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Hey this is Dave Hahn calling from the summit of Mount Vinson, 16,067 feet above sea level, highest point in Antarctica. Our whole team is here! We got here at 3:45 local time and we're still here at about about 10 minutes after 4:00. It is just beautiful, windless, sunny, clouds, but just a few of them. So we're feeling very lucky. Beautiful day up here. We'll be in touch from High Camp. RMI Guide Dave Hahn Congratulations to Gary Johnson & Bob Sullivan who have now reached the summit of each of the highest mountains on all seven continents. An impressive accomplishment! And congratulations to Dave Hahn on his 35th summit of the Vinson Massif.

On The Map

Another wide ranging cold front is dropping across the U.S. this weekend, drawing down Arctic air and threatening to plunge temperatures below zero from coast to coast. Seriously cold wintertime temps aren’t abnormal for many athletes in more northern climes, and most grit their teeth, throw on a couple more layers, and continue with their training. Training goes on and we make the most of the weather, but treat these cold snaps with respect. Several studies, by the Norwegian and Swedish national athletic programs, as well as the US Olympic committee, have shown that strenuous endurance training in cold, dry conditions can lead to lung and bronchial irritation and inflammation, and that prolonged training in these conditions increases the incidence of asthma and bronchospasms. After the Nagano Winter Olympics in 1998, the US Olympic committee found that over 25% of the American team suffered from bronchospasms (uncontrollable spasms of the bronchi), and that of cross country skiers (athletes making long and exerted efforts in snowy and cold conditions), this respiratory problem was present in over half of the individuals. A similar study of elite level cross country skiers in Sweden and Norway showed repeatedly that over half of these athletes display asthma like symptoms and decreased lung capacity. While a few days of training during a cold snap won’t be enough to cause most athletes long term respiratory distress, it could be enough to cause some bronchial irritation and inflammation that could impact training for the next few weeks. This may be a good time to focus your training week on a few more gym and indoor workouts, and if you do train outside, consider training with a neck gaiter or buff over your mouth, to help warm the air as it enters your lungs. In chronically cold places, such as Alaska, athletes have developed special masks for training in cold conditions. Essentially stripped down respirators, they hollow metal grid of the mask retains the heat of each exhaled breath, helping to warm the next breath. Stay motivated, wear a few more layers, and take care. If an outdoor workout leaves your lungs and throat feeling raw and irritated, don’t push it. Do your next few sessions indoors, the irritation heal and subside. Good luck and happy training! Read more about the respiratory studies here. Questions? Comments? Share your thoughts here on the RMI Blog!

Hey guys, this is the Shishapangma team. We are just calling to check in. Everybody is well. We did feel the big earthquake the other day. Both our team up at Camp 1 and our team at BC are just fine. We are going to send another team up in the direction of Camp 1 later this afternoon. We are going to start our rotations a little higher up. All is well here. We are waiting for a weather window and just hanging out. So, we hope all is well back in Ashford. We’ll be giving you a shout when we have a little more to say. That is all from Tibet. RMI Guide Jake Beren

Fit to Climb: Week 9 Schedule

DAY	WORKOUT	TOTAL TIME	DIFFICULTY
1	Rainier Dozen / Easy Hiking ( 30 min)	42 min.	Medium
2	Rainier Dozen / High Intensity Stair Interval Training (60 min)	72 min.	Very Hard
3	Rainier Dozen / Rest	12 min.	Recovery
4	Strength Circuit Training x 4	54 min.	Hard
5	Rainier Dozen / Rest	12 min.	Recovery
6	Rainier Dozen / Cross Training	60 min.	Medium
7	Hike (5 hrs, 15lbs of pack weight)	300 min.	Medium
	Total	9 hrs 12 mins

