Will Gadd’s New Ice and Mixed Climbing Book Reviewed
The must-have book about ice and mixed climbing recently hit the shelves
John Price
Drawing inspiration from Nordic skiing and sport climbing, the second edition of Will Gadd’s Ice and Mixed Climbing advances a movement-based philosophy—one that applies both to individual pitches and to the route as a whole. No partner, Gadd insists, should remain at a belay for more than twenty minutes. Hands should feel as warm as they do while skiing uphill. Belays must be as secure as two-bolt anchors would be. Ice and mixed terrain, meanwhile, should be read as much as climbed. Provocatively, he also argues that any gear more than five years old is likely obsolete.
At its heart, Gadd’s message is that a day spent ice or mixed climbing should be as engaging and rewarding as any other form of climbing. If swinging tools evokes mostly misery, something has gone wrong. No single variable guarantees enjoyment, but mastery across many—along with a gear budget (including clothing) perhaps ten times that of sport climbing—brings a sense of achievement.
Where online tutorials and short videos have much to offer, Gadd provides a panoramic, 360-degree framework in which every detail has its place and purpose. He champions a holistic approach that values precision over bravado. The overall result is such a well-produced book as to immerse oneself free from distractions.
Ice and mixed routes are, above all, landscapes of movement. The goal is to translate frozen features into sequences that are efficient, secure, and elegant. To first order, the fitness to be found in sport climbing transfers, but the medium differs: movement here is mediated through tools, picks, and points. There is a right way to swing a pick, to kick front points, and to align the body so that balance replaces brute strength. This can be understood in kinematic terms and practised methodically, both on real routes and in training environments.
Much of that refinement, Gadd emphasises, can be developed off the ice: in the gym with specialized tools or on home-built training structures. The consummate ice and mixed climber, he argues, is always in training, on the road, in the backyard, wherever opportunity arises. Ice and Mixed Climbing is rich with practical guidance on how to sustain that discipline.
Winter, of course, introduces variables. Weather, snow pack, and avalanche hazard can shift by the hour. Gadd advises adopting a “temperature-first, objectives-second” mindset: let conditions dictate the plan. Deep cold calls for one strategy; milder (but still sub-freezing) conditions call for another. At popular weekend venues this can be easier said than done, yet thoughtful assessment, especially of avalanche risk, whose forecasts are often written for skiers rather than climbers—is essential.
Pursuing ice and mixed climbing with comfort and enjoyment in mind also carries a financial reality akin to high-end road cycling. Boots must fit flawlessly, and current designs increasingly integrate crampon points for superior precision. Tools have largely converged toward a common geometry, though specialisation persists by route type. Compromise, Gadd cautions, is rarely worth it, whether in screws, picks, or gloves. And gloves, in his view, are an obsession: one pair for climbing, another for belaying, another for rappelling, and yet another for the approach. Warm hands, always, should anchor every decision. Work backward from that dictum!
After decades of climbing frozen waterfalls and alpine faces around the world, Gadd has never taken a leader fall. You shouldn’t either. His success, he suggests, stems not from luck but from a systematic, deliberate approach—one that applies as much to life’s broader ambitions as it does to the ephemeral beauty of ice.
This review appeared in the December 2025/January 2026 issue of Gripped magazine.

