The Zephyr Climbs Burly Aid Route in Zion: A Profile of Kristoffer Wickstrom

The Zephyr is a gentle, mild breeze or any of various things of fine, light quality. For Kristoffer (aka Kris) Wickstrom, big wall aid soloist, the nickname more than fits both his climbing style and personality. He breezes up A4+ as easily as he glides into a conversation with most anyone he meets. At least he gave me that impression. The first time I met him, he walked confidently up to the crag at the base of the Zion classic Touchstone, where John, Marc, and I climbed one November afternoon.

“That crack looks super flaring, but really cool! How hard is it? It looks like it’s got perfect hands…” he exclaimed by way of introduction. A few minutes later, following a rapid-fire series of comments, I discovered that this enthusiastic young man works for the Navy as an avionics technician on H60 Sierra Helicopters. Rather than go home to the family he’s close to, he opted to spend his Thanksgiving vacation alone, climbing one of his dream climbs, Latitudes, an A4+ that slashes diagonally across the steep and dangerous Streaked Wall (all three routes are A4 and harder). Despite an 80-foot whipper and more than a week of lugging huge loads to the base of and off the top of the wall, he was all smiles.

“I haven’t talked to anyone in ten days!” he explained boisterously. “That’s why I’m so excited to see people right now!” I couldn’t help returning his huge grin. Later that night he stopped by our camp, a bag full of Old English in hand, and shared more of his short life with us.

At 21-years-old, the blonde Wickstrom is willowy, weighing significantly less than the giant hall bags he regularly lugs to and up big walls around California and Utah. He’s unsure how many aid routes he’s ascended, but ever since he started making homemade Rurps in his dad’s garage four years ago, he’s “nailed everything he can find.” His proudest ascents are his eight-day solo ascent of South Seas (A4 5.8) on El Capitan, Latitudes, and his solo of Red Rock's Aolean Wall (A4+), a wall he didn’t top out on, but on which he nearly died when a powerful storm socked him in, pounded him with avalanches, and soaked him to the bone, giving him hypothermia.

“I came back with a whole different belief in life,” he says of that epic. “I felt renewed. I actually look for that same experience now when I aid climb.” I asked him to explain why he loves aid climbing so much. Check out the accompanying video to find out more.

VIDEO: Kristoffer Wickstrom on why he loves soloing.

Kristoffer's gnarly wall fingers.

Looking down at one of the pitches Kris just led.

The Streaked Wall

Colin Haley Whups Batman's Ass

Colin Haley whups Batman's Ass

No more climbing! (for now)

Because of the return of my shoulder injury I won't be climbing for a few months. However, I'm OK with it. I've just spent nine blissful weeks climbing around the country. Life is good. I'm going to start running and working out more at the gym. My fantastic trainer, Paul (who is also my physical therapist from the Boulder Center for Sports Medicine), and I are working together on a plan of attack to strengthen my fingers, my shoulders, and other muscles that will help me become a better climber (with fewer injuries) in the long run. I'm actually excited about training in the gym and running for a few months. Yesterday I ran 4.4 miles in the Fisher Towers, about 25 minutes outside of Moab. I ran and walked (down hill) over slick, rocky and sandy terrain for a couple hours, around the edges of these giant brown mud towers that rise more than 1,000 feet into the sky. What fantastic scenery for a run!

Hopefully when I get back out into the mountains for climbing (maybe in El Potrero in February for sport climbing, Indian Creek in March, and then the Sierras in the spring) I'll be stronger than ever. What a fun life. Of course, I have a job interview on Wednesday night for a neat position as a reporter. If that pans out, who knows what I'll be doing...

Zion Videos

Marc in The Mines of Mordor, Tricks of the Trade, Issac, Zion, Utah, and also at the end of the day, after bailing off of the Black Tower.

Blogger Slacker

The formation Issac in Zion.

I've slacked on the blogging lately. I hurt my shoulder after trying to climb Tricks of the Trade with my friend, Marc. There will be no climbing for me for four or five weeks, except for some occasional moderate climbing. I'll be spending this time trying to strengthen my shoulder and other weak parts of my body.

I've also got a load of work to do (surprising). If some of the writing projects I'm working on now pan out I'll likely have a good amount of work to do after my unemployment runs out. Wish me luck!

