This week on the Mountain Gazette Library -
Los Chicos de Gehry by Kade Krichko
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Mountain Gazette Library
Los Chicos de Gehry by Kade Krichko
Hello and welcome back to the mountain gazette library. I'm John Booster and this week join us as we scale the heights of the Los Chico Steggetti, the daring team maintaining the iconic Guggenheim Museum. Mountain Gazette Library is proudly presented by Steel, designed, developed and tested at the base of the Tetons in Jackson, Hawaii. The trail was founded to inspire connection with the outdoors through premium technical apparel, for the epic and everyday. Learn more at steo.com, stio.com, steel, let the outside in. The mountain gazette library is proudly presented by Gordini. Based in Vermont and family, Ron, Gordini has focused on the same mission since 1956 to keep you outside longer. Our gloves, socks and goggles aren't merely accessories, they are critical pieces of equipment that are built to last season after season. We take our commitment to people and the planet seriously and build that into every detail. From introducing the first ever down mitts to knitting quilted dual layer socks, innovation is always done in the spirit of progress. Learn more about what drives our passions and products at gordini.com, g-o-r-d-i-n-i.com. Mountain Gazette Library is also proudly presented by Visit Idaho and Visit Sun Valley. Discover where adventure meets style in Sun Valley, Idaho. Welcome to America's pioneering mountain town that veers off the beaten path. Explore five distinct mountain races, over 200 miles of single-tracked mountain biking trails, a myriad of five fishing waters, exciting events, and inviting dining options. Find your summer escape at visit sunvalley.com. Los Chico Stigeti, topping out with the Guggenheims professional climbing team, written by Cade Creachko for mountain gazette 197. Frank Gary, newbie by all, was a city of the sea. After all, the Spanish enclave was once home to Europe's most excellent iron and shipbuilding centers, and one of the largest ports on the continent. Those days, they had faded when Gary entered the scene in the early 1990s. Still, when the renowned Canadian-American architect began designing the Guggenheim Museum in the aging industrial hub of the Spanish Basque Country, he infused the region's maritime history into every facet of his masterpiece. The museum rests along the Nervion River, the city's spiritual and economic link to the ocean. Its immense curving arms emulate the boughs of ships and crashing surf. Titanium tiles cover the building's exterior, mimicking the scales of a fish. When it rains, as it often does in Basque Country, they shimmer rather than rust. The Guggenheim opened its doors in 1997, putting be by all back on the global map. The project kickstarted an urban rehabilitation movement that, over the next two decades, transformed the city into a center of modern architecture and art. The Guggenheim effect is now taught in university classes on urban planning. For Gary, the building was an homage to a local culture carved by centuries of ocean tides. But he never could have imagined that maintaining that legacy and his undulating architecture would rest not in the hands of seafaring Biayinos, but rather with the city's mountain community and a group of local climbers. Yulinde Kalima is used to exposure. The 43-year-old has lived most of his life attached to a climbing rope, first as a teenager in the hometown hills near Biayao. And later chasing big walls in Basque Country's Urkyola Mountains and the nearby Pyrenees, he describes himself as "a mountain addict, a man whose happiness is measured in climbing grades in a constant pulse of adrenaline." Though cut from the same vertical-minded cloth as the original dirt bags of Squamish or Smith Rock, Dekelema has channeled his passion into an unlikely career path, a mountain near employed by a modern art museum. Known as the Chico Stegeri, or Gary's Boys, Dekelema and a specialized crew of urban mountaineers spend their days climbing up, repelling down, and hanging off the Guggenheim Museum. Tackling the buildings unorthodox construction, they use skills developed over the years in the mountains to complete maintenance, cleaning, and construction while the world passes below them. With myriad nooks, cracks, and angles, the Guggenheim is one of the planet's most unique climbing problems, a logistical nightmare for cleaning machinery and elevator-assisted maintenance. But for the Chico's, it's a labor of love transferred from rock, ice, and earth to the museum's glass, concrete, and shimmering titanium. "I think the museum's staff thinks I'm a bit of a freak because I'm so excited about climbing different parts of the building," says Dekelema, "but then again, climbing is my job." Despite its proximity to the sea, Gary never realized that Bebeau is a mountain town, or perhaps better stated, a village of mountain people. The city has given birth to a series of mountaineering clubs since 1912, multi-generational bodies that organize everything from children's hikes to Everest expeditions. The Greater Bosque region is home to legendary alpinists like Juanito Oyarazabal, Juanjos and Sebastian, and Idenane Passaban, the first woman to climb all 14 of the world's 8,000 meter peaks. Many like San Sebastian and Jose Carlos Tamayo, called Bebeau home, the city even hosts its mountain film festival. Two hours to the east or west of town, you will find yourself in the Pyrenees, or the Pecos de Europa, a coastal range considered by many to be the Yosemite of Europe due to its massive walls and sheer relief. But closer to home, two smaller ranges envelop the city, giving B.I.A. in those access in every direction. Mountains are part of the fabric here, and a day spent walking uphill is often a family affair. Go to Sunday Mass and you'll likely find half the cathedral dressed in hiking pants muttering the Ave Maria before heading out to another kind of church. The Mountain is a cultural concept in Basque Country, says Aithara Dwayne, the press officer for Bebeau's Mindy Film Festival, a mountain-centric gathering akin to banks. The Basque way of being is closely linked to nature, and the love of outdoor activities is immense. It all comes together through mountain culture, a concept deeply rooted in our homeland. This is the community in which De Calima grew up, raised just outside Bebeau. He spent weekends in the nearby hills with his family. When he was about 17, he discovered climbing through a group of friends, initially linking up sports routes, then