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Flatlander wins tall grant-Des Moines Register
Flatlander wins tall grant
By
BOB MODERSOHN
Register Staff Writer
04/10/2002
Brian Block aims to climb Denali's east face next month. No
one has ever done it before.
Block, 28, was awarded a $2,000 Lyman Spitzer grant last week
for the Alaska expedition he will lead beginning May 23. The Iowa State student, whose
hometown is Ames, is the only winner living east of Colorado. The rest are from
Boulder, Yosemite, Reno, Seattle and other mountaineering communities.
"It's huge," said Block of winning the American Alpine Club
grant. "It's like the
consummation of everything I've been working on." "We're kind of like the
lottery winners among these guys." His prairie roots even led to an appropriate
expedition name:
Team Flatlander.
Block and teammate Joel Andersen, 29, of Zearing will attempt
an alpine-style
first ascent on Denali, also known as Mount McKinley. The attempt will
include
a 40-plus-mile trek approach. "Going alpine-style means climbing with
everything on our
backs, moving up and on to our destination, without
fixed ropes," Block said.
Most places have already been climbed, he said. "This one's
undone at this point."
The Spitzer grant, and another called the Helly Hansen grant,
is awarded by the
American Alpine Club to cutting-edge expeditions destined for
Greenland, Mongolia,
the Himalayas, Baffin Island and Alaska.
They go to the cream-of-the-crop climbers, said Chris Chesak,
manager of the
Spitzer and Helly Hansen grants. "They are only awarded to
expeditions that really
further the climbing community's collective knowledge base
and skill-set."
Many expeditions are planned by climbers with little income,
yet the costs are often
well into the five-figure range, Chesak said. "So they need
all the help they can get."
Block had never considered asking for any financial help
before applying for the
Spitzer grant. "I try to stay as commercial-free as possible
because I don't want it to
affect my climbing in any way. Even growing up in Iowa, Block
has a long history of
endurance efforts. He camped out in the dead of an Iowa
winter along the South
Skunk River with no tent. He used a bivouac sack over his
sleeping bag for shelter.
"I've been doing this same kind of stuff for years, even back
when I was sleeping by
the river." Listening to his concerns, though, makes you
wonder.
"It's super avalanche-prone, so we'll probably spend a couple
of days watching the
patterns and watching the barometer for a good weather
window. Then go for it.
We'll have to negotiate rock, snow, ice and glacier
difficulties, as well as hanging
seracs and wicked cornices." Park regulations prevent air
traffic on the east side
of the mountain, thus reducing the probability of rescue to
nil.
"To tell you the truth, I'm more concerned about the bears
that we'll have to get
past on the approach," Block said. He's already begun taking
vitamins and pushing
the fluids. "And mental preparation is a continual process,"
he said. "I've got numerous
copies of the route hanging in my room next to my bed,
hanging from the lights, on my
computer and over my fish tank. It helps get me motivated and
memorize the route."
They
push the limits
By
BOB CASTELLINE
Register Correspondent
08/03/2002
Running weekend marathons, biking a couple
hundred miles in one day
and climbing Alaska's Denali - from the ordinary
west side - just aren't
enough for some guys.
Three central Iowans took on challenges in the
last two months that
were miles, days and sleepless nights beyond more
ordinary feats.
These guys are outdoor extremists. One man
rode his bike across the
United States faster than anyone 50 or older ever
has. Another ran the
RAGBRAI route, east to west, in less than 10
days. A third attempted
to climb Denali's east face twice, amid ice
slides and floodwaters, escaping
death while failing to reach the summit. Why?
Their reasons vary, but it
goes deeper than fame and fortune. One common
thread is that all three
aimed to accomplish something never done before.
Dr. Bob Breedlove, a 50-year-old orthopedic
surgeon from Des Moines;
Rusty Bishop, a 33-year-old business executive
also from Des Moines;
and Brian Block, a 28-year-old college
student/climbing wall supervisor/youth
worker from Ames - all three men dream up their
challenges, plan their
attacks, then pursue them. Failure is never an
option. The title of four-time
Tour de France winner Lance Armstrong's book puts
it bluntly:
"It's Not About the Bike." There's more to
reaching new heights than a
fast bike, blister-free running shoes or plenty
of rock and ice climbing rope.
