Random Training Thoughts #6: Mental Resources

Thanks to everyone who wrote me an email about my reading list for mental training. Really cool to hear from so many people. I started responding to each individual email, and it just got to be too much 'cause I was writing and writing. So I just turned it all into a blog post, here it is. It's unfortunately a little scattered, but if you've been reading this blog then you're a pro and can wade through it.

Mental training books are always full of contradictions--and often annoying. But maybe, just maybe, some of the more annoying things in the mental training books are exactly what your weaknesses are... One of the first "mental" books I ever read was Dan Millman's, "Way of the Warrior Athlete." I remember being so annoyed at his gentle suggestions to look into my motivations and understand why I was doing what I was doing. To hell with that, I was gonna THROW DOWN, not putz around with actually thinking!!! Millman was right, I was wrong, and I was annoyed at his suggestions because I didn't want to do the work. I'm not quite as much of a fan of Millman's books as I once was, but I did take the lesson that if something was annoying me I probably need to look at it more closely. And Millman's books are still useful.

I think every single sports psychology book I've ever read had at least one little "Ah ha!" nugget. Until recently I had an entire four-foot shelf filled with used sports psych books. Maybe more. You can go into any used bookstore in North America and find at least a half-dozen sports psych books for about $2/book. Spend $25 and actually read the books and I'll guarantee that $25 was the best deal of all time for what you get.

Anyhow, here are a few books I've read and found useful over the years.

The New Toughness Training for Sports

-Classic. Useful.

Mental Training for Peak Performance

-More "example" based, but good.

Go Rin No Sho: A Book

By Musashi Miyamoto

This is one great book. A bit obscure at times, but damn cool at others.

Arno Ilgner's books: Climbing-specific but useful.

Secrets of Champions. Flying-specific mostly but very good.

On Combat: The psychology and physiology of deadly conflict in war and in peace.

-Many of our physical responses in high-stress situations are very similar to the stresses of combat...

Music: I often use music to get my competitive or performance groove on; from Ministry to the Animals there's a song for every situation and mental state, either to maintain or change the space between my ears into what I want it to be.

I really, really like the message of a lot of punk music from the late eighties and early 90s. Minor Threat, Fugazi (anything with Ian M. in it) , Black Flag, Dead Kennedys, etc. It's all about doing your best in whatever way works, and leaving nothing on the table. The music those bands produced still forms the backbone of my world outlook. The Offspring, Jane's Addiction, and the Rollins Band are also integral to how I feel about sport and life, and how I try to approach new challenges. So many good lyrics...

Probably the biggest lesson I've learned through working on my head is that NOTHING is just sports-specific, from training to introspection. If you want to be a better athlete in the long run then you have to sort your head and life out. Michael Jordan, Tiger Woods, Chris Sharma, any top athlete either has his mental game figured out in some functional way or he or she stops being a top athlete long before they have to for physical reasons. The inner world of many top athletes might look very weird to an outsider, but it WORKS for that athlete or he or she wouldn't be at the top of the game. Lance Armstrong is one weird dude, but he's got a mental game that works for him, as well a life organized to do what he wants. If you want to climb 5.15, win mountain running races or whatever then you've got to have the physical training, the mental strength, and the lifestyle to get it done... Kinda cool and daunting at the same time when I first realized that I was going to have to re-structure my entire life if I wanted to perform at a higher level than I currentlyw as. That realization came straight out of the sports psych books.

It's always a lot easier to talk the people I work with into doing more reps in the gym or even more stretching than to get them to stop and work on their heads. The physical stuff is difficult, but it's the mental stuff that usually determines an athlete's longevity and success. Really...

So cut into your head and spread the debris out for a good look. Look your failures in the eye, your successes, and the reasons for each. Modify your life and head as required to succeed. Easy.

Think of what is right and true

Practice and cultivate the science

Become acquainted with the art

Know the principle of the craft

Understand the harm and benefit in everything

Learn to see everything accurately

Become aware of what is not obvious

Be careful even in small matters

Do not do anything useless

-Miyamoto Musashi

Random Training Thoughts #5: Mental

It's a fact of competitive life that the strongest and most skilled often don't win in the competition. I have won a lot of competitions against those who were better trained, more skilled and likely smarter than me. I have also placed either dead last or in the bottom ten percent of competitions in at least two different sports when I thought I was in world-class shape. My diverse results often have had far more to do with my head than my body.

Nobody wants to think about mental fitness. It's a lot easier to keep track of physical improvement than mental improvement. To become stronger mentally you have to look inside yourself and realize that, even if you can do a one-arm pullup with an engine block in the other hand, the ultimate limiting factor is your head And most people are simply too weak mentally to actually get stronger mentally. For many people the area between their ears is completely dark, off-limits and filled with soul-twisting demons that just can't be faced much less slain. But, unless you know how to hit your ideal mental performance state, all your training is quite literally a waste whether your competing at a world-cup level or trying to set a PR of some kind.

When I was competing in a lot of sport climbing comps I had a reputation for climbing "above my ability." This is debatable, as people tend to remember the successes far more than the failures (nobody remembers me falling off the third move at a world cup in Laval, France--I sure do). Anyhow, I think I could climb at my trained ability in a comp while most people couldn't. Same with onsighting. It's not about doing something special in a comp or high-stakes environment, it's about doing what you've trained to do and do in training. That simple.

So how do you train mentally? At a basic level, I try to train like I compete, and compete like I train. That sounds so simple, but very few outdoor athletes do it. I would also include any sort of "goal day" or GD under the competition level. If you're going to try and redpoint at a high level or set a new PR on the Grouse Grind (look that up if you don't know it, fun!) then you need to set up situations that mimic what you're likely to find, and then deal with it. Simulations don't have to be perfect and never will be, they just have to elicit the same sorts of feelings and stress you'll be competing or going after a GD under.

These simulations can be entirely mental; I often go and look at a venue I'll be competing in, and then sit someplace and quiet and populate the stadium or environment with people, a challenge, problems, and noise, distractions, etc. When I walk out to throw down very little surprises me... If I don't do this kind of prep I often do poorly.

There are many, many books written on mental training, and I have read many of them. Some are hokey and full of mumbo jumbo, but a few are good. I'd rather not endorse books publicly (other than my own, grin...) but drop me a private email and I'll respond. A few key ideas in good mental training regimes:

1. Worry about the things you can control, and get them right.

-Don't show up with your blown-out laces about to break. Be well-fed, well-hydrated, well-dressed, etc. etc. This a really deep well to look down once you get going on it...

-You can't control other people's results, or even your own. You can only control how well you perform... If you perform well you'll get a good result, but worrying about the result is wasted energy. We all want to win, but you can't control that. You can control how ready you are to compete and prepared to get a good result...

2. Nothing is ever perfect in a high-stakes situation. Deal with it, stay focused on competing well. Things will be messy; this is life, competition, solve the problem and move forward. Easy to write, hard to do.

3. Know what your head feels like when you are competing well, and get to that place.

-I often get very negative before big comps. I don't feel trained, don't feel excited, worry about failure, etc. etc. But I know that if I sit down in a bathroom stall for about 15 minutes I can generally pull this together and get into my preferred comp state... Not always, but about 90 percent of the time. Everybody needs to get to their performance state differently, but get there we must.

4. Do your best in training and in competition.

-Never accept less than your best possible effort. Some days you will be tired, sore, distracted, hung over, whatever, but do your best. You know when you do your best, when you leave nothing on the table. Sometimes my best isn't much, but if I've done my best then fuck it, that's all I've got. I have also not done my best in competition, and I still get pissed about those days when I left a little on the table...

Fundamentally I believe in training my weaknesses. Finding those weaknesses often takes more personal honesty than I may have on any given day. It's a lot easier to bang out another set of pullups than it is to admit I have the contact strength of a fish... In almost all situations your head is the limiting factor in performance, not your body. You do need to be trained, but if your head explodes at the sight of a starting line then what's the point?

Random Training Thoughts #4

I love training. There, it's out in the open. A lot of people have this hang-up that real men don't train, that somehow if you're really good at something you just are good at it naturally, and that training is, well, weak. This viewpoint is usually held by people who also believe that the olympics are full of talented amateurs, that pro cyclists don't dope and that anybody can be a champion in any sport. To quote my favorite musician of the 90s, Ice T, shit ain't like that. If you want to approach your sports like most of us approach badminton at a family picnic then no training is necessary. Drink some beers, be happy if you finally beat your sister, and it's all good. For everything else there is training, and I like it. I feel so much better now having shared that.

