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PAFlete: Chris Wright

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Interview by Kevin Machtelinckx

As you grew up, was climbing on your radar at all? If not, what was? What did you think you wanted to do with your life?

The short answer on this one is no—I had no idea what climbing was. I guess like the rest of the non-climbing public I may have been vaguely aware that it was a thing people did, but it wasn’t a thing anyone I knew did so when I discovered it I remember asking myself why nobody had told me, because I thought it was the most amazing thing I’d ever done. Growing up in Northeastern Pennsylvania I had an appreciation for outside in that I spent countless hours playing in some beautiful woods as a kid, skateboarded and snowboarded obsessively in high school, but I think by growing up where I did all I really knew was that I wanted to get out. I left Mountaintop, which is about as small as it sounds, when I went to college and, even though Manhattan wasn’t that far away physically, it felt like the opposite of a small town in the Poconos. I went to study film production and I thought I wanted to travel to make movies, but in the end I’ve sort of come to realize that what I really wanted was just to see the world, to share meaningful experiences with people, and to maybe work with those people to make some stories. So in a sense what I’m doing now isn’t all that far off.

Was there a moment or experience for you that made you think “Climbing/alpinism is what I want to do with my life”?

I can’t remember a single moment of inspiration so much as I can remember the feeling after just going out for the first time. I had a buddy in college who was a climber, and one day he just asked if I wanted to go rock climbing. I remember saying sure, not knowing anything about it and of course not knowing that the Gunks, where we were headed, was a world-class climbing area. I just remember asking what to wear. Al told me to wear normal clothes, but I somehow didn’t believe him and wore gym shorts. Anyway, I remember going out to Pete’s Kill and hiking like a half an hour to the top of the cliff and watching Al rig some ovals and webbing around a tree. We dropped the rope down, and not knowing how to rappel (or even that that was what we would have done if we’d had a clue), we walked all the way back around to the base. Then we’d top-rope these crazy steep routes and go swinging off the routes into the trees, laughing and I’m sure looking like complete idiots. Then of course we’d walk all the way back around, move the rope to a different tree and do it all again. And yet I don’t remember feeling self-conscious about it at all. I just remember thinking, “This is fun. I wish I’d known about this earlier, because damn, this is fun.” After that it was all over. As soon as I became aware that people went ice climbing I wanted to do it, and as soon as I saw what alpinists were I wanted to be one, and for me I think even when I was just learning for some reason I just assumed that the end goal was to go someplace to do big new routes. As my climbing progressed of course I found out that not everyone shared that vision, but I was lucky to learn from a lot of great folks and have awesome partners early on, to survive my own idiocy and here we are.

Photo: Lacey Gibbet

You are a self-described ‘avid first-ascensionist’. What advice do you have for those of us who aspire to similar dreams?

That’s a tough one, because on the one hand I want to tell people to just buy the ticket and go, and at the same time I can’t say that’s exactly what I did. As I said, I guess I always knew that I wanted to climb big things, but I think since I didn’t start until I was maybe 20 (I’m 34 now) I knew I had a lot to learn. I was just figuring it all out as I went along, and I was lucky to climb with folks who helped me hone the skills I needed, whether through big-walling in Yosemite, doing the same in winter, ice climbing, guiding – which of course hones your mountain sense by putting you out there so many days in a year, especially on days you don’t really want to go out, going on big (for us) alpine trips to the Rockies, and plugging into the incredible community of climbers and guides who called Bend home at that time. Through those connections it felt like I put in enough time to be proficient in most disciplines, and I just happened to meet a local hardman named Mark Deffenbaugh—who I think will end up being remembered as prolific in our little Oregon climbing community; you’ll see his name on new routes all over, from Ozone to Beacon to Smith and a million other little-known spots in Central Oregon—and become buddies with him at just the right time in my life. He and I are still friends, but honestly I say I didn’t just buy the ticket and go because it was Mark that not only opened my eyes to the possibilities, but took me under his wing and taught me the craft of new routing. He taught me everything from how to see a line to how to place a bolt, and he taught me an appreciation for the craft of opening routes. Going out with him I started doing new, mostly small rock routes at home in Oregon, but it helped me to see the way and I took that with me to the mountains. So I guess what I’m trying to say is that I want to encourage anyone with the skill and motivation to just get out there and do it, but I also know that part of the community, and the kind of mentorship you just can’t really experience without engaging with people who can help you see the big picture.

Sometimes you just need someone to help point you in the right direction, you know? Then it’s up to you, and you really do just have to go do it. You’re probably going to go screw it all up at some point in the process of learning some of the lessons that just have to come the hard way, but that’s kind of just how it is. Failure is a part of doing big things, but you still have to go out there and fail, and hopefully it’s going to make you stronger, make you and your partners closer, and get you that much closer to your dreams. On that note, I’d love to offer whatever help I can to anyone who wants it. I’m at least good at getting excited. Best piece of advice I can give actually is one that Mark gave me years ago, which is that you’ll never try harder than you will on your own routes. I didn’t get it at the time, and maybe it’s not the same for everybody, but it’s true for me. I’ll walk away from your god-awful scary hard route that took years to do as soon as I decide the holds are too small or that it’s too cold. I’m not going to kill myself for a hard repeat. But if it’s new, if it’s my god-awful scary sufferfest, then I’m all in.

Photo: Graham Zimmerman

On your site, you talk about food, beer, and coffee a lot. I think many of us can relate. When you’re in the mountains, how much do you think about those things?

I’m terrible and always thinking about food. Graham and I have found we’re polar opposites in that regard. He makes this absolutely foul, but nutritionally ace brown powdered mix I’ve dubbed “techno-sludge” and could basically live off it in the mountains. I’m lusting after cheeseburgers, and will literally read food articles in the NY Times while I’m in basecamp. I don’t know why I torture myself I guess, but needless to say we take obscene amounts of chocolate and cheese and sausages (Olympic Provisions if possible) and try to do the best we can. At some point even a six-week old unrefrigerated Babybel seems like a treat, but I’m always craving something. I’d take a cheeseburger right now if you had one.

We all have important figures in our lives that support us (or don’t) in these activities that we choose to engage in. Can you talk a little bit about who those figures are for you and why they are important with regards to the decisions that you make?

I’ve always felt really supported by my friends, my family and especially my partners. I know my parents worry and don’t really get it, but they still try their best to be supportive. I have the most amazing friends though, and even if they’re not climbers they’re people who aren’t afraid to go for it, and so they get it and they’re with me. With my climbing partners I just make sure to go out with people I love and with whom I see eye to eye. It’s a fine line encouraging someone to hang it all out there and give everything they’ve got, yet to do it mindfully and carefully, but somehow that’s what we do. That’s what you want in your climbing partners, someone who pushes you, but also pushes you to make good decisions and come home safely. To me that’s going to equal success in the long game.

Ok… I have to ask. What is your go-to beer in summer? Winter?

