On a sunny Saturday morning several weeks ago, my brother, Jack, our friend, Mike, and myself packed up the car and set off toward Rainier from Seattle. The view of the mountain was irresistible. Excited to get to there and start our climb we may have been going a little faster than was legal. After a short chat with officer Krupke, our perfect day began when we pulled into the parking lot.

I was excited to see Paradise bustling with smiling mountain enthusiasts. The energy was contagious. Every direction I looked there was a group starting out, grabbing a quick caffeine fix or strapping their snowshoes to their packs. Although, I could not help glancing up toward the quiet snowy mountain as I suited up and checked my gear.

We clipped into our AT gear at 9:15 and started toward the ridge. The snow had not yet softened under our skis, allowing for easy navigating and a smooth glide. This was fortunate because I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the panoramic view of the Tatoosh Range. It seemed like a rare privilege to be ascending a sun-soaked Rainier mountain wearing a thin top base layer and sunglasses.
Read More »

In the 21 years I’ve been climbing, I’ve come to take pride in my backcountry skills. I can get along almost anywhere and be fairly happy. I like to do all the different facets of climbing, trad, sport, bouldering and aid. I like to keep myself well rounded and have spent a lot of time honing my skills so I can rely on them.

As I came over Vail pass and descended into the town of Vail, nestled in the Rocky Mountains near my home. I realized I would need none of those skills.

Nada.

And that was just fine.

I was entered in the Citizen Climbing Comp at the Teva Mountain Games. A festival that is for celebrating us.

Mountain folks.

It’s a weekend of climbing, biking, kayaks, and music. The climbing consists of the World Cup of bouldering and a more humane comp, the Citizen.

As I walked over the morning of the comp, I was amazed at the number of climbers. 150 total, climbing in two waves on a wall that stood about 18 feet tall. Now I know what you’re thinking, 18 feet, that’s nothing. Let me be the first to tell you.

18 feet is freaking huge.

When you drop from the top, it takes a bit to hit the pads. And with a prosthetic leg and fused back, I wasn’t excited about landing.

The morning was chilly with a chance of snow, but the mc, Timmy O’Neill, kept saying how good that temp was for sending. I just wanted to get moving to warm up a bit.

My first two problems went well, that being I climbed to the top of the plastic and wood mountain, fell back to earth, and walked away.

I started climbing with some new friends, and we made our way through the problems. The problems are set up on a number system of 1 through 33. One being easy, 33 being silly hard. No ratings, just a number. It’s nice because you most likely will climb harder not knowing a grade. After all, it’s not V8, its number 27 silly. Heck I loved being 27, how bad could that be?!

We were given 2 hours to climb as much as we could. By the end, I couldn’t make my right hand close around holds anymore so I figured it was best to stop.

Half way through the event it began to snow and rain, so some of my mountain know-how helped, I huddled further under the big covering and made jokes, which I think is best when you’re cold and tired.

I was really blown away by the number of hard climbers. It seemed that most of the people there were strong and very motivated.

In the end, I placed second in my division, I was beat out by a mutant of a man whose arms looked like corded rope, but I was still super psyched to have made the podium for the second year in a row.
Two other friends placed in they’re slots, making me feel like we all had a great showing. Not that we placed, but that we were all out there supporting each other and using the best skill we all have.

Doing what we love in the mountains.

Craig DeMarino is a Cloudveil Inspired Mountain Ambassador.

For more on the Games, check this out.

I’m not a first ascent guy.

I’ve done first free ascents, second ascents, but firsts are just not my thing. I don’t have a problem with them, some of my best friends love to do them, and I love to go check them out after, just not first.

But as I ride up the hill near my house, past a very large block, I feel the tug.

It’s like it has a magnet on it. I stop and look, gawk is more the word. I can see the line, a blind man could, an overhanging arête that scrapes the sky open and is calling my name.

I’ve ignored this for over a year, like I said, I’m not a first ascent guy.

But finally, Friday, I give in.

I walk over and this time I’m doing more then looking. I look at the line, it looks clean and tight. Not a lot of loose stuff, but I can’t see the top out, 15 feet above me. I just figure I’ll cross that bridge if I get to it.

I sit in the landing zone as I bolt on my climbing foot, and look for anything that can mess me up if I come off.

Then I shoe up, chalk, and set off into the unknown. The first moves are easy so I get off the ground fast.

About halfway, it really steepens and I start to trust all the holds as I approach the lip. It is much more rounded then I thought, and as this is my warm up, I’m pumped already. The good news is it’s steep enough that if I come off, I should fall straight, the bad news is, I really don’t want to come off.

