In the wake of the Lance Armstrong cheating revelations, a
few high-profile climbers have likened the use of supplemental oxygen when
climbing the high 8000m peaks to cheating, e.g. doping and using
performance-enhancing drugs. For
example, one of the climbers I much admire, Mark Twight, recently blogged an
article entitled “What the cheaters have done to us” (quoted in Dane’s Cold
Thistle blog, which is widely followed by ice climbers http://coldthistle.blogspot.com/2013/01/what-cheaters-have-done-to-us.html
). Similarly, Jeff Jackson lamented the
use of supplemental oxygen in an article in the May issue of Rock & Ice in
his editorial "Mount Everest is Completely Irrelevant." Famous ice climber Will Gadd has also jumped
on the bandwagon, directly characterizing the use of supplemental oxygen as
cheating in his blog entitled “High altitude dopers and Armstrong” ( http://willgadd.com/high-altitude-dopers-and-armstrong/
) from which I quote:
If Lance is going to lose his 7
Tour titles for doping then there should be many thousands fewer ascents of
Everest on the books as well: only about 170 people have climbed Everest
without oxygen, which is probably about the same number who have ridden an
international champion level cycling race “clean.”
But both cyclists and Everesteers
want something so bad (winning or the summit) that they will use any means to
get there. Lance might have an argument that winning the Tour de France was
impossible without doping, but climbers don’t even have that argument as the
highest point on earth has been reached
by 170 people give or take. Diamox, oxygen, and a host of other drugs
are commonly used in high-altitude climbing/walking up fixed ropes to make the
summit lower; if you use drugs to get there then in my view you didn’t get
there. I wrote about this for Explore magazine a while back, but as I listened
to all the outrage in the outdoor community about Lance’s doping I just
couldn’t stop thinking about all the dopers, and the acceptance of that doping,
in high-altitude guided walking on Everest and other mountains. The Everesteers
at least admit to their doping (it’s hard to hide that oxygen mask), but
clearly they are using artificial means to reach a goal. That’s doping, that’s
saying the means justify the end.
Seriously, Will? So
Norgay and Hillary didn’t really summit Everest because they used bottled oxygen? Do we really need to put an asterisk next to
their names in the history books? I don’t think so!
The accusation that climbing with the aid of supplemental
oxygen, or even with the assistance of a guiding service, is tantamount to
cheating is plainly misguided. The
cheating accusation clearly does not apply to mountaineering if for no other
reason than that climbing a mountain is not a race or contest! There are no official contest rules to be
broken or cheated. There is no prize,
award, fame, or glory to be awarded to the winner, as with races (the exception of
a difficult first ascent notwithstanding).
Climbing is about personal satisfaction! Certainly it is more difficult and “pure” and
admirable and praiseworthy to climb a high mountain without using supplemental oxygen, but it is
simply wrong to accuse a climber who employs such aid as cheating. For those who disagree, I must ask: where does one draw the line on
cheating? Must we resort to climbing the
world’s highest peaks in the time-honored tradition of the first ascensionists by wearing hobnail boots, natural-fiber clothes, and using hemp ropes? What
would the early hard men think about the advantages of modern tents, double boots, Gore-tex
jackets, crampons, and carbon fiber ice tools? How
about freeze-dried food, energy gels, and the like? Are today’s rock climbers who climb with the
aid of chalk and sticky rubber shoes cheating as well? In fact,
aren’t we all really “using artificial means to reach our goals” when compared to the
first ascensionists, who were truly ground-breaking explorers?
Well, maybe not one amazing guy who went to extraordinary lengths
to eschew all forms of aid: Goran
Kropp, who rode his bike 7,000 miles from Sweden with all his supplies and
equipment, with no support, to the mountain, who navigated the Khumbu Icefall by his own route (it is normally established and maintained by a
small army of Sherpas), and who eventually completed a solo ascent. Now that is a purist! He did get a bus ride to a town for a part to
make a bike repair, but before resuming his quest, he insisted on busing back
to the spot of the breakdown to ensure that he could truthfully claim no support. Does that mean he was really the first – and
only – one to ever “really” climb the mountain?? Oh, but wait -- he leveraged the mechanical
advantage of gears and round wheels, so actually he was still cheating! Sorry, Goran, only if one walks (or rows!) one’s way to
the mountain can it be considered a true climb . . .