BRIEFING This is a big week! This week’s hike will be the longest yet and will mark the end of the foundation phase of your training. After last week's fitness test, Day 6 reverts back to cross training this week. DESCRIPTIONS OF WORKOUTS Day 1: Rainier Dozen + Easy Hiking (30 Minutes) Today’s hike is a recovery workout and you can always substitute it with a different activity, such as running, biking or swimming. The important thing is to move at a moderate pace for 30 to 45 minutes. The pace can be conversational, and you do not need to be dripping with sweat at the end of the workout. Day 2: Rainier Dozen + Stair Interval Training (60 Minutes) After the Rainier Dozen, warm up for about 10 minutes, and then climb up and down a set of stairs, at a consistent pace, for about 40 to 50 minutes. Cool down with some stretching. You don’t need to carry a pack on your stair interval training, the focus in this workout is on speed and intensity. Day 3: Rainier Dozen / Rest Begin your day with the Rainier Dozen. Feel free to take another 30 to 60 minutes of light exercise if you feel like it (a brisk walk is a great option). If you feel tired, today is a good opportunity be good to take a complete rest day instead. Listen to your body. Day 4: Strength Circuit Training x 4 Repeat the strength circuit training workout introduced in Week 3. After warming up, perform four sets of the following exercises: • Steam Engine • Push Up • Three Quarter Squat • Russian Twists • Lunge • Steam Engine Laying down • Mountain Climber • 8 Point Bodybuilder Spend 40 seconds performing the exercises, and take 20 seconds between exercises to rest and rotate. Take a full minute of rest between each set. Take a full minute of rest between each set. Take ten minutes to cool down by stretching after you’re done. Day 5: Rainier Dozen / Rest Begin your day with the Rainier Dozen. Feel free to take another 30 to 60 minutes of light exercise if you feel like it (a brisk walk is a great option). If you feel tired, today is a good opportunity be good to take a complete rest day instead. Listen to your body. Day 6: Rainier Dozen / Cross Training (1 Hour) Warm up with the Rainier Dozen and then spend an hour in some moderately vigorous activity as cross training (find out more about cross training here). Listen to your body, and have fun with it. Day 7: 5 Hour Hike Find a location to hike that is about 9 to 10 miles in distance and takes about 5 hours. Maintain the same weight for your pack as last week. If the weight of your pack has to increase a little bit to account for the additional time you’ll be on the trail, that’s ok too. SUMMARY How do you feel at this point of the program? Compare where you are now to week one; in what ways do you feel different as a result of the endurance, strength and skills that you’ve earned? You are on-track to being a strong member of your rope team. Individual focus, skill, coordination and a multitude of factors make up the basis of split-second judgements in the mountains but physical fitness is the foundation for your climb, and you’ve got it. With the foundation you’ve built over the past nine weeks, and with the seven weeks remaining, you’ll have what it takes to be a strong member of your climbing team. - John Colver Have a question? See the Fit To Climb FAQ for explanations of specific exercises and general pointers to help you through the Fit To Climb Program. John Colver is a longtime climber, former mountain guide, and certified personal trainer with the American Council of Exercise. Colver introduced outdoor fitness classes to athletic clubs throughout the greater Puget Sound region before creating his adventX brand. Currently, adventX leads training programs in Seattle and Colver presents clinics on outdoor fitness at companies such as Microsoft, Boeing, the American Lung Association, and REI. Colver lives in Seattle, and is working on his second book, Fit to Climb - a 16 week Mount Rainier Fitness Program.