BRIAN BLOCK, CLIMBER
The challenge: To be first to conquer the east
face of Denali
As a younger guy, climber Brian Block used to
sleep outside in a bivouac
sack in the dead of winter for kicks. He may best
illustrate what drives
outdoor extremists to new heights.
Block had already conquered Denali's summit,
twice. But those expeditions
carried him up the mountain's west face. Nobody
had ever climbed its
nasty east face. He went back to Alaska to climb
the alluring east face in
early June because it was the last great
first-ascent opportunity in the
Western Hemisphere.
"It's committing, extremely dangerous and
completely untouched," he said.
He applied for a grant from the American Alpine
Club earlier this year to make
the expedition and won it. But once the
expedition began, it became a
logistical nightmare. Everything that could go
wrong, did.
It rained when he and climbing partner, Joel
Andersen, 29, of Zearing,
reached 8,300 feet. The rain weakened the
snowpack and triggered some
of the biggest avalanches Block had ever seen.
"As we were getting large avalanches from three
sides, we decided to back
off our camp another two miles to the head of the
west fork of the
Traleika (glacier area). "About three hours
later, a huge slide came down
and wiped out our previous camp."
Block expected problems from grizzlies, but a
ground squirrel gnawed the
inside of his hiking boot while it was cached
overnight in his sled. He patched
his boots up with duct tape and shreds of a
Patagonia capeline sock.
By the time the climbers failed their first
attempt, Andersen almost drowned
crossing the McKinley River. Both were strapped
to 125-pound backpacks.
Gear was eaten by wildlife or destroyed by high
winds, ice and snow debris
ahead of avalanches.
Then they told people they were going back in.
"They thought we were crazy," Block said, "but
I've never taken such a
whippin" in my whole life, and I wasn't
satisfied."
On the second attempt, under the east face, the
glacier was coming unglued.
There were 100 yards of snow and ice debris
between them and the face they
could only dream of reaching. It snowed, it
rained, it snowed, it rained.
Mosquitos assaulted them. "We waited a day or
two, only to know in the
saddest of ways that the trip was done."
After failing to reach the east face after two
attempts, coming within a
mile of the rock wall, the two climbers had to
pull out. They were out of food.
They would have to cross the swollen McKinley
once again. This time, Block
nearly bought the farm as he stepped into a hole
and was swept away in
the silty current. Downstream, Andersen and a
tree limb helped save Block.
"I haven't really accepted this as defeat, and
will definitely be back next
year, and every year until this gets done." He's
already begun making
arrangements to return next year, "with a bigger
and better game plan," he said.
"The route that we found, which is definitely
different from the suggested route,
is completely sick and makes me both nervous and
excited at the same time.
"Whatever style I would choose to get up this
kind of mountain would be
completely up to me, as there would be no
precedent to follow. I would get
to be the trendsetter and maker of my own rules."
What inside Block really drives him in his ascent
of the east face of Denali?
"It absolutely takes something special within
you. It's almost like a genetic
defect to take on big things. "Of course, it
takes a great deal of
preparedness, as I found out that I need even
more . . . but to find out
the limitations of both yourself and these kinds
of endeavors, one has to be
ahead of the curve."
Block said there isn't money enough to make
pursuing this challenge worth it.
"There is a much higher degree of physical
suffering in these kinds of endeavors,
that you don't find any redeeming quality for,
physically. But mentally,
what you get . . . you can't get from expensive
therapy or self-hypnosis tapes."
What is created, though, is a kind of supreme
confidence in oneself, he said.
But, having not succeeded for the first time,
there is introspection.
"Every once in a while (failing) is a good thing.
But I think that I've
had my fill and would rather just be successful
from now on."
Block will give it a shot again next year, only
alone.
"It's calling my name," he said.
RUSTY BISHOP, RUNNER
The challenge: To cross Iowa
in less than 10 days
Rusty Bishop ran across Iowa in 91/2 days,
averaging a whopping
40 miles per day, arriving in Sioux Center as
RAGBRAI was beginning July 21.
More than a week later, his body is almost fully
recovered, but his sleep
patterns are still, well, not quite normal.