Early this morning I was doing a sport that required shorts bursts of concentration followed by 200M runs to examine the results. I ran the 200M both directions, and felt great. Low heart rate, strong, easy. I know this feeling; I usually get it when I'm doing a lot of hard mountain running, something I have NOT been doing lately. I'm going to attribute this directly to Crossfit. You don't run much in Crossfit, but you do go at a workout with intensity, that chuck-a-lung intensity that normally only comes when you're chasing or being chased. In fact, I can't remember the last time running felt so easy. Uphill and down. I don't think I would do very well in a long mountain race right now, but I'm surprised with how my 1500M or so of running felt today. I've had a lot of situations in the last month where I've thought, "Hey, I do this in my workouts a lot, no problem." Based on the fast results, wide range of applicable fitness and general, "I feel good doing this" I'm going to say that I think Crossfit is the best possible "generalist" workout I've ever done. I'd put money on Crossfit's athletes in almost any non-skill situation. Pick that really heavy box of books up and run it up four flights of stairs. No problem. Pick your motorcyle up after you drop it. No problem. Wrestle your topper on and off your truck. No problem. Boulder V5. Problem. Boulder hop a creek. Problem. The last two are learned skills based on practice and specific strength, and nothing but doing the activity is going to give you that. But I sure do like how my body feels and performs (that being a relative word--I'm at a family badminton game level in most things Crossfit) these days. I first started doing Crossfit specific workouts in Brazil a few years ago with a friend who was into it, and loved it. It's been in and out of my life since then, but it's just a good thing, especially for those of us who still want to be athletes as we age. I have no fucking intention of giving up being an athlete anytime soon, I expect Crossfit will help meet that on-going goal.

"Functional" gym workouts. These are relatively new; I first started seeing people doing bicep curls and lateral raises on beach balls maybe ten years ago. Now there's a whole whack of ball-based moves. I keep looking at people doing this stuff and thinking, "Ah, when was the last time I did anything in sport where I was rolling around on a ball as I did it?" It's like learning to make love by masturbating on a beach ball or something. Yes, it's maybe better than sitting on a bench to do bicep curls, but why not just DO whatever motion it is you're trying to insert a beach ball between you and the movement? I don't doubt you can get a good muscular burn (Ah, I'll admit it, I've done my time on a beach ball) with a ball, but attempting to simulate a more "life like" movement pattern by using ball just doesn't make sense. Do the movement, a ball just gets in the way. Pullups, presses, squats, running, situps, lunges. No ball required to make any of these more "life like," they are moves you do in REAL LIVE LIFE! Amazing.

Traditional 3x3 (or 5x5 or whatever) sets of a lot of different exercises that, cumulatively, equal whatever motion it is you want to be stronger at. This is the muscle head way forward, or some variation of it. It demonstrably builds muscle. It does not demonstrably build useful strength. Most exercises are very specific; this can be useful if you're seeking that specific strength (lock offs for mixed climbing, but even those are likely better trained using bands and other techniques to reduce the load). I have had luck rehabbing some injuries using very specific shoulder exercises to isolate damaged or weak areas; I'm not sure how these injuries would have responded to other forms of rehab as I don't have a "control," but they did seem to work. I don't think I'm going to be doing a lot of traditional weight room time ever again unless it's for specific injuries.

Endurance: I used to race Cross-Country skiing (without much distinction but slightly better than family badminton level) and have done a lot of really long days in the mountains. Based on a few endurance athletes experiences with Crossfit I'm likely to continue with relatively high volume low-intensity work for these cycles of my life. There was a University of Utah ski team member who posted up my last post on this subject; I'd really welcome his take on the combination of Crossfit and XC racing--being on the U ski team means you're very, very good. I'm doing a lot of reading on training for 24-hour endurance stuff at the moment as that's what my next three goals revolve around. We'll see what develops with that... I also suspect that the thousands of hours elite XC skiers spend sliding over the snow is also about building an absolutely massive internal matrix of "moves," just as a climber does. The ability to ride a flat ski on hard, soft, inconsistent or just plain old icy snow is critical, as is the timing of every input in so many conditions and situations. Same with cycling, especially at elite levels--Lance didn't just win because he was damn strong (ignoring all allegations and denials for the moment), he also won because he could read the situation and stay safe in the peloton... The hours of endurance training aren't just about developing wattage.

Sport-specific training. Unless your sport is simply too dangerous or possibly inaccessible to practice and train hard at then I believe this should be the vast majority of your "training" time. Only when there is excess time would I add in other stuff. For any sport at all. If you do ten sports reasonably often or don't know what life is going to through at you then Crossfit is likely the best solution. If you don't have a primary sport you're attempting to reach a higher level in then some sort of general life-training such as Crossfit is likely the answer. But if you're trying to be good at one single sport then train intelligently with the moves and specific requirements of that sport.

I used to really covet a gym with a full rack of barbells, a nice lat pulldown machine, a bunch of those Nautilus machines and a bunch of other stuff. My ideal training environment is a lot simpler now. More on that next time, I'm outta here for a few days, thanks for reading this. These posts aren't magazine articles, they're how I try to figure things out. Write it down, see if it makes sense to me and you, the reader who just slogged through this epic, try it out, see if works, revise as necessary.... Nothing is constant, no achievement or system permanent.

Random Training Thoughts #3

I've been training at one sport or another now for 25+ years. I first started thinking of physical activity as "training" during high-school sports; but the focus was always more on "practice" than on "training." I think this is an important distinction. We "train" for things like running, lifting weights, etc. etc. We "practice" yoga, archery, medicine, many martial arts and so on.

There's an old adage that to get good at something you have to practice, practice, practice, and practice some more. In Malcolm Gladwell's "Outliers" book he figures that about 10,000 hours of practice will produce mastery in any given field of endeavor. It doesn't matter how strong you are, if you haven't done the practice then you won't be any good at something.

Taking this idea farther, most sports may fall on a spectrum defined by straight skill on one one side and pure power on the other end of the spectrum. Target shooting might be the ultimate "skill" sport, olympic lifting the ultimate power sport (although skill obviously is required in even the most power-based sports--in fact, it looks to me that skill often wins out over straight power even at the olympic power lifting events). But, as a way to think of sports, I could put "skill" on the far left of the spectrum and "power" on the far right. Most outdoor sports lean heavily toward the "skill" side of the spectrum. Being a linebacker also takes serious skill, but do you damn well better have some power and mass to back that skill up. Far right of the spectrum.

The strength requirements of "skill" sports also become increasingly specific. For example, a climber needs to have tremendous specific hand strength (the ability to apply strength to a hold in any of the three common grips and their sub-grips), something that just having tremendous general hand strength won't provide (nordic skiers used to win the hand strength tests, not sure if that's true anymore). Without very specific and sufficient forearm ("finger") strength every bit of strength training is close to completely wasted. If you can do 50 pullups but not hang on a half-inch edge for 30 seconds then you're the equivalent of a car producing 500hp but spinning bicycle tires--there's no way to apply that power, not enough friction with the road. This is why so many gym-based exercise routines are completely useless for climbing. 99 percent of the time I--or almost anyone I've ever witnessed climb--fall off it's because I can't hang on.

So, for sports requiring very specific skills or far to the left on the skill vs. power requirements more time should be be spent practicing the sport than training for it.

There's another axis to the spectrum as well; the variable nature of the apparatus. If you're a target shooter then things stay relatively familiar. If you're an olympic lifter or gymnast you pretty much know what you're going to be dealing with when you walk out the door to compete or train. But if you're a climber or a skier then the the apparatus is going to be wildly different, and will require a much larger set of ingrained skills.

So now the spectrum looks more like a piece of graph paper with "skill" and "power" defining the X axis, and "familiar" and "unknown" defining the Y axis. I would argue that the time spent "training" will be highest in the low-variability, high-power sports, with the time spent "practicing" proportionately greater in the high-variability, specific power sports.