The training required for mountaineering is difficult: the workouts are strenuous, committing, and time consuming. A major challenge many climbers face is balancing training with the realities of daily life. Time and terrain are both constraining: it is difficult to find the time to fit in all of the training and not easy access to miles of trails and thousands of vertical feet is difficult to find. The reality is that there is not one a single solution to these constraints. In order to fit in the training you need and head into the mountains prepared you have to adapt your training plan to fit with what works for you. To help we've put together a collection of ideas, suggestions, and tips that our guides and climbers have used over the years to help you get the most out of your training. Time There is no way around it: mountaineering training takes time. To get the most out of your training, use the time that you have well: • Have Purpose: Make each workout have a purpose (base, interval, strength, or balance training) and know what you need to do so that you can complete it. • Plan Ahead: Have your gym bag packed or your hiking clothes ready so that you can start right away. This will help you stay committed to fitting in your training. • Set A Routine: Whether it’s getting up early, using your lunch break, or skipping Happy Hour a few days a week, dedicate a time that you commit to training. • Get Creative: Perhaps you combine your training with other activities: try riding your bike to work to get in a workout while you commute or hop on the stationary bike with your book and spin while you read. • Break It Up: Need to fit in a 2.5 hr workout but don’t have the time? Try breaking it up into two 1.25 hr sessions instead. While building endurance requires consistent training, you’re better served by still getting in a couple of shorter sessions than cutting short or even skipping the longer session. • Commit: Join a hiking or running group, take part in a spin class, or hire a personal trainer. Being part of something bigger helps you motivate after a long day to get your workout in. • Plan The Weekends: The weekends are usually the best block of time to commit to training - especially the longer sessions. Pull out a calendar and mark the weekends you need to fit in your long hikes and climbs. If that means taking a trip to nearby mountains, make your lodging reservations ahead of time so that you’ll stick to your plan! Terrain Nothing beats training for climbing like climbing, but easy access to mountainous terrain isn’t available out of everyone’s backdoor. Even for climbers who live close to the mountains, there isn’t always the time to hop in the car, drive to the trailhead, complete the workout, and return again. Don’t let this be daunting, finding terrain alternatives is a creative endeavor: • Do Some Research: Ask around at the local gym or trails for suggestions on where others train. Websites like RootsRated.com and AllTrails.com may help you discover new trails or places to train. • Go Mechanical: Use a treadmill on an incline, a stair climber, or a stationary bike to get your workout in. Better yet, grab a road bike and incorporate cycling into your training. • Stairs: Find a long set of stairs in a nearby stadium or office building and make a few laps. Skip the elevator on the way down: you’ll want to get your legs ready for the downhill too! • Look For The Hills: No mountains around? Look for a small hill and make multiple laps of it. Training on inclines is good preparation, no matter how continuous they are. • Think Outside of the Box: Don’t have a great 10 mile hike nearby? Can you link up a few shorter walking, hiking, and biking trails instead? Constantly looking for new terrain alternatives is a great way to stay motivated too! • Don’t Be Limited: The goal is to get yourself ready for climbing, no matter what it takes. A recent Vinson climber told us about how he put his pack on and made laps of the stairs in his house for an hour a few times a week just to get some vertical in! The Little Things Given all of the hurdles faced with training for mountaineering, take advantage of little things that you can do to help fit in some training: • Take The Stairs: Climbing a few flights of stairs in itself won’t get you ready for the Himalaya or the Alaska Range, but it certainly won’t hurt! So skip the elevator or the escalator and hit the stairs! • Go Short & Go Hard: Don’t have time for a long workout? Still try and be active, whether it’s a quick strength circuit or an interval session. You’ll benefit from the exertion, even if it’s not the exact workout you had in mind. • Mix It Up: Don’t limit yourself to just the gym or the same running loop day after day. Whether it’s finding a new trail or joining up with a group of other climbers or people training for a race, build some diversity into your training. It will help you keep motivated and inspired! Did we miss something? Leave a comment and share your suggestions and tips on how to manage the constraints of terrain and time in mountaineering training!

After four days of living it up at basecamp, we packed up our gear and moved up hill to Camp 1 at 16,400 feet. We were lucky enough to have clear skies and calm winds the whole way to camp as we meandered through the glacial moraine above basecamp. Shortly after arriving at Camp 1, the weather turned, the temperature dropped, and snow began to fall. After a very dry winter in the Andes, Aconcagua is in desperate need of snowfall and we welcome the fluffy white precipitation as we hunker down in our tents for some rest before dinner. Tomorrow, we load up again and carry half of our food and gear to Camp 2 at 18,000 feet. The trail to higher camps gets easier from here, but the air gets thinner with every step we take uphill. Everyone is still doing well and we can’t wait to see what the upper mountain has in store.