I’m a total beer dork, so I can’t peg it to just one, no matter what the season. What I can say is that I always take my Oregon beer snobbery with me, for good or ill, and we brew good beers in all seasons. Funny thing though is that when I’m here for a while sometimes I get burned out on all the hops and what sometimes feels like an arms race to make beer taste like pine trees, but after a few months away (especially in France), just gimme the pine trees and plug it into my veins. If I had to say though, I’d take a Boneyard RPM IPA or a Weihenstephaner Weissbier in summer, and in winter I’ll go for a Jubelale on Nitro at Deschutes, preferably on Monday so I can get a Local’s Night deal on a cheeseburger. With fries.


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PAFlete Spotlight: Graham Zimmerman

Portland Alpine Festival | Nov. 13–18, 2017

See the Portland Alpine Festival’s full lineup of 8 athletes here!




 by Darrin Gunkel

 How did you first discover climbing?
I grew up in the Seattle area and was first exposed to climbing through a club in high school and through one of my dad’s friends who took me up the south spur on Mt. Adams when I was about 15. That was my initial exposure to climbing. It was kind of a slow start; I think I got more and more into it as I went through high school. My parents signed me up for a course with the American Alpine Institute to learn the proper techniques to deal with mountain terrain. That gave me the idea of what’s possible for the mountains of the world and got me really fired up. I’ve been pursuing those goals ever since.

What is an important lesson you learned early in your climbing career?
The first expedition I ever went on was to the Kyrgyzstani Pamirs. I’d been reading a lot of Mark Twight at the time and gotten fired up on climbing without much gear, going really, really light. The big climb that we did there was on something like an 1,800 meter face, a big technical thing. I had a partner who wasn’t as experienced as I was, and we really didn’t bring much with us. For three days, I think we brought five cams, a rack of wires, a couple of ice screws, a single rope and just sleeping bags. We got away with it. It was sweet, no big deal, but I look back on that and think, o.k., you got away with that one, but in the future we need to bring more stuff. So if a storm comes in, you end up not being able to get through some of the terrain on the mountain, or whatever, you can either hunker down or get off the mountain quickly. If we had to get off that thing for whatever reason, it would have been quite the ordeal. Having a slightly heavier pack is o.k.
That’s a bold statement these days.

We still carry really, really small packs, but you still should probably have a tent if you’re putting up new routes in the greater ranges. [laughs]

Did you have a climbing mentor?
There have been so many people who have been climbing mentors over the years. Mark Kendrick down in New Zealand initially got me into some of the first big, steep alpine routes I did. Mark Allen is somebody who taught me a lot when I was younger and then later turned into one of my primary climbing partners. Steve Swenson these days has been guiding me through the art of dealing with big mountains in Pakistan. All these folks I couldn’t have done it without.

It’s one of the really cool things about climbing: we have a lot of opportunities for mentoring, and there’s a lot of patience in the community for dealing with people who are learning. There’s a recognition that you cannot do these things without a lot of knowledge, and so sharing knowledge is super important. I’m really grateful for that and those folks who have helped me over the years.

You’ve climbed all over the world, was there one region, or even mountain, in particular that originally drew or inspired you?
It’s funny. I very specifically remember seeing photos of the Baltoro region of Pakistan when I was in high school in some picture book. I remember seeing those images and thinking, “That looks really sweet. It would be totally unreal to go and climb in mountains like that.” I did my first expedition to Pakistan two years ago and so it’s coming full circle. Right now, my current inspiration is what I was inspired by when I was younger: the Karakoram. It’s a place that really gets me fired up now and has gotten me fired up for a long time.

 Was there a moment early on when it hit you that climbing was IT? 
I was originally born in New Zealand, lived there until I was four, and moved back when I was 18 to attend university. I had a bunch of time to climb before I started school, and it was at that point when I started to really zero in on climbing. Up to that point, my main mountain sport had been skiing—I did a lot of that and had a lot of fun with it—but by the time I moved to New Zealand, it was pretty clear that climbing is what I wanted to pursue. So, I didn’t actually bring skis to New Zealand and just brought a climbing kit. This guy Mark Kendrick, who I mentioned earlier as a mentor, and I were both living in Mt. Cook village, a little town beneath Mt. Cook in the central South Island. He asked me if I wanted to go climb the south face of Cook. It was something way out of my league. I told him as much and he just said, “I think you’ll be fine. I’ll lead all the hard pitches. It’ll be fine.” I really had a hard time on it. I didn’t fall or anything like that, but I remember being totally worked. We wrapped it up and it went pretty well and I remember it as being a sign, ‘O.k. This is something I’m capable of and this is something I really want to do.’ So I zeroed in on the pursuit of big mountains at that point. I still had to go to school, but it’s what I wanted to do in the long term.

Real world activities are always intruding!
[Laughs] Yeah. Unfortunately you still have to do all that stuff for better or for worse!

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PAFlete Spotlight: Dawn Glanc

Portland Alpine Festival | Nov. 13–18, 2017

See the Portland Alpine Festival’s full lineup of 8 athletes here!



by Kristie Perry
Long before she started winning ice climbing competitions at the Ouray Ice Festival, Dawn Glanc (pronounced “glance”) was a straight-A student in search of a better physical outlet than softball—one of the few sports available to high school girls in the flat lands of the Cleveland, OH, suburb where she grew up. One outlet she found was Whipp’s Ledges, an outcropping of sandstone cliffs in a nearby park. “That was my first exposure to climbing,” Glanc says. At the time, it was mostly just “goofing off and partying with friends. We would scramble all over the place.”
Upon graduating from high school in 1993, Glanc set her sights on becoming an aerobics instructor and enrolled at Kent State University. Everything changed after a boyfriend introduced her to top-roping at the cliffs of Whipp’s Ledges. “I found that using the ropes was a much better idea. I fell in love with climbing instantly.
“I thought, ‘If someone would pay me to do this, I would climb all the time.’ With this mantra, I made climbing my life. Every career choice, relationship choice, and personal action I’ve made since then has revolved around climbing.”
In 1996, at the age of 21, she left Ohio for the Black Hills of South Dakota where she could pursue climbing and a degree in Outdoor Education. There she honed her rock skills and learned to ice climb. 
“Living in the Black Hills I had some of the best mentors and role models a girl could ask for,” Glanc says. “My partners in the Hills were with me through some of my most formative years. They inspired me and gave me the confidence to push my comfort bubble. They also taught me a lot about humility.” 
In 2004, Glanc was on the move again, this time to Bellingham, WA, where she embarked on a career, not as an aerobics instructor, but as an AMGA-certified mountain guide. Over the next eight years she climbed and guided clients of all ages and abilities throughout the western United States and Canada. 
Glanc now resides in Ouray, CO, where she is co-owner of Chicks Climbing and Skiing, an organization dedicated to educating and empowering women through mountain sports. While she is well-known for efforts to promote the advancement of women and girls in climbing, she has the same advice for all beginning climbers—male or female, young or old: 
“Hire a guide to teach you how to climb and how to use the proper systems. Climbing is a life-threatening sport, don’t have some random person teach you. It’s your life, so be proactive in your own safety.”
Over the years, Glanc has climbed in France, Norway, Greece, Montenegro, Croatia, Sardinia, and Iceland. She enjoys demonstrating her mettle through competition and for many years was a frequent winner at the Ouray Ice Festival competitions, placing first in the women’s division in 2009 and 2011, second place in 2007 and 2012, and third place in 2010. She also won first place in mixed climbing at the Teva Winter Games in 2012 in Vail, CO.
Glanc says stubbornness and tenacity are what get her through most climbs. “The resistance to falling and the unwillingness to do the moves again are the secrets to my success.”
Despite her clear climbing prowess, Glanc is honest about her struggles. “I have to consciously quiet my brain if I want to send something,” she says. “I can’t tell you how many times songs in my head, conversations from below, or other distractions keep me from focusing up.”
Glanc is best known for her ice and mixed climbing skills and calls rock climbing her “demon.” 
“I don’t mention my rock climbing much because I am just an average climber if you take my ice tools and crampons away.” 
Glanc is such a big fan of her hometown of Ouray that in 2015 she decided to run for City Council. “I feel that citizens need to be involved if they want their community to thrive. I really enjoy the opportunity to serve and plan to run for a second term.”
Dawn is sponsored by Outdoor Research, La Sportiva, Black Diamond, Mountain Hardwear, Blue Water Ropes, and Julbo Sunglasses.
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PAFlete Spotlight: Marcus Garcia

