Fracking Colorado? “Dear Governor Hickenlooper” Premieres at Mountainfilm: Watch a Screening Near You!
Osprey Athlete Alison Gannett is a World Champion Big Mountain FreeSkier, founder both The Save Our Snow Foundation and KEEN Rippin Chix Steep Skiing Camps and Rippin Chix Mountain Bike Camps. As an accomplished ski mountaineer and Environmental Scientist, she utilizes her first descents and ski expeditions worldwide — India, Pakistan, Bolivia, Argentina, Bhutan, South Africa, Europe and North America — to document glacial recession. Alison has dedicated her life to making the world a better place, and has spent over half her life working on solutions to climate change.
Osprey makes me proud, and I’m honored to be an official ambassador. Recently they helped sponsor a new documentary film, Dear Governor Hickenlooper, which premiered at the renowned Mountainfilm in Telluride film festival. Dear Governor Hickenlooper is a collection of documentary films directed by a variety of Colorado filmmakers and provides a new perspectives on fracking and clean energy through the eyes of scientists, entrepreneurs, artists and families. Not only was I lucky enough to attend the film’s premiere, but I am also honored to be in the film. Fracking has been proposed in the 30,000 acres surrounding my Holy Terror Farm, and 200,000 acres of my water shed have already been leased for drilling.
activism, Alison Gannett, boulder, carbon footprint, coal, Colorado, Dear Governor Hickenlooper, denver, Documentary, energy, environment, film, fracking, holy terror farm, methane, mountainfilm, Osprey Athletes, telluride, water
As an author, professional climber, filmmaker, and entrepreneur, Osprey Athlete Majka Burhardt has spent two decades exploring the globe—usually by hand and foot—and her stories of challenge, humanity, and the fine line between extreme and acceptable risk continue to inspire audiences around the world.
The Lost Mountain is a project about discovery, adventure, and ultimately survival in one of the world’s least-explored and most-threatened habitats. Mt. Namuli, a 7,936-foot granite monolith, is the largest of a group of isolated peaks that tower over the ancient valleys of northern Mozambique. Here, plants and animals have evolved as if on dispersed oceanic islands, so that individual mountains have become refuge to their own unique species of life, many of which have yet to be discovered or described by science. Yet despite these distinctions, it is Mt. Namuli’s linkages to the surrounding landscape and its position along a corridor of mountains stretching from South Africa to the Arabian Peninsula that has gripped the attention of the world. The Lost Mountain is about working locally to create locally-generated change and possibility. It is also about sharing that story with the world.
Majka shared this update from May 1, 2014:
Four days from today, I meet my international team of scientists, conservation workers, climbers, filmmakers, students, and volunteers at the airport in Blantyre, Malawi. We’re heading to Mozambique; we’re heading to the Lost Mountain. All totaled, 19 people varying in age from 19 to 55, from Brazilians to South Africans, Americans to Mozambicans, with backgrounds ranging from snakes to photography, forestry to rock climbing, will be working together for one month in the African bush. We have big goals. It started small. It’s mostly my fault—and I’m the one who’s in charge. (more…)
#LostMountain, Blantyre, climbers, Climbing, Conservation, conservation workers, filmmakers, Geraldo Palane, jetlag, Lost Mountain, LUPA, Majka Burhardt, Malawi, Maputo, Mozambique, Mt. Namuli, Namuli, Osprey athlete, Sarah Garlick, students, The Lost Mountain film
Osprey Ambassador Chris Gallaway is seeking support through Kickstarter to make his a film, “The Long Start to the Journey” a reality. January 31st is the campaign deadline to support this compelling documentary about the Appalachian Trail and if the campaign does not meet its goal no funding will be collected and given to the movie.
In support of Chris’s Kickstarter campaign, we’re giving away an Exos 48 Superlight Backpack to the next donor to pledge $220. The Exos 48, our newest ultra-light technical backpack, is a masterful combination of ounce-shaving, durable materials and a feather-weight internal frame to keep you fast and comfortable on your next journey. Your pack will have a “The Long Start to the Journey” patch sewn on to commemorate your part in making this film possible. Note: We’ll need to get your unique sizing before fulfilling this reward and you must be a resident of the US to be eligible.
To follow Chris’s journey on the trail last year, visit www.theATmovie.com.