Here are some more Tricks photos.
Marc leading the 5.7 chimney at the end of the Minds Of Mordor pitches on Tricks. This particular slot chimney wasn't in the topo, so we thought we were either off route or that this was one of the 5.10 pitches. It turned out to not be so hard, but was certainly intimidating!

Me standing at the entrance to a cave that we found in the middle of the lower section of the wall. In fact, this cave wasn't abnormal. The second and third pitches were in a 3 to 12-foot wide gash in the sandstone that was filled with giant sandy boulders wedged into the chimney.

Looking up into the Mines of Mordor.

Looking out through a hole inside of the cave.

John leading a 10a splitter hand crack the day before Marc and I tried Tricks.

Desert Spanking

Yesterday I had the most humbling experience of my trip on Tricks of the Trade, a Grade VI here in Zion that my Estes Park buddy, Marc, and attempted to climb (we planned on doing it in a day). After climbing numerous long routes in Yosemite and Red Rocks I figured a 19-pitch route in the desert was well within my reach, especially since it was "only" 5.10+. Haha. I was wrong. I got spanked on the first offwidth pitches and the spanking lasted until I melted down on another offwidth on pitch 6. I'm not sure what my meltdown resulted from--exhaustion, the copious amounts of sand and loose rock that filled the chimneys we climbed, burn out, or maybe I'm just a wuss. Regardless it was a smackdown. A good humbling experience is always good for me though. Brings me down a notch. We drowned our sorrows later at Oscars over fantastic bacon burgers and 3.2 Polygamy Porter. All in all it wasn't a horrible day--just not one of our better climbing days. I think I'm going to move to Bishop to sit in hot springs and go bouldering all winter.

What's going on?

I haven't written in a while. Been to Mexico and back, and then I spent some time at paradise Forks, Arizona. What a fantastic climbing area! John and I had a great time climbing splitter cracks in a high elevation desert/pine forest environment, in a narrow basalt gorge. We didn't see another soul for three days. Now we're in Zion National Park. I'm meeting one of my buddies from Estes Park tonight. Tomorrow, if the weather is good, we will get on a sweet route called MonkeyFingers--another route I've wanted to do for about a decade. Weehoo!

I'm going to add another feature to my blog next week. I'll be profiling climbers I know and/or climbers I come across on my travels. I figured it would eventually get boring just writing about myself. And considering I have so many wacky friends and I'm an unemployed writer, I might as well keep practicing my skills by doing fun, irreverent profiles on my blog. My first victim, I mean subject, will be Kelly Cordes, alpinist, writer, ladies' man...

If anyone has suggestions for profiles, feel free to send them my way!

Article in Rocky Mountain Sports

To read a very short article written about me, Heidi, and Girls Education International, go to www.RockyMountainSports.com.

Lee Climbing the Second to Last Pitch of Astroman

Lee Cossey climbing the second to last pitch of Astroman.

Snorkeling in the Gulf of Cali

Gulf of California

The wind blew across the water’s surface as I stepped with my giant flippers into the 60-degree water of the Gulf of California. Goosebumps quickly covered my arms, and chills tickled my ears and made my nose drip like my leaky hose back home. I pulled my mask down over my face, dunked my head under water, and tried breathing through the snorkeling tube. Instead I managed to suck the nose piece hard into my face and momentarily froze, breathless.

“Take deep breaths, silly,” I reminded myself. “Don’t use your nose.”

Though I love swimming, I haven’t spent much time in water in the past dozen or so years. Climbing took my life over to such a huge degree that 90% of my vacations have been to mountainous regions of the world. Beaches entice me for their beauty, warmth, and soft sand, but generally I wonder what the heck I’m going to do besides sit on the sand and drink (two good options, but being the hyper person I am, not things I can do for more than a few days).

“So what do we do at the beach anyway?” I asked John the other day over margaritas and manta ray tacos. We drove to San Carlos, on the mainland Mexico a few days ago, planning to hang out with one of my mom’s best friends before going to Baja to learn to surf. Unfortunately, we discovered that it costs $250 to take a car on the ferry to Baja, so there will be no surfing for us.