Portland Alpine Festival | Nov. 13–18, 2017

See the Portland Alpine Festival’s full lineup of 8 athletes here!

 

by Karoline Gottschild

You began climbing in your early teens, and started adding incredible and death-defying exploits soon thereafter. Do we have to go back to diapers and toddlerhood to find you holding on to someone’s hand for safety, nervous or otherwise feeling incapacitated in some ‘non-badass’ ways?
I was very athletic right from childhood into adulthood. I recall one time, when we were about 11, my brother and I saw a zip line on a TV show. We promptly found some rope and made our own line. This didn’t go so well…but it was the start to new adventures. In high school, I played soccer, a runner, track and field, football, and power-lifting.
Could you tell us a bit about your early, formative years? Did you spend your entire youth in Texas? Did your parents or other family members positively influence your athletic direction in any way? 
Growing up in Texas, I had to learn to be diverse. My brother and I grew up with divorced parents that moved around a lot. We were extremely poor, and we had to make do with what we had. I would see my mom work hard to give us what she could, and she always told me ‘you can do anything if you just put the work into it’. This stuck with me. Both my parents were once athletes, but growing up, I lived mostly with other family members, in a small town. 
My family influenced me; but the neighborhood kids affected me the most. We grew up like in the movie The Sandlot. We always were doing something, but our biggest activities were seasonal sports. We played football, soccer, explored in the creeks, and basketball—every day after school and all summer long. 
Once I started high school sports, my coaches became my mentors. They gave me direction and support. During these years, my parents could not afford to house me, so I ended living with my uncle. 
He gave me the security that I had a real home to come home to. He also encouraged me in all of my athletic endeavors. Some mornings, he would get up at 5 a.m. and take me to school for the power-lifting workout that I did before my track workout. I also did my first climbing road trip with my uncle. But to be honest, it was the support I got from the kids I grew up with that truly helped define me as an athlete. Friends can have a monumental effect on a young person’s life. I am trying to give that back with the Youth Climbing Team program I have. 

I know you mentioned before that one of your most memorable climbs was in 1997 climbing on El Capitan. Your late friend and mentor fell 70 feet below you, zippering all equipment on the way down. Yet once the dust and rock bits settled—and even—thanks to El Nino—the ice—you both forged ahead and made summit. If that isn’t badass, I don’t know what is, yet to others it might seem foolhardy. What elements in your upbringing and gave you the quality of mind and spirit to prepare you for such focus, determination and character?
I wrote this quote, “one must learn to live with fear and not in fear,” and I took that to heart. Years later, after that defining trip on El Capitan, I wrote it down. I still live by it … and suffering … this is what makes us sometimes.
Perhaps, at this point, we need to define the term badass. After all, one person’s badass could be another person’s “day at the office.” How would you define it?
To me ‘badass’ is a term given to someone who is in control of his or her own adventure. Anyone can be a badass as long as they accept to live with fear and not in fear. Learn to live as if you are going to die tomorrow, and dream as if you are going to live forever. This is my motto in life.
Clearly, given that I have been asked to interview you, the Mazamas considers you a badass. Do you view yourself the same way? 
I do not consider myself a badass. I just enjoy doing what I do. I do what I do for myself, as it gives me life and meaning. I am a visionary—like the character in the movie Walter Mitty. This helps me see what is possible; then it is up to me to make it happen. 
Who are the main people in your life you look up to, or who have played a significant role in making you the man and climber you are today?
As I mentioned, my mom, my uncle, the neighborhood kids, and the coaches played an important role in my young life. Later, this would be Brian Clark and my late friend Jimmy Ray Forrester. Being tied together into the same ropes for years, you build a lasting bond and a trust that you know that person has your life in their hands. This allows you to climb at your best. Jimmy was a purist that would never give up. Our epic big wall trip on The Shield was a moment in my climbing life that defined me. That is what climbing is about for me, the adventure of the unknown. 
What is it about climbing that gives you that “rush” or that feeling of connection to life that your other sports such as soccer did not?
The adventure I go on that tests me both physically and mentally. I love the fact that it is up to me to get the rope up to the anchor, and sometimes to get us back safe.
What different direction do you think your life would have taken if you had not discovered climbing at 13? You also had a soccer scholarship at one point, but then the school dropped its program. Was this event pivotal in starting your climbing career?
I would have tried to be a professional athlete. I was big runner and a multi-sport athlete. Recently I found a quote in my high school yearbook: “My dream is to be an Olympic athlete and to have a gym of my own.” Funny, here I am—I’m a climbing gym owner, and I coach the USA Youth Ice Climbing team as an Olympic Development Team.
What do you think were some of the major life changing events that you are grateful for, but that also were the toughest? 
One life changing event occurred during that epic climb Jimmy and I had on The Shield. After we had cleared the ice from our ropes, sipped the water off the lichen covered wall, and popped a few of our last M&M peanuts, we looked at each other and made a promise that if anything were to happen to one of us, that we would each bring the other home. Well, after we topped out, I fractured my foot, which dropped me face first in a pool of water that nearly drowned me. I was too weak to push myself up. Jimmy rushed over and pulled me out of the water. He then kept a watchful eye on me during our entire decent. 
When I heard of his death that occurred during an annual trip to El Portero Chico, Mexico, (a trip that he and I did together for years establishing routes ground-up, until I became a father), I happened to be in Fort Worth visiting family. Jimmy was from Fort Worth too. That’s when I got the call. I had to do the hardest thing in my life. I drove to his mom’s house, who had not seen me in a long time. I was like her other child. When she opened the door, she knew instantly. Still to this day, I find myself in tears telling this story. (And this November will be the 11th year anniversary.)
After I told his mom, I immediately got on a flight with just the clothes on my back and a camera. I had to fly down to ID him and claim the body, and escort his body back home. I kept my promise we made years ago. I also had to climb the route that he died on, to retrieve parts of him and his belongings. I buried what the Mexican rescue team left behind under the Virgin Mary that stands over the approach to the route. 
You have indicated in other interviews that climbing allows you to focus and to find your spiritual balance to take on life’s other daily challenges. What do you consider are your most trying ‘daily challenges’? 
“Adulting.” I am going through a divorce. I have daughter who lives in Atlanta, Georgia now. Trying to be a long-distance parent over the phone is hard. I am also in the process of rebuilding my gym after we were forced to move out of the building we were in for years. Dealing with politics and not having real answers for the members of the gym who are waiting patiently. 
I have seen your videos climbing desert towers, ice climbing and setting unprecedented new routes. Has having a family changed your priorities and risk-assessment?
We just had a good friend suffer a serious climbing accident. My daughter and my soon to be ex-wife were upset. Because my daughter is now old enough to understand what could happen, I talked to her about it. I want her to understand that these things happen, but that I am always thinking about her. I also have a check system that keeps me safe. 
Some climbers eat, sleep and … well eat and sleep climbing! They live out of their cars, or from their sponsor’s, family’s or significant others’ largesse. I’m sure a lot of people think of them as the real badasses. What is your opinion?
To me what defines you as the real badass, is what you do with your life. It’s not what you have, or what you sleep in, but it’s the adventure you dream and live.
Is perhaps the ultimate badass someone like you—a person who has defied death on many occasions, someone who has managed by skill and luck (probably by a serendipitous combination of both) to reach incredible new summits, to develop popular new routes, create a family, and a successful climbing-related business? Well, unless you object—I think that will be my definition of a bad ass: Marcus Garcia. 
Thank you for your words. I wish my marriage would have been successful, but life has a way of teaching and showing us that we have and will always be learning and growing. This is what makes us successful. To be able to persevere in life.

