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The Prescription - October 2020

A severe storm on the first full day of summer caught two climbers high on 14,197-foot Crestone Needle in southern Colorado. After descending the Ellingwood Ledges route for about 1,000 feet, the two spent a cold night on a tiny ledge (circled). Photo: Patrick Fiore.

The Prescription - October 2020

EPIC ON ELLINGWOOD LEDGES

STRANDED | Storm, Darkness, Inexperience

On Friday, June 21, 2019, two climbers from Kansas (ages 23 and 30) drove up to the east side of the Sangre de Cristo Range. Their goal was the Ellingwood Ledges (a.k.a. Ellingwood Arête) on the east side of Crestone Needle, one of the “Fifty Classic Climbs of North America.” The 2,000-foot route ends at the summit of the 14,197-foot peak.

The next morning, under sunny skies, they started climbing at 9 a.m. via the route’s direct start. Their iPhone weather app showed a forecast of “partly cloudy with a 20% chance of showers.” Enjoying warm weather and dry rock, the duo made good time cruising the easy 5th-class pitches at the bottom and the 3rd- and 4th-class ledges in the middle of the route. However, at the route’s crux, just a few hundred feet below the summit, the 5.7 to 5.9 cracks (depending on exact route) were filled with ice. Clad in rock shoes and with no ice axes, they couldn’t climb past the thin ribbons of ice. Meanwhile, the sky turned gray as, unbeknownst to the pair, a strong winter-like storm was barreling in from the west.

Around 4 p.m. the storm hit, with intense snow showers along with thunder and lightning. The pair put on their light fleece jackets and waterproof jackets. With visibility dropping to 30 feet, they kept trying to climb, thinking safety would be gained by going over the top and descending the standard route. (In fact, the 3rd-class normal route up and down Crestone Needle is exposed and tricky to follow, and has stranded climbers even in the best weather.) Eventually, realizing they could not go up, the pair called the Custer County Sheriff’s Office to request assistance. It was about 5:30 p.m.

Custer County Search and Rescue (CCSAR) began planning for a technical rescue. The climbers started down, building rappel anchors and occasionally downclimbing, a descent they described as “terrifying.” They made steady progress and continued to give updates to CCSAR. (Cell service is very good high on the Crestones.) At approximately 9:30 p.m. and at 13,030 feet, soaked and shivering hard, and nearly out of gear to build anchors, the pair grew concerned their fatigue could affect their safety if they continued. In a call with CCSAR, a senior member told them not to continue down if they were not completely confident in their anchors. They decided to stop and wait for morning on a snow-covered ledge about as wide as a lawn chair. 

Rescuers staging below Crestone Needle in the Sangre de Cristo Range in southern Colorado. Photo courtesy of Dale Atkins.

Given the complexity of the situation, CCSAR began planning a parallel rescue effort: one ground-based and another by helicopter hoist. Members of various other rescue teams started toward the area to help, and a line of communication was opened with the Colorado Army National Guard (COANG). 

High on the mountain, light snow continued to fall until about 1 a.m., and then, as the skies cleared, the temperature dropped into the lower 20s (F). Their sodden clothing froze hard and their joints turned stiff. They had found no gear placements, so they had no anchor. Afraid to even stand up for fear they might fall, they stayed put. The two were so miserable and scared that they each called parents and siblings to say good-bye, thinking they might die before sunrise. 

By 3 a.m., rescue teams started to arrive at CCSAR’s base in Westcliffe. An hour later, over 20 mountain rescuers from four counties were hiking toward the base of Ellingwood Ledges. All the while, CCSAR liaised with the National Guard to coordinate a helicopter extraction utilizing two Alpine Rescue Team hoist rescue technicians. Weather conditions were questionable, and it was not until well after sunrise that the helicopter mission became a “go.” After a 130-mile flight, Black Hawk 529 out of Buckley Air Force Base arrived overhead at about 9:45 a.m. and determined a hoist insert and extraction was possible.

Two rescue techs were lowered to the stranded climbers. Other than being very cold, stiff, hungry, and thirsty, the climbers were in remarkably good condition. The morning sun had thawed and dried their clothes, and warmed their spirits. The two were helped into rescue harnesses, and when the Black Hawk returned, the climbers and rescuers were hoisted two at a time and flown to CCSAR’s base in Westcliffe. By 2:45 p.m., all the ground teams had returned safely to Westcliffe, ending a 22-hour mission. 

ANALYSIS 

The two climbers were capable multi-pitch crag climbers who aspired to do their first alpine or big-mountain route. They had the skill to climb this route in summer conditions; however, the preceding winter had been one of Colorado’s snowiest in many years. Though the calendar said early summer, snow and ice on the high mountains was similar to mid-May. The arrival of the storm only worsened the situation. 

The storm had been well forecasted for the mountains, but the pair did not get the right forecast. Many phone apps present weather for nearby towns, so the climbers got the forecast for Westcliffe, located in the valley to the northeast of the mountain. Then they typed in “Crestone” and another benign forecast popped up—however, this forecast was for the hamlet of Crestone, low in a valley on the west side of the peak. Seeing two good forecasts, the climbers were confident. But there was a very different forecast for the peaks 6,000 feet higher. [Editor’s Note: 14ers.com links to NOAA spot forecasts for each of the Colorado 14ers.] 

The climbers had a good alpine rack but left nearly all of it as they rappelled and downclimbed nearly 1,000 feet of snow-covered rock and grass. In their packs they carried shell jackets, beanies, gloves, and good socks—barely enough protection. They climbed in rock shoes and carried light trail shoes for the descent. In a typical summer, these shoes would have been fine, but had they reached the summit, their descent off a very snowy and icy Broken Hand Pass would have been difficult. 

To their credit, these climbers kept their wits and survived a miserable night in a very exposed spot. They tried very hard to self-rescue and did a phenomenal job to descend as far as they did. 

The role of luck—good and bad—plays a much larger role than we often acknowledge in such situations. In the Sangre de Cristo Range, the weather cleared soon after midnight, leaving the climbers with drying conditions. Further north, in Colorado’s central and northern mountains, the storm continued all night, and upwards of two feet of snow fell. These two put themselves in a place to be lucky when they wisely decided to stop. Surviving a miserable night is always easier than surviving a fall. (Sources: Dale Atkins, Alpine Rescue Team and Colorado Hoist Rescue Team, and Jonathan Wiley and Patrick Fiore of Custer County SAR.)  

THE SHARP END: EPISODE 57

Brian Vines was a high school senior and a budding climber in the 1990s when he and some friends went to Sand Rock, Alabama, for a day of top-roping. On their last climb, a simple mistake led to a damaging ground fall. More than two decades later, Brian and hostess Ashley Saupe look back at that day for the Sharp End podcast. Brian has returned to climbing, and his 14-year-old son, J.T., now leads many of their climbs. But the lessons from that day at Sand Rock still guide their every move.