John, having grown up by the beaches of Long Island, NY, had some ideas: swimming, snorkeling, beach volleyball. With few people on the beach (it’s the off season), volleyball was out, so we opted for the swim/snorkel option. The water didn’t seem that cold when we stuck our feet in a few days before.

Thus, there I stood, stumbling over rocks in the shallows while trying to figure out how to breath out of a rubber tube. John dove in and swam around as I stood wondering how I could fearlessly climb 1,000 feet off the ground, but be afraid of submerging my head under water. I felt like my head was wrapped in plastic wrap.

“Is it cold?” I asked again, as John swam in circles around me.

“No, it’s great!” He exclaimed.

Finally I began swimming, and after a few minutes of fogging up my goggles and dipping my head too far to the side and inhaling and coughing up copious amounts of salt water, I figured out the whole breathing thing again and began to enjoy myself. Though the water wasn’t totally clear (according to John), the world below me moved to a rhythm I had never felt before. Thousands of silver fish danced in unison, turning in seemingly random directions, but all together. Small, bright cobalt blue fish darted under rock crevasses as I swam by; light blue fish as big as a farmer’s hand swam in threes and fours, waving about like sails; and long, skinny fish like pieces of string stared at me with eyes on top of their florescent green heads. I saw sting rays, sea urchins, and clams; a couple loons whizzed by under water, chasing minnows, and when I popped up on the surface, numerous black and light-colored pelicans splashed in the water around me, dive-bombing fish and then sucking them down their gullets with a few nods of their heads.

We swam and watched the wildlife until our lips were blue and our legs burned. As I lurched out of the water, shivering and waddling like a duck (because my legs were so cold and unused to swimming with flippers), I couldn’t contain the wide grin on my face.

“That was awesome!” I exclaimed to an equally pleased John.

As we warmed ourselves up and relaxed, lying on the sand, I reevaluated my impression of the beach. I’m not certain I could ever be a beach bunny, but snorkeling suited me just fine. Let’s see how I feel tomorrow after trying kite surfing!

More Videos

Here are more videos:
1. Me making French toast at the SAR site, Camp IV

Hi from Mexico

I'm visiting the mother (Catherine Griscom) of some children I grew up with. She and her husband, Dave, retired to San Carlos, Mexico, a couple years ago. Although I wouldn't necessarily want to live here, it's a gorgeous place on the Gulf of California with white sand beaches and clear blue waters. Plus, Catherine and Dave are super hosts. They've fed us delicious dinners and breakfasts and copious amounts of wine. It's been quite fun catching up on all the news of my childhood friends as well.

John and I spent the afternoon exploring San Carlos, swimming in the ocean, and hanging out drinking Tecates in the hot tub of the San Carlos Hotel (we poached the tub). A lovely day all around. Tomorrow we're going snorkeling all day.

Random Videos

OK, I'm trying again with the video. Let's see what loads up...
The first is a video of Toby Grohne on the West Face of El Cap somewhere near the top of the climb.

Long time no write

Well, I've left Red Rocks. I can't climb right now. One of my fingers is tweaked, my shoulders both hurt, and my ankles are incredibly sore. I should have taken a week off after Yosemite, but being the hammerhead that I am I thought if I just kept climbing I'd overcome my injuries. Ha. I'm headed to Baja, Mexico, now to try my luck surfing and work on a bunch of different projects including a book review, a couple article queries, and working on some grant applications for Girls Education International, researching potential donors/grants, and writing the text for the brochure for Girls Education International. (More information on Girls Education International can be found at the Girls Ed website)

Here are some more photos of Levitation 29. This is John Calderera leading the last 11b pitch.








John Helm following the last pitch of Levitation 29.

Toby Dunn at a belay.

Levitation 29

Despite being cranky, super tired, and totally worked physically (i.e. various parts of my body hurt like hell--toes, shoulders, fingers, ankles, etc...) I mustered enough energy to get on Levitation 29 with Toby, with John and Little John following behind us. I thought the route was easier than anything I'd done in Yosemite. The style of climbing is so different--face, patinas, and just a few cracks here and there. Plus, everything's really well bolted. We had a marvelous day. I'm planning on climbing for four or five more days and then heading off to Mexico to rest my body for a week on the beach. Here are some photos of me leading pitch 6, 5.10, and following the crux pitch (5), 5.11c, on Levitation 29.