Is there something else you would like me to ask you or that you’d just like to share to give a more complete picture of who you are or strive to be?
To me being a mentor is the most rewarding part of my life. I love teaching and sharing my skills and dreams with others. It is up to the more skilled climbers like myself, and the gym owners, to help educate others, and to share what climbing is about—the life adventures that climbing takes us on. Climbing to me is a lifelong sport. In a way, it is a way of life for me. It helps me to understand life and deal with the challenges it presents.
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PAFlete Spotlight: Katie Bono

Portland Alpine Festival | Nov. 13–18, 2017

See the Portland Alpine Festival’s full lineup of 8 athletes here!

by Jonathan Barrett

Katie Bono grew up as a cross country ski racer, and self-identifies as a climber/athlete as a result. It is an attitude and point of view that helped create her most publicly visible climbing achievements: women’s speed records on both Rainier and Denali. However, it is her unbridled enthusiasm for climbing that has carried her forward and opened many doors for her.

At Dartmouth, where she went to college, there was an overlap between the Nordic skiers and the climbers. It was through those connections that she found her own passion for climbing. In the summer of 2008, between her sophomore and junior year, she went with friends to climb her first multi-pitch, Dolomite Wall on Cannon. The route sees few ascents, perhaps because one guide to the area describes it as, “one of the more challenging and exposed free climbs on Cannon. Runouts, micro wires, and loose rock are the norm.” When she left the base, she thought to herself that she didn’t need a headlamp. Ultimately she and her friends had a minor epic when time ran out and she discovered that “sharing” a headlamp ostensibly means walking down in the dark. While some might have been scared off, Katie was hooked by the experience. She continued to learn and grow as climber, and she fed off these climbs that tested her body and her willingness to suffer. Several years later in the Canadian Rockies on her first true alpine climb, she learned that a 20% chance of precipitation has a different meaning than the American Southwest. Significant snowfall resulted in an overnight, exposed bivy on the summit of Castle Mountain after 20 pitches of climbing. Again, her love for the climbing was cemented by an experience that others might find harrowing.

As a climber/athlete she approaches the discipline of climbing with discipline. “I really like trying hard, to find where my limits are,” she says, noting that the mental challenges of climbing are as important to her as the physical ones. Along the way, as she progressed, there were many people who influenced her and supported her, not the least of which being Will Gadd and Sarah Hueniken when she lived in Canmore. Ultimately she credits much of her success to her enthusiasm. It was something that Gadd recognized and which was born on the cliffs of New Hampshire. She feels very fortunate that a wide range of talented climbers saw in her a sincere passion for the sport and were willing to foster that passion even when her talents as a climber were still just emerging.

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Prevention & Recovery for Climbers

Interview with Brad Farra, D.C., CCSP, CSCS. Certified Chiropractic Sports Physician. Owner of Evolution Healthcare & Fitness. By Michael Vincerra.