A question I have often heard since completing my 7-month thru-hike on the Appalachian Trail is how the experience changed me. That’s a difficult one for me to answer, and it’s probably better addressed by people who know me well and have observed me from the outside. The images above were taken at the beginning and end of my hike (the third, cold morning in February on Blood Mountain Georgia and the last day in September as I walked down from Katahdin). While I know that these two self-portraits encompass a host of experiences and some of the most significant changes of my life, it’s difficult for me to articulate what’s different between them. (more…)
adventure, Appalachian, appalachian trail, AT Trail, causes, Chris Gallaway, Documentary, Exos, Exos 48, Experiences, film, filmmaking, hiking, Horizonline Pictures, inspiration, journey, kickstarter, mountains, Osprey Packs Ambassador, The Long Start to the Journey, thru-hike, trail, video
When we read about an artist who’s creating life-size sculptures of man’s best friend out of repurposed bicycle parts, we decided pretty immediately that it was something we had to share with the world. Here’s how the magic happens:
The artist is a talented woman named Nirit Levav Packer, who collects bike parts from bike shops around Tel Aviv. Then, she solders bike parts that she collects from garages and bike shops all over Tel Aviv. According to The Telegraph article:
“The series, called HOW!WoW!, began by chance when Nirit examined some bicycle parts being thrown away at her son’s bike store, and instead of seeing them as rubbish she saw a potential to do something creative with them. Within a few months, she had left a successful career in wedding dress design for metal sculpture.”
It’s November 6th. I should be traveling overland from Malawi to Mozambique. I should be squished in a long base truck with my team alongside duffels of climbing gear, insect specimen nets and enough food for fourteen people for twenty-one days. I should have my face pressed against the window with my eyes open wide saying Oooh! See that? and pointing out beautiful granite dome after beautiful granite dome to my climbing partner Kate while she does the same from the other side of the truck.
But we are not en route from Malawi to Mozambique today. We aren’t because at 7 AM on Sunday, October 27th, we awoke to news of another incidence of violence in central Mozambique. The day before, a civilian convoy of three vehicles was attacked and one person was killed. It was horrible news for families of the person killed and those injured, for the people in the Sofala region and for the country of Mozambique. Tensions had been escalating in Mozambique in the week leading up to our scheduled departure and we’d been monitoring the situation extremely closely. Following the news on Sunday morning, and in light of the rising unrest and expectations of continued escalation heading into the upcoming elections on November 20th, we made the very difficult decision to postpone the project until May/June 2014. Our cinematographer Q was at the airport check-in counter when we made the call. All of the other U.S.-based members of our team were within 4-6 hours of take off.
Coordinating a 14-person international team is never easy. But deciding that the safety of that team comes first is very easy. In the week since our decision, tensions have continued to rise with new incidents daily, including several in the towns that our Conservation Team LUPA would be traveling through en route to join us from Maputo. We — and the majority or Mozambique and the world — hope that the people of Mozambique keep the peace they have worked so hard to maintain. Most expectations point to a resolution in the time following the upcoming elections. We have chosen to postpone until May/June as that will be at the end of the rainy season and during a time when our science team can do its best work — i.e. find the maximum number of bugs and other creepy crawly things. We will continue to monitor the situation in the meantime and are in daily contact with partners and advisors in Mozambique.
It’s now been just over a week since we didn’t start our trip. It’s been just long enough to go from the shock of the decision to the excitement about what we can create with a touch more time to plan: additional scientific specialties, new collaborations and more connections and possibilities discovered every day. It’s also been just enough time to have unpacked my bags, and repacked them. 75% of what was in them is unique to the Lost Mountain. They are ready and waiting in my basement for spring.
Keep up with #LostMountain at http://www.thelostmountainfilm.com/
Climbing a Granite Big Wall, Discovering New Species for Science, and Starting a New Conservation Area. Aka, Going Camping.
Right now I am supposed to tell you I am ready and that I know what I am doing. I’m neither.
Projects that matter take self-trickery to make happen. I never asked myself if it was really possible or a good idea to splice together climbing and science and conservation and Malawi and Mozambique and 14 individuals all trying to achieve a collective goal. I just set about doing it. Now it is happening. Which means now is when the panic of the reality sets in. Put another way, we’ve already climbed the high dive ladder, stood on the edge, and jumped off. Now—when there is no way to go backwards—is therefore the first time when I am finally allowing myself to look at the giant body of water which I’m heading for at full speed. It’s just the way I like to do it.
