Estarillo - 12 pitches

Potrero Chico is known for it's classic multipitch sport routes. Climbs that would be relatively impossible for all but the best, or craziest climbers are open to just about anybody willing to take a lead fall onto a bolt. Looking into the canyon, you can see parties spread out all over the limestone, hundreds of feet off the canyon floor. Meanwhile, herb collectors ride past on their donkeys, and stray dogs who've befriended climbers sleep at the base of routes waiting for the climbers to return with some goodies. It's hard not to become a better climber once you've come here. The majority of the fear experienced when doing a multipitch trad route disappears when there is an anchor already there waiting for you, so limits are easy to push, and consequences are low. Rockfall is the most dangerous part of climbing out here, a few days ago I was staring up into the sun belaying a climber on a seldom climbed route, and as I watched him, ready to catch a fall, I was nearly knocked cold by a pebble that he'd kicked off from over a hundred feet up. I didn't see it coming until it was only inches from my face. I swear my brain didn't even register that I'd seen it until I already felt the pain. It hit me square between the eyes. An inch left or right and I would have lost an eye. I barely held on to consiousness and managed to switch belays with another climber before I walked over and sat down, my face reeling with pain. I have a dent in my nose now, it's not visible, but ask me some time and I'll let you feel it.
Yesterday, Sean and I decided to give Estarillo a shot, it's a 12 pitch climb with many pitches as hard as 5.10 b and c. The truth is that I was pretty nervous, I've never been that far in the air without wings, and dangling from a thin yellow rope attached to bolts hooked into the rock feels less and less strong the higher you go. That said, Estarillo is now one of my all time favorite routes, it ascends a prominent dihedral on the right side of the ridge line. And even though at times you're insanely high off the ground, it's easy to keep your wits about you with the well placed anchors, and ledges that afford great rest spots. Still though, pitch 11 was the hardest I was going to lead, and it was also the most exposed. Moving from a perfectly good rest ledge, and climbing out to an overhang which suddenly pushes you out over the full 1100 feet of nearly overhanging rock below you isn't something that the body always takes lightly. I've found that I'm in fact afraid of heights. Not so much in my head, but in my body. I feel fine mentally, I feel stable, able to think, and at times Sean and I were even joking around. But then when it comes time to tell my body, "ok, lets climb that overhang" suddenly I end up feeling a little week, and my feet only move in small, tentative steps. The view from the summit though was one of the most rewarding places I've ever been. A palm tree shades a roomy ledge, The canyon is laid out before you, and the dessert of Nuevo Leon stretches out to the right. It's a climb that I highly recommend to anyone. Just watch out for the rattlesnakes, they like this line too.

Climbing in Potrero Chico, Mexico - Day 1

The moon was nearly full as I arrived in Potrero Chico, Mexico, but the rock walls were still only a shadow against the night sky. After a month of planning I knew little more about the place I was going than I did when I was first told about this place. Web searches yielded little information, and photos were scarce, but from the stories I was told the place was legendary. I pitched my tent, and a restless night left me dazed when I finally emerged from it in the late morning. Climbing out into the grass, my eyes where blurry, and I couldn't quite focus, the rock was still just a shape. As things came together and I rubbed my eyes to clear the night away, I was sure that I had still not seen correctly. But there it was, thousands of feet of Limestone stacked vertically, looming over us, a distinct skull shape peering out of the rock.

I am here to climb multipitch sport routes. I'm a trad climber, which is somone who climbs with the necessary equipment to create your own anchors and protection as you climb. Sport routes have been bolted already and all you need to do is clip in as you climb. On my first day, myself and my friend Sean joined two of the best climbers from Costa Rica, (aparently there are 10 of them) to ascend a route named, "Will the Wolf Survive." It was as I was leading the second pitch which was rated 5.9 that I realised that hights where scary regardless of wether or not you were placing your own gear or taking advantage of pre-placed anchors. Either way, falling is scary, but an easy grade like 5.9 allows for some relaxation since it's unlikely that you'll be falling anyways. We had climbed a few pitches to warm up before setting our teeth in to "Will the Wolf Survive" and already i'd climbed more on Day one than I'd climbed in a few weeks. By the top of pitch three, I was starting to feel "it" you know, that tired, I don't want to be 300 feet of the ground, feeling. Regardless of how I felt though I knew that I'd feel better once sumiting, so I swallowed my complaints and was the last of the four of us to start on the fourth pitch.
It would have been easy only two feet off the ground, but under no circumstances is it comfortable to move from a perfectly good ledge 320 feet off the ground out into an overhanging and technically demanding face, especially while wearing two backpacks.