RMI Guide Nick Scott

On The Map

RMI Guide Dave Hahn contacted Everest Base Camp from the South Summit. The team is doing well and the weather is great. They are enjoying watching the sunrise and have gotten some great photos. The team is taking a break at the South Summit which will allow climbers descending from the summit to get past. The weather is great, the team is strong, they have plenty of oxygen and a good pace so far. RMI Guide and Everest Base Camp Manager Mark Tucker

Hey, this is Dave Hahn calling down from High Camp (Camp 4) on Mt. Everest. We are just about at 8,000 meters. I hope you can hear me the winds are beating the stuffing out of our tent fabric right now. We got up here late morning today, we moved up pretty well from Camp 3, in about 4 ½ hours. Very crowded conditions on the Lhotse Face but the team was doing well and we cruised on up here. It was a beautiful day but as soon as we got into the South Col the wind was blowing. Our forecast has changed a little bit, it’s not looking like quite the great window of opportunity that we thought it would be. There are a number of teams going for the summit tonight. In fact, many of them are starting and it’s not even 8 pm yet. We may not be starting if the wind is still blowing. We are thinking we can wait it out and maybe get some better weather tomorrow. But we are ready to go if this wind drops and the crowded conditions aren’t too bad. Four team members, four Sherpa up here on the South Col and it’s exciting as always. We don’t know what’s going to happen but we are going to play our cards right. RMI Guide Dave Hahn

