Michael Gardner died in a fall on Jannu East (7,468m), in Nepal’s Kangchenjunga region, on October 7. The 32-year-old was attempting a new route with longtime friend and climbing partner Sam Hennessey up the imposing North Face, one of the great unclimbed faces of the world. This was the duo’s fourth trip to Jannu East and third attempt at the North Face, having turned around in 2022 when their shelter was shredded by ice fall and in 2023 without good overall conditions for a proper bid.

The details of Gardner’s fatal fall are not yet clear, but Climbing confirmed that Hennessey has successfully descended. Partway through his descent, he intersected with a French team who was also retreating from an attempt on the North Face, and the group rappelled the final 700 meters together. A search via drone and on foot was not successful, but did locate some of Gardner’s personal equipment below the face.

Hennessey and Gardner had racked up an otherworldly list of standard-shattering ascents over their seven-year partnership. They were truly redefining fast and light alpinism, climbing Alaskan testpieces in fractional time (often in ski boots with skis on their backs to descend); but perhaps most importantly they were doing so quietly, with overflowing, contagious joy.

Mike is survived by his mother, Colleen, and sister, Megan. His father, George Gardner, was a storied Exum mountain guide who died from a fall while soloing the Grand Teton in 2008 when Mike was 16. Mike was beloved by all in his orbit, including fellow guides, clients, and athletes who were fortunate to call him “friend.”

 

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The word “legend” gets thrown around too much in our alpine-climbing circles. But if Mike Gardner didn’t earn it, then no one has. His style was all his own: a bushy mustache capping a wiry frame, usually clad in blue jeans and a pearl-snap shirt (often sleeveless), driving a beater truck and riding his skateboard everywhere from Ridgway, CO, to Nepal. Stories of Mike are the canon of barely believable (but nonetheless true) mythology: After just a one-hour introductory seminar, Mike nearly broke the U.S. breath-hold record, clocking roughly eight and half minutes; and made the Arc’teryx athlete team’s radar when, as a safety guide for one of their ski photo shoots, he offered to help, donning the athlete’s jacket and hucking a backflip for the camera to everyone’s astonishment.

Mike was a reluctant climbing “professional,” who, prior to signing with Arc’teryx, didn’t have an Instagram page nor a knack for self-marketing. “He wanted a guarantee that he could maintain his authenticity while pursuing climbing as a career,” Athlete Team Manager Justin Sweeny said. “I reassured him he could. And we started to build what was the most unique athlete relationship I have ever been a part of. 
 Mike’s legacy lives on through all the people he touched and his soul rests easy in the land of the giants.”

 

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I met Mike shortly thereafter at the Ouray Ice Fest in 2020. He hung around cragging and chatting with a genuine ease and openness, deflecting inquiries about himself and achievements toward his recent passion of skijoring (a competitive winter sport where skiers are towed by horses, dogs, or motor vehicles around a track), but the profoundness of his nascent achievements quickly shone through his quiet humility. “Climbed the Infinite Spur in ski boots and skied off the summit? Repeated Light Traveler in 31 hours?? Who is this guy?!” I asked myself and then the internet the next morning. The first Google result: a 2010 Powder Magazine article naming him as one of the “Best [20] Skiers in the World Under 18.”

He and Sam Hennessey continued ticking big alpine routes at a voracious pace, particularly in the Alaska Range. Teaming up with Adam Fabrikant, they sprinted from Kahiltna Basecamp up the Cassin Ridge and in a single 64-hour push, walking across the tundra and catching the bus back to Talkeetna. New routes on Denali’s Isis Face, (also in ski boots, carrying skis), and the  with Rob Smith, nothing seemed to stop them. In 2022, also with Rob, they climbed Denali’s route in 17 hours 10 minutes. It was Mike and Sam’s second route up Denali’s gigantic South Face, having made the second ascent of Light Traveler in 2018. This spring, the duo made the of the same face with Eric Haferman.

 

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It is a rote temptation to reduce a climber to a list of their ascents, and if there is one thing for sure it’s that doing so here leaves out a number of days Mike considered remarkable purely for the company he kept, whether adventuring locally in the Tetons or in the Himalaya. Nevertheless, it is an undeniable truth that Mike was among the greatest alpinists of our time, pushing the limits beyond what most of us could even conceive as possible.

On a day of sport climbing on Anvil Island during this summer’s Arc’teryx Climbing Academy, in between carefree whippers and ocean dips, Mike told us of his planned tattoo once he and Sam completed “the Jeast” (Jannu East): a fierce mapache.

Mapache Style (Raccoon Style)

adjective | ma·pa​·che style

1. the style of alpine climbing in which you embody the spirit of existing on the fringe

Push into the dark forgotten corners.
Sustain on what you have.
Scrappy to the bitter end.
Life on the fringe. Eat trash, live fast. Mapache for life.