It hurts too much to land with a body like mine.

A hidden crimp gives me the key to the top out, and with a high left foot, I pull over the top.

The problem is not hard, most likely V2 or so, but for me, its fun.

I look around the valley, there must be 25 or 30 blocks strewn up the hillside.

All unclimbed, all waiting for the right hands to find them.

It’s a good thing I’m not a first ascent guy.

Craig DeMartino is one of Cloudveil’s Inspired Mountain Ambassadors.

I’ve been a climber most of my life, but in 2002 while climbing with a friend in Rocky Mountain National Park, I was dropped 100 feet due to a miscommunication. The fall resulted in the loss of my right leg, a fused back and numerous other life long injuries. After about two years of rehab, I was back to climbing at about the same levels of pre-accident, and in 2005 became the first amputee to climb El Capitan in under 24 hours. I love to ski and mountain bike with my family when I’m not scaling rocks.

Last weekend, I drove from Salt Lake City back to my home in Golden, Colo. and I happened to pass several new wind turbines.

I really enjoy the drive across Wyoming because every time I do it I can see some new turbines. There is a lot of wind energy to be harvested from the landscape up there, and I cant wait to see even more turbines dot the landscape in the future.

I thought it was also very interesting that as you drive on I-80 (a truly long and winding road), you pass a massive open-pit mine just near Red Hill in the middle of nowhere, and inside is a massive creaking beast of a machine. I’m not sure what they’re mining there, but it really appears as though an angry machine is tearing at the earth, while in the distance the wind turbines are spinning like silent white sentinels.

The last few weeks have been quiet.

I’m focusing on training, which means lots of time at the gym and lots of plastic climbing and campusing and circuit workouts. I don’t know if I’ll be as strong this year as I was last year in Rocklands, but I’m going to try. My campusing is inconsistent and I’m doing weighted pull-ups with much less weight than I was at this time last year.

Anyways, spirits are high and I know I’ll have a great season of climbing and filming down there regardless of the difficulty of the boulders I’m climbing on. Here’s a couple photos from the weekend.

An open-pit mine near Red Hill

Wind Turbines on a plateau

Francis, Utah. Our starting point for the I-80 drive.

We would all like to think we are Macgyver in the backcountry, but do you really know what to do when you get a leak in your waders in the middle of the river, or lay down in your tent to find you have a hole in your sleeping pad? The tiniest Do-It-Yourself tips can make all the difference in creating a successful trip or a gear nightmare.

McNett, the industry leader in gear care and repair products has just published a first-of-its-kind resource for gear junkies who are looking to repair gear for upcoming summer trips, or learn how to maintain gear so it lasts season through season.

Everything from how to properly wash a sleeping bag, re-waterproof a jacket, to fixing leaks and tears, to cleaning climbing ropes and repairing worn footwear is included in the Repair Guide.

Once you master these gear tricks, you can move on to more traditional Macgyver skills like building a working motor out of a paper clip, a piece of bubble gum and a rubber band.

It’s raining in Jackson, Seattle, Portland and Portland today. Time for some dry inspiration. This is Cloudveil athlete Luke Kretschmar, of Skiing the Black Hills fame.
Get pumped. Perhaps at your computer or in the gym today, but outside soon.

As Mark Zimmer continues his Summit Up quest, he will begin to check in with Cloudveil more regularly. He has written twice already for The Mountain Culture, detailing his excursions by blog. Before his weekly updates start flowing in, he wanted to give a brief recap of how he’s been spending his time. And why.

Here’s Mark:

Quick re-cap

Before I go jumping right into the stories of my travels, I thought it would be a good idea to re-introduce myself to make sure we are all on the same page.

First impressions are not usually fun, but they can be fun when they are through type.

It isn’t possible to read someone’s body language, and therefore it is hard to tell whether they are telling the truth. To capitalize on this, my name is Mark Zimmer and I am basically perfect in every way. I often have gorgeous women stalking me, I coach many professional athletes, and I almost understand the metric system. Amazing, huh?

Now for the truth. … My name is Mark Zimmer and I am a 23 year old from Grand Rapids, Michigan. Starting this month, I am going to begin climbing the highest peak in each of the 50 states to raise money for Alzheimer’s research. To raise this money, I am both collecting personal donations and flying flags for my sponsors on each of the 50 peaks. I plan to average one peak per month, and I will be releasing a weekly blog posts and short videos to keep you up to date on my travels.

Hopefully I generate some amusement for you along the way, and hey, I might even serve a useful purpose and raise some awareness for Alzheimer’s.

Read more about Mark’s project here.