About Us | Expedition-Logistics

About Us

Not Your Usual Dog & Pony Show

A long time ago, when I was a kid — a little kid, as opposed to the big kid I am today — my dad took my brothers and me to a book fair at school one evening. I don't remember what my brothers got, but I got a book about a curious monkey and a man in a big yellow hat, a book about life in the future, and a third one about a mountaineer.

I spent years laughing at that curious monkey. Now, as a father of three young children, my kids have spent years laughing at that curious monkey too, while I've been thinking what the man in the big yellow hat should have done a long time ago was put him on Ritalin and buy him a shock collar.

The book about what life would be like in the future was full of artists' depictions of round, saucer-like dwellings floating in midair, colorful food pellets, and flying cars. This was 1969, and, according to the book, "the future" was supposed to be coming up in something like 1990. Back then I was really excited about the flying car thing, but at this point I'm starting to lose hope.

The third book I got that night was Straight Up, by James Ramsey Ullman, the biography of John Harlin II, the American mountaineer killed on the first ascent of what would later be named the Harlin Route, on the north face of the Eiger.

I was in second grade in 1969, and many years would pass before my reading comprehension allowed me to truly appreciate a book like Straight Up. But in the interim I was soundly hooked by the 32 pages of glossy, black & white photographs hidden in the middle of that tome. Those 32 pages set into motion the dream of a boy from south Mississippi to someday stand atop a big mountain.

I can't tell you what happened to the monkey book or the goofy one about life in the future, but I still own that copy of James Ramsey Ullman's Straight Up. It sits on my bookshelf next to some old Chouinard ice screws and an old Svea 123 stove from when I first started climbing.

You're not getting any younger; no one does. We should get out sometime.

The Bone Yard (where past opening rants go to rot)

In the beginning

It all started some time ago when I set out to craft the perfect employment scam. I envisioned a situation that would spare me the contemptuous disapproval of a judgmental society through the illusion of legitimate and gainful employment, while allowing me to make a pretty handy living basically just goofing off.

I tried my hand at being a man of leisure, and then a gigolo; but one didn't pay the bills and the other was too harsh on my delicate little ego. Too stubborn — some might say slow-witted — to know when to give up (and determined to prostitute myself in one form or another), I became a climbing guide, surrounded myself with some like-minded knuckleheads, and started this here little company, instead.

The bottom line

Hey, look: we're glib, we're not politically correct or above insulting anyone if they deserve it, and we sure as hell don't take ourselves too seriously, either. Think of it as a quirky little corporate culture we're trying to spread. Feel the love, mon.

Sardonic humor aside, we actually do have a (loosely defined) corporate code that we live by (more or less, unless it's terribly inconvenient). Don't worry your pretty little heads off though, because our guiding staff takes your safety in the mountains very seriously. Sure, we have decades of safe mountaineering experience, we're unique just like everybody else, blah, blah, blah ...

Consider the pilots at Southwest Airlines: Those guys joke around all the time, and they have a whole butt-load more responsibility than we ever will (not to mention beverage service, hottie flight attendants, and an iron-fisted union).

Yeah ... as if you have anything better to do

So relax, take a break from your soul-crushing job, and peruse our humble website; all the cool kids are doing it. When you find that special expedition that fluffs your skirt, our Online Application makes signing up for your next great adventure is as easy as 1, 2, and ... um, well ... 3!

If we made it easier they’d throw a party and give us a Nobel Prize or something. And that's not a good thing, because for those of us here who suffered the polyester leisure suits back in the day, a rented tux is pretty much out of the question.

Anyway, follow the links below to learn more about our expeditions, view itineraries, pricing and dates, and to submit an Online Application.

Full disclosure

Every other guiding company's website out there seems to have an endearingly unexceptional "Why You Should Climb With Us" page. So why not check out our refreshingly original, lemon scented, Why You Shouldn't Climb With Us page instead, and read a bunch of reasons why you shouldn't ... um ... yeah, well, just check it out, ok?

While you're at it, you might as well go ahead and read The Offensive Disclaimer.

Oh, yeah ... speaking of disclaimers, did you read the scrolling banner on our homepage? No? Jeebus ... how do you people remember where you laid your car keys? Anyway, it says: "Important Notice: This Website is optimized for Microsoft Internet Explorer. If you're using Firefox or some other browser you're pretty much screwed, so don't go crying that we didn't warn you, okay? We're climbers, not brain scientists ... what did you expect?" No, it's probably not going to change any time soon.

Remember to bookmark us for future reference. Or, if your life is desperately without purpose or hope, make us your homepage.

We look forward to climbing with you — we mean it from the bottom of our little hearts. Sure it's only because we're too damn lazy to work real jobs ... but it's the thought that counts, right?

"Of the many paths you'll take in life, make sure a few of them are dirt."

Geo. Gipson, The Big Kahuna