Climbing Photography By Ben Herndon

A few years ago, Herndon decided to start shooting rock climbing with his friend Craig Pope, another Moscow, Idaho local, when we came upon this sport called ice climbing. "He had started killing it on ice and it seemed like a beautiful and dynamic form of climbing," Herndon explains. "He dragged me along to Banks Lake in central Washington state during a balmy 5 degree day. It was actually kind of a traumatic first time experience. I was fumbling with all of my photo and climbing gear as I approached our first ice route when a limo-sized ice formation detached on a climb above us. We couldn't see it fall so all I heard was this enormous crash and then two-hundred pound ice blocks came rapidly pachinko-ing down the hillside at me.
"Craig, who stood safely behind a cliff ahead of me said calmly, 'You might want to run.' And I did. I was very much concerned for my safety. I actually dropped all of my camera gear and sprinted for a tree nearby stand. That's the photographer's equivalent of hucking your new born in front of an oncoming bus. I felt bad about it afterward. Needless to say, I was a little nervous about climbing that day. But events like that are pretty rare and actually haven't happened to me since."
As dangerous as ice climbing sounds, Herndon believes it's really only as dangerous as you make it. "If you read the ice well and avoid sketchy conditions such as rapidly melting ice or detached or fractured columns than you risk is much lower," he tells us. "As you build up the technique and knowledge, that goes along with repeat experience, you can jump on more technical routes with a higher margin of safety. It's not to say that steep ice is a walk in grandma's potato garden, because it's not. But like any pursuit you get more confidant with time. And honestly, what other sport do you get to use such awesome toys? You have spikes on you feet and in you hands. Plus the feeling of getting a good stick into the ice with your tools is magic."