30 YEARS OF ACCIDENT DATA

The September issue of Rock and Ice features an article by AAC member Eliot Caroom presenting a unique analysis of reports in the last 30 years of ANAC (more than 2,700 accident narratives in all). Eliot created a database of keywords to examine the characteristics of accidents in ways not possible with our annual data tables. The results are very enlightening. For example, it’s well-known that many accidents happen during descents (about 32 percent in Eliot’s sample), but his method also reveals that rappel errors were a factor in 29 percent of descent accidents, and another 14 percent involved strandings. Moreover, nearly one-third of all accidents involving a rappel error led to a fatality. Eliot has offered to share his one-of-a-kind database so other researchers can mine this information. Read the story and learn more here.

TECHNIQUE TO TRY: PRE-RIGGED RAPPELS

Two rappellers ready to go. Photo courtesy of Alpine Savvy.

Pre-rigging or “stacking” rappels is a technique that is used most often by guides but it also offers multiple safety and speed benefits to any experienced climber. Pre-rigging is when each member of the climbing team attaches an extended device to the ropes at the rappel anchor before anyone begins to rappel. The technique allows everyone to check each other’s rappel setup, and it provides other safety and efficiency benefits, including the fact that only one stopper knot is needed at the end of the rappel ropes. The pros and cons of this technique are well explained in this article at Alpine Savvy.

Pre-rigging is not appropriate for every rappel, and expert instruction is recommended. Once you learn the technique, however, you may be surprised how much you like it for long series of rappels.

ROPE RECALL

Petzl is recalling a number of low-stretch kernmantle rope after a report that a defective rope was discovered earlier this year. No accidents or injuries have been reported. The recall is a follow-up to a July request for inspection issued by Petzl. The voluntary recall notice, issued by the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission, is dated September 30 and covers more than 15,000 ropes sold in the United States and Canada, mostly for professional access work and rigging, as well as some caving and climbing applications. The owners of ropes with certain serial numbers are asked to inspect their ropes and contact Petzl if specific problems are discovered.

MEET THE VOLUNTEERS

Lindsay Auble, Regional Editor for Kentucky, Arkansas, and Tennessee

Years volunteering with ANAC:

Home crag: Red River Gorge, Kentucky

Lindsay at home in the Red. Photo: Johnny Nowell.

Favorite type of climbing: Single-pitch sport. Each season I choose a few routes to project at the very edge of my ability. I love the process of breaking down a climb and training each move. It can be frustrating at first; I can’t count the number of times I’ve said, “I can’t do that move.” But after weeks of problem-solving, training, and engraining muscle memory, the moment it comes together is that much sweeter because of every failed attempt.

How did you first become interested in Accidents

I started climbing outside in the Red River Gorge and was very lucky to have a strong community of climbing mentors . When I was relocated for work, I asked one of them for suggestions on how I could continue my climbing education, and he pointed me to the AAC and the Accidents publication. Now, every incident I edit is a research project. After I gather the details of the accident, I consult with experienced climbers, guides, and first responders to fully understand why it occurred. We have even set up several situations on practice anchors in the house. In the process of unpacking the “why?”, I have greatly expanded my knowledge of climbing gear and techniques.

Why do you think accident reporting is important?

For a decade, I worked as a chemical engineer, mostly with the construction industry, which is constantly working to improve safety metrics. They found that companies that continuously discuss safety incidents and near misses have significantly fewer accidents. It reminds people of the potential consequences and pulls them out of autopilot, especially when the activity is repetitive. Almost all of the climbing accidents I have analyzed have been at least partially attributable to human error.

Personal scariest “close call”?

While I’ve had an off-route moment with potential consequences that scared every molecule in my being and a low fall that resulted in an injured tailbone, I feel the scariest moments have been a bit more innocuous. Once I hung near the top of a route and then noticed that my knot had threaded only the waist loop tie-in point. I thought, “Huh, this somehow made it through all our safety checks.” Or lowering from a route and realizing that I didn’t remember cleaning it. Kind of like arriving somewhere and not remembering the drive, because you’ve done it hundreds of times. So scary!!

Personal safety tip?

After an accident that devastated our community, we are getting in the habit of weight-testing the system before leaving the ground. After our regular safety checks and stick-clipping the first bolt (a must in the Red), both climber and belayer lean back and weight the system, loading the knot and engaging the belay device. In addition to serving as a demonstrative check of the system, this method has the added bonus of tightening the knot and removing a little stretch in the rope to better protect a low fall.

What is your favorite thing to do when you are not climbing?

I’m a huge fan of puzzles and games. If there is such a thing, I might have a clinical sudoku addiction. When my boyfriend and I traveled to Las Vegas, I think we were close to splitting our time equally between climbing and the Pinball Hall of Fame—my boyfriend wins free games and then I use them up when he moves on to a different machine. In fact, we even created a game ourselves: Crag Crushers.

Share Your Story: If you’ve been involved in a climbing accident or rescue, consider sharing the lessons learned with other climbers. Let’s work together to reduce the number of accidents. Contact us at accidents@americanalpineclub.org.

The monthly Accidents Bulletin is supported by adidas Outdoor and the members of the American Alpine Club.

Phil Powers: Farewell to A Visionary Leader

“I believed that with real work the AAC could not only provide membership benefits and community, but also be a positive force in the larger world. So I embarked on what has been a most fulfilling journey.”

Dive into this exhibit to learn about one of the AAC’s most influential CEOs, his legacy, and what inspired him to shape the Club the way he did.

Phil Powers: Farewell

$10,000 Awarded in Grants to Replace Aging Bolts

Photo: Craig Hoffman

Photo: Craig Hoffman

The Access Fund and American Alpine Club are pleased to announce the 2019 Anchor Replacement Fund grant award recipients. This grant program addresses the growing concerns of anchor failure and the access issues that could result from these incidents. This year, we are thrilled to announce funding for ten worthy anchor replacement projects across the country.

  • Wasatch and Uinta Mountains, UT - Salt Lake Climbers Alliance

  • Red River Gorge, KY - Red River Gorge Fixed Gear Initiative

  • Rumney, NH - Rumney Climbers Association

  • Sauratown Mountain and Cooks Wall, NC - Caroline Climbers Coalition

  • Obed, TN - East Tennessee Climbers’ Coalition

  • New River Gorge, WV - New River Alliance of Climbers

  • Boulder Canyon and Shelf Road, CO - Boulder Climbing Community

  • Wet Mountains, CO - Southern Colorado Climber’s Resource and Action Group

  • Tahoe Basin, CA - Tahoe Climbers Coalition

  • Queen Creek Canyon, AZ - Central Arizona Bolt Replacement Program


October 14, 2019, Golden, CO—The Access Fund and American Alpine Club are pleased to announce the 2019 Anchor Replacement Fund grant awards. Now in its fifth year, the grant program launched to address the growing concerns of anchor failure and the access issues that could result from these incidents. This year, we are thrilled to announce funding for ten worthy anchor replacement projects across the country.

