Twisted pro
Seven ice screws run through the rotation
With a sinking heart, I realized that my friend Bill was about to break the cardinal rule of leading ice. He’d motored through the steep crux of the pillar like a frenzied wind-up toy, opting not to break his rhythm or squander precious energy placing protection. Now, however, mere inches from topping out, his spring had wound down. From my belay on the canyon floor, I cringed helplessly at the telltale signs of impending disaster: His axes glanced heavily off the ice and his crampons kicked ineffectually at the same spot over and over again. Then his knees buckled and he was falling.
With a horrified fascination, I watch as Bill spilled down like the contents of an overturned knife drawer, ice tools whirling, crampons flailing as he accelerated toward me. I did what my belaying instincts commanded: I took off running. My mad dash for self-preservation probably saved both our lives, since the extra slack I sucked through Bill’s last screw midway up the 80-foot pillar was just enough to keep him from decking.
Despite the happy ending, that was no way to protect the ice-climbing quarterback. I still can’t believe that the screw held such a massive fall, or that tethered to so much lethal cutlery, Bill didn’t gut himself. Running it out on vertical ice is a bold gamble, but one that many leaders have opted for over the years because historically, placing protection on steep ice was so time- and labor-intensive that it often increased the likelihood of burning out and/or falling off. In recent years, however, screw technology has improved to the point that protection can now be placed one-handed, in a matter of seconds (not minutes), and removed with equal ease.
However, not all climbers need or can afford such high-tech wizardry. For example, a climber might be persuaded to drop half a grand for an arsenal of top-of-the-line ice pro, but if ledgy, WI 3 routes will be the primary arena, the ice might not be the only thing getting screwed. So which screws deserve a turn on your rack? To compare and evaluate the various designs, we collected the premier screws offered by seven manufacturers and gave them a rigorous shakedown on the frozen waterfalls along the North Shore of Lake Superior, a region in northern Minnesota that sports a six-month ice season and where conditions are notoriously hard and brittle. Here’s what we learned from all our screwing around.
Totally tubular. The earliest forms of ice protection were stake-like ice pitons that tended to fall out once a climber moved past them. Then came rudimentary screws made of coat hanger-like wire that didn’t hold much, but at least stayed put. Seeking the best of both worlds (i.e. something that could actually arrest a fall), the screwmongers finally hit upon the concept of using hollow, threaded tubes. This strong, secure design has become the norm. In fact, on the surface, major differences between the ice screws currently on the market may be hard to discern. For example, chrome-moly steel — an extremely strong alloy used in aircraft construction — is the material favored by most manufacturers. As a result, most screws have a similar profile and diameter (averaging around 17mm). The exceptions are the Cassin Thunderlight screw, which is a composite of metals (steel teeth melded to an aluminum tube), and the Ultimate titanium screw made by Ushba. Both of these screws are significantly lighter than their steel counterparts, but they are also larger in cross section, meaning they displace more ice — a factor that made them harder to place. (Although in very soft ice or neve a larger diameter will provide better holding power.) Another point of uniformity across brands is length: All the manufacturers offer a range of sizes (anywhere from two to five choices) from as short as nine centimeters (Charlet Moser) up to as long as 23 centimeters (Ushba). Because medium length screws are the most popular and versatile, the screws we tested were all in the 16- to 18-centimeter range. Beyond these fundamental similarities, however, we found subtle design differences that directly affected how these screws performed in ice.
Let’s do the twist. The ideal screw should have sharp, penetrating teeth that cut — rather than shatter — the ice, allowing it to be started with a firm stab and only a couple turns of the wrist. Once the threads are engaged, the screw should motor in without a lot of binding and torqueing. To this end, some manufacturers have incorporated tiny knobs or “coffeegrinder” handles to help you drive in the screw. The ergonomics of these speed-drive features can’t be beat for rapid, continuous screw-in. The folding wire handle on the Grivel 360° screw adds yet another dimension of ease by providing additional, significant leverage. Although screws without such gadgetry may seem at a disadvantage in terms of ease of placement, good engineering can more than compensate. For example, Stubai’s Sigma screw has such a glove-friendly hanger and a tube design that generates so little friction in the ice that it actually goes in more easily than some of the speed-drive equipped screws.
The ideal screw hanger should offer as much clearance as possible in and around ice texture so that the leader doesn’t have to chop a heliport to sink the screw flush to the hanger. The hanger should also adjust to different angles and texture, lying against the ice rather than sticking out into space. Finally, a leader has to be concerned with clean, easy racking: Screws that nestle together like old lovers, don’t tangle with other screws or webbing, and/or use some kind of color-coding for fast and easy identification earned points with us.
Out, out, damn screw! A superior screw is one that takes pity upon me when it’s my turn to remove it. (After all, I’m going to need all my strength to lead the next pitch.) Thankfully, the days of desperately clinging to one axe while excavating a screw that the leader has sunk eye-deep in a tight corner are a dim memory — at least with these screw-in designs. A screw should extract with little friction, no binding, and have a hanger or handle that facilitates rapid rotation. Initially, a screw may need to be cracked loose with a tap from a tool, but an axe should not be required to keep the screw turning. Once the screw is out, the ice core should come out easily — the screw is useless until this plug is cleaned out. With the best screws, a few taps on the head and/or a good puff of air into the sharp end (it’s generally easier to keep ice moving through the screw via the same direction it went in) usually suffice. In this respect, the best-performing screws are those that have been honed internally to remove any rifling in the bore. Some experienced ice climbers coat the insides of their screws with a shot of waterproofing spray (e.g. Tectron) or a petroleum lubricant like WD-40 to grease the skids. These kinds of treatments can keep even the most constipated screws clog-free, but there’s still no substitute for a design that performs well from the get-go.