Hushe Valley, Pakistan

This was our home for the month, not a bad place!

My first 24 hours in Pakistan ended here. 14,000 ft. pass, army check point, we had to stay here for fear of being robbed traveling at night.

 Skardu, this was the jeep that would take us up to Hushe.

 First day and we already have our first climb scouted. 16 pitch 7c+

 This is Doug with Hushe down below.

 On clear days we had a great view of Masherbrum.

 Little higher on the route, one of the crux pitches, 7c+

 Myself on the summit

Great day!

 Ali & Rasool, they were our constant companions. Two great guys!

This was our next climb, turned out to be dirty rock so we bailed after 5 pitches.

This was 6oz. of milk that destroyed me for about a week. Doug commented as he took this picture

"Here is the last picture of Rusty before we call Global Rescue!"

Rasool and I visiting with the women that gave us the milk. This was in a valley above Hushe.

 After I recovered we turned our attention to this unclimbed peak.

The photo only shows the first buttress, which we climbed at 5.11-.

 This was the crux pitch.

Higher on the ridge above the initial buttress. We bivied not far from here at 16,000ft..

Doug with the unclimbed summit behind. That night we got rain and snow and bailed in the morning.

Another climb, Stago Peak, Doug leads out.

 Rasools wife and new daughter.

 Ali with his family at there home.

the climbing was great but making friends like this is priceless!

 Some of the guys at the hotel playing a board game.

 Our room, not a bad base camp. The food was excellent also.

12 steak kabobs, rotti bread & a coke, Back in Islamabad. Not  bad way to end the trip!

Becoming a Mountain Man

Last winter, I read a quote listing three requirements to become a Mountain Man. First, you have to kill a bear. Secondly, you have to love a native woman. And thirdly, you have to pee in the Yukon River. Now for as long as I can remember I have always wanted to be a Mountain Man. As a child the idea of wondering the hills with a Hawkin rifle, leggins and a fur hat captivated my imagination. I felt I would truely be wild and free, answering to no one. Unfortunately, I grew up and turned into an adult. I also bought into the fascade of the American Dream, a mortgage, car payments, credit card debt, big screen tv and all the other bullshit that our sociaty tells us is part of our dream.
Last summer I was trying to find that particular quote. To no avail I could not find it, but it got me thinking how I accomplished all three.
 First of all, I killed a Pope & Young record sized black bear using a self bow, which is a stick bow my friend Brad carved out of an Osage Orange tree branch, and wooden arrows.Secondly, I am married to the most beautiful woman I have ever set eyes on, and she just happens to be Northern Cheyenne. Her Great, Great grandfather was Chief Dull Knife also known as Morning Star.
Thirdly, I pissed in the Yukon River. Sorry to say I didn't reach number three with quite the same pinach! I was in Whitehorse, the biggest town in the Yukon, with Stan, Daniel and Peter, on our way to climb Mt. Logan. On the long drive from Montana, I was telling them about the three requirements and at that moment we were in the middle of town gasing up Stan's Toyota. I look across the busy street and there flows the mighty Yukon River. Daniel notices me looking and says, "Here is your chance." Without a second thought I sprint across the busy street, and I turn to see Peter close on my heels, with a huge grin, and his camera. I find a spot on the bank in the bushes, drop trow and piss in the river. Peter follows suit and we laugh like little school kids.

When I returned from Canada, I reflected on where I am at in my life, and I also thought a lot about those three crazy requirements. I have come to realize I don't hunt anymore because I honestly don't like killing animals. Secondly, I love my wife because of the amazing person she is and not because of her lineage.  Lastly, anybody could piss in the Yukon if it were right in front of them. However, I am a Mountain Man not because of or inspite of those three requirements, but because of what is in my heart. Only differences are that I roam the mountains with ice tools instead of a Hawkin rifle, and I wear gortex and a helmet rather than buckskins and a coonskin cap. But it would be a lie if I didn't say I have thought of attaching a coon tail to the back of my helmet.