 

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Apparently 2024 is the year of apparel, as most new ice climbing releases this year fell into that category. Most brands source the same or similar fabrics for alpine sports, so the true differentiator comes down to how the designers tie them all together with a fit suitable for sport—not just photo shoots. While we appreciate (and hope for) disruptors, it’s no surprise that the big name brands with the most experienced athletes are the ones best linking pattern table to vertical escarpment. Below are our favorite picks of the year.

The Winners at a Glance

• Arc’teryx Alpha Hybrid Pant
• Arc’teryx Alpha Lightweight Parka
• Grivel G20+ EVO Crampon
• Patagonia Nano-Air Light Vest
• Rab Ascendor Summit Hoody FZ
• Mountain Hardwear Phantom Belay Down Parka

The Reviews: The Best Ice Climbing Gear of 2024

Arc’teryx Alpha Hybrid Pant ($350)

Weight: 475 g (men’s) / 400 g (women’s 4R)
Size: XSR-2XLR (men’s) / 0R-16R (women’s)
Materials: N80D Most Rugged 3L Gore-Tex Pro, Burly Double Weave Softshell
Fit: Trim
Pros: Ultimate quiver-of-one winter pant, Highly breathable composite construction, Removable knee pads
Cons: Not fully waterproof

The Alpha Hybrid Pant has been revived since the original version, the Alpha Comp, was dropped from Arc’teryx’s lineup years ago. The original pant combined hardshell Gore-Tex front and lower panels with softshell in the rear for an unmatched synthesis of weather-proofing, breathability, and movement. Unfortunately, the Alpha Comp was ultimately dropped. The athlete team nearly revolted upon the news, and has been pushing ever since for a revival.

Enter the Alpha Hybrid: an updated version with improved features like removable knee pads and a cinchable waist belt (the previous hook and loop adjustment waist had a knack for undoing itself and unintentionally hooking onto other things). While seemingly hokey, the thin, lightweight foam knee pads are never in the way but often appreciated when pulling bulges, resting knees against the wall in semi hanging belays, and the occasional knee whack that none of us are too experienced to avoid. The Hybrid retains the Alpha Comp’s key crossover element: cuffs with a zipper that widen to accommodate ski boots or slim down to stay svelte on a mountain boot and avoid crampon catches. This simple adaptation is surprisingly rare, and a top reason the Alpha Hybrid is a true quiver-killer. The Gore-Tex and softshell combo also does a remarkable job of venting moisture and kept our tester’s trunks dry even on a long, early summer aerobic approach in Rocky Mountain National Park. Note: the softshell rear is not waterproof, so these pants are best for cold-weather pursuits where liquid precipitation is unlikely.

Bottom line: The Alpha Hybrid is made for the cold-weather athlete who only wants to pack one pair of pants

Arcteryx Alpha Lightweight Parka ($800)

Weight: 17.3 oz (men’s) / 15.9 oz (women’s)
Size: XS-2XL (men’s) / 2XS-2XL (women’s)
Materials: 850 RDS fill down, Gore-Tex Infinium shell with Hadron face fabric
Fit: Regular
Pros: You get the warmth-to-weight benefits of down with the protection of Gore-Tex
Cons: ·Ąłæ±è±đČÔČőŸ±±č±đ—lŸ±°ì±đ, really expensive

We originally tested the Alpha Parka (not the lightweight version), and found it to be more jacket than most users would need for anything in the Lower 48, especially considering the $1,000 price tag. The Alpha Lightweight Parka chops 10 ounces and $200, retaining the premium 850 fill power and Gore-Tex Infinium shell, to give us the best belay parka we have ever used. It’s packable, lightweight, and weather proof—so much so that it completely alleviated our hesitance to bring a down jacket on a mission (since down is ineffective when wet). Though a bulky belay parka, its thoughtful cut was remarkably unobtrusive when we wore it while seconding frigid WI4 pitches in Cody, Wyoming. Smart design details like dump pockets and a perfectly articulated hood that accommodates a helmet without limiting mobility are the finishing touches that seal the deal. For any adventure short of Himalayan high peaks, the Alpha Lightweight is a standout that fully justifies its high price tag. For everyday cragging, you don’t need something this spendy, but as you build into multipitch mountain endeavors where every ounce counts, the Alpha Lightweight Parka is the unparalleled choice of the category.

Bottom line: The best belay parka (ever) for winter climbers who can spare some expense.

