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Well, plans change. Thats to be expected. I was hanging out in Talkeetna- contemplating heading up on the big mountain for some skiing- but heard rumors of blue ice- and then the weather turned. Pouring rain and sleet are not inspiring camping conditions. So, I hopped on the plane and made my way to Squamish- where the sun has not stopped shining. Only one little problem, my fingers have been in gloves for about 6 months, and rocks are hard!
Ross Berg- always psyched- if he’s around- happened to be around- and was psyched to get up on the rock. After much debate- we decided to head up Freeway Lite- a climb both of us had been up before. I must say, I was relieved when he asked to take the first pitch- it was muggy and sweaty- and AK had not prepared me for this. My pores were freaking out. The first pitch is always a crusher- cause it looks so benign and low angle- then requires some intense zen concentrating keeping your feet on the non-holds while working up and around the corner. Ross only said “watch me” twice- and sent. Following with the pack had me sketching slightly- until I took control of my wayward brain reminding myself to calm down because I can climb this. It worked. We made it up the first pitch- but not without some bitching.
I looked down at my hands after finishing the traverse- to note that all of my fingertips were peeling like bananas- every single one- it was scary looking. Ross arrived at the belay only to confirm that, yes, I probably have leprosy. Ross split the next pitch- something that I’m sure he regrets- cause I then proceeded to take hours leading the second 30 foot section- because more than my physical lack of fitness- my brain will not allow me to climb above any gear whatsoever in a crux. (This might be why I am still crushingly sore three days later). But again, we both sent. Then, being the chivalrous man that he is, Ross offered me the final pitch. Yikes! It didn’t look like it had been climbed yet this year- cobwebs filled the key holds and water seeped out of the cracks. I began grumbling about chivalry being a thing of the past- but for some reason, racked up anyway. Hours and hours later, I found myself nearing the big roof that marks the end of Freeway lite. Yes! Finally. By this time, poor Ross was getting bored and silently expressing this with a bigger than usual loop of slack. I too, was ready to be there, and so placed my last cam- in a crack- extended with a doubled up cordalette (about 7 feet long) and climbed about fifteen feet above it. On good holds, I began a traverse back to the right when my left foot covered in moss and seepage skated. Falling! I yelled- but Ross seems to remember me calmly flying through the air. I remember panic- as I watched all of the pieces go past.
Sadly, I ripped my new Mountain Hardwear pants- and lost my favorite Mountain Hardwear Hat- it was brown with pretty yellow flowers embroidered in the side- but, I did get some air time- and hopefully will loosen up a bit knowing that the system actually does work. Truly though, Squamish in the Springtime- when the sun shines bright- and the rock beckons- could not get any better.

Well, AMS did it again- put together an awesome group and enabled another radical adventure in the mountains. Glenn, Bill, Chetan, Ti, Cindy, Hugh, and Matt kept me company (not all at the same time) allowing me to rediscover the Pica to be a little slice of heaven (although maybe just a touch colder and with a few more evacuations than I normally like). We lost Cindy and Hugh in succession to medical issues, but despite our loss, we kept chugging along- and by day eleven found that we were actually having a pretty good time.
Before . . . And after . . .
The mountains were friendly though. Most of the team members were beginners before this trip and I believe are now four true mountaineers capable of route finding through fields of glaciers, assessing hazards in the mountains, living the good life on snow, and going places that before was simply a dream.

We climbed Big Arapile, got turned back on another objective, climbed rock and ice, and navigated through the gnarly Italy’s boot ice fall.
I must say, day eleven was my favorite- first Bill cooked all of us pancakes with strawberries, then Ti made us all real espresso with the most incredible “Handpresso Wild”, Matt and Chetan headed off to try and find some snow they wouldn’t punch through to their wastes on, while the rest of us took a ski lesson that culminated in the always tricky and simultaneously hilarious feet of skiing downhill while roped up, then we came back to practice advanced crevasse rescue techniques, did emergency shelters, and practiced searching for beacons. Somewhere between all the madness of day eleven, I found time to bake a cheesecake (aka mix and refrigerate)- which we needed at the end of all that work in the sun. Then we packed up as much as possible for our AM flight back to Talkeetna- and all the comforts of Alaska in the summertime.