Wasatch and Uinta Mountains, UT - Salt Lake Climbers Alliance

Salt Lake Climbers Alliance (SLCA) was awarded funding to replace aging hardware at crags across the region, including Maple Canyon, Little Cottonwood Canyon, American Fork Canyon, and the Uinta Mountains. Old hardware will be replaced with 1/2” stainless steel anchors using sustainable replacement techniques (hole re-use) to preserve the character of the routes and the rock. SLCA’s Wasatch Anchor Replacement Initiative is one of the leading local climbing organization-led fixed anchor replacement programs in the country.

Red River Gorge, KY - Red River Gorge Fixed Gear Initiative

Red River Gorge Fixed Gear Initiative (RRGFGI) was awarded funding to replace rusting and aging hardware on the steep sandstone cliffs throughout the region with 1/2” stainless glue-in anchors. RRGFGI is planning to replace over 300 bad bolts in 2020 and is striving to keep bad bolt reports in the region to fewer than 50 at any given time. RRGFGI works to replace aging bolts throughout the Red River Gorge region.

Rumney, NH - Rumney Climbers Association

Rumney Climbers Association was awarded funding to replace aging expansion bolts at several crags located at the popular Rumney climbing area. RCA’s efforts are widespread and ongoing, but emphasis in the coming year will be placed on updating hardware at Orange Crush, New Wave, and Bonsai with 1/2” stainless steel glue-in bolts. 

Sauratown Mountain and Cooks Wall, NC - Caroline Climbers Coalition

Carolina Climbers Coalition (CCC) was awarded funding to replace aging hardware at Cooks Wall in Hanging Mountain State Park and Sauratown Mountain. CCC’s efforts will focus on replacing old 3/8” non-stainless wedge, sleeve, and drop-in anchors with new 1/2” stainless steel hardware.

Obed, TN - East Tennessee Climbers’ Coalition

East Tennessee Climbers’ Coalition (ETCC) was awarded funding to support their goal of rebolting the entire Obed in the next five years. ETCC has replaced 1,000 aging bolts in the past 17 months with new 1/2“ stainless anchors. This grant will help facilitate their ongoing effort to replace 4,000 aging bolts in the region.

New River Gorge, WV - New River Alliance of Climbers

New River Alliance of Climbers (NRAC) was awarded funding to rebolt the popular Tattoo and Beer Walls. These areas provide the highest concentration of beginner sport routes in the New River Gorge.

Boulder Canyon and Shelf Road, CO - Boulder Climbing Community

Boulder Climbing Community (BCC) was awarded funding to rebolt Black Widow Slab in Boulder Canyon and the Darkside at Shelf Road. The BCC will purchase 200 1/2” stainless steel sleeve bolts, 160 Wave Bolts, and 40 lower-off anchor set-ups to address aging hardware at these two popular crags.

Wet Mountains, CO - Southern Colorado Climber’s Resource and Action Group

Southern Colorado Climber’s Resource and Action Group (SoCo CRAG) was awarded funding to address aging hardware at crags in the Newlin Creek area of the Wet Mountains in southern Colorado. Efforts will focus on installing new 1/2“ stainless hardware and modern hangers on routes currently equipped with homemade hangers and aging bolts.

Tahoe Basin, CA - Tahoe Climbers Coalition

Tahoe Climbers Coalition (TCC) was awarded funding to replace aging hardware around the Tahoe Basin. As a newly formed local climbing organization, TCC’s efforts will bolster ongoing replacement efforts in the region, helping to ensure climbing in the Tahoe Basin remains accessible and bad bolts are replaced in a timely manner.

Queen Creek Canyon, AZ - Central Arizona Bolt Replacement Program

Central Arizona Bolt Replacement Program (CABRP) was awarded funding to address aging hardware at The Pond in Queen Creek Canyon. CABRP will replace 720 aging, rusty bolts with new stainless steel glue-in bolts. CABRP will also replace top anchor hardware on all routes with new quick links and top anchor hooks, addressing concerns around rusty, loose, and inferior hardware at the crag.

Simul-Rappelling

It is not uncommon for rappelling climbers to commit to a simultaneous counterweight arrangement for rappelling. In this arrangement, the descending climbers can rappel simultaneously, and it is commonly referred to as simul-rappelling. When performed correctly, simul-rappelling results in a measurable efficiency, requiring less time for the two rappellers to move simultaneously than taking turns. However, the counterweight arrangement of simul-rappelling makes the climbers interdependent. If either climber loses control, makes a mistake in rigging, or if either side of the counterweighted rope is severed, both climbers suffer the consequences of the mishap/mistake.

As result, simul-rappelling is a technique that should only be selectively and carefully deployed. If not, if climbers fail to justify the technique or use it too causally, the probability of a single mistake affecting both climbers increases. Instead, the following principles can be used to justify simul-rappelling, or reject the technique when it is not justifiable, and they can provide some guidance for rigging a simul-rappel in a way that minimizes the opportunities for a catastrophic error.

  1. Only the aggregated efficiencies of simul-rappelling justify the risks involved. On a single rappel, simul-rappelling may only save the team seconds, but multiple rappels can aggregate their efficiencies for a measurable benefit.

  2. Simul-Rappelling magnifies the importance of best rappelling practices. Remaining secure during setup, using appropriate backups, managing the ends of the rope, and avoiding entanglements are concepts vital to all rappelling, but simul-rappelling arrangements demand that both rappellers adhere to sound fundamentals.

  3. Since the risks of simul-rappelling are severe, and since efficiencies are part of what justifies the technique in the first place, the simplest setups with the fewest components are easier to double-check, easier to inspect, and harder to mistake.

Long well-bolted climbs like Space Boyz require many rappels to descend. In this kind of context, the efficiencies of simul-rappelling might justify the technique.

Long well-bolted climbs like Space Boyz require many rappels to descend. In this kind of context, the efficiencies of simul-rappelling might justify the technique.

The rappel descents from a place like Seneca Rocks just aren’t long enough to necessitate Simul-Rappelling. It’s harder to justify such a consequential arrangement when the efficiencies don’t add up.

The rappel descents from a place like Seneca Rocks just aren’t long enough to necessitate Simul-Rappelling. It’s harder to justify such a consequential arrangement when the efficiencies don’t add up.

If a descending team decides to simul rappel, the rigging is critical. If both rappellers use an assisted braking device, like a grigri, if they enlist a knot-block at the anchor, and if they interconnect their tethers and anchor, they’ve set up a simul-rappelling rig that provides quick transitions at each anchor and provides the rappelling team with a few different kinds of backups.

Assuming a simul-rappel is justifiable, both rappellers can find efficiencies from using Assisted Braking Devices. As always, managing the ends of the rope is a wise choice.

Assuming a simul-rappel is justifiable, both rappellers can find efficiencies from using Assisted Braking Devices. As always, managing the ends of the rope is a wise choice.

Blocking a knot isolates at least one of the rappellers from the consequences of the counterweight arrangement.

Blocking a knot isolates at least one of the rappellers from the consequences of the counterweight arrangement.

