Wordless Wednesday :: Late Afternoon Peak

South of Death Valley National Park, Dante's Peak (I think). May 1979.Copyright © 1979/.. by Rebeckah R. Wiseman.

RAB GUIDE GLOVE REVIEW

Belaying Jess up Twin Runnels of theMoonflower, C.Popephoto


RAB GUIDE GLOVE REVIEW



By Craig Pope





I burn though 3-5 pair of gloves a season climbing on ice alone. When u log a lot of rappels, mixed pitches, endless gear and rope handling, gloves wear out.



There are three areas a glove has to excel: warmth, dexterity, and weatherproof. Naturally, compromises in warmth/weatherproof facilitate the dexterity used to climb M-hard, and visa versa.



When I'm out "cragging" mixed rock and ice, I almost always pack around at least a few pair of gloves, and the one pair I always make sure to have with me is the RAB Guide Glove. One pair took a beating fora whole year, including 3 weeks in AK.



With a warmer, more durable glove, comes the price of reduced dexterity. However, with the Guide Glove, the way RAB joins the insulation/liner to the outer fabric/leather eliminates slippage of the liner material - unlike the majority of warmer, thicker gloves. I hate pulling a glove off only to spend 5 minutes tucking the liner back into each individual finger. I climb PLENTY of hard, technical ice routes with these gloves on colder days. What little the RAB Guide Glove lacks in dexterity, it makes up tenfold in waterproof, breathable Event, a full leather palm and fingers for durability. I rappelled at least 350 ice/mixed pitches in the one pair last year, and only at the beginning of this season did I finally have to retire them...almost.



When climbing the Moonflower on the North Buttress of Mount Hunter last spring, I found myself wishing I had brought two pair of the Guide Gloves - especially when the other pair of gloves eventually became nothing but weight in my pack. From simul-ing lower angle terrain with knuckles constantly in the snow, to freeing M7 with a pack and managing gear, to being turned around by hours of mind numbing, hammering spindrift...my hands were sometimes cold, but dry and able to function on an 8 hr rappel in miserable conditions. All of my toes suffered frostbite - and I narrowly avoided amputation (tight single boots anddehydration the culprits), but there was no harm to my fingers.



When I can see the last dozen pitches in an Ice gloves future, it's always where the stitching of the grip material connects the sidewall construction, (generally fabric), And almost always on the last three fingers if not between the index and thumb... With the Rab Guide Glove, instead of stitching and sidewall construction, the pinky finger is wrapped on two sides with a continuous piece of reinforced leather - but, just the pinky finger is designed that way. I would love to c ALL fingers covered on three sides without stitching. When I did burn through some stitching on the two middle fingers, and the "almost retirement" consisted of sewing it back up, and continue wearing em!



Leather stretches, and glove insulation gets packed out. I was glad I bought my pair with a relatively tight fit. If I am climbing a route that demands a thinner glove, The RAB Guide Glove is always

clipped to my harness or in my jacket for belays and rope handling.






Always on the harness...photo Jenny Gaddy, at FA "licking Razorblades" banks last wk










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Dream States

My first cycling dreams were vague and atmospheric. When I rode along the Danube in the Austrian countryside, I would re-experience these rides in my sleep constantly. It was mostly the scenery and the light I would dream of. That backlit look as the day fades into evening, the shimmering water, the aspens and the wild flowers swaying in the breeze. The rides themselves resembled dream states, with their improbably long sunsets and no clear end or beginning to the winding Danube trail. Fading peals of laughter from party boats, the clanking of dishes in the back yards of houses I would cycle past. The sounds trailed off, almost ghostly. It would slowly grow dark as I pedaled and pedaled and pedaled. When I remember one of these rides now, I cannot be sure whether it is the actual ride or the dream I am remembering.




Riding for transportation in Boston, cycling disappeared from my dreams for some time. The few I remember are short, anxiety-filled re-enactments of close calls - I'd wake up with a sinking feeling in my stomach from a car having cut me off or passed too closely. In waking life I experienced no fear or nervousness when riding in traffic, but it must have been there on some level - what I would not acknowledge in my conscious state surfacing in dreams.




Later it was roadcycling that populated my dreamworld. Like an animal moving its paws in its sleep, I would pedal with my legs and shift gears with my fingers. The novel sensations of ergo levers played a starring role for some time. My fingers just wanted to keep using them even after the ride was over and I was fast asleep. Tap-tap-tap... spin-spin-spin... thumb press, thumb press!... spin-spin-spin! It was mostly just the motions and the speed I remember dreaming about, the anticipation of downhills. There was also a magical effortlessness to it that did not exist in real life. In my dreams, my legs never hurt and I cornered elegantly. Tap-tap-tap, spin-spin-spin! It could go on forever, just like that.




A late winter ride to Lost Lake led to a bicycling dream of cinematic proportions. In a small group we had ridden through the snow covered landscape of central Massachusetts, a route that culminated in a dramatic course of rolling hills. The combination of the stunning winter scenery and the sensation of the ride itself must have overwhelmed my impressionable mind. That night I dreamt of Pamela Blalock standing atop an icy mountain, her long platinum braid fluttering in the brutal wind. She pointed at something in the distance, and when I looked in that direction suddenly it was I who was there, along with Dina, Emily and Pamela herself. We were riding what I first thought were horses but turned out to be huge bicycles made of a rusty, coppery material. Later I recognised them to be life-sized versions of some of the wire sculptures I'd seen at Pamela's house, but in the dream this was not apparent. Weightlessly we pedaled up a steep, narrow road in a blizzard, and just as we crested the hill we saw that the pavement ahead had turned to ice. No longer in a procession, we were now side by side and our bicycles tied together with rope. With incredible speed, we slid down the endless winding hill like some giant 8-wheeled chariot. I let out an excited scream, but it was so cold that I made no sound.