OK, there are a bunch of holes in the above, but I'm doing a lot of thinking on the subject as I go through another round of Crossfit action. Crossfit is training, but it also has elements of practice (the gymnastic moves, olympic lifts), etc. Yesterday I did my workout in yet another strange gym, and was so stoked to make a complete retard out of myself in public yet again. Nothing like hucking a lung while lifting exactly one bar in a room absolutely full of fancy machines and nice people nicely using the machines.

In my next post I'm going take aim at various common "training" strategies... Let's just say that I will never do another set of bicep curls again.

Random Training Thoughts #2

So I bust out today's X-Fit workout as hard as I can. I'm doing squat cleans alternating with some sort of ass-backards situp thing that fully messes me up. I'm grunting, dropping weights, sweating like a pig and generally making a scene without even trying. It's about as much fun as I'm going to have in a gym actually, mega. But as I cooled down I started thinking why it is that I'm in a gym on a nice day. I also got a couple of email comments this morning from people asking about winter and training plans, with a few links to various programs. I'm going to rant now:

I'm going to get real blunt here: If you want to be a better climber then damn well go climbing. Especially a better rock climber. I would bet any amount of money that if a person spent, say, 20 hours a week training and climbing hard in a structured climbing program (rock gym and outdoors) and an identical person spent 20 hours a week in a weight gym (even one promising some sort of climbing-specific program) that the actual climbing effort would destroy the gym program. Absolutely destroy it, as in 5.12 vs. 5.9, as in sending like a fiend and falling off before the first bolt on the same route. I guarantee this.

For skill-based sports, as in Glassman's quote from yesterday, practicing the sport will likely provide the strength and fitness you need (especially at a relatively low level). If you want to be a better ice climber then climb ice. If you can't do that, and it's harder because ice isn't as common as a good climbing gym, then a weight training program will help. A specific program, not a general X-Fit sorta thing (which, while it will help, I don't believe it will help as much as a focused program).

There was one program on the web supposedly designed to improve one's performance for climbing desert cracks. That program was only slightly more useful than going to a 24-hour fitness and doing bicep curls. I would take somebody and put them on a crack box for three hours a week and he or she will absolutely DESTROY any sort of non sport-trained climber (given a reasonable base fitness level...). But the funny thing about training is that we become invested in one idea about it, and the more effort we put into that idea and program the more we become invested in that idea... I'm sure everybody felt like the program worked, but only because they didn't have a control group who spent their time climbing crack boxes to then publicly kick their collective asses. Or a group that actually went outside and got coached on how to climb cracks, even better...

I do Crossfit and other forms of training for a lot of reasons ('cause it's fucking fun being a good start), but not to be a better technical climber. Time to go stack some firewood on my deck (hey, Xfit will be pretty good training for that, or is it the other way around? That's what I like about Xfit...). I train in the gym and outside of it to provide a base foundation of strong movement for all my sports and life. I expect that, in the time I spend re-building this foundation every year, my technical skills will actually become worse. Yes, worse. But I will be able to refine my general strength into specific strength and "applied strength" in the form of my various winter and spring activities. And my training will become more specific as needed. I have beaten hundreds if not thousands of athletes over the years who spent a lot more time than me doing bench press (although I have also done some of that).

This is turning into a long post, but I think all of us need to think about what we are training for (very specific to very broad goals), and honestly look at our programs to see if they are producing the results we want. And we need to measure these results as objectively as we can. For example, is the bumbly who came into your climbing gym a year ago now climbing circles around you despite all the sets you've done of squats? If your goal was to be a better climber then the bumbly has just shown he has a better program than you do. If we don't do this examination and evaluation of results then the guy pumping his tenth set of bicep curls to look better on the beach next spring is not only training more effectively than we are but also with more honesty. In fact, I'd respect Mr. Bicep Curl a lot more than the guy or gal who is doing a set of weighted pullups and claiming to be training for hard sport climbing. Seriously.

Now train. Effectively.

WG

Random Training Thoughts #1

" The need for specificity is nearly completely met by regular practice and training within the sport not in the strength and conditioning environment."

-Greg Glassman, Crossfit guy, long interview here.

That's an interesting quote from the man behind Crossfit, which is, for those who aren't aware of it, a sort of physical self-torture program that claims to be all things to all people (yeah, I'm being a bit sarcastic). The more I play with Crossfit the more I realize that their training ideas both contrast sharply with my own training over the years and also meet it in places. For example, I have always trained as intensely as I can. I've bitched about the lack of intensity I see in training on past blog posts. I've always tended to train with "super sets." Doing combined sets of exercises just made sense to me, it's how my sports work. I don't do a pullup then rest on a climb, I do a pullup then a row movement then a leg press etc.

But I've never even thought about doing a deadlift--that shit hurts your back, right? So why I am so damn stoked to have deadlifted 265 (that's about like doing five pullups for those who don't know the weight. Maybe three pullups...). Why does my back feel better than it has in years? Why do I feel good physically despite all my nagging injuries?

Something interesting is happening.

Three Rules for Tough Trips

We've all been on outdoor trips where the whole situation gets a bit sideways, or at least requires operating at a high output level for longer than is comfortable. Here are three rules for these kinds of trips:

1. Move the team forward. If you're sitting on your ass or standing around blankly you're doing something wrong. Figure out what will keep the team and yourself moving forward, even if a very small amount, and do it. Multiple one to ten minute slow-downs add up to hours and days very rapidly when on a long climb or trip.

2. See and accept the situation as it is. Improve it. If it's really bad think of Shackleton. See, not so bad.

3. You can complain, but it's gotta be funny or it's just whining.

I remember reading a story years ago about a friend, Barry Blanchard, suffering on a climbing trip where he wasn't up to the climbing standard. He cooked more, dug more caves, stacked ropes, did whatever he possibly could to move the group forward. That story stuck in my mind as a standard to try and follow--Barry is normally one of the best alpine climbers going, but on that trip he wasn't. He was still a very valuable part of the team. My best climbing and adventure partnerships have all broadly followed the three "rules" above. A fourth rule is that sometimes you can't live up to the first three; try and do better when you can.

The World's Worst Workout

Crossfit should be banned. It's a drug, it's a form of self-torture, it's a damn curse on my body's weakest parts. I tried to do this today:

21-18-15-12-9-6-3 rep rounds of:
Handstand push-ups
L-pull-ups

Sounds simple, eh? That's only about 84 pullups and pushups. Oh, wait, that's L-sit pullups and HANDSTAND pushups... I cheated so hard on this workout. I piled stuff on the floor so I didn't have to go as deep on the handstand pushups. My elbow's still a bit sore so I did some other lat stuff, the cheating just went on and on... And it was still all I could do to "finish" it. Yeah, I know I could have scaled it etc., but I didn't. Damn. If you think you're fit have a go at this workout. Oh, and it's for time, meaning you go as hard as you can, not pretty little sets where do a set and then pose. Give 'er.

Escape from the Atnarko

I woke up this morning in a hotel room, but it took me a minute to realize that I wasn't going to put the same non-dry dry suit back on and beat through the woods for the day. I was kinda sad when I realized my day would be spent eating up the Trans Canada Highway instead. Right now there are big salmon spawning up the Atnarko, Grizzly bears feasting on fish, the cry of a loon and the roar of a river crashing through a burned landscape. Right now.

What was supposed to be a reasonable two to maybe three-day 40km river trip morphed into a four-day battle involving epic amounts of flatwater (couldn't drive as close to the river as I had hoped, so we paddled across a big lake), a really, really big grizzly bear with a salmon over a meter long in its mouth standing 5M in front of me in the river (and I didn't have anywhere to go but toward the bear in a creek less than two meters wide--I decided flipping over would be the best move if the bear got surly), more log jams than I can remember, hundreds of portages around log jams, getting lost in a swamp, loons, and the general realization that paddling rivers through recent burns is likely a bad idea. But I loved every minute of it. For some reason I need to get way off the grid both mentally and physically at least a couple of times every year. There's just something deeply meaningful about traversing wild country that resonates with me. Life gets very simple, and the goal everyday is very clear: to make progress, and to survive. That is enough, and everything.