AMGA Ski Guides Exam

I have been having a hard time embedding my youtube videos lately- so just click on the link above to see some photos and video of my latest trip to Alaska.
I just finished my final exam with the American Mountain Guides Association. There are three disciplines one has to pass to receive the international certification as a mountain guide: rock, alpine, and ski. The process took me six years and I had been guiding for four before that. After passing coursework, an assistant level exam, and accruing a number of actual guiding days, we are permitted to enroll in the exam. The ski discipline was my last. For eight days (and much longer beforehand) the candidates guide examiners and each other through glaciated, technical ski terrain. Rob Hess and Colin Zacharias, masters of their trade, were our examiners. We had unusually clear and hot weather, forcing us to wake up in the dark (not easy in Alaska in May with 18 hours of light) so that we could finish each day before the sun warmed the snow making it dangerous. We suffered through some ‘firm’ ski conditions but found some beautiful sun softened snow as well. I learned a lot on this exam. I will leave the process of certification sure that I have lots of room to grow as a guide. But also knowing that I have come a long way.

Check out the link to Crested Butte Mountain Guides to see the video that Colin Zacharias made of our exam.

Valdez09 on YouTube

I could not pass up hitting Chamonix before heading back home. I only had four days free to get after it, but I made good use of time with some help from my friends. First, I happened upon three Swedes who added me to their already packed car. We had to leave the antique wine jugs they collected in Switzerland to fit. Colin Haley showed up the same day and happened to have some free time. Check out his blog. The first day, we skied the Cosmiques Couloir and the Grand Envers.

On our two laps up the Midi, Colin pointed out all of the classic peaks, climbs, and ski descents that we could see. It blew my mind. This was the most magnificent human creation ever. Essentially, they built lifts and restaurants, huts and bathrooms in the middle of a range at least as magnificent as the Alaska Range or the Waddington, or even Patagonia’s ranges. Walking through a tunnel in the glacier to exit onto a steep, exposed slope, in a line of a hundred people in harnesses, I realized how this place has potential!
The skiing was not amazing, we hit the Cosmiques before the sun had softened it up, and the Grand Envers was completely tracked. But I had little to complain about. I had only 10 minutes of skinning the entire day and skied thousands of feet of magnificent terrain.
Day two took us through the Mont Blanc tunnel to Italy for some sport climbing. Apparently, it is impossible for me to pass up sport climbing in the sun. We packed in the car a South African Jonno, two Swedes Peje and Eve, and Colin and I. I realized as I was screaming for having fallen a second time at the top of the 7a+ overhanging crack that I loved sport climbing in Italy. And would be back soon.
Day three: despite my soreness catching up to me, I was still determined to get out. Colin and I headed up the Albinoni- Gabarrou, an ice climb up the Mont Blanc du Tacul. It was a lovely climb with good ice and fine climbing. I did decide, however, that in Chamonix, climbing harder routes might be safer as less people on the route might abate the icefall. But we enjoyed ourselves and climbed efficiently- arriving on the train by two pm.
I really started to slow down on day four. I lay in bed after a sleepless night due to my roomate’s snoring debating weather or not to call Eva and tell her that I could not make it. I was destined to catch a train at 5pm and not stop traveling for the next day and a half. Plus, I was sore. But, somehow I convinced myself that it would be worth it. I turned out to be right. Lars, Eva and I noticed huge plumes of snow coming off the upper ridgelines, and we realized that the Col du Passion might be too windy. When we arrived, the lift was closed, so we had to resort to plan B. We headed up Flegere instead. After three lifts, we traversed and climbed up to the Col de Beugeant. A short roped section led us to the top of the col and another rope assisted descent to where we could put on our skis. This was the first north facing slope that I skied in Chamonix- and I was pleasantly surprised! We opened it up and ripped down the valley to Le Buet.
The beer and picnic at the bottom sealed my trip with a pleasant glow.

The trip home was epic. I had neglected to bring rolling luggage, so adorning myself with one hundred pounds of awkward duffle and ski bag, I made four train connections. Finally, at the Zurich airport, I fell asleep on a Starbucks’ couch and finally hopped the plane for the 17 hour journey back across the big pond. Whew!