How did you became attracted to sports medicine?
I was in the Navy for 6 1/2 years. I was a helicopter rescue swimmer and EMT, and it definitely spurred my interest in healthcare. I felt like that was definitely a calling for me. I enjoyed every aspect of search and rescue. After I got out of the Navy, I thought “that was the intention the whole time. Let’s get in [the Navy], get an idea of what I might want to do, and earn some college money.” Then I started doing my undergraduate degree as pre-med in allopathic medicine, but I quickly realized it wasn’t what I wanted to do. I was irritated when all I ever had was sports injuries, and they had no tools for me. Then somebody gave me some really good advice: “Figure out who you want to work with, what you want to treat, and decide which profession is going to help you get the right toolbox.” I quickly realized the Sports Chiropractor has the best toolbox to work on sports injuries and give people tools to take care of themselves.
Your profile indicates that you specialize in “recovery and prevention strategies.” Mountaineers and climbers encounter all types of injuries. Could you explain a little about your strategies in prevention and what makes them unique?
Strictly speaking on a preventive basis, if someone comes to me with absolutely no injury, there are a lot of things that we can do to determine risk and vulnerability for injury. We do movement screens, we assess tissue quality, we do orthopedic testing, and a lot of that is looking at movement patterns and figuring where we need to go to minimize risk for injury. For a climber, I’d rather look at the way they squat, the way they move their shoulders, and how they transition from back to neck to shoulders—fundamental movement patterns.
Why look at the squat?
We use the way someone squats to determine their risk and vulnerability to injury. For example, a toddler knows exactly how to squat and it’s a perfect squat every time. But as adults in the 21st century, we sit. All the time. Sitting jacks up the post of your chain and the motor pattern, it shortens the hip flexors, and it turns off the glutes and gets our core weak. Eventually that leads to mobility problems in the upper back and the hips, not allowing us to move properly through a squat. The squat tells me about how they’re moving throughout the day. Then that tells me how they’re going to move up on the mountain for 3,000 feet, and where the breakdown is going to be. It’s amazing how much we can gather by watching somebody move and develop a set of corrective exercises.
Can you explain one of these methods in detail and the benefits it has to your patients?
“Class 4 therapeutic laser, graston technique, soft tissue manipulation, rehab, and nutrition.” A lot of people think, “I don’t need chiropractics.” You’re probably thinking of a chiropractic adjustment or manipulation. Chiropractic is a profession, not a procedure. I’m looking at the research, taking all the best tools, and helping my patients with the problems they come to me with. So take Graston technique, which is basically an instrument- assisted soft-tissue mobilization technique. It does a phenomenal job of breaking up scar tissue, resetting the nervous system, and bringing fresh blood to the area. I see it being effective for my patients day in and day out. With the research they’ve done, using pre- and post-diagnostic ultrasound, they’ve demonstrated scar-tissue adhesions breaking up and lining-up of tissue fibers, which allows tissues to glide and move. 
How does your chiropractic background inform what you do as a Sports Medicine Physician? 
Well, that’s interesting. I have a B.S. in Human Biology. I went to a four-year professional school that mirrors medical school. You spend a couple years in basic sciences, you get into clinical sciences, and continue as your start an internship. I’m reading the same sports science research that everybody else is reading. And because of my scope of practice, I’m able to apply all those tools like another practitioner would, like a physical therapist or a physiatrist would. At this point in time, 80% of my practice is extremity sports injuries: ankle, knee, hip, wrist, elbow, and shoulders. 
What is the most popular injury among climbers?
Medial and lateral epicondylopathy. Their nicknames are “golf elbow” and “tennis elbow.” It tends to be a chronic condition, not an acute condition. I also see a lot of pulley and tendon injuries. On fingers, you have the pulley that holds the tendon down. Sometimes, it’s not just the tendon that gets injured from cramping but also the pulley that holds the tendon down. Sometimes both. I’m able to accelerate the healing process and guide somebody back to sport. That’s really the biggest question: ‘When can I climb again?” If we go back too soon, it’s going to prolong the healing process. Shoulder injuries is the next biggest one. Because the shoulder is such an important part in the way we move. If someone is not moving properly at the shoulder, the elbow takes more of the load, and they end up with epicondilytis. And a lot of the rehab for elbow injuries is shoulder stability and strengthening. So it depends on the specific presentation. 
Especially for a lot of the Mazama climbers, it’s about their cardiovascular “motor” and that the core is strong, the hips are strong, and we’re able to deliver the climber to the mountain and not get injured. I like to say that the core allowsyou to transfer power to your extremities. Whether you’re a throwing athlete or a climber that needs to carry a 50 lb. pack up the hill, you need to have a strong core so you don’t lose energy.
Has your own experience as a mountaineer taught you how to prevent sport injuries?
As a strength coach and a climber, I feel it’s a really helpful tool to speak the language of the climber. So that when they tell me, “I was pulling this Gaston and felt a pinch in my elbow …” I’m able to talk to a climber about what they’re doing and to help them and guide them back sport.

I definitely feel like my experience as a climber gives me a better perspective on what a climber is dealing with and their goals. I enjoy working with motivated people who just want to get back out there and do their thing.
Learn More and Get Tickets at portlandalpinefest.org.
Come and learn from Brad: Training for Alpine Climbing on Nov. 17 at Evolution Healthcare & Fitness.
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Pushing the Boundaries of Possibility

Interview with Christof Teuscher, associate professor in the Department of Electrical and Computer Engineering at Portland State University, investigating next generation computing models and technologies. In his off time he stays busy with photography and ultra running. By Kevin Machtenlinckx.

They say that when you were a boy growing up in the Swiss Alps, you learned to ski before you learned to walk. Any truth behind that?
Yes. There is some Kodak Super 8 footage out there of me on a pair of wooden skis in the Swiss Alps. I keep falling over and over in the film, but I always seemed to get back up. My mom says that I was relentless.



You only got into trail running in the last three years. Why now?
I sustained a knee injury way back in high school while running down a mountain with some friends. It never really healed properly and that kept me away from running. I thought it was just not meant for me. Then, a few years ago, a friend asked me if I would run a 50k with her. I don’t know why, but I said yes. I had always stayed in shape through mountaineering, backpacking and mountain biking, so the few months that I had to train leading up to the race wasn’t as bad as it would be for some. Still, and I didn’t know it at the time, it isn’t advisable to ramp up to race shape so fast and I sustained injuries during training. I still ended up going through with the race and finished it successfully. My goal became to do a 100-miler within one year.
Have you competed?
Yes, I’m fairly competitive and signing up for races gives me something to work toward, otherwise it gets to be a bit hard to stay motivated to run long distances week in, week out. Right now I’m focused on long distance mainly due to my age. You see a lot of younger folks who are physically much stronger than I, but they don’t necessarily have experience or the mental toughness to deal with tough situations of long distance races, which is why I can still compete.
You’ve recently completed a five peak traverse by climbing South Sister, Middle Sister, North Sister, Mt. Jefferson, and Mt. Hood, trail running between all of them. You’ve also completed the 750-mile Oregon Desert Trail (ODT) this summer, attempting a speed record. Where do these massive goals come from? 
I’m not entirely sure, but these goals do give me the chance to learn about myself and where limits are. I find it fascinating to explore the human physical and mental limits. I enjoy the logistics and planning that some of these projects require, too. The ODT, for example, was a two year project. I also like to do things that people think are impossible, not necessarily to prove people wrong, but rather to prove to myself that these things are possible. 
Do you find that the way you approach physical undertakings affects how you tackle problems in other aspects of your life?
Absolutely. There are lots of connections. In my research, for example, I like to explore the limits of what technology and computers are able to do. We fail often in academia because we go into projects unsure of what the limits are. We might spend years on a project only to find out there is simply a fundamental theoretical limit. Those who can resist those setbacks will be the most successful, which is the same mindset found in long distance running. 
There is undeniably an element of mental toughness required to spend days on end running through the desert. How do you train for that?
I would say mental toughness is more important than physical condition and is often overlooked. There is a scientifically-based technique called Mindfulness-Acceptance-Commitment (MAC) that I use to get me through the tough times during runs. After enough practice, this becomes second nature and the brain automatically switches to this method of thinking when the physical pain starts. The body actually has a much higher physical limit than we think and, often, the mind is more of the limiting factor.
Your talk will be focused on embracing failures so as to improve. Can you give us a taste of one of your failures that you will share with us?
At one moment during the ODT, at night, I was searching for a food cache and couldn’t find it. The GPS coordinates were not entirely accurate and I couldn’t remember where it was. I dug up a large part of the 300’ x 300’ square that I was searching but found nothing. I was exhausted, in a lot of pain, and wanted nothing more than to quit. After a long search I gave up and started walking to the trail, getting out my SPOT device to send a message to my wife telling her to pick me up. All of a sudden, I stumbled upon half of the marker that was left on a bush. I had found a valid reason to quit, but now that reason was taken away. I didn’t know how to feel. There was no one out there to talk this over with but myself. My wife pointed out that I’m not a person that needs a reason to continue. In that moment, I just didn’t have a good enough reason not to continue. So I kept going.
Easy question … how do you relax?