I’ve spent the majority of my life in and out of major expeditions. I was that kid who had her dolls and stuffed animals organized for imaginary camp with peanut rations and toilet paper sleeping bags. It stands to reason that I am now the adult who has the following decisions to make:
- What percentage of the poisonous snakes which we will be around have fangs that are over ½ an inch long and thus make a case for the thicker high-top leather hiking boots versus low-tops?
- Will deet from 2004 still work, and work well enough against malaria-carrying mosquitos? Chance it or change it?
- Will 33 porters be obscene or accurate? And what size T-shirts do these porters wear/should we bring for gifts?
- Is EtOH alcohol available for our scientists’ specimen vials in Blantyre, Malawi, or should they tuck it in their luggage here in the U.S. and act none the wiser?
- If the rainy season starts early will it make any difference if I bring one rain jacket or two?
My nine-year-old niece Miranda called me yesterday evening to talk about camping. She was just back from a family trip in Northern Minnesota
“How was it?” I asked her.
“Camping is cool,” she said. I laughed and agreed.
We talked about her favorite part (waterfalls) the scariest thing (the sound the rain made on the tent) and yuckiest thing (sleeping next to her brother). Once we covered the highlights I asked her if she would do it again. “Well, yeah” she said. I think she would have said “Duh, yeah” had her mother not been listening.
“You know, Miranda,” I said, “I sort of camp for a living.”
She giggled. Usually she tells me I am silly for pretty much everything I say. This time she said “You’re lucky, Auntie Majka.”
After Miranda and I hung up I went upstairs and looked at the pile of climbing gear with pieces for every possible situation known and unknown, stacks of maps and research and logistics papers, rain coats and rain pants, bug nets, gaiters, sat phones, energy bars and more. This is the highest high dive off of which I’ve ever jumped. But at a certain level, it’s also camping—something I have been doing my whole life. And if camping is cool to Miranda, it’s also cool to me. After all, the thing I’m also most worried about is too much rain on the outside of the tent.
By Majka Burhardt, Lost Mountain Project director and Osprey Athlete
#LostMountain begins October 27th; Follow along at thelostmountainfilm.com
Last Thursday evening, a group of Osprey volunteers hopped into our silver Dodge mini van, loaded down with gear and clothing for what was to be a wet, snowy weekend just outside Boulder, CO, and departed for an event called The Backyard Collective.
The BYC is an effort of The Conservation Alliance, which brings together member company employees (in this case, Osprey, La Sportiva, etc.) and local grantees for a day of environmental action. Projects include trail work, invasive species removal and other opportunities for us to get out of the office and get our hands dirty doing good work to preserve and protect the open spaces in our own backyards.
At this event in particular, there were a few new volunteers (myself included), and we were all anxious to arrive, layer up, get our boots muddy and do our part to help the Boulder community that’s very much in need.
During the more than seven-hour drive from our Cortez headquarters, I thought quite a bit about what trail work really means — and what it would mean for me at this event. The first image that came up was of myself swinging a pickaxe on some dry single track with a weathered pair of leather gloves, sun shining on the hillside with an epic view of early high-altitude snowfall, and a deep blue sky filled with puffy clouds that seem close enough to run across. Then, I imagined, I’d break for a morning Clif bar and refill my green tin cup with a few more ounces of hot John Wayne-style coffee. Oh, I imagined, it’d sure be glorious and rewarding. That’s the definition of trail work right?
We awoke Friday to a rain-snow mix and temps in the low 30s. We sorted our way through a light morning commute toward Broomfield, made a quick stop for coffee and finally arrived at the Carolyn Holmberg Preserve at Rock Creek Farm. After an initial meet-and-greet and a disbursement of tools, we received our group assignment and grabbed the wheelbarrows to head down the path.
The expected turnout of 20 people was a sure underestimation of our group’s commitment to help The Conservation Alliance. I took a quick count of about 50 people dressed in Gore-Tex rain shells, with hats pulled over their ears and smiles on their faces as they huddled around the free hot chocolate.
The trails here at the farm have been closed for some time, and after our work, nearly 125,000 people will regain access to them. We worked seamlessly with great instruction — and nearly four hours later, noticed that we had created one thousand feet of new path for the locals to enjoy. Six hundred more feet was our initial task. We crushed it. My hands were sore, my back a little tight, but I didn’t quite feel exhausted or fulfilled like I had originally anticipated the week before. Hmm…
For myself, I think there were a few greater questions and lessons that I took away from the morning. I certainly contemplated my self-interests in the volunteer day. Why did I really sign up to help? To feel good? To get out of work for a day? It’s cliché to say ‘to help those in need’, but maybe it was just as simple as that?