The interconnected rappellers can give each other a backup when there is a blocked knot in the rope. Plus, the rappelling team can simply bump this anchor from one station to the next, staying connected during the entire rappel.

The interconnected rappellers can give each other a backup when there is a blocked knot in the rope. Plus, the rappelling team can simply bump this anchor from one station to the next, staying connected during the entire rappel.

Trip to the Library, January 4th 2019

by Ron Funderburke, AAC Education Manager

At the top of this new year, I was doing some research on behalf of the American Mountain Guides Association. A question about the history of American guides came across my desk earlier last year, and I began making regular trips to uncover the overlooked and often sad history of American mountain guides prior to the professionalization of the trade. Many native guides were conscripted, and their local knowledge of mountain passes and mountain ways was never credited by the “pioneers” that exploited them. Anyone interested can check out the AMGA’s Guide magazine later this year for an article that summarizes my findings.  

On January 4th, I was pursuing this little mystery:

The American Alpine Club trained and certified American mountain guides? When was that? Why did they start that program? Why did the program end? Did AMGA replace this program?

To find an answer, I started with the first editions of the American Alpine Journal, and I scanned the records of all the Club’s proceedings. Proceedings include minutes from board meetings, secretary reports, and reports from gatherings and dinners. They’re pretty thorough. I came across proceedings from the mid-1930s that disclosed the emergence of American guiding services in the Tetons and Mount Rainier and findings of the AAC board that unified training and certification would be of value for aspiring professionals and for Americans that needed the services of a guide.

The proceedings detail the formation of a ‘Guides’ Committee’ and that committee began reporting regularly on its work. By 1940, the Guides’ Committee had run several trainings and certification exams, it had designed and distributed diplomas, and it had used these initial successes to begin planning more trainings around the country. The ‘Guide’s Diploma’ artifact that is pictured above is one of few remaining relics from this program.

What happened, you might ask? It’s difficult to know what would have happened to the AAC Guide Committee, and its training and certification scheme, had World War II not taken the entire climbing world in a different direction. After 1941 all proceedings of the Guides’ Committee were replaced with new and pressing work being done to support the American war effort, including the training, recruitment, and deployment of mountain soldiers. All the expertise American climbers could muster, and all the able-bodied soldiers that might have become guides, were enlisted in the war effort.

After the war, the guides program was taken up again in sporadic fits and starts, including some early versions of the American Mountain Guides Association in 1970. In each case, the proceedings document trainings and certifications in isolated regions of the country, and an ultimate inability to create a program that would have unified American professionals.

Additionally, I perused the Fuhrerbuch (guides log) of one of the first certified mountain guides in North America. Ed Feuz Sr was a certified Swiss Bergfuhrer (mountain guide), and he was recruited by the Canadian Pacific railroad to offer guided climbing at the mountain hotel and rail-stops along the track through the Canadian Rockies. Feuz had many American clients, and his careful record of their climbs is documented and archived. Near the end of his career, Feuz described how guided climbing had become unfashionable. It’s one of many clues I could find as to why the AAC guides committee only achieved sporadic success training and certifying mountain guides after World War II.

When our library professionals saw the nature of my research, they asked if I had seen the AMGA archives. As a long time professional member of the AMGA, I was intrigued to know what might be in those archives. I was not disappointed. I found reams of correspondence between the American Alpine Club, members of the AAC Guides’ Committee, guides and guide service owners, sponsors and consultants from the Alpine Club of Canada, the Association of Canadian Mountain Guides, and various representatives of European guides associations including the International Federation of Mountain Guides. I found lengthy treatises and pedagogical statements on the nature of American climbing instruction and education from the likes of Yvon Chouinard.

Together, the whole dossier chronicles a story about American guides that should resonate with any guide today. Guides had strong opinions about the standards to which they should be trained and certified. Guide services had strong opinions about how much certification schemes should cost and how relevant certifications would be to their operations. Climbers had strong opinions about the differentiation of guided ascents and non-guided ascents. Educators had strong opinions about how and why climbing instruction should distinguish itself from prevailing education systems of the times. With so many strong opinions and so many perspectives needed to create a system of professional guides education and certification, it’s no wonder the work of the AAC Guides’ Committee encountered so many obstacles. When strong personalities and strong opinions collide, consensus can be difficult to achieve.

Like many trips to the library, my quest to solve one little mystery unveiled new mysteries, and the questions I was pursuing are not generally of interest to climbers. It’s the kind of esoterica that you can’t uncover on Wikipedia. Thankfully, our library and our library professionals appreciate that little things will matter to someone, some day.  


Pitons

by Allison Albright

A set of pitons from the mid-20th century, including LEM, Charlet-Moser, Stubai and Chouinard

Pitons are one of the oldest types of rock protection and were invented by the Victorians in the late 19th century. Pitons are metal spikes which are inserted into cracks in the rock and secured by hammering them into place with a piton hammer.

Illustration of a climber using natural protection methods to rope down from Alpine Climbing on Foot and with Ski by Ernest Wedderburn, 1937

Mountaineering involved technical rock climbing only as a means to reach the top of the mountain, and not, in those days, for its own sake and by the turn of the 20th century, most mountain climbers favored “natural protection,” which was securing rope to rocks or other natural features that could be found along the route. They used pitons nearly exclusively for climbing down and only then when the route down had become unsafe due to the sun setting or ice forming on rocks.  This was especially true of UK mountaineers, who prided themselves on their ability to climb without the use of such aids.

Many mountaineers in those days believed that the use of artificial rock protection and aids, such as pitons, would lead to carelessness and were regarded as useless in the ascent of difficult routes. 

Early pitons were iron spikes and had rings attached to one end through which mountaineers would secure their rope. However, those rings sometimes bent or broke under the weight of a mountaineer. Hans Fiechtl invented the modern piton in 1910, made entirely of one piece of metal with a hole (called the eye) in one end. This reduced the number of moving parts in the tool and made them sturdier and more reliable.

Illustration of piton use and placement from the Handbook of American Mountaineering by Kenneth Henderson, 1942

In such cases, pegs to hammer in and anchor to are a remedy for our failures, our failure to carry on, to adjust the climb to the day-length, or to watch the weather. Their use then is corrective, not auxiliary.
— Mountain Craft by Geoffrey Winthrop Young, 1920

Angle piton with a ring

Illustration of proper piton technique from the Handbook of American Mountaineering by Kenneth Henderson, 1942

Pitons were mostly made of softer steel and iron that allowed them to conform to the shape of the crack when used, making it difficult or impossible to remove them from the rock when they were no longer needed. This method worked well in the softer rock of Europe and much of the US, and pitons were habitually left in place at the end of a climb.

 





However, leaving permanent marks on the landscape sat poorly with many climbers and soft pitons didn’t work well on longer routes where rock protection needed to be removed and used again. They also didn’t hold up well in the hard granite of places like the Yosemite Valley. In 1946 John Salathé, a climber and a blacksmith, used hardened steel to create pitons that could be removed from a crack and used again and again without getting bent or disfigured.

