Along the Fox River, the buildings and houses squat and isolate themselves with each mile down south. An overcast places its shadows over the sparse dollar stores on the way to our destination, seemingly at the verge of tears from above but never coming. Before we arrived at the destination I was trying to gauge why they were selling that much gear for so low. A serial killer with an affliction for dirtbags? Someone in the family gave up on climbing? The girl I was supposed to meet was replaced by her fiance. He moved with haste and exchanged a few words, lifting the trunk to uncover our exchange. Relics of the past. Within this trove of nylon, metal, and books, were 2 pear shaped alloy carabiners that gleamed gold. Both alike had screw gates that when spun counterclockwise would expose their absolute territory, red meant dead. A plump rounded profile with light dimples on the underside of its basket, not from wear however but a sign of its birth from its factory.
Past the early use of carabiners (The word "carabiner" is derived from the German word "karabinerhaken," which means "spring hook with a carbine.") It's been foundational to climbing as is of braided ropes and pitons. A strong tether that binds its user to the things around it. The design has evolved in the present day to include more and more safety features in lieu of standardizations. Double gates, double or triple action , screw gates, push-ups, button, all paired with unique yet subtle changes to the shape. All of these work the same way fundamentally however their use can be more or less efficient based on the design towards its intended task. Hard steel or complex aluminum alloys whether stamped or forged are made with enough strength to hold anything it must cling to
After glazing through the 2 carabiners and skimming through a book containing local climbing routes I had to ask who's and why. Rich Stumreiter , a father and climber who had passed several years ago to the daughter who was clearing out his garage full of items. The gear he left behind was in relatively mint condition. Inside, a time capsule of vintage Mammut ropes, climbing gear when REI used to manufacture them, old harnesses with colorful designs including a full body one the size for a child, books of knots and local crags, a GriGri, chest and hand ascenders, and of course 2 gold hued Petzl attache's. There was distinct history here, enough to conjure who Stumreiter might have been. My eyes watered on the drive back trying to imagine a fathers outdoor endeavor. Thinking of the Baraboo hills, what I presume was his stomping ground, now my training ground. Before his son-in-law left, he relayed a message from Stumreiters daughter, “please get some use out of it”.
I have. I've repurposed what posed safety risks and have taken what I could secure my life to. One of them I've grown very fond of. When I began doing rope access work I was shown my workhorse, an old wood plank bosun with stained nylon webbing. The exposed back left me tense and uneasy when shifting my weight, one could easily slide out its rear if not careful. One morning I prepared a solution and tested until it became routine. As I would lower, my body suspended only by a dangling strand of rope, 2 Petzl attache's adorned on the D-rings at the hips click into the straps of nylon to grasp the plank I sit on. Screwing its course diamond shaped surface clockwise until it's warning hides behind its gate. I'm secured, I relax, I shift my weight behind me and swing and descend. My tether of safety as its once owner had relied on.