Just got back from Mato Tipila. Or Bear's Lodge. Or, most commonly, Devils Tower.

The 1,000-foot-high thumb of rock in northeastern Wyoming goes by a few names. But all refer to this geologic masterpiece, a monolith of pillars and cracks and six-sided columns. As I wrote in the blog last week, Devils Tower was a waypoint for wagon trains heading west in the 1800s. It's a sacred place to Native Americans. In pop culture the Tower has long been associated with the strange and the otherworldly, its vestige forever burned into the American consciousness via Steven Spielberg's classic 1977 movie "Close Encounters of the Third Kind."

For me, stretching back to the days when I edited Vertical Jones magazine (www.verticaljones.com) this has always been my favorite climbing area, with finger and fist cracks streaming hundreds of feet from the talus. I have climbed a dozen routes, up to 5.10 in difficulty. Once I took a 40-foot whipper here -- my longest climbing fall so far (and hopefully ever).

This past weekend, on assignment for New York Times (and testing equipment for Gear Junkie), I retuned to the Tower with photographer TC Worley (www.studiobluempls.com) for one day. We climbed just one route, as we were on a time crunch and had another assignment in the Black Hills. But "El Cracko Diablo" -- as the climb is called -- was a good line to get me to jump back into the saddle.

The climb, which goes at 5.8, involves an approach pitch, two long fist-crack pitches, then a couple hundred feet of fourth class to the top. The main climbing involves sink-your-hands-in-and-pull cracks, just gorgeous and safe expressway routes into the sky.

Stephen Regenold topping out pitch No. 2 on "El Cracko Diablo." photo by TC Worley.

We climbed with Frank Sanders, owner of Devils Tower Lodge (www.devilstowerlodge.com) and head guide of his eponymous business. I am rusty right now in the climbing department, so Frank led the two meaty pitches on El Cracko. He led with just two or three placements of gear on each pitch. Basically, he'd climb 40 to 50 feet between cam placements, solid and calm. (He's free-soloed the route several times.)

We climbed on Monday evening, leaving the trail around 5:30 p.m. It was a sunset cruise, and night fell right as we made the top. We watched the last rays from the "island in the sky" summit and then rappelled off in the dark, a halo of LED glow our only illumination on the moonless night.

Here are a few pics of the ascent as well as a couple close-ups of the Tower. Watch for gear reviews on the equipment employed during the climb in the coming weeks as well as a full narrative on the ascent in New York Times later this year. . .

"El Cracko Diablo," a 600-foot route

Stephen Regenold interviewing Frank Sanders on pitch No. 1 of "El Cracko Diablo"; photo by TC Worley.

See the spec?

Frank and TC on the summit at sunset.

After riding a self-proclaimed “Frankenbike” around the streets of
San Francisco for several years, Mike O’Neill designed a new take on
the stodgy old “Costanza” wallet. His plastic wallet—called the Jimi—is
one that you can throw in your bike jersey, or your pants, as it’s slim
and unobtrusive.

And if you get a bit frisky and sweat through your shirt, your cash will not get soggy.

O’Neill says to think of the Jimi as a more robust, stylish and
greener version of the ubiquitous snack-sized Ziploc bag. Good to stash
a license, credit cards, and a little cash, just the essentials and
nothing more.

Indeed, the company slogan is “The Wallet for
People Who Hate Wallets.” It’s about 9/16 of an inch thick and a smidge
taller than a credit card. There’s an integrated money clip, which is
removable for times when you only want to bring cash.

Bonus: The Jimi wallet is also a recycled/recyclable product that’s made in the USA and sold in bike stores around the country.

Cost is $14.95.

See more at Mr. Smith Inc., http://www.thejimi.com/wallet/demo.php

My story on eco lodges is up at ForbesTraveler.com (MSNBC.com and the Today Show’s website
also picked up the story). This article focuses on high-end resorts
with an eco angle, from environmental conservation to light-on-the-land
building techniques to the embracing of local culture.



Going green is not a new concept in the world of travel. For decades,
resorts like Maho Bay in the U.S. Virgin Islands and Turtle Island in
Fiji have demonstrated that eco-awareness and sustainability can
coexist with tourism. But in the past five years, the “eco” buzz has
been amplified within the travel industry—and throughout popular
culture as well.

If you’re going to spend the cash for a lux getaway, you might as
well do it with some conscious. This Top 10 list includes resorts with
thatch-roofed huts on a beach to cabins afloat on raft foundations in
fjords. Their structures are influenced by sources as diverse as
Robinson Caruso and Renzo Piano.

Go here for the full story: ForbesTraveler.com

Jason Magness is a “legend in the small underground of adventure sports.” At least that’s according to the Wall Street Journal,
which this weekend profiled Magness, a climber/adventure
racer/yogi/slack-liner buddy of mine from North Dakota famous for—among
a few things—snowkiting across North Dakota two months ago in the name
of renewable wind power energy (see my story on the trip here: http://thegearjunkie.com/sailing-across-the-prairie)

But a “legend”? Well, I’ll have to get his opinion on that. The Wall Street Journal story (http://online.wsj.com/article/SB120735228186491329.html?mod=hpp_us_leisure) is called “Into the Wild With Yoga,”
and reporter Alexandra Alter focuses on Magness’ pursuit of yoga on a
slackline (“yogaslacking”) as well as his free-spirited “itinerant
adventure addict” lifestyle.

