Plus, AMA answers and the new Free Wall Kit. ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌

NO.11

THE OBJECTIVE
FIX AND FOLLOW

Josh Wharton is one of America’s top—if not the top—all-around climbers. These days, you don’t hear his name much because he’s a complete social-media Luddite. Instead of scrolling, Josh uses his intelligence and free time to think more deeply than almost anyone I know about all aspects of our sport, from product design to culture to—most relevant here—climbing systems. I’ve known Josh for decades, and I’d describe my relationship with him as delightfully combative. We did a few big trips together 10 years ago, and when we both lived in Estes Park, we trained together on occasion. The conversations were always as engaging as the climbing. He doesn’t hold back his criticism, and questions almost everything that comes out of my mouth. It’s a quality I find both aggravating and deeply admirable. When I’m questioning something, I often think, “What would Josh Wharton say?” And more often than not, that puts me on a better track. For this month’s newsletter, Josh, Jane and I sat down for a deep dive into fix and follow—a technique that’s created a cult-like following, with Josh as its mysterious and reluctant leader. I’ve been looking forward to this conversation for a while, as I was initially pretty skeptical of the fix and follow craze, but recently, I have found myself coming back to it more and more. Fix and follow is polarizing. People either love it or hate it, and chances are, if you’ve heard of it, you’ll definitely have something to say about it.
Josh’s partner Harrison Teuber mini-traxing up below him. Keeler Needle, California. Photo: Josh Wharton
Josh started using this technique long before it had a catchy name, which he attributes to Mikey Schaefer. The story begins when Josh was trying the Hallucinogen Wall in the Black Canyon 10 years ago. In the old days, it was common practice in big-wall free climbing to enlist a partner to jug behind you on hard projects. Josh felt bad about the imbalance of the experience, where he got to climb every pitch as the leader while his enlisted friends had to jug with a pack, which was way less fun. He realized that the follower could actually climb behind using rope-soloing techniques, or Mini Traxioning. That way, the ascent felt a lot more collaborative, while still allowing him time to rest at the belay without messing with the rope. When we spoke recently, Josh said this was “the best idea I ever had in climbing by a long shot,” and wagered that this style has changed his own climbing and other people’s climbing more than anything else he’s thought of. My biggest hang-up with following multipitches on mini-trax has always been about ethics. It’s way easier to accidentally sag on the rope a bit while mini-traxing, when you need to reverse a move or step down, for example. This is problematic in my mind when trying to onsight or team-free a long route. Josh, of course, had some workarounds here (advanced techniques that we won’t go into). He also pointed out that a lot of the beauty of climbing is that we can all make our own rules, using the example of bouldering with a rope. Josh explains, “I do a lot of Mini Traxion bouldering these days since my knees are so old, but I don’t use a tether when I’m going to actually send the problem. Without the tether, the micro is dangling off the bottom of my belay loop so that I can’t cheat any move.” Other people argue that fix and follow ruins the connection between climbing partners. As the leader, you suddenly aren’t invested in your follower’s progress on the pitch and are instead taking care of your own needs, which skeptics feel is selfish and takes away from the partnership. Josh feels differently. He described a particular ascent in the Verdon Gorge, when, as he and his partner sat atop the route and recounted the day, he realized how special it was that neither of them really knew how the climb went for the other. They were each able to have their own personal experience, together but separate, which to Josh felt soulful and special in a way that a traditional multipitch does not. In fixing and following, it’s just you, the follower, against the moves, with only yourself to witness how it goes. Some have even said that mini-traxing is the purest form of climbing, second only to free soloing. Perhaps it’s true? Safety is the next can of worms that really riles up the skeptics, who claim fixing and following is more dangerous than traditional multipitch climbing. But in some ways, Josh argues, fix and follow is actually safer than belaying, especially in rambling, alpine terrain where a fall with a big loop of slack in the rope can result in slamming into a ledge. If the follower is mini-traxing, though, there is never a loop of slack, and they’re never waiting for the belayer to take up rope, or fighting against an accidental way-too-tight “birthday belay.” Fair enough, but eliminating the human element on one end of the system makes for more opportunities for user error on the other end. The follower is completely responsible for their own safety in this configuration, with more changeovers that provide opportunities to accidentally become unclipped from the anchor. The other big concern that people have is the fact that this configuration is not a closed system. If you’re used to normal multipitch climbing, it can feel pretty unnerving to commit to having the end of the rope dangling below you all the time, and if the belayer is inattentive, they can theoretically belay the leader off the end of the rope! But even Jane, a self-proclaimed Nervous Nelly at times, agreed that you can get used to this system as a safety-conscious climber if the follower always uses multiple devices for redundancy and has a tether for clipping into an anchor. After using this technique a bit more, it has definitely become a tool in my toolbox. Yes, there are still opportunities to “dab” and cheat, and sure, there are some safety concerns that come with adopting a new system. It’s all about what kind of experience you want to have on the wall. For me, this means that when I’m using this technique, I want to be really honest with myself when counting a mini-traxed pitch as a send. Overall, it comes down to efficiency and fun, which the fix and follow technique definitely provides, when done correctly.