The reality of the work and location was nothing like the perfect Colorado day I had imagined when I signed up and stepped away from my desk. It frankly reminded me of the days growing up in Michigan and having to help a relative with chores around their acreage. It was flat, grey and damp. Turns out, it didn’t matter.
As the weekend continued in the hustle of downtown Denver, I looked around watching other’s interactions in the city, and it seemed as though our efforts began to sink in on another level. We all love nature for different reasons. Whether we’re taking a personal break from our jobs, on a vacation we’ve filled the money jar with for a few months or simply heading out of town with a group of friends to have great stories to share on Monday morning: it’s all the same.
I realized it doesn’t matter where the trail leads or what the view is. It’s a trail, which means it’s an opportunity to be outside: and it’s that simple. It’s a way to improve someone’s day whether it is used on a lunch break walk or the start of a multi-week adventure of not regularly washing your hair. Whatever the function, we took time out of our lives, our weekends, our days, to help something and someone else. Each of us is capable of, if we so choose, taking advantage of these small opportunities to positively impact the places that we love. And more importantly, help places that other people love.
Tim Calkins / Senior Graphic Designer Osprey Packs
It’s just a box of rain
I don’t know who put it there
Believe it if you need it
or leave it if you dare
Down here in southwest Colorado we have been suffering through a severe drought. In the arid west, this presents a seemingly endless cycle of cause and effect. Ski seasons start late and end early, the low snowpack results in an early and short runoff, farmers that depend on run off and rain water cannot grow as many crops, rivers run or are drained near dry in an early and hot summer, fires rage across once fertile mountainsides burning hundreds of thousands of acres. Then fall settles in and the snow comes late and short — and it starts all over again.
Beyond the ever-mounting and distressing environmental consequences, this cycle has a profound human and economic effect. Shortened ski seasons hurt our ski resorts and towns, contribute to poor backcountry conditions, and threaten our drinking water. Brief and low river runoffs kill the river recreation economy depended on by raft guides, outfitters and by communities through which recreational boaters provide a spark to local business. Farmers plant one less crop, hire one less hand, produce even less food for us all. And firefighters risk their lives trying to save towns who see no tourism dollars after tourists see the news of smoke, blackened hillsides and toothpick trees.
But for the past few weeks all of that has changed. It has been raining and it continues to rain. Not just an afternoon monsoon, but full days and early mornings of rain. Yesterday morning as I drove to work in a downpour, the DJ played “Box of Rain” by the Dead – no coincidence. That set me to thinking about my relationship with rain. I grew up in Colorado where even under the best of seasons it does not rain near as much as compared to other parts of the world. 300 days of sunshine? I’ll take it!
I lived in the Pacific Northwest for a decade where there are 20 or more terms for the different types of the stuff. I never got used to the incessant rain or its sudden and total absence in the summer months when you actually want it. I’ve spent summer months in deluge downpours in the brutal humidity of the Mid-Atlantic States. And I’ve traveled through the elderly mountains of the northeast where the rain fed forest grows so thick sunglasses are moot, even on the sunniest of days.
So as I drove through the Colorado rain I thought, it is here where I cherish the rain the most. It is a blessed event. The rain is the intermission in the three non-snow seasons (in truth, all seasons see snow here) that makes the unique attributes of spring, summer and fall so special. Finally, a monsoon season like we are supposed to have. A rain season where the San Juan Mountains vibrate when you look at them because they are so green, where the columbines look like they are on steroids, where mountain streams rage and where valley rivers turn brown with sediment from landslides. Even the high desert mesas retain their life – mesa verde, literally.
Every drop is valued. I did not feel this way in the Pacific Northwest where a week without rain produces comments bordering on panic. Or in the cold mists of Northern California. Or in the damp humid deluges of the mid Atlantic. Or within the thick Northeast forests where my eyes strain to see the sky.
Here, our normal non-drought, monsoon rainfall cycle is the bridge between the end and beginning of winter when the snow piles up and supplies the majority of our water. It is perfect. This is the place where rain and I exist together in true synchronicity.