South Tweedsmuir park and the Chilcotin have really seized ahold of me. It's a truly wild place with engaging terrain and a real frontier feel about it. I saw a few other things in the area I need to get back and check out, I'l get on that as soon as the bruises, cuts, and tendon issues heal up. I'm thumped, and slowly heading home. It's really amazing how comfortable and pleasant driving my truck can seem after a good solid bit of recreation. I definitely do not need any more recreation for a week or two.

Thanks to Mark at Redshreds in Williams Lake (cool store and owner, stop in if you're in the area), and our stellar driver, Clint Fraser with Pine Point Resort, and Rolly of the same. It was a rough trip, especially if you were expecting more of a vacation-style river, thanks to the team we got down the river with. It was not an easy situation; I think I often "recreate" with a group of people who come from an alpine climbing or general background of, "It's going to suck, the only question is can we handle the suffering or do we have to pull the pin?" I'm starting to realize this is not a normal attitude in the non-alpine climbing world. I don't go out into the bush or the edge my known mental operating zone looking for "easy," I go looking for what's there and then deal with what I find. The process only gets more interesting as what I expect and what I find become more divergent. For me it's all about seeing things as they are, not as I want them to be, believe them to be from the outside, would like them to be, or think I deserve. What it is is what it is, now get 'er done. I think this is a common ethic in very narrow climbing world, but perhaps not so much in the rest of the world. I will do better.

One thing I will say is that the last couple of months of hard Crossfit workouts were great training for the trip. Crossfit is all about moving things around, pulling yourself up and down, jumping, and general "power" fitness. I had another physical gear on this trip I haven't had in the past, and it really helped. I don't think Crossfit is the solution for very specific fitness needs, but it's damn effective at prepping for the unknown and the general demands of life. I noticed that doing everything from putting heavy boats onto the roof of the truck (a clean and jerk) to powering up a shitty hillside through thick brush was easier. I'll ease out of Crossfit as the climbing season develops, but it's a good base to start from for sure. It also really shows me how lousy I've gotten at certain fundamental skills (jumping, squats, deadlifts). It's really easy to compensate for poor strength and skills without even knowing you're doing it. But if you're following an organized plan then those weaknesses are immediately shown, and you can fix 'em. Cool, I have things to fix...

Note--I don't have anything to do with Crossfit other than having done it at various points in my training.

Atnarko River

Well, we’re headed northwest to try and run the Atnarko River! Five of us, boats on the roof, game on! The Atnarko is the river we flew along on the way in to scout Hunlen Falls last year. In January there was enough water to run the multiple drops and slides, so we’re hoping to have very low water in September—the Atnarko peaks at some insane flood level every spring, we're hoping to have literally a tenth or less of that water. The gradient is about 200 feet per mile for the first ten miles, and it looks like the drops comes in pool/drop form. I haven’t tried a first descent in many years, this should be a good one if the water level is reasonale. If you Google Charlotte Lake you can see where the Atnarko flows out of the west end. There’s enough resolution to see individual drops, pretty cool! We’re figuring three days on the river including the flatwater and a hike up around Hunlen Falls. I can’t wait to see what the falls look like in summer, they were so wild looking in winter when we had a go at climbing them.

Tweedsmuir Park has really gotten under my skin; this is my third 14-hour drive to the park this year, it’s just an amazing place. We made nice short film about the winter climb of Hunlen Falls, but we’re not making a formal film this trip, just a good crew heading down river! See ya in a week...

Congrats to Gordon McArthur

For sending his long-time climbing project. Yeah Gord! Now it's time to get back at the training, no slacking.

The Power of Youth

I've been paddling and climbing more than normally with youth of late. I've also been watching videos, reading blogs, and somehow "exposed" to a lot more youth than normal (not counting the two-year old that normally terrorizes my house).

And you know what? I like 'em, especially in contrast to some of my generation. My generation was too dark, too pissy, too steeped in nonsensical holdover Victorian ideals, and over-read in Nietzsche and Sartre (plus a few others). I'm going to write more on this 'cause I think it's time to take a hard look at the dark motivations of so many climbers and paddlers in my generation.

I'm going to give one example to illustrate the point: When we ran class V back in the 80s we ran the drop once, and called it done. We would never have enough to run it again, why bother? We had survived, we had triumphed, we had overcome our fears, and running it again would mean maybe it wasn't so bad-ass. Kids today? They run laps on class hard V drops just for grins. They set good safety that might actually do something, and they take the drops seriously, but they go up and run stuff again and again. Because it's fun. And that is the difference between light and dark, running out of fear and running for the joy of paddling moving water. Cool, the kids are better than alright, they're inspiring the hell out of me.

Ah, one more example. My generation starved ourselves to climb hard. Today's kids smoke (not all, and not Nicotine), eat organic burgers, drink microbrews and send way harder than we ever did. Who do you think is having more fun? Yeah, I'm going to bet Sharma has had a hell of a lot more fun than Karn (no disrespect to Jim--I modeled a large amount of my early climbing life off of him, surely the greatest compliment one can give, and still think of his climbing regularly).

Now I gotta go train, 'cause I'm not a kid, and 'cause I like it. Hell, I'm going to do an extra set just for the sheer joy of it. Bring it. The lightness of youth.

Dave Thomson

I went to Dave Thomson's memorial last night. I was surprised as I looked around the room at how diverse the people in attendance were; old, young, strong, fading, all walks of life, genders, just a total mix. I'm going to write about Dave for my Explore column next month as I feel his life and death really warrant recording. He was born into a place that might define normal if it weren't so over-the-top normal, and died in a most extraordinary way by his own hand. Most of the people I know who die do so in accidents. Dave went out on his own terms, which makes the death both odd and somehow socially difficult to understand. If you die in an avalanche it's a tragedy. Take your own life and it's somehow wrong. The result is the same, why does it matter how it happened? Except that in Dave's case it does, as his death was very consistent with his super-independent life.

I'm still figuring this one out; one of the reasons I have a hard time writing for "serious" publication is that it I often over-write by about a factor of 10:1. To fit Dave into roughly 800 words I'll write 8,000 then chop it down. In Dave's case the nature of his life and death deserve a book, an anthology, a movie series. Sometimes I see kids on street corners with loads of ink, piercings, whacked out clothes and so on. Dave looked kinda normal, but he may have been the most genuine, way out-there guy I ever knew. I always said I was going to write a big feature on him, and I never did. It's too late now maybe, but I'm about 3,000 words into an 800-word piece so that feature is in there... I'll let the Explore piece do the talking on Dave, but I just wanted to note the end of his physical life here.

And another viewpoint

Dougald is a friend of mine who also knew Craig. Nice piece of writing on a subject very much on the mind of myself and some friends.

Congrats to Greg T.

Women use a lot of nice words to describe my friend Greg's physique. Check out the picture I stole from his blog--he's built. I suspect he could never touch a weight and still run larger biceps than most of us. He's just not built like your average or even heavier than average greyhound sport climber, but he's into sport climbing. Or said he was... The rest of the story is here.

Congrats on finally climbing 5.13 Greg!

And nice write-up on what it took to climb 5.12. There's some real insight there, and I look forward to the write-up on 5.13.

Craig Luebben

I can't remember when I first met Craig. Maybe while working at Rock & Ice back in the day, maybe in Eldo Canyon, maybe in Canada. But I got to know him through working on some stories with him, sharing information about ice climbing (he was keenly interested in many of the same topics as me and did a lot of original research that effected anyone who climbs ice), running into him at various crags around North America, etc. etc. He's one of those guys who is just always around somewhere, part of the fabric of climbing. But now he's not-- he died while training for a guide's exam. His partner was exceedingly solid and by all reports the route was well within their limits, Craig just got hit by a chunk of falling something. Done, and a family shattered.

No one can make life risk-free, nor would a risk-free life be worth living. But risky activities are just that. This one is going to keep me up at night. Sometimes I yearn for a simplistic belief in an ordered cosmos, but accidents like this rip that idea right out by the roots. I think it's best to realize we are insignificant in the cosmic scope of things and play the game with that knowledge, it might prevent a few delusions about our own importance or sanctity. We are also as significant as any other mass of anything out there...

I know that, for as long as I live, I will listen to Craig's death both for the echoes of the life he lived and the knowledge he added to all of ours. Listen up.

A danger you hadn't thought of...

