The Ouray Ice Festival

If you're familiar with ice, you know that The Ouray Ice Festival, January 7-10, in Ouray, Colo., is a celebration of climbing frozen waterfalls. The small mountain community has arguably the best ice climbing in the country because of the Ouray Ice Park - a mile-long section of the Uncompahgre Gorge, just steps from downtown, with more than 200 easily accessible climbs, most of them "farmed" via a gravity-fed pipeline. While traditional ice climbing generally involves long approaches and dangerous, frequently miserable conditions, ice climbing in Ouray is in a controlled environment. So much forethought has gone into safety that there are climbs set up near the gorge that are easily accessible for children and people with disabilities. Participants range from elite international climbers to college clubs to the plain curious who wouldn't know an ice screw from a screw driver (but have fun finding out the difference).
The setting is one of the reasons the Ouray Ice Festival is the biggest event of its type in North America. And this year, when The Ice Festival celebrates its 15th birthday, the celebration will be the best yet. Tucked into the mountainous bosom of the San Juans, Ouray is the epitome of a picturesque mountain village. But most mountain towns don't have world-class ice climbing parks or fantastically popular festivals that celebrate bashing sharp axe picks and crampons into frozen water, or dry-tooling on bare rock. Not only is it easy to reach the ice, viewing platforms line the top of the canyon. Standing on the rim, or on the bridge that spans the narrow gorge, affords a bird's eyes view of novices and experts alike, moving gracefully (or not-so-gracefully) up the slippery surfaces.
Admission to the festival is free; you can also ante up for one of the many top-notch clinics offered to climbers of all levels. Taught by world-class mountaineers like Conrad Anker, Steve House, Vince Anderson and Kitty Calhoun, classes run the gamut from advanced ice pillars and advanced mixed climbing to climbing photography, yoga, and self-rescue. It's a chance to swing tools with international climbing stars, demo gear from dozens of manufacturers, and learn ice and dry-tooling skills, protected by the safety of a sturdy top rope. Plus, the fun level is pretty high.
Despite the sometimes circus-type environment, the festival is a tribute to adventure. Fifty years ago, had someone fast-forwarded to the current Ouray Ice Festival, it would have been labeled science fiction. Climbing frozen waterfalls was impossible until the late '60s when equipment designs started a new sport. Ice axes became compact and manageable, their picks sharper and angled to penetrate frozen water more efficiently. Foot crampons gained blade-like points, so climbers could stab their feet straight into the ice and walk upward, like climbing a ladder. Today's equipment makes the sport not only possible but safe enough to enter the orbit of the weekend athlete (especially if you are top-roping in the Ouray Ice Park).
Todd Walton, long-time Festival attendee and account exec at Verde PR, says that year-after-year, the festival continues to amaze newcomers and old-timers alike. "Everybody in town, from the sheriff to the local innkeepers, is primed to make sure people have a great time," says Walton. Despite the consistent formula (a competition, slideshows, and big party) it's never boring - in fact, many participants make it a part of their annual winter pilgrimage. Eccentric masters of ice climb alongside university outing clubs. "There are guys who, a decade ago, came and slept in their cars," says Walton. "Now they are bringing their kids. It is such a community event."
Malcolm Daly has been to every festival held in Ouray, including the now-legendary pre-festival held in 1992. "Back then, the only place you could get a meal in town after dark was frozen Tombstone pizza at the Silver Dollar," says Daly. "Now you can get everything from wood-fired oven pizzas to lobster, champagne and white table cloths."
The Ouray Ice Festival began in January of 1996 by ice climbing pioneer Jeff Lowe - but a lot of work was done on the backend to make the Ice Park and Festival a reality. In the early days, a handful of adventurous ice climbers explored the frozen waterfalls around the tiny town. People knew about the gorge below the bridge, but the "drips" were from unintentional leaks in the pipes transporting water from the nearby power plant. Pictures of the ice in the pre-Park days show waterfalls with an eerie yellow glow. Now, the flows are crystal white, with beautiful blues and greens from clean water sources. And, climbers in the '90s were burdened with the access issues. The legality of climbing in the gorge was always in question, with climbers sneaking around and trying to be inconspicuous (which is difficult when you're wearing crampons and a helmet and carrying sharp axes.) Lowe's vision of an ice park where regular people could enjoy the sport changed the face of ice climbing in the U.S. and put Ouray on the map as a major ice climbing destination. By bringing in people from all over the world, the event has boosted Ouray's economy by the tune of several million dollars annually.