Grivel G20+ EVO Crampon ($250)

Weight: 844 g/pair
Size: one size fits all
Pros: Lightweight; Replaceable front point
Cons: Doesn’t collapse as compactly as other crampons in its class; Not modular (i.e. is a dedicated monopoint)

Much like the 2006 World Cup season, the sharp-and-pointies category of ice climbing has been a back and forth showdown between French and Italian brands for decades. Thanks to its innovative design, the G20 by Italian company Grivel has upset our tester’s previous French loyalties. The standout feature is the single frontpoint, extending like a velociraptor claw and forming the very frame of the crampon itself. Typically, crampon frontpoints are attached to the frame, but testers found that this unique approach worked to make the G20 lighter than rivals and very responsive—like an ergonomic extension of our feet. The razor sharp appendage sliced through waterfall ice on Vail, Colorado’s classic The Fang (WI5) without shattering delicate placements. The small, horizontal secondary point was the coup de grace, as it provided security and balance for ice placements, but is recessed enough not to hinder rock placements (other designs integrating this combination struggled to strike such a balance). The only two critiques: adjustments require actual Allen key disassembly, and the single rail frame design folds in half instead of collapsing down, which makes for a slightly bulkier and awkward package to carry when not in use.

Bottom line: Crampons for ice, mixed, and alpine climbers looking for top-of-the-line performance on steep terrain.

Patagonia Nano-Air Light Vest ($199)

Weight: 7.5 oz (men’s) / 6 oz (women’s)
Size: XS-2XL (men’s) / XS-2XL (women’s)
Fit: Trim
Pros: Incomparable warmth-to-weight ratio
Cons: None really

Comedian Demetri Martin said: “Vests are all about protection. A lifevest protects you from drowning, a bulletproof vest protects you from getting shot, and a sweater vest protects you from pretty girls.” Perhaps this classic 90s fashion precept is why it took our tester so long to get on board with the Nano-Air Light, but after taking it out once, he’ll be riding the vest train until the end of the line. At seven ounces, this vest weighs next to nothing and adds a remarkable amount of breathable warmth to our daily kit. Our tester found the vest really shined when leading the seasonally dry, scrappy Hessie Chimney (M5) in the Indian Peaks Wilderness of Colorado, where it kept him warm in the cold temps but offered freedom of movement for the athletic stemming, arm barring, and dry tooling involved. Other puffy vests can feel bulky and too warm, but the trimmed down Nano-Air Light is barely noticeable in its volume and added just the right amount of insulation to keep us warm without overheating.

Bottom line: Keep your core warm without cluttering your arms.

Rab Ascendor Summit Hoody FZ ($200)

Weight: 11.6 oz (men’s) / 9.8 oz (women’s)
Size: S-XXL (men’s) / XS-XL (women’s)
Fit: Slim
Pros: Simple, well executed midlayer
Cons: Shockingly, none

We often hear the design phrase, “simplest is the most difficult,” but in this case, Rab nailed it. It isn’t fancy, but it has all the technical characteristics you need, with nothing else (similarly to an iconic fan-favorite, the Patagonia R1 Fleece Pullover. Key features that make this hoody standout are the athletic cut, no superfluous bells or whistles, a smooth outer face, and a well-fitting hood. There is no bulky material around the arms or midsection, and simple but thoughtful features like hidden thumb loops and smooth outer lining across the shoulders shed moisture. If your layering system calls for a mid-weight fleece layer, this is your pick.

Bottom line: A no frills, well designed mid-layer

Mountain Hardwear Phantom Belay Down Parka ($550)

Weight: 27 oz
Size: S-2XL
Materials: 800 fill down, Pertex Quantum Diamond Fuse 20D Ripstop shell’
Fit: Regular/Generous
Pros: Weather protected down warmth
Cons: On the bulkier and heavier side

If the Arc’teryx Alpha Lite is the Porsche of belay parkas (beautiful, trim lines and high end without an extra ounce), then the Phantom is the Cadillac: roomy, comfortable, plenty of performance capabilities for the majority of us, and more affordable. The ripstop Pertex shell that protects the moisture-sensitive down fill was completely bomber in its performance, so we had peace of mind when scraping it against rocks and boulders. The bulky cut and fill are more suited for belays than active movement, but for hunkering down and staying toasty, this parka is tough to beat. Plus, the generous baffling and fill are akin to being wrapped in a cloud during basecamp lounging.

Bottom line: A solidly priced, quality down jacket that’s sure to last

How to Buy

Ice climbing is the most gear intensive, and therefore expensive, iteration of climbing. With that comes an allure to buy everything – but any ice climbing kit is holistic and needs to all work well together. A single standout piece of apparel is worthless if it doesn’t combine well with the rest of your action suit. Colin Haley has a about layering for alpine climbing, in which he aptly observes, “At any given moment in time, I must be able to wear every item of clothing that I brought with me on a climb (the exceptions to this rule are gloves and socks).” Make sure everything can be functionally worn together, and try items on as you will use them. For example, if you’ll be wearing baselayers then try on prospective pants with a baselayer underneath to make sure they allow the mobility you’ll want and need in the mountains.

