Climbing Books

This is a very accessible account of a second British attempt to summit Everest via the North East ridge organized by Malcolm Duff in 1985. A previous attempt in 1982 led by Chris Bonington (see Everest: The Unclimbed Ridge by Chris Bonington for more information about that attempt) had resulted in the tragic loss of two climbers, Joe Tasker and Peter Boardman. Since the author of the book, Andrew Greig, had only recently begun climbing, we are intiated into the inner world of the British mountaineering society at almost the same time that he is being initiated. This account focuses on the inter-relations among the diverse personalities of the climbers recruited for this attempt. In addition, to the authors first hand accounts and summaries of the various stages involved in organizing an expedition of this magnitude, we are given numerous journal entries from the other participants. I feel that this is an important dimension that is not always found in other books of this type. Typically, books on mountaineering are written by a single author even though numerous individuals have been involved in the climb. In this book, we are not limited to the author's opinion of how some of the other members were affected. Rather we can understand how they responded to the demands being placed on them in their own words. Another interesting aspect deals with how this diverse group of people come together to work as a team and how they are haunted by the memory of Joe Tasker and Peter Boardman. While no one in this group summited, personal bests for highest point attained were set by most of the participants. For those that climbed into the Death Zone (see Into Thin Air by Jon Krakauer and The Death Zone by Matt Dickinson), there was the realization that they were able to function at that level without supplemental oxygen. The book is very enjoyable and accessible. The commercialization of Everest has become a much debated topic since the tragic events of 1996 (again, see Into Thin Air by Jon Krakauer). This book shows us what Everest was like prior to the hand-held guided tours that seem to be so favorable today.

I FOUND THE ILLUSTRATIONS EASY TO FOLLOW IT GAVE YOU WAYS TO USE KNOTS, BREAKING STRENGHTS OF KNOTS AND SOME HISTORY OF SOME KNOTS IT IS WORTH BUYING FROM BEGINNER TO INTERMEDIATE.

An excellent, comprehensive and well written history of the first recreational explorations of the mountains. Nice photos. Will stimulate your own exploration of this area.

This book was extremely helpful to campers of all levels. I have been camping for quite some time and still learned a lot of tips on how to make your trip as enjoyable and environmentaly friendly as possible. Anyone considering a day hike or longer should read this first.

This was an excellent book! I highly reccomend it to anyone! The plot was pretty good, and the characters were well developed. You could really relate to the main character. The only downfall I think for some people was that not many people are interested in the subject matter, which is history and archeaology (sp?). It was, however, very interesting and enjoyable. If you haven't read this book yet, I suggest that you do!

Not only does the size of the book lend itself to being on the trail (easily stuffs into a camelpack or daypack), but it does a good job of explaining some basic repairs or problems you may encounter during a ride. Such things covered include: brake pads rubbing against the rim, unable to unclip from your pedal, a jammed chain, loose hub, or simply not having tire levers. A description is given of the problem, how to diagnose the problem, and what steps you can take to repair it yourself (or at least get back to the trialhead).

This book also provides diagrams, labeling components. This is beneficial to new riders who may not be certain of what is a cog, derailleur, or hub for instance.

While there may be other, more detailed repair books out there, this is a great book that you can easily take with you as you are first learning how to fix some common problems yourself. Definitely a good pocket guide.

This book is a bit of an oddity. Mt. Rainer is such a presence, both on the horizon and in the coffee table book market, in the Northwest, that it's surprising that the writing in this book, treating a very large but so far as I know otherwise untouched topic, the early ascents of the mountain, is so unpolished. The original text was published some forty years ago, though, and writing styles have changed somewhat. I found the first chapter especially difficult, where you have to read pretty closely to keep track of which apocryphal climb is being discussed. I would have liked a bit more authorial opinion on how much validity to give the accounts of the pre-Stevens climbs. Dee Molenauer gives credence to the account of the two climbers guided by Saluskin, and it would be nice to hear Haines' opinions.

