These are the bigger shows for Europe.  Stay tuned because we will be adding more stops.  Check here for ticket and venue information.

I will be at all the shows but Gents so come party with me. – Jeremy Jones

Mt Francois. I think it has only been climbed once.  Doug Stoup sat in a storm for 3 weeks trying to get it.

We set our site on the smallest thing I could find that we could get to, had limited ice danger and a clean out run.  You can see our objective in the far edge of the photo.  It is really hard to make a call like this with very little info.  It is a roll of the dice that sets a crew of 8 in motion and will use up the better part of the day.

We learned on our first day that we want to be on faces that get at least 5 hours of light and that we want to be dropping in just before the face goes into the shade.  Too early and the face is hard.  Too late and it will refreeze with in ten minutes of the sun leaving the face.  You can see the triangle we want to ride.  We had know idea if the bergschrund was clean or if the glacier was navigable.

“Pic a spot, any spot” I kept telling myself.  It was all epic.

3 hours into our mission we have confirmation that it goes clean.  It looks super steep, which means it is even steeper.  We are really freaked out if this is going to be ride-able or not.  Conditions will have to be perfect, not to soft, not to hard to hit something like this.  To get to the face we start on the far left side and traverse just under the bergschrund so we do not have any seracs above us.

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One of the scariest parts is strapping in on a steep face like this.  The bottom 1/3 is the steepest part but the snow is perfect and I am able to drop into this face with total confidence and fire a line that two hours ago had me shaking in my boots. That is the benefit of climbing what you ride. pic Xavier.

Xavier and were finally rewarded for all the time we put in last spring in Chamonix.  With out that session we would not be so locked in here.  In my wildest dreams I could not have imagined riding a face this sick in Antarctica.  It is one for the top of the trophy case.

Sixty two hours of rolling and rocking threw the Drake Passage are behind us and off the bow of the ship I see the first sign of land. It is amazing to think that one of earths seven continents did not feel the footsteps of humans until the 1820’s. Imagine something the size of North America hidden at the bottom of the earth, the last great unknown in our world.

Up on the bridge there is an air of intensity and focus that has not been on the face of the captian all crossing. It is clear we are dealing with an ocean that is constantly on the move. Ice is the king down here and it leaves everyone on there toes. No, radar, computer or GPS can help us navigate the ice and one wrong move will lead to being closed in by the ice and trapped in ice.  (The only other ship down has been stuck in ice for 8 days and there is no end in site) The radars are firing but the spotters spend very little time on the computer screen. It is the binoculars that lead the way.

My first impression of Antarctica greatly surpasses my wildest imagination. It is a winter fantasy land. The bleached white peaks and the deep blew ocean waters make for a sharp contrast. With in minutes ripable lines appear in every direction. The place is stacked with every type of terrain imaginable; spines, chutes, towers, rolling glaciers, and huge seracs. Everything goes.

Six days after leaving Truckee I finally arrive.  Before I even touch land, as we scope for a place to land, (this is very hard because most of the land ends in seracs) and I realize this is one of the most unique mountain experiences I have ever had. We set out for a “small” and “Mellow” warm up run that upon closer look was big and not mellow. I was so mesmerized by my surroundings that I did not totally comprehend the seriousness of the terrain until I was gliding over my first blind roll of the year. It brought back to memories of my trip to Chamonix last June.  Quickly I grabbed my axe, and it never left my hands for the rest of the day.

Steep, firm and smooth. Everything is steeper and bigger then it looks and many of the cruxes are a few hundred feet above water. Safety never fully came until your were back in the boat. Tonight was topped off with a cruise down a channel that was lined with pink and purple peaks. Some whales led the way and an occasional Penguin saluted us from the passing icebergs. It took all of a one day for Antarctica to cast a magic spell on me.

Antarctica is serious riding.  Thankfully I was with Xavier De le Rue, one of the most dialed riders in the world for charging critical terrain.

Our “warm up run” was a 1500 ft steep face with a 50+ degree rollover.  I was warmed up at the bottom.

We rode the open face in front. It looks small because the peaks behind it are huge. We rode this all the way to the water to the right.  The bottom roll was super steep and a fall would me a swim in the coldest ocean in the world.

One picture…four “Trophy Lines.” The face behind the line we rode.  The knob to the right, the 200 ft bowl of spines right of that and the 2500 ft. thumb at the far right of the picture.

“Pick a spot…any spot,” I kept saying to myself.  I have never seen so much ripable terrain stacked together so tightly.

Sunsets lasts for 5 hours.  It never went totally dark on us.