To be sure, the modern-day highest standards of climbing are set by the elite climbers --
those gifted, talented, strong, determined, persevering, self-sacrificing, and incredibly
hard-working athletes who are able to summit the world’s highest peaks on their
own and without relying on supplemental oxygen. But for
those of us average climbers who are unable or unwilling to devote most of our
lives to achieve this level of skill and capability, we weekend warriors who
aspire to climb Rainier, possibly Denali, and perhaps even dream about tackling
an 8000 meter peak someday – should we be denied our mountaineering passion and
dreams of attempting difficult and elusive high summits because we are not allowed to
mitigate the dangerously-hypoxic elevation with the use of bottled oxygen? More specifically, should we be prevented
from reaching beyond our limits to stretch for the Grand Prize, the mountain
with the most allure -- the tallest mountain on the planet – when its famous
lofty summit might only be achievable (with a healthy margin of safety)
were we to leverage the skill and experience of a professional guide to lead us
up the mountain and to use supplemental oxygen?
Certainly those elite climbers who are able to summit in a
self-supported manner and without supplemental oxygen have achieved a much more difficult and
higher-risk goal and are therefore deserving of far more admiration and praise
than do those climbers who achieve the same summit with the help of guides,
Sherpa support, and supplemental oxygen. But I would
argue that one doesn’t climb a mountain to gain admiration and praise, but
rather for one’s own personal satisfaction, enjoyment, sense of accomplishment,
and love for the mountains and for climbing.
For most of us, those are not diminished, but enhanced, when we stretch our limits,
even if we must rely on supplemental oxygen or hire an experienced guide.
In his fascinating book Beyond the Mountain, Steve
House made a disparaging comment about the “social climbers” that crowd the
standard route on Denali. Sorry Steve,
but please don’t disparage the enormous effort required and the incredible sense of accomplishment
experienced by those who achieve a Denali summit even by the standard route. Sure, I recognize that your pioneering, technical first ascents are much
more difficult, risky, groundbreaking, and praiseworthy, and deserving of way
more respect than the more straightforward climbs on standard routes, of which
we average climbers are capable. But
that doesn’t take away from the delight and pride we experience in working to achieve our own personal goals. During each such
climb, we gain more experience and skills, which helps to provide the
inspiration and ability to attempt more difficult routes or higher peaks. I sincerely hope that elite climbers such as
House and Gadd aren’t asserting that the use of supplemental oxygen is cheating because they feel that the success achieved by others using a less pure style somehow diminishes their own
accomplishments.
I started climbing less than four years ago when I was a few
months away from turning 50. I have
since been fortunate to have had excellent mentors from the Colorado Mountain
Club who have helped me learn to safely climb technical rock and ice, which has
allowed me to experience the joy of climbing routes of various difficulties in
the Colorado Rockies. My foremost goal
has been to keep learning and keep pushing my personal boundaries in a sport
that I have come to love dearly. My
climbing boundaries have slowly and steadily expanded from Colorado to the
Cascades, Peru, Ecuador, and Alaska. I feel that I’m now ready to attempt an
8000m peak while taking an opportunity to explore a corner of the beautiful and
remote Himalayan range.
My goal is to climb Cho Oyu, and I have chosen to make the attempt without using supplemental oxygen, not because I think it would be cheating to use supplemental oxygen but because I prefer to tackle the mountain on its own terms, and because I think the risks of climbing up to 27k' can be mitigated through training and by relying on a solid
acclimatization program of which I am capable. However, for
most climbers such as myself, climbing in the Himalayas is a once-in-a-lifetime
trip to the other side of the globe, which requires the investment of a lot of
time and money, so I believe it makes perfect sense to summit with the aid of supplemental oxygen,
if one so chooses. Climbing the world’s
highest peaks is a high-risk endeavor that requires dealing with various
potentially-lethal hazards: severe cold, crevasses, steep icy slopes, stormy weather, and an extremely hypoxic environment, which often causes acute mountain sickness, edema, and increased chance of frostbite. Hiring a guide
and/or using supplemental oxygen is a perfectly reasonable way to mitigate the risk of such hazards.
