In October, Luka Lindic of Slovenia and Fanny Schmutz of France completed a new alpine route on a 5,600m peak in the remote Genyen Massif of western Sichuan Province, China. The ascent, graded VII A1, 700m, took place near the Tibetan border, an area that remains largely unexplored by mountaineers.

The pair redirected to the Genyen Valley after their initial plan fell through due to permit issues. Local motorcyclists transported them from the valley entrance to a river, where they established their base camp.

For acclimatization, Lindic and Schmutz first ascended a nearby 5,200m peak via a 300m route. After a rest, they targeted the west-facing wall of the 5,600m peak, called Garmunei Gou. Bivouacking below the wall for an early start, they experienced colder conditions than expected, with snow complicating the shaded sections.

The climbers cached their bivouac gear midway up the route to climb more efficiently. The upper headwall was steep with sparse protection, requiring traverses, a diagonal rappel, and brief aid climbing. They summited at night, grading the route VII A1. The descent involved rappels back to their cached gear around 3 am. Here, they rested before returning to base camp the next day.

Schmutz sustained an ankle sprain during a subsequent scouting trip, prompting the team to refrain from climbing anything further.

The Genyen Massif, centered around the 6,204m Ge'nyen peak (the third-highest in Sichuan), has dozens of mountains, many unclimbed, in the Garze Tibetan Autonomous Prefecture.

This autumn, two young alpinists from the UK and Ireland achieved a remarkable new route on a 6,000'er, Aikache Chhok, in Pakistan's Karakoram range.

James Price and George Ponsonby connected through the Young Alpinists Group, a mentorship program for emerging climbers. They teamed up after a group trip to Scotland, where members pitched expedition ideas. During the trip, they elected to go with Price's proposal for a climb in Pakistan.

Price had been dealing with a painful ankle tendon injury and even planned to climb in a ski boot for support. However, the issue eased at base camp. Ponsonby spent the summer as a commercial salmon fisher in Alaska, putting in long hours that built strength but left no time for climbing-specific training. With modest ambitions, they packed food for five days and fuel for seven, arriving without a fixed objective or detailed photos of potential lines.

Choosing the line

After exploring valleys near the Batura Wall, they settled on a striking ridge on the Northwest Face of Aikache Chhok, a 6,000m+ peak in the Hachindar Massif. An Italian team first climbed the mountain in 1983 from the southeast.

Price and Ponsonby targeted a new 3,000m line from the north. On October 13, they began with good progress: up a main gully, into a side gully, then mixed pitches up to M5/M6, linking snowfields toward the ridge. They ended the day three pitches short, feeling optimistic about their five-day timeline.

Setbacks

Day two changed everything, with only three pitches gained through aid climbing on loose, overhanging rock around M7/A2+. The cold, shady north face felt reminiscent of famous European walls. They continued up mixed terrain beside the ridge, avoiding sections too technical for alpine boots, and bivouacked under a rock step.

Efforts to traverse ice ramps in order to bypass another rock band led to dead ends, forcing a low-point bivouac. In camp, they tried to make custard, but it turned into an inedible mess. Bummed, this was the closest they came to retreating, but they opted for one more push.

The next day involved relentless ice climbing, eight full rope-length pitches up to AI5 on rock-hard glacial ice, breaking screws and chipping picks, ending in darkness back on the ridge.

Exhaustion deepened on the following days. Facing nearly 1,000m of slabby black ice interspersed with poor rock, they invented the "Karakoram flop": simul-climbing until calves and toes burned unbearably, then clipping directly to an axe, fully relaxing (even letting the pack pull backward), before placing the next screw. Bivouacs were basic, in crevasses or under overhangs, with food running low and feet battered.

Final push

Day seven brought more simul-climbing on snow, an overhanging ice step, and steep black ice to a ridge between a mini-summit and the main one. Brief sunshine gave way to a whiteout and deep snow, prolonging the summit ridge traverse. The mist cleared just enough to reveal a corniced summit two pitches ahead. Too drained to climb further in poor visibility, they pitched their small tent and shivered through the night, focused on keeping extremities warm.

On day eight, they shared their final energy bar, and clear weather allowed them to breach the cornice and summit. They hurried down without confirming the exact height, though a Garmin read 6,663m one pitch below. (Other sources put the peak’s height at a modest 6,595m.)

They descended over unseen terrain because persistent clouds had obscured views from Base Camp. It involved rappels off V-threads, complex glacier crossings, passes over seracs, and quick moves under threat. They bivouacked again around 5,000m, comforted by headlamp signals from below, before reaching base camp on October 21. The climb took nine days total, and they finished slimmer, but without frostbite.

Local shepherds and hunters offered them generous hospitality, lending huts, sharing chai, milk, butter, and food, while watching progress through binoculars and flashing lights at night. This support made the massive face feel less isolating.