A lost arrow piton with sunburst design

The only problem with the harder pitons was that they often disfigured the rock. Since pitons are hammered into and out of rock cracks, and since the same cracks are often used over and over again, climbers were leaving their mark each time they inserted and removed a hard steel piton. The soft steel pitons weren’t much better at leaving a route unaltered, since they often had to be left in place. They can still be found in some routes.

 “There is a word for it, and the word is clean.” – Doug Robinson, The Whole Natural Art of Protection, 1972

Yvon Chouinard, who had been making pitons through his Chouinard Equipment brand for several years by then, introduced the aluminum chocks in his 1972 Chouinard Equipment/Great Pacific Iron Works catalog. The catalog included two seminal essays on clean climbing; A Word by Yvon Chouinard and Tom Frost, and The Whole Natural Art of Protection by Doug Robinson. You can read them online here. This ethos changed American climbing forever and the piton was quickly replaced by equipment that could be easily removed and reused without damaging or altering the rock, first slings, nuts and chocks and later cams.

Pitons manufactured by Yvon Chouinard, arranged in order of their evolution.

Clean climbing methods proved to be much safer and easier to use than pitons, since pounding a spike into a crack with a hammer is time and energy consuming. Pitons are still used in some places where other types of protection aren’t an option, but these situations are rare.

You can check out some examples of pitons from our archival gear collection in the slideshow below.

Denali - First ascent of the South Face via the West Rib 1959

Denali - First ascent of the South Face via the West Rib 1959

It had all begun on an afternoon some nine months previous. Four of us were lying about relaxing after a particularly fine Teton climb when someone enthusiastically suggested, "Let’s climb the south face of McKinley next summer!” To attempt a new and difficult route on North America’s highest mountain seemed a most worthwhile enterprise; without further ado, we cemented the proposal with a great and ceremonious toast.

Introducing: 57hours, the New Guiding App

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Our Education Director Ron recently told us about two AAC members doing long-awaited work for our community: they’re streamlining both the process of hiring a guide and the process of guiding with their free new app, 57hours. If you're making a gym-to-crag transition, experiencing outdoor climbing through a professional facilitator, or hiring guides or instructors regularly, think of this as your go-to resource. AAC members, get 10% off all guiding services through 57hours with the link in your profile!

Gongga Shan (Minya Konka) 1932

by Eric Rueth

The Sikong Expedition in 1932 has to be one of the more unique mountaineering tales to have ever occurred. I and maybe others would argue that if there ever was a mountaineering expedition that should be turned into 1990’s style action-adventure movie starring Brendan Fraiser, this one would be it. There are too many interesting details to this expedition to fully capture in a blog post like this, so instead I’m going to give you a bare bones description and show you some of Terris Moore’s slides in an attempt to get you to read the American Alpine Club Journal articles about the expedition (linked below), and/or to read the entire book of the expedition (prologue through the epilogue), Men Against the Clouds. The pieces written by the expedition members themselves are really the only pieces of writing that do this expedition justice.

The Sikong Expedition consisted of four Americans, Jack Young, Terris Moore, Arthur Emmons, and Richard Burdsall. These were the four remaining members of a larger Explorers Club expedition that was meant to take place but dissolved due to various delays and complications created by global events. One of the global events was the Japanese invasion of Shanghai which led Young, Moore, Emmons, and Burdsall to briefly become a part of the American Company of the Shanghai Volunteer Corps.

After the dissolution Lamb Expedition to Northern Tibet, the first step of the newly formed Sikong Expedition was a twenty day journey up the Yangste River that featured rough waters, beautiful gorges and potential for pot shots from bandits on the river banks.

The Sikong-Szechuan region was still relatively unknown to the west and the purpose of the original expedition was to explore survey the region and gather samples of flora and fauna along with an attempt on Gongga Shan. The explorer’s spirit lived on in the Sikong Expedition. Thirty pages of appendices and one AAJ Article document their efforts. Below are two slides that not only shows the expedition doing some survey work but also shows how photographs and slides can degrade over time! If your interested in degrading photographs check out this previous library blog post.

Part of the reason for surveying the region and the mountain specifically was that at the time calculations of its height ranged anywhere from 16,500’ to 30,000’. The Sikong Expedition measured Gongga Shan’s height to be 24,891’ which is only 100’ off of the mountain’s current measured height of 24,790’.

After weeks of acclimatization, moving supplies, and setting up camps, no high-altitude porters and with crevasse falls along the way; Moore and Burdsall attained the summit on October 28, 1932. Below are two of the dozens of photos taking while on the summit. Photographs were taken with the Chinese flag and the American flag. The American flag (48 stars) carried to the summit currently resides here at the American Alpine Club Library. Due to wind, an ice axe had to be pushed through the flags to keep them attached and flying for the summit photos.

What makes this expedition such an amazing feat is the twists and turns that take place in the story. The expedition in a sense never should have happened after the Lamb Expedition dissolved. Under normal circumstances it is likely that everyone would have headed home and planned to try again at a different time. Instead, four members remained in large part due to the Great Depression and being told that their money would fair them better in China and that there likely wouldn’t be work for them if they returned to the States. The style that the mountain was summited was more akin to modern expeditions than it was to the siege the mountain strategy that tended to be the norm for the day. Despite not receiving much plaudits at the time, Gongga Shan was the highest summit reached by Americans at the time but the expedition was able to help fill in one of the few remaining blanks on the map.

If you’re an American Alpine Club member you can checkout Men against the clouds by logging into the AAC Library Catalog.

And regardless of if you’re an AAC member, you can find AAJ articles written about the expedition by following the links below:

Terris Moore’s AAJ article about the climb

Arthur Emmon’s AAJ article about the survey work

A short article by Nick Clinch that concisely summarizes the expedition

The Andrew J. Gilmour Collection

by Allison Albright

At the American Alpine Club Library, we’re very fortunate to have quite a few collections of photographs of climbing and mountaineering from the early 20th century. One of these, a collection of roughly 3000 photographic negatives dating from 1900 to about 1930, has been digitized in its entirety and made available to everyone.

It’s a great feeling to complete a project.

We’re excited to be able to increase access to this collection through digitization, which also reduces wear and tear on the original negatives and adds an additional layer of preservation.

This collection of photos belonged to Andrew J. Gilmour, a dermatologist living and working in New York who was an avid climber and active member of the American Alpine Club during the 1920s and 1930s. He did a number of ascents in the Alps, the Canadian Rockies, the Cascades and the Western U.S., as well as Wales and the Lake District in the UK. His photos show us a lot about climbing at that time, the techniques, equipment, conditions and the people and places involved. It also provides us with a glimpse of what the world was like about 100 years ago.

We’ve gathered some of our favorite images from this collection in the slideshows below. Enjoy!

To see more of these images, check out our Andrew J. Gilmour album on Flickr.


Climbing and Mountaineering

Photos of climbing parties and mountaineering expeditions from about 1910 to the mid 1930’s.

Equipment

Hobnail boots, hemp rope, canvas and silk tents and men’s and women’s climbing attire.