If you’re starting out, we recommend being conservative on how much you spend before you know exactly what you’re looking for—much like a $200 pair of rock shoes is unnecessary for a beginner. And unless you are certain you want to focus on a hyper specific niche of the sport, look for the most generalist items within a category, what we like to call “quiver killers.” For example, we loved the G20 Plus Crampons for steep vertical ice and mixed, but if you’re starting out with more moderate grades, they’d be a poor choice and unnecessarily costly. Secondhand gear will give you a feel for the sport and your preferences before you throw down thousands on a fancy new kit. Check out online forums like MountainProject.com and eBay, or even your local Facebook Marketplace.

For those ready to dive in on new gear, boots are a number one spending priority. Take care of your feet—you can’t get anywhere without them. Most modern tools and crampons will last for years, which means used pairs perform like new with a fresh set of picks or frontpoints. But boots wear out and a nice, new pair suited to your fit will deliver the most bang-for-your-buck. Head to a local shop that knows the sport to get a well-fitting pair, and repay their expertise with a purchase. From there you can begin to accumulate hard goods like ice tools, crampons, and ice screws. Most ropes, draws, and harnesses can cover the gamut from rock to ice if purchased with versatility in mind.

How We Test

• Number of testers: 6
• Number of products tested: 75
• Number of miles/vertical feet: tens of 1000s

Socrates said the wisest man knows he knows nothing, so our lead tester leaned on a list of climbers he looks up to, ranging from Cody, WY, ice climbing guide Dane Steadman to alpine legend Bruce Miller (a man who saved Steve House’s life, not once, but twice). This year’s collection of products got wrung through the paces from Colorado to Alaska—including the coveted Jeff Lowe & Will Gadd testpiece Deep Throat (M7 WI6) in Glenwood Canyon, CO.

Meet Our Lead Tester

Maury Birdwell

Maury is an attorney and climber based in Boulder, CO. He has had the good fortune to climb and establish routes around the world, his favorite part of which is the communion it provides with his partners and the heroes who came before him. Some highlights include freeing the original Royal Robbins line on Mount Hooker in the Wind River Range with Jesse Huey (Original Sin, 5.12+), the first free ascent of Armageddon (5.12+) on the North Howser Tower in the Bugaboos, Canada, and setting the for climbing (solo) the Diamond of Longs Peak. His work focuses on outdoor business development, and in 2012 he co-founded the Honnold Foundation with Alex Honnold – perhaps his greatest personal ‘send’ to date.

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The explosion of climbing has yielded a progression and specialization in gear beyond our wildest dreams, even when it comes to the humble climbing harness. Looking for an ultralight skimo rig under 100 grams? Easy. Fixed leg loops? You got it. Fully adjustable waist and legs? Espresso and steamer? Done. Done. And Done. (Well except the espresso function, but surely that’s coming.) Whether you’re looking for a hyper-specific climbing harness for your most outrageous adventure yet, or a jack-of-all-trades that will serve you on rock and ice, you’re sure to find what suits you in today’s market. Here are our favorite climbing harnesses of the year.

The Winners at a Glance

Black Diamond Long Haul

Wild Country Mosquito

Black Diamond Technician

Black Diamond Solution/Solution Guide

How We Test

Number of Testers: 8

Number of Products Tested: 12

Number of Miles/Vertical Feet Climbed: Immeasurable

We rated each harness individually for comfort, utility, and durability for an assessment of a harness’ overall performance, then weighed that metric against price for a final determination of value. For example, a moderately performing harness with a high price would not get our recommendation here; whereas the same harness with a moderate price likely would because that represents a solid value product.

Meet Our Lead Tester

Harnesses can be a tough “fit,” so we assembled a broad roster to evaluate this year’s bundle of padded nylon. Ranging from thickly built lead tester Maury Birdwell, a lawyer and “weekend warrior plus;” to the lean and svelte Max Barlerin, a former NPS climbing ranger with first ascents from the Rockies to Patagonia; to crack phenom and dirtbag extraordinaire Brittany Goris. They put in the vertical meters and whippers to separate the sweet from the chaff.