I've done a fair amount of running, riding and messing about in New York City's central park. But I've been worried about getting mugged, run over by a sprinter, flattened by a drunk on a pedicab, but I have never once worried about the trees. Who knew?

Actually, trees have fallen and killed a fair number of people over the years in the Rockies. A couple of kids near Marble Canyon, someone on the Banff Springs golf course, and likely some other chaos I don't know about. I don't mean to make light of dangers of trees falling over (and I've been fully terrified in the lodge-pole forest around here during a windstorm), but I think falling trees is really not a major concern compared to driving, eating, drinking, or walking down the sidewalk. But stay heads up out there, the trees have a real bad attitude...

Alaska, a challenge from Mr. Trotter.

Alaska in the summer is fun--back home now, still thinking about the super long days, glaciers, icebergs, rivers and all the other stuff I saw. I was working for an Australian TV program (I'll reveal more on that later, not sure they want their cover blown) doing a story on glacial recession and climate change. Basically my job was to climb, kayak and otherwise mess about on the glacier with their host, and then talk about the changes I was seeing around the world as glaciers recede and the climate changes. I really enjoyed the experience, good people and a great place.

And when I came home I found a challenge up on a certain Mr. Trotter's website:

"Beat that Will Gadd, I double dog dare you fool. Just because you climbed Mount Robson (3,950 m) in 17 hours, doesn’t mean you can beat ME, I’m the best, or maybe you’re scared? Wink. Wink."

Right Mr. Trotter, let's get 'er ON!!!! (say that in a Mr. T voice). While it sounds like he had a fun day out in the mountains and may be sorta fit for a youth, he doesn't know fast from 5.14 in the real mountains around Canmore. Prepare to suffer fool! No winking, no nudging, I'm seriously pissed off and looking to open up a can of speedy whup-ass on the escaped chalk-eating rock monkey who has been poaching lines around here us locals would climb if we weren't so fit for slogging up choss heaps in the summer. I know choss hiking like Tigger Woody knows golf, no contest fool!

Alaska, X Alps

I'm off to Alaska for a week of climbing, kayaking, paragliding and filming the same for a TV program. Stoked for that, I've never been to Alaska in the summer before, should be an adventure...

I'm also wasting way too much time on this, the Red Bull X Alps. I know the terrain well as I raced the X Alps in 2003, and covered it as a reporter in 2005. It's an amazing event, the "live tracking" can take over your life.

Sports: Had a good Sunday--we hiked into and ran the Pipestone, which had a surprising amount of water in it (good) and then went and mountain biked to Ross Lake. Super fun afternoon of just being out and about in the mountains, love it! If you haven't ridden to Ross Lake you've got to check it out, it's one of the best rides in the Rockies that I've ever done (if you're uber-fit bike nerd ride it twice or something). Most rides in the Rockies go up and then down; Ross Lake just rolls along for a little under an hour each direction, and it's all rideable with a few fun stream crossings and places to fall down. I know this because I fell down when my chain came off. I know my chain was off because I tried to hop my front wheel up on a little bridge thing and didn't have any power in my pedals. First time I've ever landed on my head mountain biking, kinda cool.

Plus some other rivers, hikes, bikes, and general activity. Summer, yeah!!

More Rivers

Thanks for all the comments, real opinions and historical smack-talk on the last post--yeah, I remember the Wave Sports days and Chan well. A great era, be fun to see Chan and a few of the guys again (ran into Jordy, also from the same era, on the Skook). More on boats later, but I've just gotta write about rivers for ten minutes when I should really be doing other things just 'cause I'm so fired up! I've run a bunch of new, for me, rivers lately: The Elbow, Ram, and Toby Creek. Photo at left on the Ram, thanks Shane.

Elbow River: Show up at the put-in at six p.m., meet a crew, start paddling toward the lip of Elbow Falls without looking at it. I'd scouted this once at higher water while on a climbing mission in the area and remembered it as a kind of four-foot flop into a pool. At low water it's a bigger drop, which I figured out as I hauled ass off of it with hard boof... Landed level-flat on green water, hurt my back/right little stomach muscle a bit more. Continued on down the river without actually having read anything about it in the guidebook as usual, so it was all a pleasant surprise. Super fun slide. Warm water. So stoked to catch this run with enough water in it, thanks to the crew for a fun evening paddle.

Ram River: The South Ram is one of those "Gotta paddle it man!" rivers, an epic two or three day wilderness run through some of the best canyon scenery in the foothills of the Rockies. For those who know the area it's sorta between Nordegg and Rocky Mountain House. The only problem for me is that I'm a family man without the wife part of the family at the moment--this means I'm limited to one-day runs. My mom is in the house to help out and could likely deal with a longer trip, but there's a fine line between help and abuse of same. The solution was to do the two or three-day trip in a day. About 45km of river, with three burly portages and enough action to make paddling that far in a day difficult. Especially because we've had a lousy water year here in the eastern Rockies, and low water wouldn't work. My bud Patch wrote a little story up on the trip here with some more photos from Shane. We had a magic rise in the water level thanks to perfect rains, and a magic run.

It was a really solid day, a sort of alpine climb on a river. I would paddle the river again instantly, especially with the same or more water. There are literally hundreds of little waterfalls pouring off the edges of the canyon, and a strip of green grass running along the rim above the black rock for what seems like the entire run. It's just a magical place to kayak, with enough gnar to keep it interesting but also a lot of nice cruising where you can just relax and look around while paddling and boat-scouting ledge drops. Our day didn't feel rushed at all, just a nice long and difficult but ultimately smooth day out with friends. I could write a long article about the day, we saw and did so much that it was almost impossible to believe everything happened in one day. So many cool canyons, big waterfalls, animals (it was like a safari film at times!), driving, moving in a wild place with solid partners... Yeah!

Out of Canmore at five in the morning, back at 10:00 or so, just in time to put the kidlet to bed. Thanks to Shane (the recon probe--send him in) and Patch (Logistics--I still have no idea where the river really goes, I just drove where he told me to) and Rachel (A fierce shuttle driver--farm kids always have cool skills like how to operate bolt cutters).

Toby Creek: So it was the Elbow on Wed., Ram on Friday, toilet replacement and work on Saturday, and then the Toby on Sunday. The Seven Canyons run is bad-ass, and unlike the last half-dozen or so runs I actually read Stuart Smith's guidebook before I put onto the river. I've been really enjoying the on-sight nature of the last few rivers, but I remember Toby Creek from when I did a race there when I was 14 or so and wanted a little info. The reputation of the canyon below the race course was huge then, and hasn't slackened much since, but we had a solid crew--Shane, Mark, Larry and myself. The run's reputation is well-deserved--the 7 Canyons on Toby Creek is one of the finest canyon runs I've ever done. We had a little excitement before we even hit the first real canyon. One of the first drops had a couple of big diagonal holes in it (Oh, the water was at a "solid" level--most people run Toby when it's low for smart reasons), plus a river-wide log right after the holes that was just off the water enough to slip under--a technical drop. I did a deep exploration of the pour-over on the left side of the second hole, but managed to reach up with my paddle onto the rock beside the pour-over and yank myself out. Cool! Mark wasn't so lucky, and went for the full rodeo in the same hole. I was eddied out behind a rock and couldn't see what was going on--Shane hopped out of his boat with a throw bag, and I decided to stay in mine in case I need to chase a Mark or his boat. Eventually Mark flushed free, and Shane hit him with a five-star throw-bag toss. Wicked. Mark manned up and ran the rest of the river cleanly; I might have walked out after the beat-down he took, but he's tough.

The rest of the run went smoothly except when I rolled right above the only must-make ferry, my first combat role in a bunch of runs. Toby is definitely a really serious run, with some must-make moves and gnarly drops/portages in awkward places. I'd have to say that it's my favorite river of the year so far in terms of its paddling in the canyons and just general in-your-face nature. I don't think you can paddle Toby at any level and not find yourself very deep into a hole or two, which is cool if you're not right above some "Well, you might live but I ain't paddling into that if I can help it!" kinda drop. Shane has been the man with the plan on at least three (Cataract, Yoho and now Toby) new rivers this spring that I've done, thanks for that.