I’m restless by nature. Usually an hour in the hot tub is enough. Otherwise I don’t necessarily try to take a week off or anything. Running in itself acts as stress relief. I tried to take a week off from running once and it was a disaster. I’m someone who thrives from always having an activity.
Learn more & get tickets at portlandalpinefest.org.
Come and here Christof share his experiences at Fail Often to Succeed Sooner at Evolution Healthcare & Fitness on Nov. 18. 
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Exploring the World of Fast-Packing

Interview with Willie McBride (portlandalpinefest.org), a Portland, Oregon based ultra runner, climber, and ski mountaineer, as well as co-owner/founder, coach, and guide at Wy’east Wolfpack. He loves writing about and sharing his outdoor experiences and enthusiasm with others.
By Darrin Gunkel.
Of all your mountain activities, which achievements are you particularly proud? 
Traveling to Peru 8 years ago was definitely a highlight. I’d never been among mountains that big in my life. It was a pretty grand experience to feel extra small. We get to feel small a lot when we get out to local outdoors places, but being in that scale is a different thing for sure. I try to climb Mt. Hood a lot as well, and I’ve been trying to push myself to do it faster and faster. So this year I got it down to 3:22 round trip from Timberline Lodge. So I was pretty proud about that. 
How many marathons and ultras have you done? 
I don’t have an exact number but dozens, including a couple of hundred-milers, a hundred-and-twenty-miler and the Tahoe 200. But now, I’m really aiming towards self-planned adventures and moving a little bit more away from the racing. 
Why move away from racing? 
Well, I come from a background of self-planning adventures and being more of a climber and backpacker. So, one, a lot of it just comes naturally and two, I take joy in the process of mapping out routes and doing logistical planning, and races already have that taken care of for you. The ultra running community is very supportive, and inclusive, but still in any race there’s a clock hanging over your head. It can cause a lot of anxiety. Certain people can do the distance, but they can’t do it in the allotted time, and they have to stress out about that instead of enjoying the experience. I believe they can achieve these things, but just not in somebody else’s time frame. 
How do you motivate? 
Just setting your intention. If you really love something and you’re really into it, then hopefully you stay on course. One easy exercise—well, simple, not easy—that we do with clients is we have people stick their arms straight out at their side, at 90 degrees from their body. The goal is to keep your arms straight out, without wavering, for say, seven or eight minutes. And it is terrible! At about three minutes in—or less—your arms are screaming and it’s just terribly uncomfortable, and yet people can make it! So if your mind is screaming at two minutes, but you can make it to eight minutes, what’s the difference? It comes down to mental strength. Your mind is like any muscle in that if you work it, it gets stronger. Since starting that in classes a couple of years ago, we’ve had countless people say to us, “You know, this weekend I did this really tough hike, I got to the gnarliest part and it was beating me down, and I thought of that arm thing and it just got easier.” Micro exercises like this that tweek out comfort with discomfort can really reach into all aspects of life.
Advice for somebody thinking about taking up fast-packing? 

The only way to fast pack is to get really light gear that costs more. That can be prohibitive. Don’t fall into the trap that it’s a deal breaker. You don’t have to have the lightest of all gear. You can go a little less light but a little more expensive and a not break your bank. And like anything, start small. You don’t go from zero miles to an ultra marathon overnight, and you don’t go from day trips to week long fast packing trips overnight either. Start with a single night out. That’s all you gotta do. You don’t have to go super deep. Just get out there and try it out. 
Learn more & get tickets at portlandalpinefest.org
Come and see Willie, along with his partners Brian Donnelly and Nick Triolo at Base Camp Brewing Company on Nov. 16 for “True Motivation: Fast-Packing the Cordillera Huayhuash.”
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BCEP Leads to the Arrigetch Peaks

Interview with Katie Mills, mechanical engineer, peak bagger, and 2016 Portland Alpine Fest athlete. Katie fondly remembers the old days when there used to be an off season. Now the off season consists of the week between rock climbing in Red Rocks for Thanksgiving and hitting up the Bozeman Ice Fest the next weekend. By Kevin Machtelinckx.

Photo: Jed Brown.
What made you join Mazamas and start the Basic Education Climbing Program (BCEP) in 2006? Did you continue with the Intermediate Climbing School (ICS) as well? 
I moved up here from Louisiana after Hurricane Katrina destroyed my apartment. Like everyone else who moves here, I wanted to climb the iconic Mt. Hood staring in my face every day, but I also wanted to do it safely so I asked around and people told me about BCEP. I’m the kind of person who learns things by taking a class and can’t teach myself anything. So BCEP was perfect. After BCEP I climbed for a year, got some more experience, then went back and took ICS. 
Was there a defining moment in your early climbing career that stands out to you as one that ‘sealed the deal’ on climbing? 
I knew as soon as I climbed my first mountain, Mt. Hood. I was so giddy with happiness after doing the climb that I couldn’t sleep the following night. I had never planned on becoming a technical climber though. In ICS, I shied away from rock climbing and proclaimed it too dangerous. Scrambling and snow slogs were for me! But five years after BCEP, I had climbed all of the major mountains by their non-technical routes, and there was nothing else to do, so learning the technical climbing skills was the logical next step. 
You and your team received the Bob Wilson Grant in 2015 for a 2016 expedition to the Arrigetch Peaks in Alaska. Can you talk about the experience of putting together and organizing an expedition of such scale? How did it differ from your other trips in terms of logistics? 
Photo: Mandy Barbee
I had attempted Aconcagua with two friends on a previous expedition, but I wasn’t the leader so I had all the logistics handed to me and was unable to appreciate what being a leader entails. All of the gear was carried on mule to basecamp so weight was less of an issue. For the Arrigetch trip everything depended on me. From coordinating flights and figuring out which lake I wanted the bush plane to land us on, to deciding which valleys and mountains to hedge our best bets on, to helping my team decide which gear to take. Organizing food you have to carry on your back for 24 days is also a very big task (I took 80 granola bars, and that was just lunch!), not to mention the fact you have to fit it all into bear containers. I also researched every AAJ journal entry ever concerning the Arrigetch back to 1965.
What advice do you have for people who would like to make the jump from mountaineering locally to expedition-style climbing? 
Getting mentally used to the remoteness of alpine climbing and having to be self-sufficient is key. Practice climbing alpine rock because it is very different from cragging, especially when you’re out for weeks at a time. I think routes on Mt. Stuart are an excellent training ground because it is so big you really have to practice your navigation, routefinding, and multipitch ropework skills. But sadly if you want to climb over 5.8 you have to go cragging too! Get your trad skills dialed in by crack climbing at places like Trout Creek or Indian Creek, which is what I did all year before the trip, and is the only reason I was able to succeed on the FA we did. For remote places, I recommend two-way texters over satellite phones. Way cheaper and lighter too.
Photo: Kai Waldron
You’ve climbed on some women’s only teams. Can you talk about the significance of this? What does it mean to you and why is it important?
Often when women go out climbing with men, the man feels societal pressure that he has to ‘lead’. Even if the woman is more skilled, he may be braver. I’m not one to arm wrestle over a lead and will gladly hand it over. But when I’m climbing with only women, it’s nice to not have those pressures and stereotypes. You just woman-up or proudly watch your friend woman-up and get it done. Don’t get me wrong, I know quite a few women who will slap that lead out of a man’s hands cuz they want it and I admire the hell out of them, but not all of us are that assertive.
There are, undoubtedly, a lot of engineers and other science-based professionals that make up the climbing community, including yourself. The engineering mindset can have many advantages out in the mountains. Can you think of any disadvantages? 
I think the only reason I am a good alpinist is because I am excellent at problem solving, which is also why I’m an engineer. Sometimes I do miss the colorful artsy people that are less common in the climbing/engineering world. Perhaps a disadvantage of being an engineer is being data driven,
Photo: Cigdem Milobinski