The Reviews: The Best Climbing Harnesses of 2023

Black Diamond Long Haul ($140)

Weight: 1.4 lbs
Size: S-XL
Pros: Comfortable; 5 super roomy gear loops; Adjustable leg loops
Cons: Heavier and bulkier (granted that’s purposeful)

The trend has consistently been to make climbing gear lighter and faster, and while in many cases we appreciate that, it certainly can come with compromises. The Long Haul represents a different approach: instead of stripping it down in the name of weight savings, Black Diamond prioritized comfort and a full feature set for a specific use-case that sees lots of time hanging in your harness. Technically, this new harness is part of Black Diamond’s revamped Big Wall climbing line, but our tester found himself reaching for it even on regular cragging days. In reality, the Long Haul’s ~300 extra grams over standard rock climbing harnesses is just over half a pound, and let’s be honest: how many of us are sending at the cutting edge where half a pound makes that big of a difference? Especially when you factor in the extra comfort the Long Haul offers while at a hanging, semi-hanging, or even hangdogging belay (which equals saved energy and calm)? We found the benefits of the extra padding (and weight) outweigh the cons 90% of the time. What began as a specialized product is now, in our minds, a harness for every climber to consider, whether tackling The Nose or just enjoying some comfort at the local single pitch crag. BD Athlete Dave Allfrey wore a prototype Long Haul on his new route in the Kichatna Spires of Alaska last year and had this to say, “From wall routes in the Alaska range to developing sport routes in the desert, this is what I’m in if i want comfort and movement.”

Bottom Line: While aimed at big wall climbing, the Long Haul is for any climber looking for a comfortable, versatile option when they aren’t counting grams.

Wild Country Mosquito ($110)

Weight: 7.8 oz (men’s) / 8.5 oz (women’s)
Size: XS-L (men’s) / XS, S, M (women’s)
Pros: Lightweight, trim and streamlined; Relatively comfortable; Moderate price
Cons: Finicky buckle

Swinging to the other end of the spectrum from Black Diamond’s Long Haul is Wild Country’s Mosquito, an excellent choice for those desiring a super light harness that retains a surprising amount of comfort. While aimed more towards sport climbers, the molded plastic front and minimal, bare nylon rear gear loops can still hold a decent bit of kit, giving the Mosquito decent crossover versatility for longer routes without many hanging belays. The one drawback is that the waist buckle requires manual feeding in and out with both hands, versus the typical one handle cinching and loosening seen on most other “speed buckle” designs. Though slightly annoying, the buckle wasn’t enough to keep our testers from enjoying the harness overall once they had it on, with a sleek, low profile fit that moves well with your body and is barely noticeable from clip to clip as you send your project.

Bottom Line: The Mosquito is ideal for weight conscious single pitch rock climbers.

Black Diamond Technician ($90)

Weight: 13.3 oz
Size: S-XL (men’s), XS-L (women’s)
Pros: Comfortable; 4 roomy gear loops plus haul loop; 4 ice clipper slots; Adjustable leg loops
Cons: Jack of all can mean master of none

The Solution line of harnesses has been a go-to rock climbing favorite for years: Climbers of all stripes love how comfortable, lightweight, and affordable they are. The Technician utilizes the same svelte, comfortable waist and leg loop construction of the Solution line while adding more bonuses: adjustable leg loops, wider gear loops, and trimmer webbing and belay loop make for an impressive all-arounder. Our male and female testers agreed their respective models were the standout of this year’s lineup. High praise for the women’s version: female testers agreed their version proved to be more than just an afterthought with a different color scheme; it’s well adjusted for more feminine sizing and dimensions, beating out other women’s specific models in our testing. But perhaps most impressive when it comes to both versions: how affordable this fully-featured harness is. If you’re looking for a single-quiver harness that will get the job done across all disciplines, it’s hard to compete with the Technician.

Bottom Line: The Technician is a solid, fully adjustable all-arounder for ice and rock.

Black Diamond Solution/Solution Guide ($80 & $100)

Weight: 11.6 oz / 13.9 oz (Guide)
Size: XS-XL
Pros: Good general fit; Comfortable; Affordable
Cons: Not the lightest or slimmest option on the market

While not new for this year, we’ve chosen to include the Solution and Solution Guide as a bit of a “standard” for bang-for-your-buck performance. At $80, the Solution has for years been a solid choice for all-around rock climbing, and is as comfortable and lightweight as other harnesses twice the price. Introduced a few years ago, the Solution Guide added larger gear loops (plus an additional fifth loop), wider waist and legs for even more comfort, and Black Diamond’s Super Fabric, which makes the harness even more durable than previous iterations—all for a $20 price bump and only 64 added grams. Each comes in women’s versions as well, and even a Honnold Signature Edition, which donates a percentage of sales to the Honnold Foundation’s work on solar energy access.

Bottom Line: A broad range of sizes and styles to cover any gender of rock climber at a friendly price.

How to Buy

Try. It. On! We really can’t stress this enough, because every harness differs in fit and proportion—even within the same manufacturer. Often European companies and/or sport climbing oriented models have thinner leg loops, but you never really know till your butt is in the seat. Most good climbing shops will have a setup allowing you to hang in the harness for a few minutes, the only real way to know how it will feel when you actually hang in the harness on the rock.

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“We’re on the summit of Indecision Peak (First Creek). Both totally destroyed. 

I’d say that Ray shouldn’t head up Black Velvet Peak yet, you guys should wait and see if we make it there/are able to continue. 