OK, that's the last week's sports action. I really, really love running cool rivers with good people! And my elbow is healing up at roughly the same rate I'm destroying my back/stomach muscle as I learn how to boof modern boats off drops, and how not to lift toilets... The water is definitely low now in the Rockies, but all we need is a little more rain to make it all dreamy again! I've done six (seven?) new rivers this season, which is a record for me--modern kayaking is awesome!

Kayak Reviews

So I need a new kayak. Back in the day (15 years ago) I was a sponsored paddler (which meant free to cheap boats and free beers from Chan, great era!) with Wave Sports, but since I turned into a climber/paraglider pilot the days of cheap boats are well behind me. Anyone who wants to pro deal me a boat let me know, but I won't hold my breath waiting for that to happen (Note--I just bought a boat--full retail pop, so it's too late anyhow). I keep reading reviews on-line for information about the new boats, but most of the reviews on-line are written by people who are sponsored by the company who made the boat they're paddling (gee, now that's unbiased and useful information!). How about this: if you want to write a review at least put on the TOP of the review thatyou're owned by the boat company and have no impartiality whatsoever--don't add that disclaimer sometime after the original review, way down below the meat of the text.

And then there are the reviews written by people who actually bought boats; with rare exceptions, everybody loves their boat. This is very sweet and nice, but for christ's sake it's the internet, be bitter, have opinions, mouth off, actually have an issue with something! The average kayaker on the internet is a pale shadow of the average climber, paraglider, mountain biker, hell, even phone user that uses the internet. I wanna hear that this boat SUCKS, and why!

But the worst reviews are written by those looking to get sponsored; they are desperate for free plastic like a junkie for heroin, and they will write nothing but flowers about the smelliest ass-product imaginable. You total chumps! Let's have a little integrity here; I understand if a sponsored athlete doesn't want to piss his sponsors off, but if you can't write something sort of realistic then don't write it at all. As anyone I work with at Arc'teryx or Black Diamond knows, I pull no punches on product design, and I'm not happy until the thing actually works like it's supposed to. If it doesn't work well then I don't go writing glowing reviews of junk on the net, that's not how it's supposed to work. Maybe kayak companies are different and expect total slave-like submission from their sponsored paddlers? Something is weird in kayak review land, and it makes finding real information about boats near impossible.

There's only one solution to a situation like this: I'm going to write my own reviews. I've paddled five boats in the last month, including the one I bought. Stay tuned for the first review, which will be short and not so-sweet, kinda like the boat it's about.

wg

The Twitter

So I just did a new-format interview... Kinda cool.

On-Sight: Carpentry and Rivers

Dropping into the unknown

One of the things I really like doing in life is on-sighting, a climber's term used to describe a climb where the climber starts at the bottom of a completely unknown climb and goes until he reaches the top or falls off. This is in contrast to a "redpoint," where the climber works all the moves, falls off lots, then climbs to the top without falling. Anyhow, climbs, carpentry, kids, school exams, rivers, whatever, it's just more fun to be in it all at once without a lot of knowledge. If the objective is really big then of course you research and so on forever, but then it often boils down to the "on-sight" effort anyhow. An onsight requires skill, in that you understand what you're doing and why based on similar sets of experiences from past efforts. In climbing you know a crack will accept protection, and that makes the onsight reasonable. It's that application of existing skill and knowledge to a new set of problems that's exciting to me. If I had to do the same climbs, rivers or flights over and over again I'd quit--it's just not interesting to do the same old thing again and again.

In the last week I've had a bunch of new onsights. A new railing on my parent's house (well, more of a fence, but it looks nice, thanks to Gravity Gear for the help with the drill!), new steps on my house, and a new river yesterday. All great, all "onsight." Love it!

The Yoho canyon was the run yesterday--I showed up at the put-in with exactly no idea of what we were up against. The looks on my old and new friend's faces showed that something serious was on, and by the time I pulled my sprayskirt tight I'd figured out that the run was kinda serious. The put in for the Yoho River is the best ever--there's a huge waterfall, Takkakaw falls, booming in a 1000-foot white rooster-tail off one wall, glaciers, it's just a rad place. The river starts bopping along in a fast but friendly enough way, but it's white from all the glacial rock flour. Glacial rivers always seem to move faster and slightly oddly to me, maybe because you can't see as much of the rocks and current due to to the color. I was paddling a new boat (full retail price!), and it took some getting used to. The river is fast, a bit pushy, and then it drops into a canyon that you supposedly can't climb out of. I'm pretty sure I could climb out of it anywhere if I were healthy, but not with a boat and not with a broken leg. And if you swam it would be bad, the river just rockets along. I began to have these memories from years ago, these little oral flashbacks of, "The Yoho, yeah, that's where X broke his leg, Y broke her arm, and Z lost everything but his underwear..." Holy shit, I'm on the YOHO!!!! I cranked my back brace down a bit and re-checked my sprayskirt, it's that kinda place.

But our crew was super solid, and everyone kept it together through one of the coolest canyons I've ever paddled. Big deep drops, pulsing no-stop canyons, so cool! Two of my friends knew the run, so it wasn't a pure onsight, but but it was a mega run! One broken paddle and a few rolls (I kept it upright if you count bracing with your head in the water as upright), but we all cleaned it. Modern boats and attitudes make the run easier than it was 20 years ago, but it's still serious. One rapid has a paddle bolted to the ball in memory a paddler that didn't make it out alive (I think we all gave it a touch for luck), and there have been more than a few rescues down there in the past. Most of the rapids are scoutable, but some are truly on-sight as the steep walls make moving around very difficult. Love it!

And now I've gotta figure out how to build a hand rail. Wish I knew more about carpentry, but it's onsight time again!

WG

Revenge

I'm up in Jasper for a few days. I used to live here, and learned to paddle, climb, cave and generally get amongst it in the mountains of Jasper when I was younger. Last night I paddled the Athabasca, the river I truly learned to paddle on, as well as raft guide on. As the trees, waves and water flowed by I had so many deep river flashbacks. I remembered individual rocks from over 20 years ago, people I paddled with, the texture of the light, the flow of the water around rocks, beautiful memories I didn't know I had. I love rivers as much as anything in the natural world, they are as perfect in their own way as any rock, ski or aerial line I ever experience. They are the pumping, alive arteries of the mountains to me.

Today I hooked up with some super solid Jasper/Mt. Robson boaters (Andrew and Sean) and had a go at the Fraser Canyon. This was THE bad-ass rig when I was in high school around here, and I only ran it a few times back then. Maybe because I took the worst beat-down of my life in the canyon below Overlander Falls. When I was about 19 I swam a half mile or so of vertical-walled class five canyon with a fair amount of water slamming through it. I'm still not entirely sure what happened before the swim; I have some ego-saving memories that likely aren't the truth, but the end result was that I swam what felt like ten miles of gnarly water, and I nearly blacked out in the midst of it all. Saw stars, puked, the whole experience. Broke an ankle... I didn't paddle that canyon again until today, 20+ years later...

Today we bombed it on down through numerous drops to Overlander. I kept laughing in the middle of the drops--I'd feel my boat get kicked a certain way, and then remember the drop. Not a sniff of any drop in my mind until I was in it and making a move, then it would come back to me like a smell from childhood. I've had good luck this year with following locals down rivers, just follow 'em and have fun, and soon we were looking at Overlander, which I was sure I wasn't going to run as it was the biggest, baddest thing in the area back when I was a kid. I had a look at Overland today and it looked feasible, which was worrisome--I mean, the legend, the monster OVERLANDER! I still walked it, just out of respect for the tradition of the waterfall... It's hard to explain what that waterfall meant when I was young; now it's probably had a couple of hundred successful descents, but I knew my business lay in the gorge downstream of Overlander...

Scout? Not with the locals, just line it up and go. I had to stop in an eddy above the canyon entrance and get my act together mentally. Just seeing the entrance to the canyon brought back a lot of memories, none of which were good. I even flipped over in a rapid just above the canyon, something I don't do a lot normally. But the Fraser just has more power and general ass-kicking lurking in its green water than most rivers I paddle. I can run a lot of class V creeks and not flip, but I remember having to combat roll once or twice back in the day on the Fraser, and today was no different. The water level was somewhere around 100, which Sean said was a solid medium. Andrew thought that was high. I have no idea, seemed like a good level to me.