venturing into multi-pitch trad climbing and bouldering. Soon, he was ice climbing and skiing. In the summer he took up trail running, anything that kept him elevated. Then came college and a job in a factory, but the monotony of traditional working life soon wore on him, and before he turned 22, he knew it was time for a change. "I decided I needed a job that aligned with my passions," he explains. "That's where the Guggenheim came in. For Rovial, an international construction and maintenance company based in Spain was in charge of the building's upkeep and sought out a team of youngsters who were comfortable scaling different structures and working with various materials at extreme heights. Presenting himself as a lifelong climber, De Calima was hired on the spot. He remembers his first job with the new company, scaling and repainting the museum's 180-foot tower. Repair work eventually included general maintenance, and the Chico grew to around 8 full-time employees. Before the rest of the city can sip their first café con leche, the Chico's are already claiming vertical feet, starting their day at 7 a.m. to get a jump on the museum rush. Workdays typically begin with a team meeting and a division of tasks, then move to objectives inside the building while its entrances are still closed. Using quick draws, ropes, carabiners, and auto-blaze, the Chico's make their way up and then down the Guggenheim's internal scaffolding. Checking windows and checking for structural damage while monitoring a conglomeration of metal, glass, and concrete for future repairs. When maintenance moves outside, the team tackles the building's massive exterior, checking for loose or aging titanium and cleaning and polishing the curving edifice while repelling toward the river below. By 2.30 p.m., the Chico's call it a day, giving De Calima time to link up a sports route or get a mountain run in with his son before dinner. One extra time is an invaluable perk of the job, according to De Calima, a chance to continue training and spend more hours with his family doing the things they love, often in the alpine. "We're not soccer people," he admits, "in my house, we breathe mountains. That's what we like. That's what we do." Despite what it may look like to the casual passerby, the Guggenheim operation isn't as cowboy as when De Calima was first contracted. Nowadays, in addition to climbing experience, team members are required to have Iradas certification, a globally standardized safety certification for rope work technicians. They even 20 years into the job, De Calima says he's continually learning and collaborating. And that collaboration doesn't stop with this team. Often it's with the artists themselves, working with creatives to hang and mount exhibitions with near-laser precision. Because the Chico's can access the hard-to-navigate corners of the building, they frequently work hand-in-hand with artists like Brazilian Maestro Ernesto NATO, dangling from ropes and finding safe anger points for large, unwieldy exhibitions. In 2014, NATO's "The Body That Carries Me" exhibition spanned three floors, winding and twisting through the museum's atrium, before expanding into a maze of colorful woven nets hung from the second floor ceiling. For the Chico's, that meant hours of labor to bring the artist's vision to life. It's a challenge De Calima never thought he'd enjoy, but something in which he's learned to take immense pride. "We've done so many jobs for different artists," explains the Guggenheim veteran. "It's super complicated, but enjoyable. You have to think all the time about how to adapt the pieces to the space and work with artists who demand a certain production level." While museum-goers take memories of the artists and their larger-than-life exhibitions home, few think of how those pieces got there. That's fine with De Calima, who considers a day well done where he and his team remain virtually invisible. Scaling the fringes of Gary's masterpiece, the Chico's operate best out of sight, keeping the museum up and running while scratching their endless adrenal itch. In the process, they're helping rescript Gary's narrative. Though the building was originally a tribute to Vibayo's maritime history, these Guggenheim gatekeepers honor the Basque country's more terrestrial legacy. In the words of Elduayan, "Thanks to the Chico's, the mountain is now reflected in our iconic museum." This unique intertwining of mountain culture and modern art exemplifies how Vibayo has transformed its identity from a post-industrial city to a thriving hub of cultural and outdoor activities. Guggenheim Museum, once a symbol of urban renewal and artistic innovation, now also stands as a testament to the rugged, adventurous spirit of the local population. As Gary's design draws visitors from around the globe, the Chico Stegari ensures that the structure remains as captivating as the art it houses. Their work is not only about maintenance, it's about perpetuating the dialogue between the building and its environment, between the city's past and future. De Calima, who has now spent nearly half his life scaling the Guggenheim, feels a profound connection to the city and its landmark museum. "It's more than just a job," he says. "It's about being part of something larger than yourself, contributing to the culture of your city and keeping the piece of art alive and well for the world to enjoy." As Vibayo continues to evolve, the Chico Stegari remains a crucial part of its story, bridging the gap between the mountains and the museum, between the natural world and human creativity. In a city where the landscape is as much a part of the culture as the architecture and art it inspires, the Chico's are a living link, a dynamic symbol of Vibayo's enduring spirit, an ongoing transformation. As the sun sets over the Nervion River, passing long shadows across the titanium scales of the Guggenheim, Yulande Calima and his team pack up their gear. Tomorrow, they will ascend again, continuing their dance with one of the most unique architectural feats of our time, ensuring that the legacy of Frank Gehry's vision and the vibrant culture of Vibayo continues to thrive and inspire. Mountain Gazette library is produced by Mountain Gazette, executive produced by Mike Rogge, produced and hosted by John Bousdott. Austin Holt is our marketing director. No part of this podcast or the magazine can be reproduced or used to train large language models without express written consent from verb cap and LLC. That means you, OpenAI. To learn more about Mountain Gazette, please visit us at mountaingazette.com. [music] (upbeat music)