Nevertheless, everyone must draw a line regarding the acceptability of using various forms of aid. For example, if the only way I could summit
would be to hire a personal assistant (in the form of a high-altitude Sherpa)
to carry my gear (or me!) or to short-rope me up or down the mountain,
then I would choose not to summit. At
the very least, I want to climb without direct assistance from others. Does that mean I should not use fixed lines
that others set? While I would prefer to
set my own fixed lines, for the sake of time off work and safety, I have chosen
to climb with a guiding service and to use their fixed lines (though I hope to
assist with their installation). By
using a guiding service, I am accepting assistance, true. It is not as pure a style, and therefore less
praiseworthy, as climbing in a self-supported expedition. But if I do
well at altitude, I hope to learn enough from this trip to make another attempt
of an 8000m peak without being fully supported by a guiding service. Regardless, I would be proud to summit Cho
Oyu, even with the assistance of a guiding service. And, no, it is not cheating!
Here is where I choose to draw the line, with regard to acceptable
forms of aid:
- Climbing must be done under one’s own power (to cite an extreme hypothetical example: helicoptering to the top of Everest certainly doesn’t count!)
- Climbers must minimize impact to the environment, e.g. they must remove all trash, equipment, O2 bottles, fixed ropes, etc. (On some mountains, climbers are required to evacuate human waste.)
- Meet the mountain on its own terms as much as possible. Dragging a gas-powered compressor to build a 450-bolt ladder up Cerre Torre, as Cesare Maestri did, for example, is surely a clear case of “murdering the impossible” (Reinhold Messner's phrase), not to mention the excessive permanent scarring of the rock. Leave the iconic peaks to more talented free climbers (such as Kennedy, Kruk, and Lama). However, I personally feel that relying on removable aid or even resorting to placing an occasional hand-drilled bolt is acceptable (yes, it’s a matter of arbitrarily drawing a line).
- Give credit where credit is due! If you decide to hire a guiding outfit, be sure to recognize the incredible effort, hard work, and often the high risk that the guides and especially the Sherpas take on your behalf to try to get you to the summit. [Thanks to my friend and sometime climbing partner, LanceC, for reminding me about this critical point.]
- Be strong enough to get down safely. Work hard (training, planning, practicing skills, etc.) to minimize the probability of requiring a rescue, which endangers the lives of others.
To conclude, another alpinist whom I admire, Phil Powers, has a
balanced view to which I subscribe; he wrote recently in The Alpinist ( http://www.alpinist.com/doc/web13w/wfeature-everest-west-ridge
):
Thousands have climbed Everest since 1963.
Until the early 1990s, alpinists attempted a wide diversity of routes, looking
for harder lines or simpler styles. Reinhold Messner and Peter Habeler reached
the summit without supplemental oxygen in 1978. But in 1985—the year that David
Breashears guided Dick Bass to the top—there began an inexorable march away
from new or difficult routes and from "fair means" ascents without
bottled oxygen. Since 2000, the vast majority of expeditions have concentrated
on getting paying clients up the easier North or Southeast Ridges. . .
This infrastructure is moving to other
8000-meter peaks. Cho Oyu, Manaslu and now even K2 are guided by teams reliant
on supplemental oxygen, fixed lines and high altitude porters. Each person's
choice of style is his or her own, a decision that has to do with highly
personal variables. Regardless of how we feel about the use of various aids,
the people who stand atop these peaks still take each step themselves. We must
be clear, however, that individual style choices should not lead to damage to
the mountain or to harm to others—including to potential rescuers.
Climb safely!
John Martersteck
John Martersteck
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