Honestly, the thing that could save us would be savory food an[d] water up Hidden Peak. But how anyone will get there is beyond me


We’re setting out again now.”

The text from Alex froze my hurried preparations to rally into Black Velvet Canyon with the support and film crew, where I planned to join Alex on the final leg of his journey across the Red Rock skyline, a massive effort that he called The HURT (Honnold Ultimate Red Rock Traverse). It was 7 A.M. on Tuesday, October 11. Alex had been on the go for over 24 hours, and suddenly it appeared as if the wheels might be coming off.

A year and a half earlier, while driving to Yosemite in April of 2021, I made a pit stop in Las Vegas and did this exact segment with Alex: a convoluted bushwhack to connect Black Velvet’s (5.9; 1,600 feet) and subsequent summit to Windy Peak’s (5.8; 800 feet) and summit. I thought I was being treated to a long-neglected outing up the Red Rock classic but shortly came to learn Alex had a deeper agenda. Inspired by his recent completion (with Tommy Caldwell) of the in Rocky Mountain National Park—a mega link of 18 peaks near Tommy’s house in Estes Park—Alex had begun envisioning a similar, though perhaps more logical, traverse of Red Rock Canyon’s skyline, a feature in his own “backyard.” His goal from the beginning was to tag all of Red Rock’s major sandstone summits via classic routes, free soloing up and down them, in a single supported push. While they may seem deceptively simple when viewed during a leisurely tour around the loop road, Red Rock’s intricate sandstone canyons can quickly devolve into a maze of impassable cliff lines, cacti, and crumbling slopes. Since much of that terrain does not contain trails or see traffic, it involved significant route-finding and prep work. During one such solo excursion, Alex broke a hold while descending a steep gully and tumbled a few dozen feet; he returned home relatively unscathed, but the incident underscored the unforgiving nature of the terrain.

The day after our outing, just as I was pulling out of the driveway, Alex returned from another scouting mission in a dour mood. 

“How was it?” Sanni inquired in her trademark cheery disposition. 

“I’m over it,” Alex said, “it’s too hard and too long and too hot.” 

Nonetheless, the seed had been planted. Fast forward a year and a half, add a baby, subtract some sleep, and Alex—fresh off a six-week expedition to Greenland—returned his focus to more “family friendly” backyard endeavors, i.e. objectives that could be squeezed in between feeding times, naps, and work calls. He once again began scouting the various sections, piecing together classic rock routes up and down each peak, pioneering laborious, thorn-covered ways to connect them, and scheming for support strategies.

A crucial resource was local ultrarunning legend , holder of numerous Red Rock area FKTs. Chris shared GPS tracks for tricky segments, joined Alex to scout a five-plus hour odyssey up and over the behemoth Bridge Mountain, and, crucially, volunteered to support Alex’s game-day effort. The night before the big day, Chris rolled up to our porchfront pregame huddle on his bike (“only seven miles” each way) sporting thigh-high spandex shorts, a cut off pearl snap, bike cap, and thick beard. (For those who know, he’s basically Vegas’s version of Boulder’s .)Ìę

Alex began his journey at 6:15 A.M. on Monday, October 10, climbing (5.7; 800 feet) and linking it to the top of White Rock Peak. After much discussion, and some reticence (particularly from Sanni) about compromising the purity of a very personal project, he had agreed to a low-impact film team consisting chiefly of myself and Chris, who’d use iPhones, and Alex’s longtime friend , who just happened to be in the area. At the last minute another of our good friends, Pete Mortimer, owner of , hopped on a plane from Boulder, delighted by the chance to witness another absurd Honnold endeavor. It had been so long since Pete, now mostly an editor and deal maker, had actually held a camera that Brett had to get him up to speed. 

Two hours into the traverse, Chris joined Alex for the same Bridge Mountain segment they’d scouted together, roughly ten miles and 5,000 vertical feet of rugged mountain terrain depositing them at the base of Mescalito’s (5.8; 1,000 feet), where Chris was to pass me the support baton. I planned to spend my day cloverleafing in and out of canyons while Alex climbed up and over their corresponding buttresses—providing him with food and water and, if necessary, motivation. At 11:30 A.M. I was at that first stop, where our estimated itinerary had them arriving around 1:00 P.M., when suddenly I heard Alex’s trademark Marco-Polo whistle. 

“That doesn’t make sense,” I thought, “he’s way too early.” 

“Oh hello!” Alex exclaimed, a nearly breathless Chris in tow.

“He is raging,” Chris said. “I was just trying to keep up with him.” 

And that’s how it went, at least for a while. Over the next few hours Alex continued to expand the gap on our estimates, and I had to be mindful not to watch him climb for too long as I chanced him beating me to the next drop point. When he donned his rock shoes for the first time—for his tenth route of the day, Crimson Chrysalis (“5.8++++” per Alex’s notes; 1,000 feet)—he was a full three hours ahead of “schedule.” He ascended the iconic route framed by a beautiful desert sunset reminiscent of a .