As Zen vagabond types go, Magness
is the real deal. He lives out of a van and sleeps on couches around
the country, traveling to race, climb and teach yoga and slacking. He
is 32 years old and has a background in physics, once working as a
rocket-systems engineer for Raytheon in Tucson.

I met Magness at Primal Quest Utah, a 10-day adventure race we both
did (on separate teams) in 2006. We shared a crazy moment in the middle
of the night, lost in the desert, on about the fourth day of the event,
both sleep deprived and delirious.

In the WSJ story, Alter
cites Magness as the personification of “the latest generation of
American drifters who live to scale cliffs, ski or surf” and earn
“four-figure annual incomes.” To provide some context, the writer
quotes Chuck “Chongo” Tucker, a 56-year-old climber who’s lived summers
outdoors for nearly four decades in Yosemite Valley. “People dream of
doing what we’re doing,” Chongo says.

Magness gets quoted
saying things like “Exploring that edge of human potential is really
fascinating to me.” But the funny thing is, from Magness, this sentence
I believe does not contain a drop of B.S.: He pushes life and the
current moment to its max, whether that’s in the Virabhadrasana pose
while balanced on webbing or six days deep into a race, head swimming,
blisters bleeding on his heels.

Alter captures some of that in the story, readable in full here: http://online.wsj.com/article/SB120735228186491329.html?mod=hpp_us_leisure

Earlier this month ski guide Martin Volken -- a Swiss expat now living in the Seattle area -- lead the way with two Norwegian guides on a ski-touring trip I jumped in on in the Romsdal Alps. (See my trip report here.) Volken, owner of Pro Guiding Service in North Bend, Wash., gave me pointers on how to most efficiently skin uphill, kick turn, and cut a path up steep faces on mountains with names like Kirketaket and Smorbottentin.

But it was only later that I learned Volken is the man of the moment in backcountry ski and ski-touring information.

Indeed, earlier this month Mountaineers Books published Volken is co-author, along with Scott Schell and Margaret Wheeler.

The 344-page textbook to all things backcountry and skiing covers topics from avalanche safety and navigation to gear, fitness information and nutrition for the high peaks. There's a tutorial on how to employ advanced ski mountaineering techniques as well as the basics for beginners just getting the guts to head out of bounds.

But don't just take my word. Here's what backcountry ski guru Lou Dawson has to say:

+"This book is indeed a magnum opus. Not only is this one of the most current backcountry skiing how-tos I've ever seen, but it covers an amazing gamut of information, including Chapter 2, "Decision Making in Avalanche Terrain,"; and Chapter 4, "Uphill Movement," which gets incredibly detailed. If you're new to the game, I'd say this chapter alone makes the book worth the price. Highly recommended."+

See the details on "Backcountry Skiing: Skills for Ski Touring and Ski Mountaineering" here: www.mountaineersbooks.org

'Nuf said. . .

(+This is the second post in a three-part report on my trip to Norway's Romsdal Alps in early March.+)

While ski touring the Romsdal Alps was the primary objective in Norway last week, a big part of the adventure for me was also found on the water, where my group traveled the fjords of central Norway via the Anne Margrethe, a restored sailing vessel built in 1880. The 70-foot "jakt" (yacht) was captained by Bjarne Krekvik, a 55-year-old sailor from a small village north of the town of Molde, our home base.

We "sailed" (powered by a 250hp Volvo diesel) to ports like Andalsnes and Eresfjord over four days, and we slept onboard in the boat's cabins. A cozy galley was the social center, and each night involved rich meals and long conversation at the big table below deck, where we'd study maps and plan the next day's adventure.

The mountains drop thousands of feet, from sky to slate-blue water, in the area. The fjords plunge to icy depths. Cruising on the Anne Margrethe -- motor humming, Capt. Bjarne at the wheel, Norse scenery floating by -- was a gorgeous time.

On the first night I snuck up top long after dark as the ship cut south toward Andalsnes. Mountains were black hulks drifting by, featureless silhouettes rising abruptly, blocking out an inky sky dotted with stars.

Breakfast was below deck each morning, coffee, eggs, and jam on bread. We made sandwiches for the day's ski, then climbed the ladder into the sun. Put skins on skis up top. Double checked the packs. Jumped off the ship and onto land, a quick drive most mornings to a trailhead where we'd start our ski.

Equipment check up top at port in Andalsnes.

The galley; post-dinner one evening.

Capt. Bjarne Krekvik

Skins on, ready to ski!

View from the crow's nest, 70 feet above the water!

Motoring west to Eresfjord on day No. 3; view from a window in the wheelhouse.

(Stephen Regenold writes The Gear Junkie column for eleven U.S. newspapers; see www.THEGEARJUNKIE.com for video gear reviews, a daily blog, and an archive of Regenold's work.)