"My dreams are about running and mileage," he
said last Wednesday.
In prior years, Bishop ran 150 miles across the
Sahara Desert and ran
the grueling Badwater 135 out of Death Valley in
California.
The Des Moines Amerus Group executive loves
running because
it gives him a great sense of balance in his
life. That balance, he
said, is created by keeping his body in great
physical condition and
his mind sharp and focused on his goals.
Why does he run such long distances, so long that
they punish his body?
"Running ultras (ultramarathons) or adventure
races is a way for me to
explore my own physical and mental limits," he
said. "There is an indescribable
feeling I get once I reach what I perceive are my
limitations and then I
take a step beyond. "It is a powerful moment. It
is at that point that the
parameters of my abilities are reset to a new
level until I choose to revisit
them in my next adventure."
What about dealing with pain? "I do have a very
high threshold for pain,"
Bishop said. That high tolerance, however, can
only be tapped when he
knows his efforts are benefiting someone other
than himself.
He hadn't run more than five miles at one time
before joining Team in
Training in 1996. He runs to raise awareness and
money for the Leukemia
& Lymphoma Society. "I can remember the exact
moment in each of my
last three adventures that I wanted to quit."
But because he was running for someone else, his
endorphins took over
and moved him beyond the low points. "Quitting
wasn't an option," he
said. "I believe if we have a reason to do
something more important
than we are, the human spirit can tolerate
anything."
When will his pursuits end? "Life is too short to
rest on what we have
accomplished. I will continue to test myself,
have new adventures and
create new memories."
BOB BREEDLOVE, CYCLIST
The challenge: To set a speed record crossing the
United States
Last month, Dr. Bob Breedlove, 50, of Des Moines
rode his Trek bicycle
from Los Angeles to Atlantic City in nine days,
19 hours and 47 minutes,
setting a trans-America solo bicycle crossing
record for an individual
older than 50.
He broke the previous record by nearly half a
day. He rode through
California,
Nevada, New Mexico, across a
corner of Texas and the
panhandle of Oklahoma, over Kansas,
Missouri, Illinois,
Indiana, Ohio,
West Virginia, parts of Maryland,
Pennsylvania and across New Jersey.
He wasn't always this good. Take the Register's
Annual Great Bicycle
Ride Across Iowa nearly 20 years ago, when he was
31. "In 1983, I was
the last guy in every day," Breedlove said. "It
would take me 12 hours
to go 60 or 70 miles."
"I was so bad." Then he bought a bike that fit
and in 1984, he became
"a little below average." He began looking for
longer challenges until
coast-to-coast races began to satisfy him.
This year, Breedlove wanted to be the first
50-year-old to cross the
United States in record time. Then, after the
Sept. 11 attacks, his
goal seemed trivial compared to what so many had
suffered, and
Breedlove scrapped his plans.
Upon reflection and after long conversations with
family and friends,
he decided to revive the quest as long as he
could ride with greater
purpose than breaking a record. He decided to
ride to "remember and
honor heroes that have fallen in the line of
duty," as well as those
who make the sacrifice every day, in all forms of
public service.
Starting on June 22, Breedlove rode for 20-21
hours, 300 miles each
day, averaging 15 mph on his bike. "I love being
on a bike alone and
training for it," he said. He rides 200 miles
some days. Other days
he'll ride only for an hour or so.
"I relax on a bike covering the roads of
America." He doesn't see his
endeavors as extreme. Why, then, does he pursue
such extreme
challenges? "Because it's there and I can do it.
It's my vice." Most
people "live a pretty vanilla life," he said.
They don't challenge themselves.
"You look at it as extreme, and I don't. Climbing
a mountain, now
that's extreme. "I ride long distances to test my
limits, physical
and mental. I think I punish my body less than a
two-pack-a-day
smoker or someone who is 100 pounds overweight
who can't walk
up a flight of stairs, or the person who consumes
six beers a day
seven days a week."
Breedlove's next challenge: Winning the
Paris-Brest-Paris race, a
750-mile endurance ride in France. He rode in
1987, 1991 and 1995,
but he's convinced he can win on a tandem with
the man who
mapped out his recent trans-America route. A
tandem has
never won PBP. "I wanna go and win it," Breedlove
said.
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