Summits

Men and women on top

Camps and Huts

Huge camps for gatherings with the Alpine Club of Canada, tents and lean-tos in the woods, Swiss Alpine Club huts - many of which are still in use today.

Travel

It was harder in those days to get to some of these remote locations. There were far fewer roads, almost no highways and air travel was still in its infancy. Trains, ships and horses were commonly used.

Life and Times

The world has changed a lot since 1900 - these photos illustrate just a few of the differences.

Places

Some gorgeous photos of some famous locations as they used to be.

Check out our Flickr account for more! Or, to view all the photos, head to our archival collections site and scroll down to Collection Tree.

Suggested reading:

For details of mountaineering and climbing in the first decades of the 20th century, check out the handbook Mountain Craft by Geoffrey Winthrop Young.

For more about some of the places depicted in these photos:
Mount Rainier a Climbing Guide by Mike Gauthier
Cascades Rock the 160 Best Multipitch Climbs of all Grades by Blake Herrington
The North Cascades by William Dietrich
Mont Blanc the Finest Routes: rock, snow, ice and mixed by Philippe Batoux
Mont Blanc: 5 routes to the summit by Franȯis Damilano
Swiss Rock Granite Bregaglia: a selected rock climbing guide by Chris Mellor
Canadian Rock select climbs of the west by Kevin McLane
Sport climbs in the Canadian Rockies by John Marin and Jon Jones
Mixed Climbs in the Canadian Rockies by Sean Isaac

For more information about the person who took these photos, you can read Gilmour’s obituary in the American Alpine Journal.

The Colorado Mountains: View from the Archives

Atop Mount Audubon, circa 1916-18.

Now more accessible than ever! Thanks to a grant from the Colorado Historical Records Advisory Board, we were able to process and digitize a portion of the Colorado Mountain Club Archives.

Located in the American Mountaineering Center, the Colorado Mountain Club (CMC) Archives are maintained by the staff of the American Alpine Club (AAC) Library. From April 2017 to May 2018, with a dedicated group of enthusiastic CMC & AAC volunteers, we organized, inventoried, rehoused, and digitized much of this collection. The most painful part was organizing the huge duplicate collection of Trail & Timberline back issues and flattening summit registers. Interested in purchasing back issues of the T&T? Contact us at library@americanalpineclub.org. Proceeds will go towards archives maintenance.


What's in the Colorado Mountain Club Archives?

The archives date back to before the founding of the Colorado Mountain Club in 1912. There are trip reports, photographs, lantern slides, scrapbooks, old gear, 'Save the Wildflowers' posters, and much more. Currently, most of the early trip reports (over 1,150) have been digitized and eight photo scrapbooks. We are gradually adding them to our Digital Collections website. As we create and catalog finding aids, you can find them in our catalog here.


Putting It All Together

Having all of these records inventoried and cataloged makes it so much easier for researchers to find information. For example, you can now find photographs from the 1915 Clear Creek Outing on our Digital Collections website, with a selection seen below.

By searching the inventories, you can pair those photographs with the Song Book written by the Club members, the Grays and Torreys trip report and the summit registers that were signed by the CMCers when they climbed Grays and Torreys on August 20, 1915. 


There are many more great records. Feel free to drop by the library and take a look. Keep an eye on our Digital Collections website as we are constantly adding more photographs and records.

This project was supported in part by an award from the Colorado Historical Records Advisory Board, through funding from the National Historical Publications and Records Commission (NHPRC), National Archives Records Administration. This project would not have been possible without the volunteers that inventoried, sorted, boxed, re-foldered, and scanned. Many thanks to Donna Anderson, Karyn Bocko, Dan Cohen, RoseMary Glista, Ann Hudgins, Peter Hunkar, Mike Lovette, Jan Martel, Barbara Munson, Roxy Rogers De Sole, Linda Rogers, Lin Wareham-Morris and Pat Yingst. 

Happy Anniversary, Gasherbrum I First Ascent!

by Eric Rueth

60 years ago today, Peter Schoening and Andy Kauffman topped a rounding ridge and had nowhere higher to go. After eight hours of climbing they found themselves on the summit of Gasherbrum I and became the only Americans to make a first ascent of an 8,000-meter peak.

"On July 4 all five os us started for Camp V which we hoped to establish at the 24,000-foot col between the south summit and the main peak" (Schoening, 1959).

To celebrate the ascent we're sharing some photo's from Andy Kauffman's collection.

To add some context here is the introduction to Pete Schoening's article from the 1959 American Alpine Club Journal and a link to the full article below.

"There is something exciting about expeditions. In part it must be the uncertainty of them. Perhaps this is adventure. But for Hidden Peak there was something even more. It could be the last chance for an American first ascent of an achttausender, and it seems extremely probable that first ascents of the fourteen achttausenders will become forever historically indicative of the mountaineering activity and ability of the various areas in the world.

Whether for adventure or history or whatever other reason, the ascent of Hidden Peak still required a party, permission and assistance from Pakistan, money, equipment, and an effort to carry out the attempt. Nick Clinch was the driving force behind the 1958 American Karakoram Expedition.* He was the "Director" and organizer.

Late in November 1957, Nick received Pakistani approval through the American Embassy in Karachi. From then on events began to occur at an increasing pace. Our freighter would leave New York by the end of March. In the middle of February as the party was being completed, I became a member. Besides Nick and myself, there were Andy Kauffman, Captain S. T. H. Risvi and Captain Mohd Akram of the Pakistan Army, Tom McCormack, Bob Swift, Dr. Tom Nevison, Gil Roberts, and Dick Irvin."

Click here to read the full "Ascent of Hidden Peak" article.

 

By Eric Rueth

AAC Creates Yosemite Timeline with NativesOutdoors

"Yosemite Valley (Ahwahnee in the language of the Ahwahnechee, who originally inhabited the area) has long been a bastion for American climbing, from the first ascent of the NW Face of Half Dome (Tissaack) to the first free solo of El Cap (Tutocanula). The AAC has been there nearly every step of the complicated (and sometimes dark) way—from guiding the establishment of the park to fighting for climbing as a legitimate use of wilderness in National Parks and advocating for the preservation and 2018 improvements to Camp 4, the iconic climbers' campground."

We've worked with NativesOutdoors to put together this resource for all things Yosemite climbing and history. Check it out below.

Yosemite (Ahwahnee) THROUGH THE YEARS

K2 1953: The Third American Karakoram Expedition

by Eric Rueth

Camp V (22,000 ft.) with Mashrabrum [sic] in the background. Photo, Third American Karakoram Expedition.

For the third and final installment of our pre-2018 Annual Benefit Dinner Americans on K2 wrap-up, we’ll take a look at the Third American Karakoram Expedition in 1953. It doesn’t seem possible to start this blog post better than the way Robert Bates started his article about the expedition in the 1954 American Alpine Club Journal,

 “On 2 August 1953 all eight members of the climbing party of the Third American Karakoram Expedition, in excellent physical condition, were camped at 25,500 feet on K2 with ten days’ food. The summit of the second highest mountain in the world (28,250 ft.) rose less than 3000 feet above us. It was our hope to establish two men at Camp IX, at 27,000 feet or slightly higher, on August 3rd; and on the following day, if all went well, to thrust at the summit.”

