By Erik Peterson, SRCFC Member

Alaska's Brooks Range is not exactly a preeminent climbing destination.  Overshadowed by the higher peaks and better climbing of the Alaska Range and the St. Elias Mountains, the Brooks tops out at a little over 9000 feet, and is noted for its poor quality, crumbly rock, and lots of scree.  The Brooks Range sits mostly above the Arctic Circle, so despite its relatively low elevation it hosts unfriendly weather, and remains rugged, remote, and mostly unclimbed. 

 

South Buttress of Northwest Ridge, Peak 2240, Brooks Range

 

Read rest of the story at Brooks Range Alaska.

By Calvin Landrus

NOTE: This is rework of an article released in Update 151 (September 2007) that was requested by Sixth Day Magazine (sixthdaymagazine.com).  It is geared towards men desiring to become more Godly men, published quarterly, in the Central Illinois area. 

  

As a teenager, one of my favorite shows was a REAL reality show from the 1970's called "Survival of the Fittest."  It was a broadcast of athletes from all disciplines doing commando-style, adventure-racing stunts before there was even adventure racing.  One of my favorite episodes is when the competitors ran down the steep flanks of Hells Canyon to the Snake River.  There was as much tumbling as there was running during the three-thousand foot descent.  
 
On a personal level this morphed into doing "Survival of the Stupidest" feats like running in a snow storm on city streets in the dark or doing 500 push-ups in a day.  The twisted sense of challenge spawned an idea for a fundraiser called "Climb-up so Kids can Grow-UP" which benefits an organization that buys medicine for children with AIDS in Africa.  My self-imposed assignment was to climb 30 pitches in one day at my home crag, Smith Rock of Central Oregon.  As a reference for non-climbers, climbing five to seven pitches is a full day.
 
The big day got off to an inauspicious start!  Approaching the crag from my campsite before dawn, there was just enough light to make my way.  Apparently, it wasn't enough light because lying on my pathway was a board in the field.  I felt a more direct and faster line was to step off the board.  Big mistake! Suddenly, my leg plunged into the cold water of an irrigation canal, causing me to lose my balance ending up fully-in the canal, thigh-high.  I sloshed my way to the start of my "survival" day.  

Not to burden any one person too much with my full day of misery, I arranged for three different climbing partners.  Mostly, my partners and I took turns in leading the pitches. Leading is the more dangerous part because the leader goes first and takes the rope to the top. Any slip off the rock leads to a fall.  My first partner, Ryan and I were cruising along when on our fifth climb, when he commented that a block he had just pulled on was loose.  But he moved past anyway and when he weighted the block with his foot, the block blew off.  Now, as his belayer, I was properly positioned beneath him.  When he screamed "falling," I looked up and saw the block heading my way.  While keeping Ryan safe on belay, I desperately jumped out the way shortly before the large block landed where I had just been standing.  This "survival" day had just gotten a little bit more serious.

Part of Falling Block

 

Read the rest at Developing Endurance in Difficulties.