Upper Peninsula, Mich.: Faster, stronger, better
Climbers brave wall of ice in test of wills at Michigan festival
I've just hiked 45 minutes through freezing farmland in Michigan's Upper Peninsula, hauling heavy bags of gear. Snow sticks to my eyelashes.
I stand before a frozen waterfall nestled deep in Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, and the cold disappears. My breath quickens. Adrenaline fills my limbs. I've come to climb this foreboding wall of silent, thick ice.
(Felicia Schneiderhan for the Sun-Times)
There are ice-covered grain silos out in Cedar Falls, Iowa, and rumors of climbable ice as close as Starved Rock State Park in Utica, Ill., but the sweetest Midwest ice climbing surrounds Lake Superior.
Where to go: Visit Climbingcentral.com for information on climbs and conditions on rock and ice climbing all over the midwest and central Canada. Necessary gear -- crampons, boots, pick axes, harness and helmet -- can be rented at most REI stores.
Michigan Ice Fest: the annual event is held the first weekend in February in Munising, Mich. Visit Downwindsports.com for information on next year's festival.
Groups: To learn about Chicago Mountaineering Club events and membership, visit Cmcwebsite.org. Midwest Ice Climbers and the "Ice Pit" may be found at Theicepit.org.
I faced this wall for the first time three years ago at the Michigan Ice Fest, an annual ice climbing festival in Munising, Mich., where hundreds of new and experienced climbers come together to hack their way up frozen waterfalls surrounding Lake Superior.
I'd enrolled in an introductory class for women aptly titled, "Chicks With Picks." It was led by world-renowned climbers Sue Nott and Zoe Hart. They taught us how to strap on crampons and swing pick axes.
When this newbie picked up her ax and put on crampons -- silver claws attached to boot bottoms to help you kick into the ice -- I felt like I could do anything.
That quickly faded as I shimmied into the harness and secured myself to the top rope dangling from the top of the waterfall. The other end of the rope was attached to the harness of a climber on the ground. My "belayer," as they're called, has a tight hold on the line to stop mefrom falling.
"Belay on?" I called back to the complete stranger, holding my life in her hopefully not frostbitten hands.
"On belay," she responded, letting me know I was secure.
My first ascent -- if that's what you want to call it -- was all of three feet. I swung too much, completely ignoring instructions to use the larger muscles in my back and legs instead of relying on my weaker upper body to hoist myself up.
The second time I climbed 10 feet, trusting the crampons to hold my weight on the front two claws thrust in the ice as I swung back and tried for a tight, strong "bomber" hold in the ice.
My third and final attempt that day I chose the easiest route, which had been climbed enough times that there were good holes in the ice so I didn't have to swing so hard.
I listened to instructor Sue Nott behind me, coaching me on, "Now swing with your right ax, now step with you right foot -- not so high!-- good job!"
When I finally reached the top, Nott cheered like mad, and the rest of the chicks followed her lead. For the second time that day, I felt like I could do anything.
I was at the top of a frozen waterfall, 30 feet above ground. I had just conquered a wall of unforgiving ice, and I knew I'd be back to do it again. And I have.
I think about this cold cascade during the summer, when I'm running along the lakeshore and swimming at Ohio Street beach. It motivates me to build my strength so I can climb it faster, stronger, better than the year before.
If you're new to the sport, the best way to try it is to go to an ice festival or join an organized group that can set you up with equipment.
The Michigan Ice Fest celebrated its 25th anniversary this year with more than 400 climbers flocking to the town of Munising, a mecca for winter sports in the Upper Peninsula, where excellent cross-country skiing and snowmobiling complement more than 100 climbable waterfalls.
Ice festivals are great for beginners since the cost of admission -- $25 for the Michigan Ice Fest -- includes use of the necessary and pricey gear: crampons, boots, pick axes and harness. (Helmets and eye protection are a must for falling ice, and you usually can borrow them at the climbing site.)
Event sponsors often let you try out clothing like snow pants, gloves and belay jackets. Classes are available for an extra fee, or you can try your luck at the "Curtains," a popular site where dozens of climbers can help a newcomer.
Colleen Sarna of Chicago took her first try at the Michigan Ice Fest this February. Like so many others, she fell in love with the sport.
"For one thing, I don't get to see frozen waterfalls every day," Sarna said. "And the fact that I'm climbing frozen water blows my mind."
The camaraderie at the climb is part of the appeal, too.
"Watching folks who are much more practiced and graceful is amazing," she said, "and people are so friendly and supportive."
Joining a club is another great way to get started.
Ron Briley of north suburban Grayslake belongs to the Chicago Mountaineering Club, a 68-year-old organization that includes ice-climbing events in its yearlong calendar of mountaineering activities.
To find ice-climbing opportunities close to home, Briley recently joined Midwest Ice Climbers, a nonprofit group that operates the "Ice Pit" in a quarry in De Pere, Wis. Members or their guests can climb 100-foot vertical walls most weekends from December through March.
The biggest danger of ice climbing on a top rope -- besides falling ice, pick axes that slip and a few bruises -- is the unexpected ecstasy that comes from scaling the top. It's enough to send anyone practicing pushups and pullups for next year's bomber holds and radical climbs.
Felicia Schneiderhan is aChicago-based free-lancer writer.