Kechu

When Thomas Montgomerie triangulated two new peaks in the Karakoram, he had no idea he’d discovered not only the second highest peak on earth, but also the second most dangerous. And while Karakorum 1 was known locally as Masherbrum, no one seemed to know of a local name for K2. As Fosco Maraini quipped “...just the bare bones of a name, all rock and ice and storm and abyss…it makes no attempt to sound human… it is atoms and stars…has the nakedness of the world before the first man - or of the cindered planet after the last…” so calling the mountain K2 seemed more than appropriate and it stuck.

Superseded only by Annapurna as the most dangerous 8000m peak to climb, 25% of those who attempt the savage mountain perish. Not only is it technically one of the most challenging and committing, its extreme weather patterns can cause deadly delays. Only 302 have successfully summited and at least 77 others have died trying.

The challenges of the mountain make for great story-telling as well. Fatal attempts in 1939 and 1953, a troublesome first summit by the Italians in 1954, and finally the 13 deaths in 1986 and 11 more within hours of each other in 2008 give real-time chronicles of the epics these mountaineers face.

Enter Freddie Wilkinson whose alpinist wisdom and media savvy combined with knowledge of Sherpa culture brings to light what happened during the most recent multiple-fatality day. None of the surviving Western climbers could explain what happened, their memories fogged by hypoxia, exhaustion, and hallucinations. The truth of what transpired lies with four Sherpa guides who were largely ignored by the mainstream media in the aftermath of the tragedy and whose heroic efforts saved the lives of at least four climbers.

Wilkinson’s narrative voice is biting and witty and, while trying not to be too critical of the media’s push for speed over accuracy, he manages to pull the truth of what really occured when a collapsing serac over the Bottleneck severed fixed lines and dragged more than a dozen alpinists down the mountainside.

We’re excited to have the author present these findings in person on Monday, September 13th, beginning at 6 PM in the Foss Auditorium at the AMC in Golden. Reviews are non-stop positive and there’s much buzz not just about Freddie, but about his ability to weave a compelling tale. As one reviewer stated, a lot of climbers write (and not very well) but not a lot of writers climb.

Leave No Trace has Entered the Building

The Exit Strategies has come and gone but the message is beginning to rebound and the subsequent concentric ripples are rolling through a larger and larger realm.

This blogger won’t go through the details and reports from the conference. There are plenty of those on the AAC website.

This blogger also acknowledges that the problem isn’t restricted to alpine environments. And it’s not limited to simply hikers. It is a much bigger global problem than one conference of 140 conservationists and scientists can address.

I hiked out to Chicago Lakes from Echo Lake a few days ago. While I’ve snowshoed in during winter months, I’d not had the simple luxury of a summer hike and made it my choice for a perfect Rocky Mountain day. To those unfamiliar with the hike, the first mile drops from Echo Lake into Chicago Creek canyon. Four more miles up past the Idaho Springs Reservoir and you’re atop the moraine enjoying a spectacular Mt Evans cirque view.

On a summer Sunday, Echo Lake becomes a water park for Front Range folk escaping the heat and the trail to the Chicago Creek crossing busy as a fish peddler during Lent. It’s a favorite spot for families with small children and pets and, as we know, neither can control their personal functions very well.

As I hiked back across the Creek, a family with four small children was preparing to leave the area. I heard the father ask if anyone needed to go to the bathroom. On reflex I shouted to them “not in the creek you don’t!” I stepped back and quickly explained to my startled company the ramifications of urinating in a stream that flowed into a city water supply and the 100-foot rule of backcountry waterways.

Hiking back around the north side of the Lake, I sidled up to a woman whose dog had “assumed the position” and was leaving its trace in the lake. She was as stunned as the previous party when I pointed out the children dangling their feet in the water alongside the parties fishing for trout to toss in the fry pan.

These were seven people out of the hundreds at Echo Lake Park on one Sunday. It’s a miniscule start but I’ve added to my wish list that concentric ripples of wisdom, ownership and Leave No Trace turn tsunami.

All it takes is a little nudge from each of us.

Exit, Stage One

There’s a fair bit of buzz about what this blogger refers to as The Poop Group. Not to be irreverent, but it’s a little more to the point than calling this weekend’s international conference at the American Alpine Club Exit Strategies.

I’ve lifted the following description from the AAC website: included are top land managers, scientists, entrepreneurs, and wilderness participants from around the globe to discuss and formulate strategies for managing human waste in remote areas. The Exit Strategies conference will include general/plenary sessions, poster presentations, field-proven techniques and opportunities for focused problem solving.

