by CAMERON McPHERSON SMITH
copyright 1996
Strictly defined, alpine climbing involves ascending rock, ice and snow above timberline; this is a dull definition and what is more important to consider is that Alpine climbing is always characterised by one feature: Adventure, and I mean with a capital A! What, then, is Adventure ? It is facing the unknown; entering an arena in which you're certain of nothing but your own skills and ingenuity. You must react to unforeseen phenomena, you brain constantly doing precisely what it has evolved to do - store and process new and old information, and control the body based on the immediate environment. Adventure is using the mind and body together to overcome unexpected challenges, and this is often exactly what alpine climbing is all about. Many climbers today go to a lot of trouble to control their climbing environment, 'cleaning' and preparing routes, perhaps even creating artificial holds, or limiting their climbing to mapped and manicured areas. Some seek progressively less control and others actively seek out the uncontrollable. On one end of the 'control spectrum' one can discern the absolutes of an indoor rock-gym, the certainty of a bolted crag and the reliance on detailed guides to specific routes. Somewhere in the middle you find the lesser surety of a larger, infrequently climbed route, though the route is normally within range of rescue. Further along the spectrum, control, responsibility and certainty shift from the conditions, technology and environment to the climber. This is the realm of alpine climbing. The alpinist has a general idea of the route, but such 'absolutes' as difficulty and a detailed route description are ephemeral, riding seasonal tides. As an alpinist you must decide when and where it is prudent to make a subtle - or extreme - deviation from the 'plan'. You must do your own work, not relying on other peoples' efforts; the prospect of rescue is remote, and you climb with precisely this in mind. You and your partner are isolated. You are lightly equipped and survive by directing your technology as you see fit. You encounter bizarre natural shapes. Some are obstacles, others are fortuitous acquaintances. Alternately you suffer and are elated. Most often you begin alpinism wanting to repeat others' achievements, or attain some arbitrary technical grade. Eventually, technical grades lose all meaning as you become more interested in the experience of the climb. Surviving the ordeal becomes the first priority. It's apparent that the very nature of alpine ascents is such that no standard formula for success can be devised. Alpine climbs change from season to season, from week to week, day to day. What is an easy rock buttress as you climb out of your snow-cave in the morning can, by evening, turn into a nerve-grinding test of balance and courage; courage to go on, or courage to retreat. As an alpinist you subject yourself to dangers such as rockfall and avalanche which can be estimated and respected, but never controlled. No matter how good a climber you are, an avalanche can blink you out of life in an instant. The way to avoid such a useless fate is to stay safe; if the conditions are bad, you'll retreat, or stay clear the route in the first place. You'll get home, wish you could have done the climb, and sink into a hot bath happy to be alive. Better luck next time. Alpine climbing can be divided into at least two 'fields'; the non-technical and the technical. A non-technical ascent generally involves problems of physical exertion and objective dangers such as rockfall and avalanche. However physically difficult and objectively dangerous, there is little climbing requiring specialized techniques. Ropework and means of ascent are somewhat standardized and rather simple. Still, there is little or no control of the climbing environment. Non-technical alpine climbing is often refereed to as mountaineering.
Technical alpine climbing, on the other hand, involves special climbing and rope techniques. Put simply, it involves the adaptation of steep rock-climbing techniques to icy or otherwise difficult rock, steep ice and steep snow. It includes the physical exertion and objective dangers of mountaineering, but requires more of the climber in terms of varied ability. This book is intended to introduce you to the skills required of the technical alpinist. By 'you' I mean either the sport-climber who finds that they want some adventure, the traditional rock-climber who wants to experience something new, the mountaineer who has tired of snow-slogs and is itching for some technical climbing or the novice who is interested in the whole enterprise. However, you must get some basic skills in alpine climbing under your belt before setting off on technical routes. In this book I don't introduce the basic alpine skills of rock, snow and ice climbing; what I do is introduce methods for the initiated to use on more difficult climbs in small, lightweight, two-person teams. To get the proper background, consider a basic skills course, or go out with a partner and teach yourselves. It's up to you to become proficient at the basics, something which takes time and effort. By 'you' I also mean the average climber. The non-average climber won't need this book, as they can climb daily or at least very frequently and teach themselves while they teach others. Most of us, however, can only get out on some weekends and on holidays, and thus spend a lot of time trying very hard to cram in as much as possible, loading the car and speeding off with some damned appointment nagging at us all the time. Some will eventually quit the rat-race and climb full-time. Most, however, won't, and it's to the 'most' that I address this book. The book is organized in three sections. The first tells you how to adapt standard rock-climbing and mountaineering skills and equipment to more technical alpine conditions. The second section introduces some of the dangers of alpine climbing, suggests how to plan for them, and introduces some clothing and gear needed by the alpinist. The third section discusses situations you may encounter and how you may deal with them when traveling in a lightweight, lightly equipped two-person alpine team. The overall philosophy of this book is that alpinists must be self-reliant and adaptable. 'Safety margins', as I see them, are to be determined by the climbers themselves, just as the individual should pursue goals of their own creation, not grades or difficulties established by someone else. I also believe the alpinist must climb with an ethic in mind, with free reign to do as they please so long as they do not damage the natural environment, or mar the experience of other climbers. Finally, I stress that it's better to come home alive than dead. I don't think anyone will argue with me there. Climbing Ethics and Environmental Ethics
Ethics are a part of climbing as they are a part of every aspect of our actions. With some aspects of the climbing ethic you have a bit of latitude for decision, as when you consider how much risk you want to take before backing off, or asking yourself 'how much technology can I personally justify to overcome this difficulty?'. At the heart of the climbing ethic, however, lies the specific question of whether you have the right to diminish the potential climbing experience of other climbers. To be blunt, you do not. As in any issue of personal freedom, you should be free to do as you please, so long as you do not compromise the rights of others. In climbing, this boils down to not damaging permanent features (usually rock) by placing bolts or using scar-creating pitons unless absolutely necessary. There is more leeway with pitons than with chopped holds, as pitons may be the only way to use a natural feature, whereas a chopped hold is totally unnatural. This assumes that natural is right, and I accept this assumption. Use your technology to take advantage of natural features; do not create new ones. The exception is bolts, where it may be impossible to use anything else as a belay anchor. In this case you must ask yourself if you're willing to damage the rock by bolt placement. When dealing with the environmental ethic there is far less leeway for contemplation. We must respect and protect the natural environment we live in. It only takes a thinking person a few moments to realize that we simply cannot justify trashing our wild places, however remote they may seem. It's true that sometimes it's necessary to leave hardware on a climb, and this is worth considering, but at the most basic level here I am talking about packing out your trash. Only the lowest, cretinous idiots leave wrappers or other debris (broken tools etc.) on a climb, and I suggest you be vocal about such actions as you encounter them and their perpetrators. Having said all this, we can turn to Part I and discuss how the basic skills of the mountaineer or rock-climber can be adapted to alpine conditions.
TABLE OF CONTENTS