Then I was following Sean's boat into the canyon, through the "Terminator" hole, surf the boiling eddy, couple more moves, into the big old eddy at the bottom I remember from when I was 19. I literally saw flashing coloured stars in that eddy back then, puked, and generally had some sort of near-death recovery from my swim. Today was definitely mellower, and I felt the weight of that beat-down from over 20 years ago lift off my shoulders. I'm definitely a better paddler than I was 20+ years ago, but I was also warm thanks to my drysuit and better clothing, with people who knew the river well, and generally fired up to give 'er. The Fraser isn't the raddest run I've ever done, but it sure was a nice day compared to the last time I had a go at it! Thanks to Sean and Andrew for a wicked day on the river. Kayaking good water with good people sure is fun!

Oh, and the kayak recovery program is working--my elbow is feeling way better, and all the kayaking is keeping me strong in the upper body... Yeah!!!

Now all I've gotta do is find a boat I love and buy it. I've paddled five different boats this spring... More on that later, I've got a completely pointless kayak review brewing up... Let's just say that not all "modern" boat design is much of an improvement on what I used to run back in the Wave Sports days.

Water Pics!

So much fun! Thanks to Becky, Shane and Jeff for a super fun run and taking these pics.

Yesterday was a quick evening session on the Kanbezi. Finally nailed a mystery move in the dreaded Widowmaker that had me gasping for breath by the time I came up. A mystery move is where you get the current of the river to suck you down under the surface for some period of time. Strangely, a successful mystery move means staying completely underwater for a really long time... It

seems so logical when you're doing it, but explaining does seem kinda weird.

And it's still raining in Canmore...

WG

Water: Best Invention Ever!

Water is the best invention ever. We really, really need it. Pure, fresh, water. But it's not a given. I always start thinking about water quality when I kayak. I'm in the water, drinking it whether I want to or not. We ran the Skookumchuck over in BC on the weekend, and it's a great river--seemingly crystal clean, beautiful granite boulders, fast, super fun run with a good crew. Not so "rad" but an all-time great river. The take-out is right beside some huge plywood factory or something. I have nothing against plywood really, I use it regularly for what passes as renovations around here, but seeing such a huge industrial facility so close to a river made me wonder. Maybe the plant does nothing to the river. Maybe it does. I think I need plywood. I've probably bought plywood from that plant. We are all hypocrites from an environmental perspective, but it's these little juxtapositions that make me think. Like pumping gas in the middle of winter to drive 1000K to go ice climbing on a climb that hasn't frozen recently, maybe due to global warming... Hmmmm.... Pump those dinosaurs man!

I like clean water. No real point to this post, just running a pristine river and then seeing industry made me think a bit. Not too much, I'm a pro athlete and all, but a little bit... Might look into some water quality issues.

Kayaks: Best Invention Ever!!

Yeah, I know I said wheels are the best invention ever a couple of weeks ago, and they are great, but kayaks are the real dream machines. I had one of my all-time super-fun kayak runs early this week with a few friends, Cataract Creek, in the southern Rockies. I haven't been creek boating much in the last ten years, but it sure was fun!

The day started off with a seal launch into a 20-foot plus waterfall. Now, if this were to occur in the middle of the day it would be cool, but it's a bit much right off the bat. I was fired up though and went for it, made it clean but landed a bit hard after boofing like I was in an old-school boat that doesn't boof so well...

The rest of the run was big smiles. We all ran the final rapid, "Leviathan," and had good lines. It was a bit of a mental push for me, but I felt good about it and ran it clean with a nice deep low brace at the end to keep the hair dry.

Cataract Creek is a great run both for the whitwater and beause there are no roads near it--it's a full wilderness experience, just bopping down a beautiful river valley with some friends. The big drops all have good lines, which I love.

All the sports I do involve "lines." Lines connect together to take you places whether it's on skis, rock, ice, in the air, or on a river. I think river lines are the most interesting to me because you can only see the surface of the river; it's all really a mystery, but there's enough going on visually to give you clues. Paragliding lines are also cool because they are almost totally invisible; you have to rely on very subtle clues and then feel the line with your senses as you're on it. Come to think of it, kayaking a big drop is a little like flying a rowdy line in the sky--you have to feel rather than see, and react smoothly rather than jerkily. Ski lines are more visible, strips of white between rock walls, or meaningless in a way, as in skiing a big bowl full of deep powder. Ice lines are a big reason I still ice climb, they just go through such insane terrain...

It's really all about the line in any of these sports I think.

Here's to "lines!"

WG

PS---and after a couple of weeks of kayaking, mountain biking and flying my elbow already feels better--I think it's mainly the kayaking, lots of motion without super-high gripping or curling forces. I've cured almost every serious elbow or finger injury I've ever had with kayaking, it sure works great!

Kayaking

I'm now on the Kayaking rehab program. This is what I do when I get injured--go kayaking. It's the first sport I truly discovered on my own, and in some way will always be my "first" sport. Check this article out, I think it does a good job of explaining why I like kayaking.

Shooting, Flying, nictone

It's finally warm again here in Canmore. Yesterday was a perfect day, one of those days with blue skies, little fluffy clouds, yeah! I ended up shooting video on a local peak yesterday morning for a reality TV show. A few of the west-coast rigging crew organized a really cool swing sort of stunt, and I was climbing camerman. This meant hanging on the side of a cliff until my legs went numb while wrestling a Z1 into submission (those who shoot in the vertical world with that camera will know what "wrestling" means all too well). Lots of fun though, I really like shooting and have done more and more of it over the last five years. I'm now to the point where I can actually keep the camera focused, exposed and on settings for most of the time while hanging in some silly place. A sort of 5.10 cameraman. I really enjoy shooting, it's mentally challenging to do well, there are always problems, it's just a big puzzle to solve especially in tough environments.

The shoot location was up high on a local peak (can't talk too much about the shoot as they have had problems with paparazzi, no kidding), and happily no one seemed to notice or care too much that my paraglider was in the tail of the machine on the way up. The shoot wrapped at 3:30 or so, and the sky was perfect to fly into. The only problem was finding a decent place to launch--lots of big rocks, big scree, not ideal. But right on top of a the ridge I found this perfect little patch of walnut-sized scree, and was in the air within five minutes. Pulled the glider up, YANK!!!, no need to turn to gain a couple of thousand feet in under a minute, flew all the way home and landed in my local school yard an hour later. Flying sure is fun, that was my first real flight of the year. I flew my older Rebel, which is a rock-solid DHV 2 machine, a lot easier to fly than my normal comp gliders. I had no vario, GPS or even watch on to tell me how high I got, but plenty high--swirlies of cloud forming around me, peaks WAY down there high. The snowy peaks were stretched out all around, with the lush green valleys below. I love flying in the spring!

The only problem I've got right now is my right elbow. Yep, blew it out somehow again... I want bionic parts, I really do! I'm so determined to fix this problem that I've done something really radical--quit nicotine. Those who know me well will be laughing, but I've got a serious habit. It started with Skoal years ago, then I quit that and chewed a oil tanker's worth of Nicorette over the years interspersed with Norwegian Snuss. But mainly nic gum--let's just say that I'm hip too all the Nicorette deals out there. Of course occasionally I'd run out of the nic fit gum and get back on huge quantities of Norwegian Snuss or the lip-buster. Anyhow, nicotine delays wound healing and doesn't seem to help inflammation either, so if I'm going to beat this elbow hassle it's no more nicotine. It's been almost three weeks now. The elbow isn't getting better, but I am staying off the dang nicotine gum. It was either that or take up smoking to get off the gum, only half-joking. Whoever thought up the idea of selling nicotine-loaded gum to get off nicotine was brilliant.

Have a great weekend, another nice one here, out the door...

Another one down.

Sometime in the last few weeks Johnny Copp died in an avalanche in China, likely along with Micah Dash and Wade Johnson. Johnny had spent some time in the basement Hilton at our house, and I'd known him for a bunch of years. I'd only met Micah a few times and didn't know Wade, but I'm sorry to hear that all three are permanently out of the great game of life. They added to it in a hugely positive way.

