The arm test

How many times have you sunk a pick into turf, thin ice or a flat edge and then frozen, unsure if it would hold? Quite a few. And how many times have you trusted something poor, only for your feet to cut loose, leaving you locked off and praying it stays in? Probably that too.

When we free climb, our fingers tell us instantly if something will hold. The signal is direct. Touch the crimp. The brain knows.

With winter and aid climbing, that link is broken. There’s a barrier between you and the hold: an axe, a peg, a hook. The thing you want to grip can’t be gripped. Ice. Snow. Edges too small to hang. So instead you rely on physics, judgement, and experience.

A non-climber would trust a pick hooked over a metal bar on a climbing frame. They understand that if they pull, it won’t unhook itself. Ask them to hook a tree and they hesitate. They know wood is soft enough to penetrate, but they don’t know how deep the pick must bite to hold.

An ice climber builds that knowledge slowly. Overdriving picks. Testing turf. Learning how much depth is enough. It’s a mix of understanding the tool and understanding the medium. On mixed ground, a tool torqued at 45 degrees will often hold. At 15 degrees, maybe not.

Over time, you learn what’s possible.

We don’t learn what we can crimp. We just know. But with tools and gear, we have to build that knowledge piece by piece.

So what if you don’t know? You’re pushing your limit. You’re on the Ben, climbing ice two inches thick when you’ve only ever climbed fat neve. Or you’re about to pull on a flat edge when you’ve only hooked big flakes before.

In aid climbing, when you’re unsure and the consequences are serious, you bounce test the gear. Clip in. Apply full body weight. It proves the placement. More importantly, it tells your brain to relax.

The same approach works in winter climbing.

You don’t have daisies. You have your arms.

Place the tool. If you need to know, give it hard, committed tugs.

This takes practice. You must test in a way that if it rips, you won’t. Keep your feet solid. Stay balanced. Expect failure.

And get your head right. Think: I want to rip this pick out. Not: Please don’t rip.

Used well, this technique lets you push your limits safely. Overuse it and you’ll climb too slowly and burn your arms. Like everything, it’s a tool. Use it with intent.