Driving back from skiing in Marble yesterday, it’s pretty apparent the ice season in Redstone has come to a close. The Pencil fell down, the Pillar is missing it’s top, the Drool is running with water. What a season it was though! Aside from all the incredible ice that formed up, I also got more dialed in in the gear department. Along with the Black Diamond Punisher Gloves, I have found the holy grail of warm belay mittens. They are the Black Diamond Mercury Mitts, and these things are toasty! The first time you put them on you may be confused, as they seem to be generating their own heat. I didn’t know that the geniuses over at BD had developed minature nuclear reactors, but apparently that’s the case. They are sized large, which makes it easy to wear a thin liner glove underneath. This is nice for when you need to remove the mitts for some dexterous task, but don’t want to expose your hands to the cold. You can also remove the liners if you don’t need all that warmth, and substitute something of your own. These are the warmest things I’ve ever had on my hands, if you are looking for the perfect ice climbing belay handwear, look no further. This is as good as it gets.

After our “discovery” of the Narrows, we started to look around with open eyes. What else had been overlooked by those before us? One day I took a drive up Coal Basin, and came across the talus field with all the boulders sitting in it. After hiking up to a few, I found that the rock was incredible, way better than the pebble pinching of the nearby Redstone Boulders. The landings at first glance were horrible, with jagged blocks poking out at odd angles. But with a little vision, it was clear this could be a fun spot.

A little work on the landings, plus several pads and you were good to go. Luke Laeser, Matt Samet and I poked around the Roadside area, and started climbing the obvious problems. Others had explored the area before us, so we never claimed any FA’s (which always seemed kinda silly to me on boulders anyway, but I digress), it was just good clean fun. Hiking further up the boulderfield, we came across the Kwik-E Mart, shown in the picture. This large block has an incredible pocketed face that is 40 feet long and gently overhung the whole way!

The problems here are fun, and tend to be easy in nature, V0-V4, making for good circuit climbing, with some harder stuff thrown in for good measure. The new guidebook has a good selection of the popular ones listed, but there are MANY more problems waiting to be done.

Here’s a great article from Alpinist.com on what it means to be a climber in Kansas:

A man was arrested a few years back for roping up and climbing an offwidth up the side of the University’s Memorial Stadium. Rumor has it that Fraser Hall used to be bolted, and someone free soloed the 80-foot Mallott Hall. Supposedly an old issue of Climbing has a picture of a Kansas climber atop a light post on the KU campus [Figures. --Ed.]. A few weeks ago two climbers were warned not to builder on campus. The police still refuse to slackline with us.

The point is this: Kansas climbers exist, and they naturally occur. Flat land doesn’t preclude climbing; it modifies it. They say a person is never more than 50 feet from a rat. I’d argue the same is true of climbers, even in Kansas. We’re not just climbers, though—we’re completely obsessed. Even without a mountain in sight we drool at the thought of beating our personal bests. Kansas climbers understand the sacrifices it takes to live lost in a sea of plains. If time is money, then we’re taking out second mortgages just to get to decent rock.

Read the rest.

I have to admit, this spring I haven’t really given much thought to climbing. Sure I’ll get out here and there as the days warm up, but mostly I am excited to keep backcountry skiing. This is the time of year when the snowpack starts to stabilize, and you can get out on the bigger lines you only drool at all winter long. Last Wednesday was Mike’s birthday, however, and he wanted to go climb a tower. Who was I to argue? It did feel weird packing for climbing, it’s a lot simpler in some ways, no big puffy clothes or equipment. After tossing a few ideas around, we settled on Relics on the Grand View Spire in Colorado National Monument. This route, first climbed by Michael Kennedy, Mike Baker and Bob Wade, hadn’t seen much action since it’s first ascent in 1991, and it sounded like a worthy objective.

We didn’t get out of town quite as early as hoped for, but soon enough we were heading for Junction as the day began to unfold, bright and beautiful. In no time we found ourselves on the rim road, and soon came to the parking for our route. I’d climbed in the Monument before, but had never approached anything from the top. The view of the towers from here was incredible, especially in the light of a new day. What a privilege to be here.