Other dreams of cycling followed - rehashing the day's events, playing out fantastical narratives, expressing anxieties. Before embarking on an overnight ride to Maine, I dreamt that my dynamo light was not working and that I couldn't shift gears uphill. After the ride, I dreamt of cycling endlessly along the coastal saltwater marshes in the dark. I had a handlebar bag full of tiny fresh bagels. I took out a notepad and wrote a letter to a friend on the side of the road, then dropped it in a mailbox and kept riding. I do not remember what I wrote or to whom. The night was warm and dark, only the outlines of trees discernible in the distance. Morning never came. When I reached the Canadian border, the guard was expecting me and gave me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I kept pedaling. That was the last bicycling dream I remember.

OR day 2

The Cube version is a LOT lighter!


But the new Cube isn't the only light weight boot there are others I'll be reviewing shortly as well.



A new ice boot from Asolo deserves some attention. 805g!













Best on liner from the show..any show to date?



When asked how the new boots climb?

"I used to climb a little. But my friends say......" when asked about the new Asolo Eiger's performance on ice and mixed.



The one and only "HOT" Henry Barber's answer to a question. If you are too young to recognize Henry Barber just think of a taller Ueli with a bigger set of titanium cajones from the '70s. Barber knew what leashless Grade 6 ice climbing was all about three DECADES ago.



12hr day today. I never come to Summer OR expecting much and am always surprised.



I simply too lazy and too tired to do the update tonight, bbuUUUUUUUUUUTTTT :)



I saw a few things that will change my own ice and alpine climbing significantly today. Total surprise again. But gear (hardware specific) I can incorporate into my own kit right now...like yesterday if I could get it all. That single meeting for me makes these trips worth while for my own climbing. More on those details in a week or so. But I think you'll be surprised. I was. Newtools from Grivel? Yes, the "MACHINE" is back in three new versions! And I like the design work a lot from what I have seen.









So I am stoked. Some times seeing this stuff 6 months prior to production really sucks! Lots of commentary and new products to introduce. But it is going to have to wait till I get more time.



Highlights today? New Jet Boil stove, ropes, hardware and climbing packs. Yes , real no chite climbing packs! New boots!! Again. Lots of new boots reviews coming up in August. Just in time for the fall alpine season and early ice.Good day all in all. More details to come shortly.



Till then thenew make over on the Petzl Meteor helmet had me pretty happy in the short term. Making my current Meteor obsolete sadly.









Just trying to share the luv above in matching lid and light:) Much more to come!



In the mean time check Raf's stuff out:



http://www.thealpinestart.com//07/or-show-report-summer--day-0-5/?fb_source=pubv1

Gray Tractor Frog

We aren't the only ones who've been glad of the rain.

One thing I love about Gray Treefrogs (Hyla chrysoscelis or maybe Hyla versicolor) is how amenable they are to posing. I'm not sure if they're smart enough to know that we don't want to eat them, or if they're just very laid back.

Hubby took this picture over the weekend while I was elbow-deep in soap. I don't normally work on the weekends but I'd gotten a little behind, and it was raining all day anyway. (I can't seem to quit saying that.)

Angels Landing :: The Overture

Two miles after leaving the trailhead, way down in the valley, you arrive at Scout's Lookout. You've already climbed 1,060 feet, but you know that the “worst” is yet to come. Watching other hikers scale this first portion of the ascent to Angels Landing, you get this sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You notice a few people sitting in front of that big rock. You approach them and ask the question “Did you do it?” No. They went a short ways up but turned back. The trail is too steep. It's scary. I sat there with them for a few minutes, then decided to go on. At the least, I had to try it. Lots of other people have done it. There are chains for safety. Yee gods, chains!

Yes, chains. Thank God! Just grab hold and pull yourself up, someone says. Yeah, right. But I do. And I did. You don't even notice how steep it is or how far down it would be if you slip and fall. Well, not much, anyway. You try not to think about it.

You concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other and holding on to that chain as if your life depends on it, because it does. But before you know it you've gotten over the first major obstacle.

Then you see this! And that sinking feeling comes back a hundred-fold. The trail goes up the edge, up the spine of that peak! Another 440 feet in height, in less than half a mile.

The beginning of the end. Doesn't look so bad, but it scared the begeebers out of me!

The view of Lower Zion Canyon is magnificent. I was told it was much nicer from atop Angels Landing though.

I talked to a few people as they came down from the top. “It's not so bad,” they said. “Just take it slow and easy and you'll be okay.” Another said “I'm 73 and I made it, so can you.” “You've already gotten over the worst part.”

But I wasn't so sure. The longer I stayed and looked at it the queasier I got. I wanted to do it, I really did. But doubts can be troubling.

To be continued... Angels Landing :: Interlude

Yosemite Valley

Monday, April 29th - - It was 24 miles from the Hodgdon Meadow campground to "The Valley" area, which took about an hour to get there - and it wasn't because of the traffic either! It was simply the nature of the route going up and down and over and around and even through the mountains. Luckily the road into the valley was wider than the road to Hetch-Hetchy!






The late afternoon light was incredible.





Upper Yosemite Falls.





Bridalveil Falls.




Bridalveil Falls from one of the pull-outs along the road back to Hodgdon Meadow. As always, double-click on the image to view a larger version...





Same view, zoomed in a lot. This really shows the "hanging valley" created when the glaciers receded many eons ago leaving Bridalveil creek with nowhere to go except down!