THE TICK LIST > >
• | Your Lead: Calling your representatives works. Here’s a resource that makes it easier to ensure your voice is heard.
• | Rappelling is so passé.
• | Thanks, Mad, for some honest reflection. Let’s see more of this.
• | First 5.15 trad?! And it is splitter.
• | The Portable prank went a little too far.
• | Love this for Chris Sharma.
• | Don’t miss these films!
• | Wow, a hospitality executive to run the Park Service?

OFF ROUTE
ANSWERS TO THE AMA

A few months ago, we asked you to send questions for Tommy. We got so many great ones, it was hard to decide which questions to include. Here are the much-anticipated answers to our favorites. Get some popcorn, it’s story time. What’s the most sandbagged you’ve ever been? This one actually happened pretty recently. I should point out that it was a completely unintentional sandbag. I was climbing in Cochamó with Seán Villanueva O’Driscoll, and he casually suggested we try to free a route he had attempted about 10 years earlier with a random partner he’d met that same morning. It was a 10-pitch route, with one or two pitches supposedly around 5.13. I’ve done hundreds of routes that, by the numbers, are harder, so I figured it couldn’t be too bad. It turns out we spent three days desperately clawing dirt out of bottoming cracks, only occasionally finding placements for small RPs or micro cams. There were two sections where you had to fully cut loose and dyno for tree limbs. One pitch alone took an entire day. After fighting my way up the pitch for hours, I reached the belay just as dusk was setting in.
Perhaps unintuitively, there is really nothing reassuring about the term “anchor nest.” Photo: Seán Villanueva O’Driscoll
I knew we’d have to sleep there, but there was no good place for an anchor. We scraped dirt out of the cracks for several hours and eventually managed to slot in eleven pieces of marginal gear. Even then, the anchor inspired zero confidence. I spent another hour digging a pebble out of a crack and finally got in one decent cam. All the while, Seán—who seemed completely unstressed—whistled Star Wars tunes and played traditional Chilean songs on his tin whistle. When we finally topped out two days later, I kissed the ground and thanked the heavens that we were still alive.
Seán’s second sandbag of the trip. Photo: Austin Siadak
What was your worst bivy? This one was with the star of another section of this newsletter, Josh Wharton, on our first trip together. I was mostly a fair-weather rock climber at the time. Josh, on the other hand, was already one of the most badass alpinists in the world. We were in Patagonia, and during a marginal weather window we decided to try an ice route called Exocet on Cerro Standhardt. As we approached the mountain, it became clear that it was too warm and the ice was running with water. With only one set of cams, we decided to switch plans and climb an adjacent rock route instead. We moved so fast that we reached the summit in the middle of the day—with tons of daylight left, but zero bivy gear and no warm clothes. We figured we might as well keep going and try the Torre Traverse. But when we rappelled into the col between Standhardt and Torre Egger, we realized the next section was completely wet. By then we were out of food, but we decided to sit it out on a ledge, hoping the water would stop running. We chopped a small ice ledge and settled in for the night. The water never stopped. We sat there all night, damp, doing deep knee bends over and over just to keep from freezing to death. As the short weather window closed, the wind picked up, and by morning we were on the verge of hypothermia. When the sun came up, we threw in the towel, rappelled a 2,000-foot wall and bailed back to camp. It was the coldest night of my life—except for all the nights in Kyrgyzstan, which I put in a completely different category. Favorite and worst bivy food? Low hassle is usually my strategy: Clif Bars, trail mix, dried fruit, cheese. The Dawn Wall was an exception. It took so long that I figured we needed to keep nutrition high, so we ended up hauling Patagonia Provisions salmon, kale, hard-boiled eggs and avocados up the wall. My all-time favorite backcountry food was probably a giant stick of elk sausage. Topher Donahue had shot the animal with a bow and brought the bounty along on the Zodiac during one of our attempts. The worst was a time I topped out on El Capitan and got stuck up there an extra day with no food. Climbers sometimes stash cans under boulders at the top so they don’t have to carry them down. I’ve spent many days surviving on unlabeled cans of food. One time, the only thing I could find was a box of mac and cheese that had clearly been nibbled on by a rat. I didn’t have a stove, so I dumped the pasta and cheese mix into my water bottle, let it soak, and shook it up. Turns out soaked pasta is very different from cooked pasta. What’s your favorite tree? Since moving to the Sierra, I’ve become fascinated by the old-growth trees around Tahoe. My favorite is probably the western juniper. I’ve seen some incredible ones on Maggie’s Peak, and I’ve even found myself heading out on missions where the primary objective is just hunting for cool trees. Do you miss your finger? Ha. That one’s pretty funny. Not in a nostalgic way. The time I notice it most is actually indoor bouldering. So, I suppose when I’m feeling particularly competitive with Alex Honnold, I sometimes think that if I still had it, I’d have a better chance of outperforming him. That would make me happy. Are there climbs you’ve never seen in person but have always wanted to try? Probably hundreds. At the top of the list right now are Tough Enough in Madagascar, and either the South African Route or Riders on the Storm on the Central Tower of Paine. What’s the hardest part of training for something big, and how do you navigate it? These days, it’s simply finding the time. Between spending time with my family, activism work and the fact that the kind of climbing I’m most interested in now involves massive endurance days—and therefore long training hours—it’s hard to fit everything in. How do I manage it? Poorly. Hand jammies or tape? Socks with rock shoes? Last time you placed a Tricam? I chose this one because the answers might surprise some people. Definitely hand jammies these days—they’ve gotten really good. I wear socks with my rock shoes when alpine climbing in cold conditions. And I still own a set of Tricams, which I bring when trying to protect limestone routes or climbs with lots of pockets. Tricams were my dad’s favorite piece of gear. I guess some of that stuck with me. Is there anything better than the TC Pro for granite climbing? How much do you downsize? I’m admittedly biased here. The shoe was designed specifically for my needs, with input only from me and the designers. So, of course, I don’t think there’s anything better for granite! This also means they fit my foot perfectly, so I don’t really find myself downsizing. Most companies have tried to imitate it, but none have come close. I’ve even had partners sponsored by other brands switch to TC Pros for joint projects. If that’s not a good testimonial, I don’t know what is.