The men high up on K2 were Dr. Charles Houston, Robert Bates, George Bell, Robert Craig, Arthur Gilkey, Dee Molenaar, Peter Schoening and Capt. H. R. A. Streather.  After the 1938 First American Karakoram Expedition, Houston and Bates had been dreaming of returning to K2. Delayed by World War II and political conflicts between India and Pakistan they were finally able to return to K2 15 years later for a second attempt at the summit.

The optimism of reaching the summit by those eight men on August 2nd was met with a multi-day storm. At Camp VIII (25,500 ft.), the party was battered by heavy winds. One tent was completely ripped apart, forcing its occupants to seek refuge and residence in nearby tents. Even worse, the wind made keeping stoves alight impossible. Without being able to keep the stoves consistently lit, the party could not melt enough snow to stay hydrated.

After five days of being tent bound and becoming increasingly dehydrated, the storm began to lull. Now that it was possible to hear each other over the wind discussion of pushing higher up the mountain arose. But again optimism was met with disaster. When Gilkey emerged from his tent on April 7th, he immediately passed out.

Gilkey passed out from the pain that a charley horse had caused him. That charley horse turned out to be thrombophlebitis. Gilkey had blood clots in his leg. Getting Gilkey off of the mountain was now the main objective but hope still remained for an attempt on the summit. The party immediately broke camp to begin the descent, only to be turned back by the likelihood of an avalanche along the route. The storm raged on and the party bunkered down. On August 11th, the party’s hand was forced, Gilkey now had a clot in his other leg and more seriously in his lungs.

Capt. Streather at Camp III. Photo, Third American Karakoram Expedition

With the storm still raging, there was no other option than to descend. Any thoughts of a summit attempt were abandoned. Getting Gilkey down was now the only objective. Gilkey, who was unable to walk, was wrapped in his sleeping bag and the remnants of the destroyed tent; he would have to be lowered down the mountain.

The going was slow and required every ounce of strength and focus from the party. The route used to climb up the mountain did not work for descending now that Gilkey had to be lowered. Schoening and Molenaar led the descent by finding a suitable route. The rest of the party would belay Gilkey and each other.

On the steepest pitch of lowering, the storm obscured the line of sight and made vocal communication with others below futile. First Schoening and Molenaar disappeared into the storm. Then Craig escorted Gilkey while he was being lowered until he too disappeared. Streather descended to a point where he could see Craig’s arm signals and relay commands to the rest of the party belaying. Already physically exhausted by the task of lowering Gilkey and being battered by the storm, those belaying were in for a test. Streather turned to the group and shouted, “Hold tight! They’re being carried down in an avalanche!” The group, the ropes, and the anchors held fast. Craig, who was not tied into any ropes, grabbed the ropes lowering Gilkey and held on for the duration.

Following the avalanche, the party was absolutely exhausted. The party was close to the small ledge that served as Camp VII. Craig traversed to the Camp VII to gather himself after surviving the avalanche and to attempt to enlarge the ledge so the entire party could recuperate from the physically and mentally demanding day.

With Craig at Camp VII, the rest of party continued the extremely slow process of working their way towards the ledge. Bell was working his way over a difficult stretch of an ice gully when another catastrophic event occurred, Bell lost his purchase and started falling down the mountain. The hard ice prevented a self-arrest by Bell and Streather, who was tied into the other end of Bell's rope. The location of the pair when they fell set off a chain reaction that would send the entire expedition, except for Craig alone at Camp VII, down the mountain to the Godwin-Austin Glacier two miles below.

Only the entire expedition didn’t disappear over the edge of the mountain and fall two miles through the void. As members one by one were caught up in ropes and pulled from their feet, they tumbled and somersaulted downwards picking up momentum along the way until all of a sudden the rope grew taught. Schoening arrested the fall of his six companions in a moment that will forever be known as, “the belay.”

The entanglement that caused the catastrophic fall down the mountain also worked to save the expedition. Various injuries and lost gear resulted but the expedition suffered no loss of members.

This diagram by Clarence Doore follows an illustration by Dee Molenaar. It is one display at the American Mountaineering Museum.

Eventually making it to Camp VII the ledge still needed to be bigger before tents could be set up and the party could put the horrific day behind them. Gilkey was secured with two ice axes beneath a rock rib while the space was expanded. When camp construction was completed Streather, Craig and Bates went to retrieve him. Only, upon their arrival at the rock rib they found a bare slope. Gilkey and his anchors were gone, swept away by an avalanche.

The night that followed the horrific day would offer little rest. The party had been pushed to the limit physically, mentally, and emotionally and were now cramped together in two tents on a precarious ledge. The storm still raged on and Houston, who had suffered a concussion, would wake up in a state of confusion consequently waking up everyone else.

The next day the storm continued and so did the party. It took four days for the battered party to descend from Camp VII to Camp II. At Camp II, the party was met by porters who provided food and comfort after their heroic and tragic descent.

As they departed the mountain, the expedition built a large cairn memorial for Gilkey near the confluence of the Savoia and Godwin-Austen Glaciers. The memorial still stands to this day and has grown to be more than a memorial only to Art Gilkey; the Gilkey Memorial is now used to remember all who have perished on the Savage Mountain.

With the conclusion of the 1953, there had been three attempts made by Americans on K2. The first had been successful as a reconnaissance but failed to reach the summit. The following two ended without the summit being reached and tragic loss of life. Americans had paid a high price for their efforts on the mountain and it wouldn’t be until 1978 that the mountain would finally yield to Americans.

Read about the Second American Karakoram Expedition here.

Read about the First American Karakoram Expedition here.

*These blog posts were an attempt to sum up the American attempts on K2 prior to the successful expedition in 1978. Unfortunately they leave out a lot of the nitty gritty details and personalities of those involved. If your interests have been piqued you can read the full expedition reports in the American Alpine Club Journal at publications.americanalpineclub.org or if you're an AAC member you can checkout some of the many books about K2 in the AAC Library at booksearch.americanalpineclub.org.

By Eric Rueth

K2 1939: The Second American Karakoram Expedition

by Eric Rueth

K2. Jack Durrance Collection.

After the successful reconnaissance of K2 in 1938, the Second American Karakoram Expedition was poised to make history. A route on the Abruzzi Ridge had been established up to 26,000 ft. with locations for campsites and beta on the difficult sections of climbing. If weather permitted, there seemed to be no good reason why history would not remember the Second American Karakoram Expedition as the first to summit K2 and the first to conquer an 8,000m peak. But the events would play out differently on the mountain and history now remembers the 1939 expedition for its tragedy and the controversy that followed.