Four hours later Sanni and I watched a lone headlamp descend Rainbow Mountain and down climb (5.6; 1,500 feet), then greet us in the lowlands en route to Mt. Wilson. Sanni had laid out a charcuterie selection of energy food, egg-cheese-bagel sandwiches, and Oreos (critical beta); I refilled his hydration bladder. “I’m definitely starting to feel kinda tired,” he said, the words redundant with his deeply fatigued visage. Mt. Wilson and the technical crux loomed above: , a sandbagged 2,000-foot 5.10c. We all hiked together to Wilson’s lower flanks. 

“Ok be safe
” Sanni offered as the grade steepened and we slowed to head back toward the car. 

Turning around disappointedly, “You guys are leaving?”

His eyes betrayed a forecasted loneliness.

Nine hours later and there we were in Black Velvet Canyon. Chris had hiked up Mt. Wilson to meet Alex on the summit, expecting to descend to the base of the blue-collar crux, (5.10; 1,300 feet), then drive and hike around to rejoin him on the upper ridge for another couple of hours. However, in a wise move showing that discretion truly is the better part of valor, Alex chose to forego Celtic Cracks in favor of a fourth class scramble. Chris, ever the team player, kept pace, enlisting himself in a ten hour outing rather than the planned four hours. (In total Chris logged 25 miles and 18,000 feet of vertical gain over 18 hours while supporting Alex.) The midst of that is when Alex sent his sobering text, and we all realized we were well past the “fun meter.”

Honnold on the “summit” of Black Velvet Peak during the HURT. (Photo: Maury Birdwell)

Alex’s effort on the HURT is inspiring, but allow me to suggest that it’s inspiring for inobvious reasons. Sure, he went huge and yet again racked up a lifetime tickl ist in a single push, redefining our concept of what’s possible; but all those are just numbers and statistics. Read or watch films about climbing’s earliest obsessives, before the nonstop desperation of Instagram influencer-athletes and the constant reach for some qualified superlative at every accomplishment. What you’ll see is a bastion of counter-culture dreamers, what Lionel Terray aptly termed “Conquistadors of the Useless.” There were no likes, no followers, no 8a.nu scorecards, and certainly no big paychecks (British Royal expeditions excepting). Instead, climbers arbitrarily gazed upward and cast off into the unknown fueled by intrinsic inspiration and tribal one-upmanship, climbing simply “because it’s there” and because something within them required it.  Nonetheless, those dirtbags gave us dedicated to saving the planet and the . Perhaps their quixotic ramblings had some merit.

The HURT is entirely made up. In the hour-long debate in Black Velvet Canyon as to whether Alex ought to continue, Mortimer questioned, “Alex, why keep going? This is already a massive accomplishment and super proud. And you get to decide what this is. So by stopping now you aren’t coming up short of anything.” 

With a pained look Alex simply replied, “Because there’s a value to picking a goal, and doing what you said you would do, not just quitting when it’s hard.” 

I’ve climbed with Alex on big wall epics in Africa; I supported him on the CDUL; we’ve backed off El Cap. The only time I’ve ever seen him this ground down was during a likely malaria infection in Angola. 

“Going big” and reaching for the unattainable is something we can all do on our own terms. None of it matters in the truest sense of the word, climbing is about as existential as it gets—heck, the majority of the time there’s even an easier way to walk up the backside. What matters is the experience you create for yourself, and that you don’t come out the same as when you started, because at the end of the day we’re all just idiots running around chasing windmills, but we just might learn something in the process.

Ultimately Alex decided to finish the traverse, and the easiest way was up and over Epinephrine. He and I climbed alongside each other, laughing and making fun as always—Alex’s quick wit not slowed by his exhausted body. Shortly after the summit we linked up with our final hero of the support crew, Ray, who’d hiked our extra supplies out from the base, driven around, and run up the ridge behind Red Rock to find us. We all three slogged to the highest point of the limestone ridge, forced Alex into a photo op, then enjoyed a gentlemen’s hike down. Sanni met us soon thereafter and awarded Alex the “joy” of carrying baby June up and over the final hill to the trailhead parking.

Look for a short film documenting the HURT coming to Reel Rock. 

In 2012 Maury Birdwell and Alex Honnold founded the , which celebrated its 10 year anniversary over the weekend prior to the HURT, announcing the launch of the a first of its kind capacity building accelerator for impact-driven nonprofit organizations.

