Over a decade ago, when I was a scrawny, impressionable teenager living in Yosemite, I looked up to many of the older climbers in the community. These heavy-drinking hardmen, some of which lived on SAR site, had climbed the Big Stone many, many times. I idolized their climbing accomplishments and made every effort to rope up with them. Occasionally, when they’d get sick of me bugging them they’d finally agree to a climb. Sure, we got some great routes in, but one thing I remember more than the climbs themselves is the nasty feet and hands these guys had. I wanted to climb like them, but certainly didn’t want to end up with chronic fungus on my skin (this would kill my chances of making a future career as a hand model).

One standout partner was Walt Shipley. Shipley, who made his living at the local guide school and worked on SAR, had yellow fungus growing over his feet and toenails. “This is what happens to you when you climb your whole life,” I remember him saying. By cramming your feet into small shoes and hanging out in the hot sun all day it’s easy to contract fungal infections and develop other problems. However, this doesn’t have to happen if you take preventative steps.

Since those days my hands and feet have taken a severe beating. Thick calluses have built up on my toes and heels only to break open, bleed and then become infected causing a limp. I developed Hoof Rot in one big toe nail (a condition common in goats who stand in hot, wet climatic conditions), that is, an under-the-nail bruise that rotted from within – I had to remove the nail. I’ve ripped gaping holes in my tips on face climbs and torn flesh right off my digits from sharp finger cracks. During long big wall climbing periods, calluses have grown so thick that I’ve been unable to close my fingers. I’ve had so many infected gobies on the backs of my hands that I have big, permanent circular scars. Finally, as I write this, I can feel the itchy sensation of Athlete’s Foot developing in between my toes.

It’s been my observation that these aforementioned conditions are common amongst many climbers, from die-hard traddies, boulderers, and sport climbers. To address these problems, I’ve given myself ritualistic climber-specific mannies and peddies. When I witness a fellow dirtbag with cracked and bleeding heels and hands, I throw some salve and a pumice stone their way.

Climb On Bar, Corn Husker’s Lotion, Joshua Tree Climbing Salve, Life Out There, Safeway hand sanitizer – any or all of these salves, creams and lotions are climber’s friends. Everyday after climbing I apply salve under my toes (this is a common area for inflammation and pain), on the tips of my toes, over my hands and up the forearms. Climber-specific salves like Joshua Tree and Climb On work well to stave off infection and inflammation and aren't greasy like Corn Husker’s.

I don’t go anywhere without hand sanitizer. In a pinch I’ll use it as a salve since it generally contains Aloe Vera (but I never apply it to open wounds) so it cools the skin; this especially is useful in Joshua Tree where the rough cracks are murder (especially on the backs of the hands and forearms). The alcohol in the sanitizer kills the germs and fungus that cause inflammation and Athlete’s Foot. For stubborn calluses that continually split open, I carry Crazy Glue and simply fasten them shut. “Urban legend describes the glue as an accidental solution to battle wounds during World War II,” states supergluecorp.com. Legend or not, this stuff works; I even use it before attempting super-demanding finger cracks to keep my skin from peeling open like a banana.

When calluses grow too thick, I file them down with a pumice stone, removing feisty skin with nail clippers. If I’m bouldering often and thus growing super-thick, hard finger tips, I file them before they get out of control. Sure, thick tips are great – until they snag on a sharp hold and rip open. Ever see boulderers obsessively filing their fingers with an Emory board? They do this to keep from getting flappers.

By religiously maintaining proper skin care, I’ve been able to climb more often, without discomfort and end up with fewer infections. Though I never became a hand model, at least my hands and feet don’t scare away my climbing partners.

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