The luggage gods are not kind. Multiple times, when traveling internationally, I've had to wait days for my luggage to catch up with me. I'm starting to get used to it—but it becomes problematic when I'm scheduled to guide clients and my gear is in airline purgatory. This was the case at the outset of a recent twelve-day trip to the Alps. Luckily, my bags arrived on the first evening as we prepared to leave for a backcountry hut. But one of our clients was not so lucky—her bag had not arrived by the time we departed. Between me and the other guide, we assembled an ample amount of climbing gear for the client. She ended up with my normal LED headlamp, and I pulled the Petzl e+lite from my first aid kit to use for myself.

This lightweight glove packs a punch for as light as it is and as well as it climbs. Had the temperatures been more normal in the Tetons this season, I probably would have squeezed more milage out of the thin Rab gloves, but global warming had most of us stripped to light sleeves—and certainly gloveless—many a day up high.

When I first heard of a new truly hydrophobic (no water absorbtion) synthetic belay parka called the Dually Belay Parka from Arc'teryx, I was sure it could not be true. We have all heard the promise before: "This synthetic insulation will keep you warm even when it's wet." The disappointment of realizing you are not warm—but in fact cold—sitting in a damp belay parka is true betrayal. This feeling goes away when you realize there is no better solution. Now there is no reason to compromise, or be wet and cold, as the Dually Belay Parka insulates while refusing to absorb water.

Anyone who has exited from the top of the Aiguille du Midi ice cave to descend the narrow ridge leading into the Vallee Blanche above Chamonix will agree: it has your full attention. To the left, the ridge drops away down the famous Frendo Spur, somewhere in the neighborhood of 4,500 vertical feet. To the right, 800 feet of 50-degree snow will drop you to the base of the Midi's south face. So as I guide two guests down the steep and exposed arete, the last thing I need is my crampons balling up. Holding the rope tight between us, I wait for just the right moment, when all's steady, to whack my boots with my axe and knock the snow from them. That's it. I am buying new crampons, I tell myself. Tying yourself to people who are seemingly trying to pull you off of your feet every other step can make the cost of a new pair of spikes seem like chump change.

I've burned through a number of different belay devices, as my climbing obsession (and job) lead to unremitting use of these tools from March to November. I chose to test the Wild Country VC Pro because of its seemingly simple but effective design. This piece is an update from the VC belay device that has been on the shelves since the late 1980s. The classic version was a long-standing, standard device; the new VC Pro has big pitbull teeth on one side that allow for better bite with thin ropes. More importantly, it has all four hallmarks I insist on: smooth handling, effortless rappelling, secure holding and a simple design.

Guided clients demand a higher level of safety and preparation than you might find in a recreational group. Part of being safe is keeping your packs lean without skimping on necessary safety gear. While guiding I often need a satellite or cell phone to schedule pick-ups with my bush pilot, check weather, or communicate in emergencies. Over the years, I have started to use a small solar panel to charge my phone, allowing me to get through a long trip with a single lightweight battery.

The newly designed Black Diamond nForce ascenders were a crucial piece of gear for my main climbing project this summer. Using static and dynamic fixed lines from 8-11 millimeters, my partner and I spent about ten days working on a first ascent, free, on the east face of Snowpatch Spire in the Bugaboos. Although the face itself rises 2,000 feet, we ascended an estimated 3,000' of fixed lines, equipping belay stations, scrubbing cracks, and rehearsing the crux pitches that, unfortunately, are still resisting our redpoint attempts.

The search for the perfect multi-season jacket is exasperating—it has to perform well in various temperatures and conditions yet pack well, weigh nothing and (most importantly) look good. So you can imagine my excitement when I found a lightweight, durable shell that lived up to all my expectations. I found Mountain Hardwear's Women's Typhoon Jacket to be the perfect merger of fashion, function, and price. Weighing in at thirteen ounces and sporting a reasonable retail price of $199, its design and color options add a sense of style that rounds out this performance garment.

Sometimes first impressions are hard to shake, and I tried not to let my first impression of the Rab Neutrino Endurance jacket influence this review. No luck. The jacket wowed me at first appearance. Made from a water-resistant Pertex Endurance outer fabric and packed with 850+ goose down fill, it's an alpinist's dream come true: maximum warmth to weight ratio in a lightweight, weatherproof package.

I'll admit it: I've got a small head. As a result, I've spent the past few years bouncing between glasses that slide down the bridge of my nose, frames that feel like a loose, dead handshake, and cheapos bought shamefully from the children's aisle. So, when Julbo asked me to pick one pair of mountaineering glasses to test, I chose the Neve, a pair of glasses designed with Alti-Spectron X6 lenses for small heads, and, yes, women.

My go-to approach shoe for three years has been the La Sportiva Exum Ridge. Sturdy yet nimble, stealthy enough for talus-hopping but rugged enough to endure all the missteps that result in abrasion, the shoe has held tough for me through three summers in the Tetons without blowing out or debilating the tread. It's a tough benchmark to beat.

More than any piece of rock gear I've seen advertised over the past few years, I wanted to hate these Omega Pacific Link Cams. All those moving parts and the inevitable dumbing-down of racking-up brought out the Luddite in me. And the cost—about $100 a pop—seemed prohibitive, and the weight...

When you hear the name "Monster," it may conjure visions of a huge, ugly beast. Or for all you movie buffs it might bring a horrifying vision of Charlize Theron and Christina Ricci. Scary. Luckily, when I hear the name "Monster," I associate it with Metolius' climbing rope line—burly and strong.

Let's begin with an understanding. If given the choice either to snowshoe or ski on an approach, I am going to pick skis every time. When guiding on Denali, however, I find that the combination of people's varied ski skills, and the fact that we are schlepping huge loads up the Kahiltna Glacier, makes snowshoes the right choice.

I was looking forward to getting a set of Black Diamond's new C3 cams since I first saw the prototypes, and when I did, they were everything I expected them to be. They've been on my rack for a year now, and have been put to the test in just about every condition imaginable. From the misty summit of Torre Egger to a first ascent on Mt. Alberta; from greasy Squamish finger splitters to Bugaboo wall routes; and from overhanging quartzite trad routes at the back of Lake Louise to the mixed desperates of the Icefield Parkway, these cams have served me well. Despite the abuse, they're still working like new. They've held my repeated whippers, inspired the confidence I need when it comes time to run it out, and have shaved precious grams off the weight I've carried.