On The Map

This past autumn I left the surf and sand of Southern California to attempt my first 8,000-meter peak, solo, and without supplemental oxygen or Sherpa support. I don’t quite remember when the idea came about, but climbing a Himalayan giant is something I’ve dreamt of since an early age. This project always struck me as a rematch of sorts, as my first foray into mountaineering as a teen was a botched solo attempt on Mt. Whitney in January. That first climb put me through the ringer and I departed for this expedition fully expecting the same. With expeditions like this, the unknowns are bound to be many; I heard differing opinions on just about everything. “Kathmandu is modern and you can buy all your supplies there,” one person would say, and then the next day I would hear the opposite. For the record, Kathmandu is definitely not modern - but all this can be fun. I found adventure in the 21st century and that seems to be rare. So I planned for what I could and insulated myself from what I couldn’t. It was exhilarating to know that I had no concept of everything I’d face. Near midnight on the 1st of September, I hit the tarmac of Kathmandu International Airport. The city of Kathmandu sits within a large valley at the foot of the Himalaya. Its streets are crowded and its buildings somewhat dilapidated, but the people are kind and the food is fantastic. Surely much has changed since the first westerners arrived, but there is still a sense of lore about the place. Hindu temples, large and small, are strewn about, and filled with worshipers while Buddhist monks’ roam the streets. The entirety of this scene is cast against the gear shops and bustle of everyday city life in a place steeped in climbing history. On September 10th I arrived at Chinese Base Camp, the “end of the road”. Over the previous week I’d driven through the alpine rainforests of Nepal and into the moonscape of the Tibetan Plateau. At the Tibetan border it is necessary to leave your Nepali ride and walk across the “Friendship Bridge” flanked on either side by the Nepalese and Chinese military. Once across, I met my Chinese Liaison and Tibetan driver. We quickly departed and speedily wove through the streets of Zhangmu, a border town perpetually stuck in a dense fog of clouds as they collide with the rising Tibetan Plateau. At Chinese Base Camp (BC, 16,300') I still was 2,400’ vertical feet and an unknown distance from Advanced Base Camp (ABC). I spent 3 days at BC waiting for yaks (pack animals that would move my supplies to ABC). While waiting, I developed a terribly bothersome head cold; unfortunately this was not the only time I got sick during this expedition. Days later and sick as a dog, I trekked the last distance into ABC, low visibility, snowing hard with a frigid wind in my face. We erected ABC (18,700') and soon I fell into the rhythm of establishing higher camps mixed with days of leisure. Everything seemed to slowly come together, as I prepared my body and my supplies for a possible summit window in the beginning of October. I think what kept me most sane during the expedition was my focus on the immediate. An undertaking such as this can be daunting if you try to grasp the sum of the next 20-day span, including the challenges yet to be overcome. So I’d only spool out as much time as was immediately necessary in my mind, and kept my thoughts off the many days ahead of me to reach the summit. Throughout the climbing period of the expedition I kept a brisk pace between camps, taking care not to push myself so hard that I couldn’t construct camp and take care of myself adequately afterwards. It’s a fine line up there; it’s far too easy to push yourself past the limit. I saw this countless times with other climbers but they had the safety net of Sherpas, guides, and teammates to assist them when they took on too much. I had no such safeguard and this was something I had to always take into account. I wouldn’t want to put a negative connotation on climbing solo though, because it was gratifying in its simplicity. On September 30th I pulled into Camp 3 at 24,500’. I recall constructing camp atop a small ridge of snow perched beneath the notorious Yellow Band. Here I definitely felt the altitude. Beneath me two Sherpa friends were digging in a platform for their team’s arrival. I’d look over at them as I was catching my breath and they’d be doing the same, smiling and laughing with each other at the ridiculousness of it all. Climbing without supplemental oxygen and solo (or as solo as it gets on Cho Oyu) has dangers that are heightened, namely the two forms of edema: HAPE and HACE. These affect the lungs and/or brain and are deadly if they persist without descending to lower altitudes. These conditions mainly strike during the night as your breathing naturally decreases. Being on your own when this happens can be mortally dangerous. I took measures to lower my risk by staying hydrated, well feed, comfortable, stress free, and I always kept a wary eye on my breathing and short term memory. The year prior I’d seen firsthand the grim realities of high altitude mountaineering on Argentina’s Aconcagua, after a rescue of another team turned tragic. Cerro Aconcagua was my previous high point at 22,841’. Everything beyond was unknown and I was well above that now and pushing higher. In hindsight, perhaps maybe I should have been more nervous at these altitudes, but I suppose I never felt threatened by them. As was the case in all my previous expeditions, the altitude only seemed to leave me breathless and nothing worse, not even a headache. And so I hydrated, ate and went to bed excited for my summit attempt only hours away. Summit Day I awoke at 12 midnight; outside I could hear guides addressing their climbers, the hiss of oxygen bottles as the regulators were spun on and the crunch of crampons engaging the firm snow as the first teams departed. Climbers’ torches faintly lighted my tent as they passed and the walls were lined with ice that rained down with the slightest nudge. I gave myself a once over, everything