Every spring I involuntarily think of the springs of 2005 and 2006; during those two springs seven friends died in clusters only a few months apart. None of them died of old age. The older I get the less sure I am of the glib responses and justifications I've always used for living a risky life. I still believe that for me it's the only path I can ride, but the odds become more and more obvious as I age. I recently wrote about the odds of dying while climbing in Explore magazine (can't find a direct link to that story on-line, will look later). My conclusion was that climbing and most mountain sports are a lot riskier than we like to think they are. Sport climbing on good rock is probably the only form of climbing one can expect to do for a lifetime and actually die from something other than climbing in the end. And even in the controlled "sport" environment almost every long-term sport climber I know has hit the ground at least once, always in a "fluke" accident. As I read the on-line forums about accidents and death I keep hearing the words "Fluke" and "Tragedy." Both these words are nonsense when applied to accidents in mountain sports.

For me I'm never going to use the word "tragedy" in reference to a climbing or mountain sports accident again. A tragedy is when a whole family gets killed by a drunk driver. A tragedy is when a little kid gets abused. A tragedy is when a 30-year old mother of two young kids gets cancer and dies. Dying while climbing, kayaking, paragliding, BASE jumping or any other form of outdoor recreation isn't a fucking tragedy, it's a clearly predictable result of doing the activity. If I or anyone goes out while doing our sports with a clear understanding of the game we're playing then let's have a drink, cheer for the life lived, and move on as best we can. I know it's not that simple as death leaves huge craters in life, but I think that's the only sane response I can give to the continued and voluntary mountain carnage I keep seeing year in and year out. To celebrate the rewards without clearly understanding the risks is not only bad math but blatant self-deception.

So here's to all my friends who went out with their boots on. And to my two friends currently in the hospital, you're goddamn lucky, and I'm glad you were.

Booty

Booty, and not the junk in the trunk kind.

I spent a lot of my early climbing years on a continual quest for "booty" of all kinds (both the climbing and not climbing kind, but focusing on the climbing here). Most of my early racks were made up of carabiners, nuts, cams and other stuff that I'd found or worked for up to a day to extract. I learned from two master booty retrievers (Fitz and Dave)--Fitz in particular had mad skills including special little socket wrenches and shims for popping stuck cams out. To this day I get a thrill out of extracting some perma-fixed piece off a crack, even though I likely already have ten of the exact same sized piece in various stages of rusting decay. It's just the idea of getting something for free...

This all came to mind as I read this post on Supertopo from Tradmanclimbs:

When I first started climbing back in the early eightys I was taught the booty game. It was supposed to be fun and honorable. the rules went something like this. 

#1 Any gear that you lose due to incompetence, getting spanked, fear, lack of skill , retrete, etc. becomes booty the moment that you give up attempts to recover said gear. The exception would be if you let it be known that were returning the next day at first light to resume recovery attempt. Once you give up on recovery attempts it is in fact BOOTY;) 

#2 Gear left in the parking lot is lost and found, NOT booty. 

3# Any gear left in the process of a rescue is NOT booty and shall be returned to the rightfull owners or next of kin. 

#4 Finders of booty may offer to return booty to the spanked party but you will lose face if you accept the offer. 

#5 it is extremly poor form to ask for lost booty to be returned to you. If the finders offer and you refuse the offer and they offer again then you may acept the return of the booty but you will still lose face and owe them a debt of honor. This debt may be eased but not completly erased by a gift of beer. (You and they will know that you are their bitch) It is best to suck it up and just say, hey, thanks for offering but you guys earned it. 

The booty game is supposed to be fun and a way for strong poor climbers to build their rack at the expense of rich weak climbers. As soon as someone gets hurt it is not fun anymore so everyone should pitch in, help out and try to get everyones gear back at the end of the day. 

The best form is to solo up to snag the booty gear or lead up but rapping in is acceptable provideing that all recovery attemts by the loseing party have been exausted. 

I am sure that its different by region but that is how we felt about booty in the north east. 

Supertopo is full of self-righteous posing by has-beens, wanna-bees, desk jockeys and poseurs (I include myself in all of that), but occasionally a good gem such as the above sneaks through the usual commentary on republicans, guns, abortion, religion or the ever-popular 1,000-post bolting discussion. Worth checking out. Thanks to whomever tradmanclimbs is for that post, yes. I still keep a map in my head of where to retrieve some kind booty...

Wheels: Best Invention EVER!

In the last 72 hours I've had a lot of fun with wheels. More fun with wheels than I ever thought possible...

First off, I was just out in Vancouver to do a show for the Arc'teryx sales meeting. The show went well enough considering it was four p.m. on an absolutely stellar day and I was the only thing standing between the reps and freedom! Great to catch up with some old friends too. Anyhow, immediately after the show a plan developed to go do a classic North Shore mountain bike ride. One of those take the car to the top and rip it down rides Vancouver is famous for (I think it was called CBC or something for those who know the area). Arc. had located some hefty but not insanely huge mountain bikes for the outing, and soon we were off. Or not--it turned into a cluster for a couple of hours until the more HDD types eventually lost it and we went blasting off into the woods.

I've been a recreational mountain biker for a lot of my life, and sorta thought I knew how to ride. I can bunny hop curbs, and have the scars to prove that I've spent time on the trails. But I've never ridden a full-suspension bike with six inches of travel or more front and rear, big tires, full-face helmet, etc. And I've never even seen a trail like the one in the Vancouver woods, much less ridden anything so totally insanely fun. It was like a legion of gnomes had spent entire lifetimes in the woods building with rocks, trees, and magic. It was a sort of giant Gerbil maze (remember those things?) for humans, all put together with the same painstaking care that I've seen in centuries-old German cobblestone roads. The quantity of work is just truly incredible. Put a big, full-suspension bike on that kind of terrain and it's just mind-blowing what you can ride down. I was giggling within 50 feet, laughing within 100 and screaming like a mental patient  in the throes of a full-fledged hysterical fit within five minutes. And it only got better.

A lot of the fun is in the trail's construction--there aren't all that many surprise obstacles to take you out, unlike on more natural trails. The trail is built to be ridden--you have to fall to fail. But the trail is also hard; skinny logs a meter or more above the ground that you have to link up to other logs, all kinds of little ladder systems in the air, just so much fun! It took every thing I knew about riding to keep moving, and I had to unlearn a lot too--the downhill bikes are really laid back, so you can ride much steeper stuff without going over the bars. I kept hitting the brakes and looking down some drop that I probably couldn't walk up, and then just rolling off... It was full-on, a lot of  "I'm gonna die!!!" moments every few seconds, stellar. And that was before we came to the jumps.

I used to really like jumping my BMX bike, but mountain bikes weren't tough enough to really huck on so I gave up on that program 25 years ago. Sure, little hops, but not straight off six-foot drops--that would break the bike and me for sure--I've broken enough rims to know that... Then I saw our fearless leader huck it, and it was game on. I haven't had so much fun in years. I've never ridden off anything higher than a couple of feet; six feet looked like a pitch of climbing to me, then you huck it and it's just so nice. I just found a brand new drug...

The only problem is now I need a new bike! And I'm maybe going to have to move to Vancouver. A sunny day there is truly fantastic, a work of art. If the weather were just a little better in winter I'd move there, but I can't handle the swamp aspect of things in winter. But the biking sure is good, maybe...

Also hit the Grouse Grind with some free time, and a quick bouldering session too. I'm pretty sure you could ride down most of the Grind is all I've got to say--my mind sure has been expanded.

Hit the Red Bull X-Fighters on Saturday night in Calgary. This is freestyle motocross competition, meaning Red Bull built a bunch of insane jumps in the bottom of a big stadium and invited the best freestyle motorcycle guys in  the world to come session.  Whoever does the raddest stuff in a minute and a half or so wins. I've seen a lot of rad stuff over the years--BASE hucking, kayaking, surfing, climbing, but nothing comes close to what these nut cases can do on a motorcycle. There's a ton of video out there of the X Fighters, check it out. I'm really glad I didn't find out about this sport when I was younger, I would have been right into it. Yeah, moto X isn't the cleanest sport environmentally, but damn is it cool to see someone hanging by their knees from their handlebars 50 feet above the ground while a stadium full of people goes off. A friend said moto X is the most accessible action sport going to the general public, and I agree. Climbing 5.10 or 5.14 all kinda looks the same to the public, but a backflip 50 feet in the air without hanging onto the handlebars? Yeah, that's harder than a straight jump... 

So here's to wheels: Best invention ever!