The party that arrived at the base of K2 in 1939 was not a strong one. It was originally planned to include 10 members but after dropouts for various reasons it dwindled to five. The biggest issue with the loss of these members was that they were the five most qualified members (excluding Wiessner) and left the expedition with no returning members of the 1938 expedition. A last minute addition brought the party up to six and included: Fritz Wiessner, Eaton Cromwell, George Sheldon, Chappel Cranmer, Dudley Wolfe, Jack Durrance (the last minute addition). They were also accompanied by a British Transport Officer, Lt. George Trench and 8 Sherpa who climbed up the mountain: Lama, Kikuli, Dawa, Tendrup, Kitar, Tsering, Phinsoo, and Sonam.

1939 Expedition members. Left to right, standing: George Sheldon, Chappell Cranmer, Jack Durrance, George Trench; seated: Eaton Cromwell, Fritz Wiessner, Dudley Wolfe. Jack Durrance Collection

The weakness of the team was not that any of the members were on the team; it was that these members were the team. Each team member had their strengths but unfortunately also their limitations. As climbers kept dropping out of the expedition, it lost its well-rounded and experienced members that could have potentially brought the best out of the team. Fritz Wiessner was the only fully qualified and experienced climber to arrive at K2. To add to the weakness of the team, a number of events weakened it further.

First was that due to the timing of Durrance’s addition, his boots were set to arrive at some point after the party’s arrival at K2. The boots finally arrived four weeks after the party was making their way up the mountain. Durrance proved to be one of the harder working team members but was hindered by his footwear. Without his high altitude boots he was limited to staying below 20,000 ft. Even with staying at the lower camps Durrance’s feet were taking a beating and hindering his productivity.

The second event was one that had the expedition not ended in disaster probably would have gone unnoticed. When Wiessner and Wolfe were gathering the supplies for the expedition they did not purchase enough snow goggles for the porters. Expedition members created makeshift glasses by cutting narrow slits into pieces of cardboard. Shortly after beginning the days march toward K2 three porters suffered from snow blindness. The three were sent back to Askole and their loads were divided between Cranmer, Durrance, Sheldon, and Trench. The extra weight effectively created a double-carry for the four.

The third event would weaken the expedition’s manpower by one sixth.  On May 30th, Cranmer spent some time in a crevasse trying to retrieve a tarpaulin that was dropped by one of the porters. Cranmer emerged with the tarpaulin but also severely chilled and exhausted. Cranmer then carried the extra weight from the loss of porters to snow blindness on May 31st adding even more exhaustion. Cranmer rose from his tent on June 1st to announce that he did not feel well before he retreated back inside. Hours later, Cranmer would be coughing up more than three coffee cups worth of a, “clear, frothy fluid” and was slipping in and out of states of delirium and consciousness. Years later Durrance stated, “I never knew anyone could be so sick and stay alive.”

Now at the mountain and before committing to the difficult climbing on the Abruzzi Ridge, Fritz and Cromwell took a day to get a view of northeast ridge. But as it was in 1938, no viable route presented itself. So, the Abruzzi Ridge was the route to the summit. Loads were carried and routes established following the footsteps of the year before. To avoid the dangers of rock fall Camp III (20,700 ft.) was used only as a supply cache.

As the route progressed upward, almost exclusively led by Wiessner, morale began to decline. Storms battered the expedition and battered ambition. A chasm was beginning to open in the expedition, one of motivation and physical distance. Wiessner and Wolfe never wavered in their ambition or optimism of reaching the summit, while the rest of the members seemed to grow lethargic and hesitant to continue pushing up the mountain. Wiessner and Wolfe continued up while the majority of the expedition tended to stay in the lower camps with Durrance typically somewhere in between.

The battering storms that weakened morale also made a physical impact on the team. The cold of the storms nipped Sheldon’s toes. Sheldon continued working on the mountain until the weather improved. With the arrival of warmer weather his feet began to swell and he could do little more than hobble, which he did down to basecamp. Physically, two of the six of the expedition members were incapacitated.

The 1939 expedition would establish two camps higher than the previous year. Camp VIII was established at 25,300 ft. and Camp IX at 26,050 ft. Both were stocked well enough to support a push to the summit. July 18th saw an attempt for the summit from Camp IX by Wiessner and Lama. Meanwhile, Wolfe was well supplied but alone at Camp VIII. Durrance, the closest American to Wolfe was at Camp II (19,300 ft.).

It was a harrowing attack that brought the pair to 27,500 ft. just 700 ft. from the summit. Wiessner wanted to continue upwards but Lama did not. The time was 6:30 p.m. and proceeding upward would mean descending at night. Wiessner saw the route that lay ahead and was confident they would be able to reach the summit on the second attempt.

On the retreat to Camp IX, Lama’s crampons that were strapped to his pack became tangled in rope and ended up being lost. On the second attempt the loss of crampons came into play. In order to ascend without crampons step cutting became necessary and it was apparent that the task would take too long. So the team descended again, this time to Camp VIII, to restock.

Jack Durrance Collection

Wolfe informed the pair upon their arrival that no loads from below came up during their absence. This left the provisions at Camp VIII too little to support another summit attempt and another descent was made. Now a trio, Wiessner, Lama and Wolfe made their way to Camp VII. What was found at Camp VII was devastating and exacerbated by a fall that Wolfe had taken en route where he lost his sleeping bag. The majority of the supplies at the camp had been stripped leaving the trio with one air mattress and one sleeping bag.

With much frustration and confusion about their current situation, Wolfe would remain at Camp VII while Wiessner and Lama would continue downward to Camp VI. A deserted Camp VI saw the duo continue downward only to find empty camps littering the route. After an awful night’s sleep wrapped in a tent at Camp II, Wiessner and Lama made their way into basecamp exhausted and suffering from the cold. There would be no more attempts for the summit.

Wolfe still lay alone 24,000 ft. and Durrance, Dawa, Phinsoo and Kitar started up to retrieve him. On July 25th they ascended to Camp IV. Durrance and Dawa were ill the next day so Phinsoo and Kitar continued on the Camp VI. Camp VI also saw the arrival of Kikuli and Tsering who in a single day ascended from basecamp, 6,900 ft. below! The first contact with Wolfe on July 29th found him in dismal condition. He convinced his rescuers to come back for him on the morrow when he would be ready.

Poor weather delayed their second attempt until July 31st. With the weather still poor Kikuli, Kitar and Phinsoo went to retrieve Wolfe. On August 2nd Tsering returned to basecamp alone. He relayed the previous days’ activities and that he hadn’t seen or heard from the neither three Sherpa nor Wolfe since the second attempt to retrieve Wolfe departed Camp VI.

One more attempt was made to reach the high camps to see if there was any sign of life high up on the mountain, but Camp II would be the highest they could reach. On August 9th Kikuli, Kitar, Phinsoo and Wolfe were presumed dead and the expedition departed from K2.

Pasang Kikuli. Jack Durrance Collection

Read about the 1938 Reconnaissance of K2 here. 

Read about the 1953 Third American Karakoram Expedition here.

*Photos from the Jack Durrance Collection restored by The Photo Mirage Inc.

By Eric Rueth