original example. He, like most off- and on-piste skiers I saw, has a step in binding (Silvretta Pure Carbon in his case on a light rig, Rossis for a heavier weight setup he used another day.) The Fritchi was a very pervasive binding, and heavier ski setups than mine were on about 70% of those I saw.

While I'm still very happy with my light weight AT gear (see earlier posts) I can concede that a heavier setup would be good to have for all the on-again off-again skiing in Cham: the piste seems to be mostly the access and easiest way down, with much of the terrain which is 'off-piste' being right next to lift accessed runs. And there is no question if I were a good enough skier to hit steep or icy couloir I'd want a step-in rig with heavier skis. There is more food for thought to come on Sylvain's 'simple is right' approach.