There’s nothing new in this conversation. Those of us who regularly hike global trails continue to see the effects of poop, wandering off-trail, erosion, selfishness, you name it. It’s disconcerting at best, given how finite this natural resource is in the face of an exploding population and interest level.

Let me be direct and maybe a little preachy. How do YOU manage your waste? Do you urinate on wildflowers thinking it’ll hydrate them? Do you leave toilet paper on the ground convinced it will biodegrade? And what about the dog? Just this weekend I was hiking on South Boulder Creek trail to find that someone had dutifully scooped the pooch’s poop in a red plastic bag – then left it tied to a tree branch overhanging the trail. BLECH!

It’s not so tough to clean up after ourselves. Pee on a rock instead of wildflowers and the mountain goats will lick the urine off the rock instead of destroying the plant. Bring a plastic container with a tablespoon of baking soda, a shovel and scoop your poop and TP into it for the trip out. Notice I didn’t say Ziploc bag – they’re not biodegradable and the chance you’ll empty the bag and clean it is a big goose egg. A container works just as well and d’oh! it’s reusable, just like a pee bottle! No need to buy those fancy expensive kits – K.I.S.S.! Leave no trace is not a big deal, either – pack it in, pack it out, done deal. It ain’t feces science and it’ll still be lighter out than on the inbound trip.

Before climbing down off my soap box, I admonish you to take a stand or, rather, a squat with Your Mother in mind. Do some research and some reading and do your part. And keep an ear to the ground for the results of the Poop Group convention. Just think how icky it would be if the ground was covered in something…oh, never mind.

Der Letzte Mensch oder Übermensch?

The Last Man. In his philosophical novel, Also Sprach Zarathustra, Friedrich Nietzsche saw that nothing great was possible for the Last Man. It was Nietzsche's contention that Western civilization would continue to move in the direction of The Last Man, an apathetic creature, who had no great passion or commitment, who was unable to dream, who merely earned his living and kept warm.

Not so the last man on the mountain. In 1939, Boston aristocrat Dudley Wolfe set out to become the first person to summit K2. Inexperienced at high altitude, overweight, middle-aged, and unfulfilled in a life of leisure, Wolfe traveled thousands of miles to try and impress his ex-wife, only to be abandoned by his German-American expedition mates at 7000 meters. After almost two weeks languishing in his tent in the Death Zone he perished from acute AMS. A huge international scandal subsequently developed: it was Wolfe’s friend and expedition leader, alpinist Fritz Wiessner, and his deputy Jack Durrance who came under close scrutiny for inviting him solely on the strength of his bank account. His body remained in the clutches of the savage summit for 63 years.

Until Wolfe reappeared after K2’s unusually high snowmelt in 2002 exposed the remains to author and film-maker Jennifer Jordan. Walking along a remote stretch of the Godwin-Austin glacier near Base Camp, pieces of human bone, canvas tent, cook pots, and finally an old mitten with “Wolfe” written near the cuff appeared strewn about the glacier as if waiting for Jordan’s keen eye to discover them. And so the story began.

The Last Man or Superman? You decide after hearing Jennifer Jordan’s presentation at the American Mountaineering Museum on August 11th. Her novel, The Last Man on the Mountain, is fresh off the press and she’s touring the country helping unravel the mystery that’s prevailed around this controversial expedition. Whether Wolfe had aspirations driven by spiritual apathy or rampant ego, Jennifer will offer well-researched and compelling facts with photos and discussion beginning at 7 PM.

K2 is Übermensch territory, more foreboding than almost any other 8000 meter peak. It bears the second highest fatality rate among the eight-thousanders. Italian climber Fosco Maraini concluded that K2 was “all rock and ice and storm and abyss. It makes no attempt to sound human. It is atoms and stars. It has the nakedness of the world before the first man - or of the cindered planet after the last."

I’m sure Dudley Wolfe would agree.

The Vigorous Volunteer

Volunteering is the practice of people working on behalf of others or a particular cause without payment for their time and services. Volunteering is generally considered an altruistic activity, intended to promote good or improve human quality of life, but people also volunteer for their own skill development, to meet others, to make contacts for possible employment, to have fun, and a variety of other reasons that could be considered self-serving.

Now there’s a mouthful. And a mindful.

Let's get right to the pitch - the best part about volunteering for the American Mountaineering Museum or the Colorado Mountain Club or the American Alpine Club Library is that ALL of the elements above are inclusive. On top of accumulating extra good Karma points (maybe even scrubbing your Karma if it needs it), it’s fun, educational, social, and a superb way to network. Note: that’s how this blogger got The Job, so it DOES work.