THE LATEST FROM PATAGONIA CLIMB

Introducing the Free Wall Kit: Six pieces to help you rest hard and climb harder on the most sustained multipitch objectives. The idea to focus on fix and follow this month came from the launch of the new Free Wall Kit, which Josh Wharton played a major role in developing. “The kit allows you to layer up or down seamlessly while on route, even at hanging belays,” Josh said. “This means you can ‘armor up’ for a long, cold belay, but quickly shed layers and get them into the pack easily when it’s your turn to climb.” The Free Wall Pack was specifically designed for Josh’s style of lightweight hauling on done-in-a-day objectives, and he is pretty psyched on how it turned out. “The intentional functionality of the Free Wall Pack is incredible for recovery on route. The semi-rigid wide-mouth opening combined with the bright internal color makes it easy to locate items inside the pack. The gear loops and color-coded pockets make it simple to find snacks and water bottle. The loops on the bottom of the pack are a great place for clipping off approach shoes, which increases the likelihood that I’ll take a break from rock shoes on route.”
Explore the Kit

| Have something to add? Just want to tell us we’re doing a great job? ;) We’d love to hear from you. Send your feedback, ideas and anything else (within reason!) to routefinding@patagonia.com. And if you have a friend you think would enjoy this newsletter, forward this one to them and make sure they sign up here to receive future sends. |

Masthead: Tommy Caldwell works the crux pitch of the Dawn Wall, a 5.14d traverse 15 pitches off the deck. Photo: Jeff Johnson

Patagonia Customer Service 8550 White Fir St Reno, NV 89523 | Help Center
Email Preferences This email was sent to xxx@ureader.com Update My Preferences |
| © 2026 Patagonia, Inc.