|
|
|
ONLINE FEATURES
Book Reviews
BW Video
Columnists
Interactive Gallery
Newsletters
Past Covers
Philanthropy
Podcasts
Special Reports
BLOGS
Auto Beat
Bangalore Tigers
Blogspotting
Brand New Day
Byte of the Apple
Economics Unbound
Eye on Asia
Fine On Media
Green Biz
Hot Property
Investing Insights
Management IQ
NEXT: Innovation
NussbaumOnDesign
Tech Beat
Working Parents
TECHNOLOGY
J.D. Power Ratings
Product Reviews
Tech Stats
Wildstrom: Tech Maven
AUTOS
Home Page
Auto Reviews
Classic Cars
Car Care & Safety
Hybrids
INNOVATION
& DESIGN Home Page Architecture Brand Equity Auto Design Game Room SMALLBIZ Smart Answers Success Stories Today's Tip INVESTING Investing: Europe Annual Reports BW 50 S&P Picks & Pans Stock Screeners Free S&P Stock Report SCOREBOARDS Hot Growth 100 Mutual Funds Info Tech 100 S&P 500 B-SCHOOLS Undergrad Programs MBA Blogs MBA Profiles MBA Rankings Who's Hiring Grads |  |
JANUARY 15, 2007
Thrills And Chills Scaling frozen walls isn't for the fainthearted. But once you find your footing, ice climbing can become addictive Sixty feet off the ground, I faced my moment of truth. I had just hauled myself up a 30-foot stretch of vertical ice and maneuvered over an awkward bulge. Breathing heavily, I stood next to two ice screws that my guide earlier had put into the frozen wall. I clipped my rope into the carabiners, or snap links, attached to these anchors. After two days of learning how to climb vertical ice, there was no rope to catch me immediately if I fell. Now, I had to make it to the next ice screw, or anchor, without falling. If I slipped, I could drop 20 or 30 feet before the rope and the nearest ice screw caught me. The only solution: Keep moving in a very precise and methodical way. I swung one pointy ice tool into the ice, and then stuck in the other. I kicked one crampon into the ice, moved the other one up, and repeated that motion. I tried to keep my feet level with each other and create a triangle with my feet spread apart and one tool stuck in the ice above my head. As I left the relative safety of my anchors, I kept repeating the mantra of my instructor, Chris Haaland, an Alaskan and Himalayan climbing veteran. "Remember," he said, calmly from below, "make every placement count." What was I doing? I was learning how to climb frozen waterfalls at the Ouray Ice Park, nestled in a breathtakingly beautiful box canyon deep in Colorado's San Juan Mountains. The canyon boasts nearly 200 steep ice climbs along the sheer red and brown serpentine walls of the mile-long Uncompahgre Gorge. The ice is formed by a sprinkler system that runs parallel to the gorge and taps into a water source above town. Every winter night, the sprinklers spray over the edges of the gorge so ice forms on the walls. The ice park and the mid-January Ouray Ice Festival draw visitors from around the world to this onetime mining town. "This has grown from a handful of climbers in the mid-1990s to 20,000 to 30,000 climbers visiting over the course of the winter," says Erin Eddy, president of the ice park board. Climbers enter the park above the gorge, then descend ropes or steep trails to the bottom of the canyon walls--which range between 70 feet to 200 feet high. The climbing is free. Most ice climbing trips require an arduous trek into the mountains and possibly several nights out in the cold. Here, I was able to have lunch at a café (The Artisan Bakery) after my first morning of climbing, and then return to the peak to work off my roast beef sandwich on a steep vertical pillar. At night, I slept in the comfy confines of the Simba Suites condos and soaked my aching muscles in the steaming waters of the Ouray Hot Springs pool. Ice climbing and rock climbing share some important features. Both use ropes, harnesses, carabiners, and other specialized equipment for ascending steep granite or blue ice. But the actual climbing is different. A rock climber follows the natural cracks or weaknesses in the rock and is limited to a narrowly defined vertical path. With crampons strapped on the feet and ice tools in each hand, an ice climber has more freedom to blaze a path up and is limited only by the ice conditions and the technology of the tools rather than the natural features of the rock. Don't try this without some expert instruction. San Juan Mountain Guides in Ouray offers all kinds of ice climbing packages that include equipment rental. Group rates run from $315 for four people to take a two-day basic course to $995 for a five-day expert course. A one-day one-on-one lesson costs $305. Skyward Mountaineering and Suntoucher Mountain Guides also offer Ouray outings. GETTING THE ZIGZAG On my first day at the ice park, Clint Cook, chief guide for San Juan Mountain Guides, had me practice with one ice tool, starting at the canyon floor. He wanted me to find my balance between my feet and a tool stuck in the ice above my head. It's all about getting your weight on your feet and letting your arms rest. Cook describes the move as a zigzag, placing one tool above your head and then moving the triangle to the next staggered tool placement. "You can really go where you want on the ice and get into a groove and find a rhythm," Cook said. "For me, ice climbing is all about the rhythmic nature. It becomes a vertical dance. I compare it to the waltz." Marc Sargis, a 53-year-old real estate attorney from Chicago and avid ice-climber, agrees. "It is a very elegant and beautiful motion," says Sargis, who picked up the rhythm of the ice about 15 years ago. "I love the feel of it." Sargis owns a second home in Ouray and climbs about 25 days each winter. By the second day, I was getting the hang of it. Haaland, my guide for that day, suggested I was ready to lead our way up the frozen wall. There is a big difference between leading and following on a climb. When you follow, a rope will catch you immediately. When you lead, the rope is below you, and if you slip, you will fall 15 or 20 feet. The real reward comes from overcoming fear. I climbed farther from my last ice screw, knowing that my fate now depended on a cool head and a solid technique. My initial fear gave way to a jolt of confidence as I heard the "thunk" of my tools embedding in the ice, of knowing that every kick of my crampons was sticking. In my mind, I was dancing on the ice, playing in my own frozen vertical gymnasium.  By Stanley Holmes
BW MALL
SPONSORED LINKS
Get BusinessWeek directly on your desktop with our RSS feeds.
Buy a link now! Add BusinessWeek news to your Web site with our headline feed. Click to buy an e-print or reprint of a BusinessWeek or BusinessWeek Online story or video. To subscribe online to BusinessWeek magazine, please click here. Learn more, go to the BusinessWeekOnline home page  | | |
 Copyright 2007, by The McGraw-Hill Companies Inc. All rights reserved.Terms of Use | Privacy Notice |
Printer-Friendly Version