As I stepped out onto the climb, I couldn't see the other three of my team sitting above me, but I could hear their laughter and joy that comes from having reached the summit. It was right about then that my hands cramped up so bad, that I couldn't even let go of the holds I was on. I yelped in pain, and warned them that I was about to fall, which I of course couldn't do because of my hands. Eventually I pushed myself off of the rock with my feet, and began biting at my fingers to try to pry them open, hopeing that it would stop the pain. Letting go of the rock 320 feet above the ground is never easy. Eventually I stretched my hands untill the pain left, but I was sure that nobody would believe me about the cramps. If I were them I would assume that I had simply had a tough time on the rock...
We made it down just in time to set our feet on the ground before dark, and walked back to town with dinner on our minds. I'm anxious to get on more of these climbs where you can climb higher and harder because of the extra security of bolts, hopefully the nervousness that comes with distrust of trad gear will go away, and I can get as comfortable as my friends who have already been here for a week. For now though, I'm just happy to have the option to spend 10 days in Potrero Chico, Mexico!

A Good Week

This last week I've been in DC at the National Geographic Headquarters with some of my teammates from my Arctic Expedition to Ellesmere Island. We're here lecturing on the expedition and showing photos from the trip. I'll have a copy of the lecture uploaded soon.

While in DC I found out that my Wild Chronicles episode had aired already on PBS, and managed to grab a copy of it for myself.

The Crestones

Only two and a half hours drive from my photography studio in Denver, are the Sangro de Christo range of mountains. When I showed people the photos most people assumed these peaks couldn't possibly be in United States, much less Colorado. Here are a few pictures from my solo hike in. I was there to do an outdoor lifestyle and adventure photoshoot for clients, but found working difficult while my eyes darted up and down potential climbs.

Stress

Everybody deals with stress in their own way. Believe it or not, I have to deal with it too, I know everybody thinks I have the perfect job and all, but hey, there is a reason I get paid to do it, and it’s not because I’m just that cool. Stressed out, and overworked, I tend to lose my focus. I start trying to Multi-task, and I’m no good at multi-tasking. So what can I do that will force me to focus? I tried going bouldering, but there wasn’t nearly enough in the realm of consequences to push me into that focused attentive state. I’m looking for something that could almost be called meditation, when all external thoughts are flushed out, and the task at hand is all consuming.

I’ve always turned to adventure to get me through those scattered moments. Snowboarding a hidden couloir far into the mountains and hiking into the woods with no trail to guide me have always been friendly to me, but today I needed something new. I’ve been climbing a lot lately, and though I climbed a lot when I was younger, I took a 4 year break and have only started pulling down on rock again recently.

Today, to find my focus, I soloed Cob Rock. Cob Rock is a two hundred foot tall granite monolith attached on only one side to the mountain, and it’s fairly easy. Only rated at 5.8 plus or minus depending on the route that you take. I decided to try to rope solo the route, and began around 1:00. The trick with Rope soloing is that if you fall, you will be caught by the rope, but you are alone, and there is nobody there to share your fear with.
It’s exponentially more exciting. Soloing has it’s downfalls too. After you make it to the top of each pitch, you have to rappel back down and take all the pieces of protection that you used back out of the rock, and climb back up again, only this time with the rope above you.

I managed to do the route in three pitches, but time was running short and the shadows crept up the valley faster than I had expected. So I decided to free solo the middle pitch which is only 5.6 yet starts 100 feet off the ground. No Ropes, no protection, just my hands and feet. It’s times like these that the mind really has to focus. Even though the amount of work is far less than if I were placing Cams into the rock, or trying to communicate with a lazy belayer, the consequences are drastically higher, and when you’re really in the moment, you feel less like a climber and more like you are weaving in and out of the rock. This was the focus I came for. And for some reason now that I’m home again, safe, I can breathe so much deeper.