focused on the summit/pushing the grade/accomplishing an achievement and missing out on the more subtle rewards, like appreciating the beauty of the approach hike or the silly banter with your teammates when you epically fail. For me, who I climb with is more important than what I climb. I’d rather climb something easy with someone I know I am going to form a lasting friendship with than have a random ropegun stranger I have nothing in common with get me up something awesome. But to each their own! You gotta do what makes you personally happy because that is the point.

Most outstanding memory of your climbing career so far?
One of my favorites is climbing the Red Dihedral on the Incredible Hulk with Rebecca Madore in 2014. We were planning on climbing a much more chill route on the Grand Teton, but it was snowing so we chose the Incredible Hulk instead. It was my first climb where we didn’t know if we could pull it off. So we had to push ourselves to do it. The feeling of accomplishment after that was amazing. “Send of the Century,” I called it!
Future goals or expeditions? 

Ruth Gorge girl-power mixed/ice climbing with Rebecca in the spring! I’d also like to go back to the Arrigetch because I saw some pretty stunning unclimbed peaks that I was unable to attempt because I did not have the proper equipment. It seems not a lot of people venture back there a second time, but I definitely want to go back as an experienced veteran instead of a floundering first-timer!

Hear more about Katie’s expedition, along with her partners Todd Torres and Nick Pappas at “Into the Arrigetch” on Nov. 15 at the Mazama Mountaineering Center.

Get More Info & Tickets at portlandalpinefest.org.

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Climbing Life: An Interview with Scott Bennett

Photo Credit: Garrett Grove

Interview with Scott Bennett, 2016 Portland Alpine Fest athlete. With first ascents, from Alaska to the Waddington range, the Cascades to Patagonia, Scott has established himself as one of the most active alpinists of his generation. By Joe Fox.


You said you were climbing yesterday? What was going on? Where were you guys?

Yesterday, I was kind of unintentionally climbing. We went for a ridge run-scramble. My friend, Jon Frederick, and I went up to Red Peak which is in Summit County, kinda near Vale in the mountains of Colorado. And scrambled up the peak, which is I think low 13-er, and tried to traverse this long ridge of towers and buttresses and such, and it was one of the chossiest things either of us has ever been on. Actually Jon grew up in Washington, so he’s climbed a bunch in the Cascades, and he was like this

Photo Credit: Cheyne Lempe

is Cascades-quality choss up here. So, we got pretty scared running around in running shoes for a while. And eventually found a way to bale off it down some gully. We meant to go swing tools for the first time of the season, but it was too hot. It was like 80 degrees in Denver.

Can you pinpoint a moment perhaps in time or in your own thinking about the sport of mountaineering, where you took a conscious step away from being a hobbyist and toward being a true professional, expert, master?

That’s a really good question. The question of mentality, of intention with it. The moment for me where I started to think of myself as accomplished, or more capable, as someone who had a unique skill set. It was probably my first trip to Patagonia, which was in January of 2011. I went into that trip and I had never done any first ascents. I had never set foot onto a glacier. I grew up in the Midwest and I learned to climb mostly in Colorado and Utah, in warm dry places. I hadn’t really ice climbed at all. But a climbing partner, Blake Harrington, who is another Northwest guy, we rock climbed a bunch in Denver, in Colorado that year, and he suggested we go. And obviously I was pretty intimidated by that idea. But he convinced me it was a good idea and so we went down there. And, I don’t know, just right away felt at home there, in those wild big granite mountains, sticking up through the glaciers. The photos had seemed really intimidating, but when we actually got there it just felt like rock climbing, which is what I’d been doing anyway. So that was the moment for me, where I was like, “I’m really comfortable in this environment.” And I know not everyone is or can be, so I think I have something unique going for me here that I should really focus on. So that trip was the first of a whole series of more alpine-

Photo Credit: Colin Simon

focused expeditions for me. Going to back to Patagonia the next year, and going to Alaska the next year, going to the Waddington Range in British Columbia. And at that point my climbing really moved away from just going on a road trip to Indian Creek … which is super fun—I’m going there next week actually—it’s something I still love doing. But it’s more of a social, recreation thing, and when I think of making progress in my own climbing, it’s expeditions, its big trips, it’s first ascents, and something with an exploratory element as well. So, yeah, that first trip to Patagonia opened up my eyes, I guess, to the fact that this was possible and that I had a lot of the skills necessary and I had the right kind of desire and boldness to go do those things. That’s really when my focus shifted.

On where he learned to climb…

I grew up in Michigan. And I did learn to climb when I was in college in Ohio. I was involved with the outdoor club at my little liberal arts school in rural Ohio. And there wasn’t much to do, so I was in the outdoor club, to go on backpacking trips, and we would do weekly trips, also, to a makeshift

Photo Credit: Blake Herrington

climbing tower that this farmer had built in his field, fifteen minutes away from campus. So we would go there every week and climb indoors, in what looked like a silo, it wasn’t actually a grain silo, but that’s sort of what it looked like. And he had a mix of actual gym handholds, and some were just rocks and pieces of wood that were bolted onto the walls. It wasn’t a public gym. The farmer would let us climb there; the guy who owned it, he was also a climber, and he gave us keys for it and let us climb there. And, we’d go in the winter and it wasn’t heated. It had a propane heater, but it wouldn’t be on. So we’d have to go and start the generator, and start the propane heater, and get the lights turned on and get it heating up, before we could start climbing. So it actually, in hindsight, was good preparation for alpine climbing. Because you would frequently get “the screaming barfies” on your first climb of the day. Because it would just be Ohio in January. It would be freezing.