FINAL STATS FOR THE HONNOLD ULTIMATE RED ROCK TRAVERSE

32 hours, 6 minutes

35 miles

23,000 feet of vertical gain

Technical Routes

1. Tunnel Vision, 5.7, six pitches     
2. NE Arete Bridge, 5.6, five pitches 
3. Dark Shadows, 5.8, 10 pitches 
4. [downclimb] Cat in the Hat, 5.6, seven pitches 
5. Community Pillar, 5.8+, six pitches 
6. [Downclimb] Olive Oil,  5.7, five pitches 
7. Aquarium, 5.9, eight pitches
8. Armatron, 5.9, five pitches 
9. [Downclimb] Myster Z, 5.7, five pitches
10. Crimson Chrysalis, 5.8+, 11 pitches 
11. Bird Hunter Buttress, 5.9, 12 pitches 
12. [Downclimb] Solar Slab, 5.6, nine pitches  
13. Inti Watana, 5.10c, 21 pitches 
14. Epinephrine, 5.9, 16 pitches 

Total pitch count: 126

List of Summits

White Rock Peak

Goodman Peak

Duderino and Buffalo Wall (Honnold: “both have summit registers but are pretty silly
”)

Sandstone North

North Peak

Bridge

Bridge Point

Mescalito

Magic Mountain

Rose Tower

Jackrabbit Buttress (Honnold: “if you consider that a ‘summit’ ”)

Juniper Peak

Cloud Tower (Honnold: “if that’s a summit
”)

Bench below the Rainbow Wall (Honnold: “register but kind of silly”)

Rainbow Wall

Rainbow East

Mt Wilson

South Summit Mt Wilson

White Pinnacle

Indecision Peak

Hidden Peak

Black Velvet Peak

Total peaks: “18 real summits (23 if you count the silly ones)”

The post Inside Alex Honnold’s Massive Traverse in Nevada’s Red Rock Canyons appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

At any given wintry crag in the Pacific Northwest, you’re likely to spot a number of sworn gear favorites from big brands. But there’s one particular item that’ll stand out against the snow and granite—and it’s bright blue. Climbers call them  “smurf gloves.” In fact, they’re polyurethane coated fishing gloves made by a Japanese company called Showa, and they’re one of the most unexpectedly ubiquitous pieces of gear in ice climbing.

Ice climbing is still a nascent sport. It’s only in the last few decades that brands have started to produce high-end, sport-specific gear for climbing frozen escarpments. So to fill that gap, devotees have long improvised equipment and borrowed ideas. The particular tale of the Showa fishing gloves starts at in Salmon Bay, Washington, which happens to be located right next to Vertical World, the oldest climbing gym in the U.S.

Read more: The Best Ice Climbing Gear of 2023

Enter: Dan Aylward. Aylward is a Seattle-based alpinist with a long resume of mountain accomplishments and brainy inventions. (Most notably, he once showed up to Patagonia wearing vibram-resoled ultralight track shoes for approaches.) For years, Aylward had made it a habit to stop by the Marine Supply Co. when leaving Vertical World, just to see what might catch his Macgyver-eye. One of ice climbers’ main problems is contending with precipitation and moisture, and if there’s anyone who knows about staying dry, it’s the fishermen of Seattle.

Around 2011, Aylward noticed the Vinylove, a waterproof fishing glove made by . They were constructed out of PVC-coated fabric, with a thin, furry lining. Translation: cheap, dextrous, mildly insulated, and totally protective against external moisture. Unfortunately the PVC coating was not terribly durable nor breathable, and therefore impractical for mountain sports. But Dan kept his eye out, and a few years later, the smurf blue Temres showed up on the shelves. This model was made of polyurethane coated material, and thus breathable. Cautiously optimistic that they might be too good to be true, Aylward put the new Temres to the test. During an attempt at Patagonia’s Cerro Standhardt via Exocet with Steve Swenson in 2014 his hands were dry, and after 15 or 16 consecutive rappels, there was no visible wear.

The Temres quickly caught on in Aylward’s climbing circles—including with an up-and-coming alpinist named Colin Haley. Haley is known for trying anything that might give him an edge, no matter how outrageous or dorky it looks. He quickly recognized the simplistic beauty of the Temres, and began evangelizing them publicly and online. (By this time, Japanese climbers had also discovered the Temres on their own.) Over the following years climbers continued to modify the Showa gloves to fit their needs, like adding gauntlets and cinchable cuffs to keep the snow out.

Showa eventually caught wind of their unexpected new market, and even more they integrated that market’s feedback. The brand released the , which now features a synchable cuff. While some lament the move from bright blue to a subtler black, this simple product born from the industry that brings us yellowtail from ocean-to-plate has become an alpinist favorite without rival. Despite their fancy textiles, technology, and high price tags, the Temres’ rivals are long-soaked through and threadbare while the 282 continues to get the job done.

Back to the Winter Gear Guide

The post How Ice Climbers Got Hooked on Showa Fishing Gloves appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.