The Last Days of Ellesmere

5/30/08
Tomorrow: Hot food, Drink, Warmth, buildings, showers... You get the Idea, and yet, life out here is by no means bad. Hard at worst. I do look forward to sleeping in the dark though. What will the City hold for me after this adventure? What Changes?
Today I took a few minutes to go for a ski by myself across the sound. I took my time and managed to cross in an hour or so, passage to land was barred by open water that had appeared overnight from the river. So I followed the coast for a bit before cutting back across the bay for camp. I eventually crossed my own tracks and there alongside them, two fresh sets of wolf tracks. They had followed me and must have snuck past while I was eating lunch. I followed the tracks as they went directly to camp, the prints of one of the wolves were quite large. I certainly wanted a to get a look at the beast but he never did show himself.

I’m both relieved to be out of here and quite sad, there will be more trips to come, of that I’m sure.

05/31/08
A bottle of red wine signifies the end. I drink to Howls and midnight sun for the last time. Perhaps there have been many lasts on this Journey and as well many firsts.

Wolves are circling me now as I write, should I fear? There are 4...5...Now 6! Perhaps I should stand up. Should I be afraid or should I stay still and possibly have the experience of a lifetime? The others are watching from camp which is quite far away. Now I see why sharks are called the wolves of the sea... Now I see 7 wolves! They are so much like sharks, their curiosity matched with their fear, though at once they could tear me apart. I want so bad to photograph them but my camera is in camp, to rise would scare them off. Perhaps I should keep this for myself?

They came quite close just then, 10 feet away perhaps, enough to look into their eyes and see that they were not here for violence but for simple curiosity.

Alone, on the Ice, In the land of wolves.

Patience, patience, another approaches. Even the Alternating rhythms of my breath scare it. So much fear and yet so much calm, it is only 5 feet from me. I do not turn to face it this time but allow it to approach from behind, always in the corner of my eye.. It certainly prefers my blind spot.

Wow, truly an experience of a lifetime. Who gets so close to such wild creatures, so magnificent they are, so powerful! A perfect way to say goodbye to the arctic. I’m anxious to say goodbye and hello to a lifestyle though, and New York will be welcome with all of it’s eccentricities.

After the Wolf Experience:
It sniffed the air from behind me. I force my muscles not to turn my neck, the slightest motion scares it away and each time our play of trust begins anew. I risk it all to simply be near, and the only reference I have to the approaching wolf is is it’s breath on my neck. This is enough, for my senses flood with the desire to run. I remind myself that the reputation of the wolf is made by men who fear and I take the body-language as a sign of it’s intentions instead of the stories. So I sit and when it is over I return to camp. Tobias watched it happen and waits with shared elation. As it turns out, there were people watching the whole time, the entire experience is on film, what Luck! My last night on Ellesmere...



June 3rd
Two days ago we stood on the wild Ice of Eureka Sound, and here we stand now, in New York City wearing fancy shirts, eating fancy dinners, and trying our best to act normal. It’s these contrasts that make life interesting, and at least for me, the sudden immersion into an entirely different culture just highlights the best memories of our adventure. As we left Eureka, our egos had been whittled down to the bone as we were transformed into a team of people with a common goal. The effect was amplified by the physical stresses that confronted us, and the little amount of time we had to actually reflect upon ourselves while faced with the wonders of the North, and the many tasks that faced us each day. We all find ourselves striving to make New York as much like the arctic as we can, Sam opens the windows to his hotel room trying to get fresh air, I turn up the AC to make it as cold as possible in my room, and all of us are faced with our various sleep issues, I can’t sleep because of the lack of exercise, and Toby cannot sleep enough. We are all adjusting though, and will soon be back into whatever life we have waiting for us. For me, I have many months of travel coming up, and a few conservation projects in the works, but the Arctic has left to strong an impression to be ignored. I plan on pursuing some of the stories that are common to the Arctic but unheard of in the bustling southern world, for now though, my priority list is short, to go home, see my family, my friends, and celebrate the opportunity that I have been given to inspire people to take action and make the world a better place.