Written by Gareth Martins, Director of Marketing, Osprey Packs
If you’ve ever gone home from OR to a partner or roommate who’s never been, it can be tough to explain just why you’re so exhausted when you return. But if you’ve ever experienced the madness, fun and fluorescent lights of this show yourself, you know that it takes about a week’s time to recover fully from the happy hours, meetings and never-ending events. Maybe you’re in the recovery phase right now; maybe you missed the show and want to know what happened. Either way, here’s just a bit of what went down at this year’s epic Outdoor Retailer show!
Day One capped off with a performance from The Infamous Stringdusters at SLC’s Depot, which kicked off their American Rivers Tour, “an epic summer music adventure stopping through, and winding down, some of American’s wildest and most beloved rivers and surrounding communities.”
Osprey’s Marketing Manager Gareth Martins shows support for the Colorado River, which supports 250,000 sustainable recreation industry jobs across the southwest. Day two’s Conservation Alliance Breakfast with Pete McBride taught us that” in 2013, American Rivers named the Colorado River the nation’s #1 most endangered river due to drought, over-allocation and climate change.” Visit www.StandUpForCoRiver.com to learn more about the campaign to save the Colorado.
As always, the end of Summer OR can only mean one thing: it’s time to start the countdown to Winter OR. Ready, go!
We know, we know; How did it get to be this time of year again? We’re wondering the same thing. Alas, it’s Summer OR time, and as always, we’ve all got a lot to look forward to. Here’s our list of events…
OSPREY PACKS/TELLURIDE SKI RESORT BOOTH PARTY TO BENEFIT THE SHEEP MOUNTAIN ALLIANCE
When: Thursday, August 1 — 4 to 6:30PM
Where: Osprey Packs booth #5010
Sheep Mountain Alliance is a grassroots citizen organization dedicated to the preservation of the natural environment in the Telluride Region and Southwest Colorado. They’re currently a key advocate in the effort to pass the San Juan Wilderness Bill and stopping the Pinon Ridge Uranium Mill in Paradox, CO. Drop by the Osprey Booth and purchase a Klean Kanteen cup for $10 to fill it with a tasty beer and enter for a chance to win an Osprey Pack while supporting Sheep Mountain Alliance. Drop your business card for your chance to win our all-expenses-paid summer trip giveaway to Telluride, which will include: a tour of Osprey’s Cortez headquarters before heading to Telluride for two nights’ lodging and two days of skiing for two people or two rounds of golf for two people, as well as an Osprey travel wheels pack and a ski or day pack to get you there. Stick around — the winner will be announced at the end of the party — and while you’re mingling you can learn about the Sheep Mountain Alliance as well as Osprey and Telluride’s efforts to source green power to run their operations.
PACK SALE TO BENEFIT THE LOST MOUNTAIN PROJECT
When: While supplies last, get ’em while they’re hot!
Where: Osprey Packs booth #5010
Purchase an Osprey Rev 6 for $35 and support The Lost Mountain Project, a collaboration between an international cadre of scientists, conservationists, global adventurers and filmmakers featuring Osprey athlete Majka Burhardt. Put this OR event on your calendar and we will see you there!
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AMERICAN RIVERS TOUR
When: Wednesday, July 31 — doors at 7, Show at 8
Where: The Depot Salt Lake City
Grammy-nominated bluegrass outfit The Infamous Stringdusters are kicking off their 2013 American Rivers Tour, an epic summer music adventure stopping through, and winding down, some of America’s wildest and most beloved rivers and surrounding communities at Outdoor Retailer with a live concert at The Depot in SLC! We’re proud sponsors of this event and will be there to help the Stringdusters celebrate their partnership with the nation’s leading river conservation organization, American Rivers, which is celebrating its 40th Anniversary. Come by to help celebrate, raise money and awareness for the organization and its mission to protect and restore rivers and clean water nationwide.
Where: Meet at the Park N Pedal Booth outsideSouth Entrance of Salt Palace
A casual scenic bike ride around downtown Salt Lake City. Plan for an easy social ride that features a fun stop at Liberty Park where we will have snacks, refreshments, games and giveaways. Ends back at the Palace.
OUTDOOR INDUSTRY ALL-STAR JAM TO BENEFIT NATUREBRIDGE AND PARADOX SPORTS
When: Friday, August 2 — 9:30pm
Where: Club Elevate @ 155 W. 200 S.
Think Battle of the Bands + OR + Beer… oh and dancing your face off. It’s that good. Witness industry veterans rocking the legendary All Star Industry Jam. Added bonus: Your $10 cover goes to benefit Naturebridge and Paradox Sports, so you can feel even better about dancing the night away.