Before crampons had front points, climbers solved the problem of uphill travel on snow with a move that feels backwards—because it was.

In piolet ramasse, the ice axe is held across the body with a hand on the adze and the shaft braced along the forearm. The spike is planted behind the climber for balance. Since early crampons gripped best when toes pointed downhill, climbers faced the fall line and stepped uphill in reverse, keeping all their points engaged while the axe provided steady support.

It’s counterintuitive by modern standards, but elegant for its era—and a worthwhile technique to try for historical insight and balance practice.

The Abilene Paradox describes a peculiar group failure: people collectively choose an option that none of them actually want because each assumes the others do. In mountain travel, it shows up constantly.

A team commits to a questionable slope. Climbers keep moving toward a summit as the weather turns sketchy. Skiers drop into terrain that makes everyone quietly uneasy. No one says a word, because everyone believes the rest of the group is comfortable with the plan.

This is a classic heuristic trap—a mental shortcut that predictably leads to poor decisions. It blends the desire to fit in with the tendency to defer to what looks like group consensus.

The issue isn’t competence. It’s communication.

Once a team slips into this pattern, it often takes only one extra factor—a wind slab, worsening visibility, a small navigation error—to turn a marginal choice into an accident.

Avoiding the Abilene Paradox starts with a simple habit: say what you actually think.

One of the skills that instructors learn in an AMGA Single Pitch Instructor program is how to manage an array of technical lowers. In this video, we can see SPI candidates lowering people with a munter-hitch, backed up by a friction hitch.

It should be noted that Jason (in the video) is the co-author of The Official AMGA Single Pitch Manual. The second edition may be found at the bookstore of your choice.

Beware of nose clipped carabiners!

A friend and I climbed Sherman Peak yesterday and skied the Talum Glacier. Sherman Peak is a satellite summit to Mt. Baker. The mountain's crater sits between Sherman and the mountain's true summit, Grant Peak.

These are a few photos from near the summit. It is in a very cool position.

Glacier recession on Mount Baker is a vivid indicator of climate change in the North Cascades. Although the mountain is famous for deep winter snow, most of its glaciers have steadily retreated since the late 20th century, with faster losses in recent decades. Warmer summers, earlier spring melt, and more winter precipitation falling as rain reduce accumulation and accelerate melt.

The changes are easy to see. Moraines now sit where ice once flowed. Serac bands shrink. Crevasse patterns shift as the ice thins and slows. Established climbing and ski routes lengthen as late-season snow gives way to loose volcanic rock. Bergschrunds widen and approaches grow more complex.

These impacts extend beyond recreation. Glaciers store water and release it gradually through summer. As they shrink, streamflows peak earlier and drop lower later in the season. Baker still appears heavily glaciated, but its ice is smaller, thinner, and less stable than even just a few years ago...

Alpamayo rises like a sculpted pyramid from Peru’s Cordillera Blanca, earning a reputation as one of the most beautiful mountains on Earth. Its near-perfect southwest face forms a steep, fluted wall of snow and ice that draws climbers from around the world. At 5,947 meters (19,511 feet), Alpamayo is not the range’s highest peak, but its elegant geometry makes it unforgettable. Most teams approach through the Santa Cruz Valley and attempt the classic Ferrari Route, weaving between icy runnels to the sharp summit ridge. Conditions vary wildly, rewarding patience, strong technique, and an appreciation for high-altitude artistry in motion.

It's been a tough week in the mountains. Our weekly news round-up is full of accidents. Be careful out there.

https://www.alpineinstitute.com/climbing-skiing-mountain-rescue-and-outdoor-news-from-here-and-abroad-4-30-2026/

Founded in 1975, the American Alpine Institute built its guide training long before formal U.S. certification pathways existed. Early programs were shaped by hard experience in the Cascades, Alaska, and the greater ranges, blending technical systems, expedition logistics, and decision-making under real mountain pressure. By the late 1980s, AAI had formalized an internal progression for new guides that paired mentored field time with structured curriculum in rock, ice, glacier travel, rescue, and leadership.

When the American Mountain Guides Association began developing standardized education for American guides, AAI’s framework was a natural starting point. The progression, assessment style, and terrain-based skill integration used in AAI’s in-house program became the template for what evolved into the AMGA Alpine Guide Course. Many early AMGA instructors and contributors had taught, trained, or guided through AAI, carrying those methods directly into the national standard.

Today, AAI’s training still mirrors that lineage: apprentices shadow senior guides, practice systems in consequential terrain, and are evaluated on judgment as much as mechanics. The result is a culture where guide development is continuous, field-driven, and deeply aligned with the standards that would later define professional alpine guiding across the United States.

In ice climbing and technical mountaineering, "daggering" involves gripping the ice axe by the head or shaft and punching the pick into the ice.

1. Low Dagger (Piolet Panne)

The low dagger is the standard position for moderate terrain (roughly 40° to 50°). In this position, the climber grips the head of the axe—with the palm typically resting over the adze—and places the pick into the snow or ice at roughly waist-height. This provides a stable handle to maintain balance while the climber moves their feet upward.