The book is laid out pretty strictly chronologically, which makes it a little difficult to follow the different threads of narrative: the story of the establishment of the national park, and the stories of the formation and collapse of the various climbing clubs, appear and disappear through the book.

The book is heavily footnoted, and the footnotes are pretty strange. Sometimes they contain information that really belongs in the text, other times they are the bibliographic references that you'd expect, other times, they are just odd. In some places, Indian guides' words are printed in their native language, and the English translation is saved for the footnote. In another place, a passage involving an uncomfortable bivouac around Camp Misery is footnoted with a passage from The Bible.

There is a lot of quite interesting information in here. Over the course of the book, we see climbs evolving from two-week expeditions into the unknown to comfortable travel along well-maintained roads up to the trailhead, followed by a predictable (often guided) ascent to a summit increasingly littered with artifacts of previous ascents.

The story of the "first ascent" of Stevens and Van Trump is well known, of course, including the fact that they had to take refuge in a summit steam cave to survive the night. But I had no idea that overnighting on the summit was a normal part of the climb for decades after.

Another aspect that emerges is the glaring difference between the physical fitness of everyday people then and now. The folks who climb Mt. Rainier these days are athletes. RMI and the park climbing rangers emphasize the difficulty and the need to work long and hard to get into first-class shape before attempting the climb. But the climbers of a century ago were apparently just everyday folks. There was an early climb by a group of newspaper reporters, there were climbs by doctors, and soldiers, and there is no indication that people spent six months at the gym working on the stairmaster to prepare for their climb, they just hiked in there, slogging up much more altitude than today's climber with much heavier and poorer quality gear. Imagine a climber of today hauling firewood up to Camp Muir! You're left with the impression that in a world without elevators and cars and power lawnmowers, climbing a 14,411 foot mountain isn't a tremendous feat of athleticism, it's just a slightly eccentric pursuit for people with some free time and a taste for adventure.

I enjoyed the book immensely, on balance. If you're interested in climbing Mt. Rainier, or have already climbed it, this is a book that will greatly enrich your experience.

This book will interest anyone who has ever spent any time hiking, climbing, skiing, or just plain admiring our natural surroundings. The Mountaineers is one of the foremost outdoors groups and conservationist leaders in the Pacific Northwest, but you don't need to be a northwesterner or a conservationist to appreciate this book. Kjeldsen's style is energetic and he tells an interesting story, breaking chapters into themes such as the club's inception, climbing, conservation, etc. He also does a good job of not getting too technical in climbing or outdoor jargon. The book has left me with an uncontrollable desire to head on up the nearest mountain! The layout of the book is very attractive with tons of pictures, but I was surprised by the absence of maps. A few maps for those who aren't very familiar with Washington State (and probably for those who are!) showing landmarks, first ascents, mountains, and parks would have made this book even more of a delight. Otherwise, _The Mountaineers: A History_ is a fascinating, fun, light, and interesting read!

Another great addition to the Rusty Annabel series. Jeff Davis' work at bringing the stories together and painting a background for them just whets my appatite to read more by and about Russell.

This is the fourth edition of what is, as far as I know, the only climbing guide to the Olympic Mountains. Most of the content of the book seems to be barely revised. In particular, many of the routes in the book are very simple sketches -- things like "follow the rocky ridge for 0.5 miles, class 3". However, what do you expect from a book which covers pretty much every summit on the peninsula?

What's new in this edition is two sections which try to bridge the gap between traditional guidebooks (like Beckey) and the modern crag climbing style of guidebook. The first section is called "Alpine Rock Climbs" and gives more detail about some of the class five routes (including a few route topos). The second new section is "Crags And Sport Routes", which is pretty much self-explanitory.

As before, the book also has sections on High Alpine Traverses and Winter Climbing. Also as before, the main part of the guidebook is organized by geography, with the mountains separated into seven "groups", separated by major river drainages.

Note: like Beckey, this is not a hiking or camping guide. It is assumed that if you want information on the approach trails, you will get that elsewhere.