Ellesmere Island Journal Days 15-17

5/25/08
For days we’ve seen no sign of man. In the first weeks there was nothing but stories that showed man had ever traveled here. Then a single plane flew overhead at 30,000 feet, I assume full of dozing passengers, bad food, and crying babies. As they rocketed through the sky, probably barely noticing Ellesmere below them, we plodded along on the sea ice, watching it’s trailing ribbon. From then on, the occasional fuel barrel would pop into view where planes had landed and dropped the excess weight or refueled, thinking of course that these were parts where no man visited for fun. 6000 year old ruins dug through again and again by scientists were another sign of man, yet they seemed to fit into the land, because in truth, there was nothing about them that was not of the land. Stones piled high, discarded bones cut clean through. Now though we sit in Eureka Harbor and have left Axel Heigburg Island for good. Soon we will be setting foot on Ellesmere Island itself, the namesake of our expedition


Here in Eureka a few scientists have gathered under satellite dishes, radar, and the 24 hour sun, to us they are the furthest thing from normal.



5/26/08

They Would be shadows were they not snow white,
These wolves running through the arctic night.

Just as we were setting up camp, 11 wolves came out of nowhere and rushed into camp. Some were more than simply curious, and came right at the dogs. It was a strange balance between chasing them off and taking photos of them coming close.
It was a cool interaction, we didn’t have to be afraid of them except for our dogs.

I think the hardest part of the trip is leaving the dogs behind, K2 the loner, Pitarak the cocky teen, Denali the caring mother of most of the dogs here, Kapi the giant Teddy who would be top dog if he cared about anything but laying next to his brother Amurak. Augustus the friendly and playful... So many dogs with such personality, it’s hard not to think of them as people. They have far more intelligence than we generally attribute to them.

The Greatest comforts out here are these things that you have to conserve. If you don’t have to worry about running out and can indulge every day there is no sense being excited. Even toilet paper turns into a valuable item. 2 caramels a week are pure gold, and could sell at the same price, though not for cash perhaps for powdered milk.

I just realized that I’ve been Imagining the end of our expedition party taking place in the dark, as it’s al supposed to happen at night. Strange, I wonder what a Psych would say about that.

5/27/08
There is no better taste than the last of ones water

No sight nor sound betrays the pounding paws of the wolf pack. Once they’ve come, they’ve gone, leaving only melting prints in their place.

It is more than likely true that this will be the last time I’ll be alone on this expedition, sitting in the failing sun that will not ever fail entirely, the blue hue of this landscape rolls out before me. Even the slightest hint of man pulls me back to a world of cars, women, and selfishness. I’m sure I learned a great deal here, but I won’t be able to grasp it for some time. All I can do now is sit and take it all in. What continuation of this experience will I see next? How will I be able to make this time truly my own? Questions without answers are not ones that should be asked. When all of this is but a memory how will I feel upon reflection? Only time will tell, and time is not something I have enough of. All I know is that it stands still until it’s gone. I am still in the beginning of the expedition, landing on the ice of Axel Heigburg Island both afraid and determined.

...A memory
Crossing a great sound mountains rise on both sides. The old ice we cross was once jagged blocks crushed against each-other with glass sharp edges. Now it has melted into rolling mounds of blue and white, cloud-like yet firm, leaving the impression that we sled across the sky in low lying clouds that cover all but the highest peaks.

These are the things that bring me Joy:

Warmth in the Cold
Shelter in a Storm
Passion in the Moment
Moments in a second
Stillness in Violence
Stillness
Comfort in catastrophe


And here above the sea,
Alone I stand to take it in,
To my left and to my right,
No sign of man at hand for 14 days and a night,
And so I stand to take it in and lo,
There I stand,
The sign of man.

Ellesmere Island Journal Entries 10 - 14

5/20/08
Yesterday was a rest day. I spent it skiing solo in the mountains tracking muskox. I went up alone and finally felt like I was truly out on my own. A good feeling when wolves and bear abound. I even saw wolf tracks that had followed my ski tracks. The strange thing is that we’ve switched our schedules around so much so we can travel in the cooler part of the day, getting to bed around 2:00 am and rising at 10:am. Our day now ends around 9:00pm. When I went for my solo hike I left at 7:30 pm and was out till late at night. I kept on observing the sun and the changing color temperature and fought the urge to return to camp before nightfall. I had to remind myself that there is no nightfall up here. I found a point where I could sit high above an alpine lake and look out over the exposed meadows. In the distance a herd of muskox roamed below a jagged mountain range. I left a cache on the peak with a note and my contact information so someone who might find it could send it back to me in the future. Hopefully the distant future, perhaps even with their own stories.