During the festival, Ouray and the ice park are a carnival scene, with top ropes hung everywhere for climbers and people mobbing the roads and restaurants. While there's plenty to do in town and at the ice park, there's also plenty of out-of-the way climbs to do at Sky Light, Red Mountain and near Silverton (see story, pg. 13). There's no doubt that the sport is growing in popularity, in part, due to the success of The Festival. Duane Raleigh, publisher of Rock & Ice, notes that the number of participants at the ice festival has swelled from a few hundred a decade ago to a few thousand. Raleigh credits the Ouray Ice Festival with spawning ice climbing festivals nationwide, in places like North Conway, N.H. to Cody, Wyo., Bozeman, Mont., and Durango, Colo. This year, there's a new festival in the small town of Redstone, Colo.
Andres Marin has competed three times in the Festival's elite competition. He notes that, while in the past ice climbing was always a solitary pursuit, what he's seen as a professional climber and guide is that ice climbing is growing so much that now it's becoming almost a social sport. "The Ouray Ice Park is less than a three-minute walk from your car. In a few steps, you are in the biggest ice park in the world where you can climb any route, of any difficulty you feel like, with minimal commitment." Sam Elias, Black Diamond rep and the athlete who's rumored to be the dark-horse ringer in this year's comp, says that part of the fun of the festival is the broad range of people it attracts. "There's the full range of participants - from people who's closest contact with ice is a cocktail, to gear heads who spend days sharpening their tools."
Perhaps the best thing about the festival is the opportunity to try a variety of gear. Equipment and apparel manufacturers set up booths at the festival to show off the latest and greatest equipment. Gear is available for demo - most of the time all you need is a driver's license or credit card to leave for collateral. You can nearly show up in a T-shirt and tennis shoes, and check out new tools, crampons, harnesses, and even the latest in waterproof/breathable jackets. "People come for the parties, competition, gear-swapping and demos," says Dawn Glanc, a mountain guide who won the women's competition in 2009. "While the competition is spirited, nobody is out for blood, as everybody is so happy to just be together. Plus, it is an awesome opportunity to try state-of-the-art gear."
While the after-climbing parties are the stuff of legends (note: carrying members of the opposite sex down Main Street on piggyback is not a good idea in icy conditions and if you show up in a G-string or carabiner bikini, video will show up on YouTube), it is the ice climbing competition that draws the biggest crowd. Part of the excitement is the international intrigue. Canadians and Americans have battled it out for several years, but the European contingency is fierce. While European competitions have started to resemble TV reality shows, with competitors leaping through the air to spear frozen barrels of water (affectionately dubbed "Elephant Balls"), the Ouray Ice Festival boasts real ice with sections of rock, interspersed with a few artificial handholds to keep things interesting. And surprisingly, it is not just the world's top mountain climbers who excel at this frosty sport.
One Dark Horse favorite for winning the comp is primarily known for his sport climbing prowess. While familiarity with crampons and axes is a plus, so is the ability to hang on and pull up on ridiculously overhanging artificial holds.
Steve House, one of the world's top alpinists, agrees about the difficulty of transferring real climbing skills. "Competition climbing has almost nothing to do with real climbing," acknowledges House. "But it does motivate us to train and get stronger and it's fun to climb to blasting rock music. The DJs let us provide our own music, and Vince Anderson usually has some interesting black-metal . . .. Plus there is live commentary on the speakers as you climb, which is bizarre. It goes something like: Steve House, famous for climbing Nanga Parbat's Rupal Face, is here to fall off some steep dry-tool route today!"