felt good and I was ready. I roused and started my stove, opened a few vents to ensure proper ventilation and stuck my head out the top of the tent. I had spoken to the leaders of the other expeditions and they were leaving quite early, at 12 midnight which meant they had woken up hours earlier. My plan was to leave as late as 2 am for two reasons: firstly I wanted to meet sunrise sooner as I would be running colder without O’s (oxygen), and secondly to give the other teams a large enough head start to ensure I could keep warm by continually climbing. But this night would be hapless from the moment I spilled my hot water all over the tent. As the other teams passed, and in a moment of carelessness, I fumbled a liter of water in my tent. Luckily, everything required for the summit push was outside in my pack. But with the threat of getting my boots or down suit wet I decided to depart for the summit immediately. The time was 1 am, an hour earlier than I had planned, and as soon as I left my tent I saw a traffic jam forming at the Yellow Band – a formation of rock above Camp 3. Hoping that their supplemental oxygen would see them through with some speed I continued on, but as I ascended it became apparent that they would not climb as hastily as I had hoped. As I sat in line below this technical rock step my extremities lost feeling. Swinging them in circles - something we call “windmills”, easily reinvigorated my hands. But climbing through the chilly night, I wasn’t able to completely regain feeling in my toes, this was a constant concern. However, I had not lost the ability to wiggle them as I took each step so I continued climbing into the night. After the Yellow Band, I threaded my way through a steeper section comprised of rock and snow, unclipping from the fixed lines and passing other teams as often as I was able too. The process of passing other teams at that altitude is quite tiring, as I had to abandon my efficient rhythm for a faster pace outside of the beaten in route, at times breaking into the snow up to my knees. Luckily I only had to do this 3 or 4 times as the majority of the climbers were moving faster than I was, with their bottled oxygen giving them more stamina. I recall one moment at 25,800' when I became exceedingly nauseous. But it quickly passed and I continued on. This was the only moment I felt the altitude affect me. At Camp 3, when I left, it was warm and still with high clouds touching the summit, but now, at 26,000', a light wind had picked up and the last of the high clouds were blowing over me. My suit was covered in ice and I had to stop periodically to rewarm my face by burying it in the cowl of my hood. As I reached striking distance of the summit (or so I thought) the horizon became faintly lit. And I encouraged by what it signified! As I came over the top onto the summit plateau I saw a high point off to my left, but Liz Hawley, an elderly woman who keeps the records of the Himalaya, warned me against this. I met Liz in Kathmandu, and discussed my plan for the expedition. She instructed me, “When you enter the plateau you’ll see a high point off to your left that seems to be the obvious summit, but go forward and slightly to your right and continue until you see Everest. This will be the true summit.” I recalled her words and continued on straight. Those last 45 minutes plodding along at 26,900' for what seemed an eternity, a quarter of a mile, the summit not even visible (or so I thought) was the hardest for me. I had nothing to hold onto. The plateau seemed to stretch beyond the visible horizon. Despair mounted at the thought of having to start grid searching for the damnable thing. I scanned the plateau again. It was then that I noticed a single string of prayer flags off in the distance to my right; on a mound no higher than 3 feet from the point I was standing. It was the summit, maybe one of the least climactic summits I’ve experienced, but I was deeply relieved when I got there and found myself standing at the summit of Cho Oyu! Alex Barber on the summit of Cho Oyu I was on top for about 15 minutes. Most of the time seated on my pack eating peanut M&Ms and washing them down with warm Tang from my thermos. I made a speedy descent to Camp 3, quickly packed and made the entire descent to ABC, arriving soon after dusk. Dawa, one of my cooks waited outside of ABC for me with hot tea and a huge smile, after a celebratory embrace we descended the last 15 minutes together into ABC. I felt relieved to be finished. The day was October 1st, I had summited at 8:20 am that morning Nepali time. You know, I’ve been asked what it felt like for everything to culminate and be on top. That feeling of accomplishment or exhilaration - what was it like? But I think what draws me isn’t that singular moment at the top or any feeling of exhilaration from being there. Instead it’s the quieter and constant sense of contentment that comes from the simplicity of mountaineering, the journey along the way and being surrounded by extraordinary beauty that challenges you to conquer – not the mountain – but yourself. For me the journey is the destination. Alex Barber is a mountain guide for RMI Expeditions and splits his time between the beaches of Southern California and mountains around the world. Alex will be guiding an Expedition Skills Seminar – Winter in January before returning to the Himalaya this spring to attempt Lohtse and Shishapangma. Read more about his climb and follow the upcoming adventures on www.alexanderbarber.com.

This morning at 8:45am everyone on the team was standing on the highest point in Mexico! We didn’t have a chance to hang out long on top because of strong winds that were bitter cold at 18,491ft. But we were able to enjoy the view before the clouds rolled in and followed us down the mountain. 

It was a difficult climb due to the strong winds, but everyone did a great job pushing through to the summit! 

We are back down in the town of Tlachichuca where we will celebrate our final night together before we fly home tomorrow. 

RMI Guide Grayson Swingle