Wow. The Ohio farmer who converts a grain silo into a climbing gym. Sounds like an interesting character. 

Yeah, totally. Tom is his name. I’ve been meaning to climb with him again. I know he comes out to Vegas pretty often to climb at Red Rocks. So I’ll have to get in touch with him and climb with him now, because it’s been, what, 9 years, 10 years since I graduated from college? So I haven’t seen him in a while.

So for kind of all four years of college we climbed there, and then my senior year, me and the few other people that were really into climbing, we found a professor that had at one point climbed at The Gunks, and had been a climber in his youth, and still had a trad rack, and we convinced him to take
us out climbing at the New River Gorge. And that was the first time I went outside. And he taught us how to place hexes, and whatever. This was like easy cracks at the New River Gorge. But it really progressed super quickly for me from there. Because this was my last year of college and I was climbing outside for the first time, but then within a couple years, I was climbing, almost full time. I mean I wasn’t doing anything else. Working, waiting tables so I could make enough money to pay rent and buy food, and just climbing a 100% of the remainder of the time. I had moved out to Colorado at that point. So the progress came really quickly. In terms of getting out to Yosemite and climbing on El Cap, probably, within a year of first climbing outdoors.

My next question is a little bit darker. But I did all the interviews last year for the Alpine Fest as well. And among the folks I interviewed barely a year ago was the late, great Scott Adamson. Scott was a truly brilliant climber and a great friend to the Mazamas who was lost this past season in the mountains of Pakistan. And as I was sitting down to make some new questions for this year and trying to figure out which of the old questions would still work, I felt particularly focused on risk, and in particular the risk of death in alpine climbing. And just the fragility of human life, you know? I still have the audio recording of Scott talking about how he took a 100 foot whipper in the dark and thought he was going to die, you know what I mean? And then he did. And it’s just kind of, hard to stomach. And I was just wondering how you regard your own mortality. Do you think about death, since you’ve taken it to this next level?

Photo Caption: Matt Van Biene

You know, it might be a self-protective thing, but I don’t really think about my death in the mountains. I mean, intellectually I know that there are certainly a lot of risks with what we do. But, yeah, the possibility of my own death isn’t something I am emotionally connected to. It doesn’t seem vivid. I don’t have nightmares or anything. But what I do think a lot about is friends dying in the mountains, because that’s happened to me. And it sucks. I guess my own safety feels like it’s in my control. I mean, obviously, it’s not fully in my control. If I’m climbing in the Karakoram underneath a serac, you know? That’s an objective hazard. But that’s something I can deal with and mitigate. But friends dying … Kyle and Scott were friends. I didn’t climb with either of those guys, but I certainly knew them and respected them. And they were heroes of mine, and friends as well. That’s something that I do worry about. And again, I guess maybe from a self-protective standpoint, I think I’ve intentionally kept my circle of really close climbing partners fairly small. Like I really only do big trips with a handful of people, really two or three actually. And folks that, obviously, whose judgment I trust 100%. So I can feel pretty good about them going out on trips without me, that they’re going to come back safely. Because that’s the fear that gets to me the most, I think, is having friends leave and not come back. I’ve been lucky enough, that none of my truly close climbing partners or friends has died in the mountains.

But with Kyle and Scott… I was climbing in the Karakoram last summer, which is going to be subject of the slideshow that I give in Portland, is that trip. And we were climbing at the same time as Kyle and Scott, in a different place, in a different valley, but we were well aware that they were over there and we were thinking about them pretty often. And we did actually find out about Scott’s big fall and injury while we were in the mountains, at our base camp. We had a sat phone and we were in contact with friends back in the States and so we found out about it through them. And it really did kind of color our experience for the remainder of our trip. I think it made us more conservative with what we were willing to do, and just a little wearier. It was a strange season last year, I guess this was 2015, because it was quite warm. It was unseasonably warm all summer. The snow was not super well set up. A lot of the ice was coming apart. And I suspect that’s what led to their accident last year, the 2015 accident. So those things were in our minds when we were climbing on K6 which was our big objective on that trip.

On big wall speed climbing and it’s applications for alpine climbing….

I’ll set myself sort of arbitrary goals, whether it’s here in Colorado or in Yosemite. Trying to do multiple walls in a short time period or trying to do a specific route really fast. Stuff that can kind of seem silly and arbitrary, but which really forces you to develop a new creative skill set. That you can then apply in the mountains and apply onto bigger routes, where moving fast is necessary to be safe and to actually finish the climb.

Photo Credit: Garrett Grove

There’s a local climb here at the wall that’s the five pitch route, up the middle of the wall. Its a 5.11, so it’s kind of the classic, moderately hard route that people aspire to do. And I’ve done it a bunch of times, so over the years I’ve tried to whittle it down to faster and faster and faster. And I’ll time it from the base up to the summit, and back down again. And over the course of a couple years, I took my own personal time from over an hour, like an hour and half, down to now less than half an hour. So I took this climb that most parties would approach as a full day climb, and that in the past I’d approach as, at least, two or three hours if you’re moving at a normal pace, and just ruthlessly making it more efficient and dialing in your systems, so you can climb it really fast.

Mountaineering legend, Reinhold Messner, has often been quoted comparing mountaineering to a creative pursuit, and the climber to the artist. Does this idea resonate for you at all in your experience?

I mean definitely, this is something that’s been said many times, but doing a first ascent, you know, looking up at a wall, and painting in that line in your mind, “we’re gonna link this feature with this feature.” I mean it’s partially a logical pursuit. “Ok this crack looks good. This crack over here looks good. We’re going to avoid that section because it’s got rock.” So there is a very analytical side to that. But I do think that there’s also an aesthetic sense, “this is where the line should go. This is going to be the most rewarding way that we can get up this mountain.” My friends and I often talk about trying the line of strength of the mountain, the proudest line we can find. That obviously has an implicit aesthetic judgment. Part of the reward of climbing is getting down and then drawing that line onto a photo, and being like, “yeah, that’s beautiful. That’s something that I created and its beautiful. It’s art.”

Get Tickets & More Info at portlandalpinefest.org

Scott Bennett’s Portland Alpine Fest Schedule

  • Alpine Fast & Light (Clinic) Nov. 16, 8–11 a.m. at PRG (FULL)
  • Intermediate/Advanced Ice/Mixed Climbing (Clinic) Nov. 16, 1–4 p.m. at the MMC
  • Into the Karakoram (Clinic) Nov. 16, 7 p.m. at the MMC
  • Intro to Ice/Mixed Climbing (Clinic) Nov. 17, 6–9 p.m. at the MMC (FULL)
  • Big Wall Techniques, Nov. 18, 8–11 a.m. at PRG