The distance we manage to cover day after day up here is incredible, sometimes 25-30k per day. It's not so big of a deal except that it’s a daily event, through rough ice, and over mt. Passes. The feeling is that you are constantly chasing the horizon, pushing into the distance with every horizon that you reach giving way to a new horizon and a new goal. I’ve never been much of a distance person but I’ve managed to get myself to travel along side the more practiced members of the team. My body has hardened and become lean, and I have the ability to set to climbing a mountain and not rest until I get to the summit. It’s hard to decide how to maintain this hard earned shape once I get home... (Mt. Biking in Santa Cruz?)

I’m listening to Metallica - Turn the Page... Good song for the moment.

5/21/08
As difficult as days can be there is always something that balances out the experience. The dogs and their antics can be both frustrating and at the same time entertaining. Today as we made camp, I saw a pack of animals moving through a mirage. Their white bodies contorted in the vibrating air. The way they circled camp made me immediately think ...Wolf! And a whole pack at that. Soon, we had cameras in Hand, and sam caught a few frames before they disappeared over a rise. We trudged up the hill to track them down but couldn’t even seem to find their tracks! Rabbit tracks abounded though. Good feeding grounds for the wolves I suppose. Tension was high when we heard a chuckle coming from Sam, camera in hand. He had zoomed in on a photo of the animals and, there stalking us in the photo, were some of the largest rabbits I’ve ever seen... They moved so much like I would imagine a pack of wolves moving, circling the camp, staying on ridge-lines, and stopping behind hills to peek over at us. They had even fooled Sigrid, our wolf expert who has raised wolves from pups. To our own credit, the arctic hare in this area are known to be excessively large, and it’s one of the only places they have been observed moving in Packs. Other single Hare I’ve seen here were easily three feel in length. The mirage most likely made them appear even larger.

5/22/08
It’s days like today that make me admire people who do this in the most real tough situations, when you just don’t want to continue, and you’re cold, wet, and hungry.
I felt no groove today whatsoever, the snow stuck to my skis in 10 pound clumps and the sun refused to let up until a cold wet system moved in to make things worse. I even fell through the snow into a river that had caused a nasty slush under the hard looking upper crust. Oh well, I search for Balance.

5/23/08
With the exciting portion of the trip drawing to a close, I find my energy levels have decreased. What do I have to worry about? I know we’ve made it. That and the fact that my portion of the trip was so ridiculously easy makes me hesitant to feel much in the way of Accomplishment. Though I have averaged 25k a day in the arctic, far from home, friends, and family. I guess I still have some claim to pride. Most people would never put themselves here in the first place. I need to let the ego do it’s thing, and just let me be me for a while as it squirms inside.

The sun here is so Strong you can walk around with no shirt on, warmed by its rays as they are bounced from every angle off of snow and ice. Yet the slightest wind will remind you that you are still in the arctic as it strips away the suns warmth. All that is left is the suns power to burn you.

5/24/08
Today was an awesome long day, I started out thoroughly demoralized, so I forced myself to push harder. We hiked up to the mummified forrest which was pretty much the same as what we’d already seen inland, but it was still amazing to think that we stood in a 45 million year old forrest and were dwarfed by the age of our surroundings. It gave me more appreciation even for the stones and sand that I stood on. We walked with a more delicate demeanor for a while. Once we reached camp again, we set off with the dogs for another day of travel. Almost immediately we were confronted with the challenge of crossing a a river which had opened up literally overnight. Spring has arrived all at once. Fording the river was more a mental obstacle than a physical one, and we were across in moments. Though some of us walked in the river all day due to our mukluks flooding. After the fording, we had a pleasant trip through fast snow that allowed for plenty of time to chat and more time to think, which has actually been hard to do. Mostly I find I end up in a near meditative state where the kicking forward on my skis, encouraging the dogs, and taking in the softly rolling hills fully captivates my mind.
It’s so pleasant to be separated from the world, yet when there is someone you care about and every moment can bring change, and every moment matters, it’s hard to think of what changes may have come about while I’ve been away.

A month of Firsts!

Check out my first published writing on the National Geographic Adventure website!
http://ngadventure.typepad.com/blog/ellesmere-ben-horton.html

National Geographic Adventure Magazine

Here's a cool double page spread that National Geographic Adventure published. It was a fast photo shoot, set up and done in about 10 minutes!