Bozeman, Mont.

The ice was steep, but I didn't think twice about heading up the frozen cascade. The swings were harder than I expected. Once, twice, three times—still no stick. Four swings to securely place an ice tool quickly takes its toll on your forearms. Smashing away with one arm, I could feel the other arm weakening, the one holding the firmly planted tool—the only thing between me and gravity's awful tug.

I...