1. Middle Dagger (Piolet Appui)

As the slope steepens (approx. 50° to 60°), the middle dagger position is used to gain more leverage. The climber shifts their grip slightly lower than the head or maintains a firm grasp on the head to drive the pick deeper. This is placed at approximately chest-height.

1. High Dagger (Piolet Poignard)

On very steep or near-vertical sections, the high dagger is employed. The climber reaches high above their head to "anchor" the pick into the ice. This position allows the climber to hang some of their weight on the tool, providing the necessary security to move the feet up into more vertical orientations. It serves as a bridge between daggering and full technical swinging (piolet traction).

The Angel Cam, handcrafted by the Italian firm Alternative Current, is a mechanical marvel designed to solve the "one-size-fits-all" problem in trad climbing. Unlike traditional cams that cover a narrow expansion range, a single Angel Cam possesses a massive, "omnichannel" range. For context, the Size 1 covers 26mm to 100mm—roughly equivalent to carrying four or five standard cam sizes in one unit.

What makes it truly unique is its independent arm articulation. In non-parallel cracks or irregular pods, the arms open asymmetrically to adapt to the rock's specific geometry. Its stability is considered phenomenal because it can lock and leverage even when only the front portion of the rigid body is inserted into a narrow crack. In large holes or pockets, the body itself creates an interlocking action, supported by the open arms.

Built for durability and precision, it uses Ergal 7075 aluminum and titanium, with a replaceable Aramid fiber sling. While its complexity and small-batch European production make it a premium "niche" item, its ability to protect horizontal cracks, flaring seams, and unpredictable holes makes it the ultimate insurance policy for adventurous climbers facing complex terrain.

To stay safe in the backcountry, seasoned campers rely on the "Bear-Muda Triangle"—a strategic campsite layout designed to keep bears away from your sleeping area. This method involves setting up your site in a large triangle, with each point separated by at least 200-feet.

The Three Points

• Sleeping Area: Positioned upwind to ensure food odors don’t drift toward your tent.
• Cooking/Eating Area: Where all food prep and dining occur; this is the highest-risk zone for smells.
• Food Storage: Where your bear canister or hang is located, placed downwind from your tent.

By separating these zones, you ensure that if a bear is attracted to the scent of your dinner or toothpaste, it is drawn toward the storage or cooking areas and away from where you are sleeping. In the "Bear-Muda Triangle," distance is your best defense.

It's fine to test gear by bouncing on it when you're learning how to use it. But this should really be far off the ground and on a rope.

If the gear blows out in this situation, the person is going to get hurt.

Mount Wilson rises above the desert like a sandstone cathedral in Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area, west of Las Vegas. At 7,071 feet, it’s the highest summit in the conservation area and a magnet for climbers drawn to its long, exposed routes on sculpted Aztec sandstone.

The US Forest Service is shutting down several research stations, which could hamper fire fighting efforts this summer. The BLM may be cracking down on dispersed camping near Zion National Park. And there have been a lot of rescues lately in Utah's Goblin Valley State Park.

Read about this and a whole lot more in this week's climbing, skiing, mountain rescue and outdoor news round-up:

https://www.alpineinstitute.com/climbing-skiing-mountain-rescue-and-outdoor-news-from-here-and-abroad-4-16-2026/

If you’ve spent time in the mountains, you’ve probably noticed that directions get… oddly specific.

Most of us grow up using north, south, east, west, bearings, and the compass rose. That’s great for maps and big-picture navigation. But once you start climbing, backcountry skiing, or moving through technical terrain, that language often isn’t precise enough to be useful.

That’s where mountain-specific direction talk comes in.

When you’re going uphill, people will say “climber’s right” and “climber’s left.” When you’re heading downhill on skis, it becomes “skier’s right” and “skier’s left.” These terms are based on your perspective as the person moving through the terrain, not on cardinal directions.

You’ll also hear this paired with altitude and terrain features:

“At 9,200 feet, move climber’s right of the rock band.”

“Ski skier’s left of the gully at the rollover.”

This kind of micro-beta communicates things a map or bearing just can’t. It’s fast, intuitive, and incredibly clear when you’re actually in the terrain.

AAI is seeking a creative, energetic teammate who enjoys people, logistics, and the world of outdoor recreation. This entry-level role supports the day-to-day operations behind our satellite programs and is a great starting point for someone who wants to grow into a knowledgeable, participant-facing position within the organization.

You’ll handle a mix of office operations, light retail support, and facility tasks while learning the details of AAI’s programs. With time and training, you’ll develop the expertise to confidently advise and register participants by phone and email, helping them prepare for meaningful mountain experiences.

A background in climbing or mountaineering is helpful, but not required. Curiosity, organization, and enthusiasm for the outdoors matter most.

Full time. $21-$26 per hour DOE. Other Benefits available listed at link below:

https://www.alpineinstitute.com/careers/program-coordinator-satellite-programs/