The walk to the rim took two minutes, and we went about setting the rappel anchors, which would double as anchors for the tyrolean traverse on the way back. The 400’+ rappel soon behind us, we stood below the first pitch and let the warm sun awaken our senses. Shorlty we were off, sinking our hands into the perfect crack of the first pitch. A balancey traverse left was protected by two pins, then some final steep moves to the anchor. Great climbing.

The next pitch was the biz, in terms of difficulty, anyway. Mike did a nice job on it, piecing together his way up the clean corner to the final 4’ roof blocking easier ground and the anchors above. I quickly followed, admiring his handiwork. We both agreed I’d have to give my fledging aid skills a go at it if we ever came back. The next pitch was described as becoming softer and sandier, so I figured I’d see what that meant. After a funky flare, the rock indeed turned into sandy, nastiness, but the climbing wasn’t hard. The final 20’ was a nice handcrack, which I cruised up, thinking I’d be at the belay in no time. As I topped out the crack, however, I was faced with several large blocks wedged in the way. The rock on either side was decomposing crap, meaning I had little to nothing to work with. After trying to figure out a way around the blocks, which certainly would have caused some damage if they cut loose, I decided this was a job for Mike and his master top stepping skills. I thought he could probably get in a high piece before the crack ran into the blocks, and figure out a way past it. I lowered back to the belay, bummed I had to retreat, but knowing I made the right, safe choice.

Mike quickly zipped up on TR and then topped stepped past with ease. Instead of belaying, though, he continued up, and his progress soon slowed to a crawl. From below, I occasionally fed out some rope, and occasionally heard rocks being trundled to the gash on our left. Hmm, well, if he falls I’ll probably hear crashing rocks AND screaming, so for now I guess he’s alright. As I would find out once my turn to climb came, Mike was battling through the chossiest rock I have ever “climbed” on. It was not much more than decomposing sand, pretending to be rock until you needed to use it, and then it laughed in your face. I had the luxury of hanging all over the rope to get through it, and Mike is the man for dealing with it on lead. Apparently it wasn’t pretty.

After this, we just had a short aid pitch to the top, which I quickly dispensed with and then took in the view while Mike jugged up. The panorama before us was amazing in the evening light, towers are so cool, and it’s so incredible to stand on an island in the sky. We celebrated with some PBR’s and Cadbury Eggs, and then went about rigging the tyrolean back to the rim.

On the way up, I’d been eyeing the traverse back with some apprehension. I’d only tyrloeaned once, a long time ago, and that was only 30 feet off the ground. This was over 100 feet long, with 400”+ of air under your butt as you scoot along. After some assurance that the anchor was good, and picturing the folks that slackline this high, I sufficiently convinced my brain this was an ok thing to do. Mike lowered me out, and then I headed for the other side. I stopped occasionally to take in the view and get used to trusting the equipment in such an exposed position. I was soon standing back on the rim, and Mike followed suit. We packed up the gear and headed back to Glenwood for a birthday dinner we were quite late for. Not that it bothered us, as we were all smiles, and talk of future ascents filled the car as we headed east into the gathering night.

By Tracy Wilson, who climbed Avocado Gully for the first time last week.

BJ Sbarra on the huge second pitch.

For many of the locals, Avocado Gully is part of their winter training routine. It’s 13 miles south of Carbondale, and is a true classic, offering three fun pitches only ten minutes from the road. I know some people use the term classic loosely, but not I.

Are you SURE these are gonna keep my feet warm?

That being said, here’s the top ten reason why Avocado Gully is the bomb diggity bro-bra!

1. A quick 15 minute drive from Carbondale.
2. Right now it’s fatter than the average American.
3. Bolted belays.
4. The alpine-esque feeling.
5. There is only one steep pitch, on the hike in (see video)
6. Avocados are tasty.
7. You don’t have to be an ice climber to enjoy it.
8. It’s tucked away in a narrow gully that feels much further from the road than it is.
9. A great butt slide on the way down.
10. The car heater is only 10 minutes away!

Here’s a little more insight:

It should be around for a couple more weeks as long as it doesn’t get too warm, so go see for yourself why it’s such a fun climb!

Tracy Wilson is a recent transplant from Boise, Idaho, who is learning to embrace the long, cold, Colorado winters.