This is still a scratch-each-other’s-back economy and for non-profits it’s the way of the future. You help me, I help you. Donate some time and skill to the 501(c)3s you most cherish (hint, hint) to keep them viable and I’ll get you in to programs and events, maybe get you a little shwag, some discounts, heck perhaps even a membership here or there.

It’s a win-win dealio. And incredibly easy to join in the fun. Contact Martha Perantoni, CMC Volunteer Manager and all-around kewl gal, at marthaperantoni@mountaineeringmuseum.org or at 303-996-2755 and you’ll end up having more fun than you can shake a hickory hiking stick at.

Or something like that.

Johnny Appleseed and the Real Hidden Gems

Last night nearing the home turf, this blogger was treated to one of those rare glimpses of the natural order many only read about – crossing the road in front of me were two elk and their three spotted calves. I sat and soaked in the image thankful I’d been in the right place at the right time.

It’s a moment similar to those Johnny Chapman might have seen time and time again on his wanderings throughout the Ohio Valley.

Johnny Appleseed was less legendary and more authentic in his deeds of generosity and conservation. He planted nurseries, built fences around them, arranged for their care and returned them to the locals for profit-sharing. Conservationist to the core, he paid to rescue animals meant for slaughter, wore no shoes (to save leather), ate no meat, and would accept a floor and meal at a stranger’s home in exchange for the chance to share stories about his meanderings. And a humanitarian to the core he never missed an opportunity to help someone in need.

By today’s standards, Chapman would be profiled a vagabond, a hobo, homeless. By today’s standards, we romanticize his life rather than recognizing that something as simple as walking in nature is not only possible but necessary for ourselves and for the greater good.

So we come to the Hidden Gems Wilderness Campaign. Appleseed would likely be one of its biggest proponents. John Muir, too – walking quietly along paths untrammeled by wheels, hooves, motorized sounds. No voices shouting “to your left” (if you’re lucky), no side-stepping things moving faster than you to avoid being run over, no vroom of two-stroke engines to scare wildlife and bury the sounds of birds, the wind, the cold crackle of boots on snow.

The difference now is that we needn’t romanticize it – the Hidden Gems Campaign sits at our fingertips ready to preserve more of the last-remaining pristine wilderness in Colorado. It’s not a lot of land but sensible in how it manages and connects other already protected areas. Surely there are ample opportunities for mountain bikers (and this blogger is one), dirt-bikers, equestrians, and snowmobilers to enjoy their sport that supporting these gems isn’t going to break the Trail Bank.

Who knows – this might be the year to rediscover your own two-footed human-powered adventure. With or without apple trees. And a couple of elk calves for the photo album.

Kongeriket Norge (The Kingdom of Norway)

Many years ago this blogger, on one of her various Europe trips, found herself in the middle of a Norwegian fjord crossing from a large ferry to a small boat via a shaky gangplank. Our group was intent on reaching a remote town at the back of a fjord to celebrate Sankthansaften, or Midsummer’s Eve, as only the locals were able. We reached our diminutive destination, threw wood on the big bonfire invoking Baldr to remain, drank local brew and polka’d through the long twilit night. I chuckle even now as I recount the memories – and I never told anyone I couldn’t swim.

Norway is one of those countries that often goes unnoticed in European trip planning. It’s most recent claim to fame was the 1994 Winter Olympics held in Lillehammer. Yet it’s one of the most strikingly beautiful countries in northern Europe from mountainous fjordlands down to the genetic makeup of a very handsome race of Scandinavians. We can thank Norway for Edward Grieg, Henrik Ibsen, Edvard Munch’s The Scream, Leif Ericson, stave churches, lutefisk, Telemark skiing, and thousands of untouched waterfall ice climbs.

We may not be able to invoke Baldr yet, but we are invoking you to join the Mountaineering Museum for the next sPEAKer series event, Hiking in Norway. On Wednesday, June 2nd, Lori Russell plans to offer a visual feast of slides designed to tempt hikers of all ages and abilities. Granitic mountains rise sometimes almost a mile from North Atlantic shores, and Noregr hospitality and traditions are as strong as ever.

As usual, the program begins at 7 PM in the Foss Auditorium. Admission to the Museum is included in the ticket price and will be open from 5:30. CMC/AAC members pay $3, non-members $5, and it’s all free to members of the Museum or the AAC Library.

Glad Stier!