Competition is friendly but fierce. "Americans haven't really caught on to this type of sport-mixed climbing because most of the people who do this event are trad/ice climbers, not sport climbers," muses Andrew Bisharat, editor at Rock & Ice. "You put any top sport-climber in a pair of fruit boots and give him some ice tools, and with about two weeks of practice, I guarantee he'd be better than half the people who are supposedly top mixed climbers in the U.S. They may be good at alpine stuff, or have made names for themselves because they've done some mountain in good style, and that's really awesome in and of itself, but it doesn't mean that they will automatically be good at clipping."
Will Gadd, who's won the men's competition many times, is now embarking on a 24-Hours of Suffering odyssey for dZi (he'll ice climb for 24 hours straight, during the festival). The charity (endlessascent.org) helps families and children in Nepal. "Competing is fun, especially if you win," analyses Gadd. "Plus, it's an opportunity to see some of the best climbers in the world do their thing." Gadd notes that from the public's point of view, it's a lot of fun to watch people climb dangling icicles and try so valiantly to reach the top. Even the top athletes drop tools or pop off the ice in dramatic (but generally safe) falls.
In 2005, German climber Ines Papert won the overall title. Since the men and the women compete on the same course, the crowd went wild when Papert climbed higher than the top male competitor. Papert has already started training for the 2010 comp, with indoor and outdoor drytooling, and ice climbing whenever the weather cooperates. But also, "I am building my house now," says Papert, "so lifting rocks and concrete is my training."
To set the route, the route setters at Ouray gouge out holes in the rock to make for sinker ice-tool placements, then they spray paint light tickmarks beneath each of their manufactured holes. The competitors have jugs to hang onto (with leashless tools). Says Elias, "The competition routes are always well thought out, artfully created and fun to climb. The venue as a whole is really energetic and positive. Everyone is curious and eager to see new gear, or learn new things, or meet new people. It is just an all around great celebration of climbing and companionship and winter." Papert agrees. "It is an artificial route, wood and some drytooling on plastic. But it is well-protected and fun, with no fear about falling. And having spectators around pushes me a lot."
Last year, Josh Wharton won (see cover image). The member of the Mammut climbing team suggests wryly that his secret to his success was that the European climbers were competing elsewhere at a World Cup. "Seriously, that's probably true," says Wharton, "but I trained pretty hard, climbed well, and had a good day." The competition for 2010 is a one-shot deal, with no previewing of the route. "It is strangely like alpine climbing," says Wharton, "except for the crowds, of course. You have one shot to get it right, with plenty of pressure, so you just do the best you can."
Wharton says that what brings him back to Ouray year after year is the anticipation of seeing old friends. "Everybody is just having a good time and going climbing - there is no attitude. Some of my favorite new friends were people who were holding ice tools in their hands for the first time. They'd driven over from L.A. for the weekend, and were not climbers. We strapped crampons on their Sorels, and they had a blast. It was rad."
Each night, there are parties, fundraiser dinners, auctions and slide shows. The event brings out the often-eccentric trad crowd of old school ice climbers. Petzl sponsors a big dance party on Saturday night. This year, the dress up theme is super heroes - something most ice climbers can relate to mid climb. Generally, parties at Ouray have a campy, if not downright flamboyant, theme. Last year the festivities revolved around Beach Blanket Bingo, which resulted in a well-known alpinist showing up with a well-positioned sock as his only attire. Another wore a trench coat and G-string made of carabiners and slings. Both were escorted away, to the protests of the crowds, by the local constabulary. Previous years have resulted in funny wigs, tutus and leotards. This year, expect the super-heroes' theme to reveal plenty of lycra tights and swashbuckling capes. Timmy O'Neil, the international funny-man and climber, is the event's MC, which promises plenty of high-jinks and laughs. "Since I'm anti-drytool, I've asked for an Â?olive oil mist-cannon' for the Saturday party," says O'Neil. "Let's emulate the ice and get slippery!" 
In addition to ice, Ouray isn't without other charms. There's the Ouray Pool and Hot Springs, one of the country's Top Ten public hot soaking swimming pools with a five-star view. In town, there's Old West mixed with new blood. The Outlaw restaurant is owned by Walter Bonatti's distant niece, with drool-worthy entrees like the Scorpion Steak that gets you one step closer to eating an entire cow. Says Bisharat, "It always seems like something fun/strange/tragic/memorable happens," and maybe, that is part of the draw of ice climbing.