They named their new route Secrets, Shepherds, Sex, and Serendipity after a humorous screenplay the pair crafted while waiting out bad weather at base camp. They graded the climb M7 AI5 A2+.

It was the second overall ascent of Aikache Chhok.

It's time for our annual countdown of ExplorersWeb's most interesting expeditions of the year. From December 21 to December 30, we'll summarize our favorites and make a case for why we liked them so much. Today, Kilian Jornet's speed linkup of all 72 of the 14,000-foot peaks in the Lower 48 by human power alone.

This was one of Jornet's most ambitious projects yet -- straightforward in concept but immense in scope. He would climb and connect all those 14'ers by running, hiking, climbing, and cycling. No motorized transport was allowed at any point, echoing the style of his 2024 Alpine Connections project in Europe.

The challenge took place in three states: Colorado, which holds most of the 14,000'ers; California, with a dozen in the Sierra Nevada; and Washington, home to a big volcano in the Cascades -- 72 peaks in all.

Jornet's 14,000'ers excluded a couple of inaccessible ones on private land, such as Culebra Peak and Mount Bross in Colorado. He drew inspiration from the wild landscapes of the American West, community suggestions shared on social media, and input from friends like ultrarunner and iRunFar editor Meghan Hicks. Routes incorporated classic traverses proposed by locals, like Nolan's 14 in Colorado's Sawatch Range.

The start

Jornet kicked off on September 3, starting with Longs Peak in Colorado's Rocky Mountain National Park. He confronted some of the most demanding sections at the beginning. His first major effort was the LA Freeway traverse along the Continental Divide, linking Longs Peak to South Arapaho Peak while staying above 12,000 feet for much of the way.

He finished in about 16 hours, despite arriving in the United States with little acclimatization and battling jet lag. Afternoon storms, a common hurdle in Colorado, forced adjustments early on, adding hours to his days of summiting Front Range peaks like Mount Blue Sky (formerly Evans), Bierstadt, Grays, and Torreys.

In the first few days, Jornet notched 13 summits. He covered around 570km and logged nearly 80 hours of activity. He pushed through clusters like the Mosquito Range peaks -- Democrat, Lincoln, and Sherman -- and made quick ascents, such as on Holy Cross in under four hours for the round trip.

With minimal rest, fatigue built quickly. He often slept for just a few hours a night in campgrounds or along the trail. One supposed "rest" day involved an 87km bike ride over Independence Pass to the next range.

Ramping up

As September progressed, the intensity ramped up. Jornet tackled the notorious Elks Traverse southwest of Aspen, linking seven technical 14,000'ers, including Capitol Peak, Snowmass, the Maroon Bells, Pyramid, and Castle, over an 80km route. This took three nonstop days and ended at 2 am on September 9. During that whole time, he managed only a little sleep amid storms and high exposure.

Soon after, he completed Nolan's 14, a 161km line across 14 peaks in the Sawatch, including standouts like Mount Massive and Mount Elbert (the highest in the Rockies). He ran much of this solo into the night, joining runner Sage Canaday for the final three. He finished at dawn on September 11, after about 47 hours of continuous movement, buoyed -- if you can call it that -- by just a 30-minute nap.

Pushing through Colorado’s peaks

Wildfires forced reroutes, and changing weather brought rain, storms, and cold. One particularly grueling day included a 160km bike ride in pouring rain to Pikes Peak, followed by a fast ascent and descent in under four hours.

By midway through the Colorado section, Jornet had summited 33 of the state's 58 accessible 14,000'ers, leaving 25 to go. He often climbed multiple peaks in a single push, sometimes five in 14 hours, interspersed with 75-80km of daily biking on gravel roads and passes.

After 16 relentless days in Colorado, Jornet wrapped up the last of the state's 58 peaks above 14,000 feet. In that stretch alone, he covered 1,942km, with 78,004m of elevation gain, roughly the height of nine Everests.

About half the distance was on foot or climbing, the rest cycling. He averaged 16.5 hours of activity per day, running marathon distances and biking long hauls, while dealing with altitude, bad weather, and wildfires. Tired but determined, he then pedaled south and west through dry, hot deserts toward California's Sierra Nevada.

From Sierra to the Cascades

Jornet covered this California stage efficiently and soon knocked off the state's 12 14,000'ers, including the highest in the lower 48, Mount Whitney. At one point, he cycled 626km in under 30 hours. From there, he continued north, summiting Mount Shasta on September 30 amid snow and brutal winds that dropped the windchill to -20°C.

With Shasta as his 71st peak, only Mount Rainier and its subsidiary, Liberty Cap, remained. Jornet biked a staggering 788km in just three days across Oregon into Washington, pushing through cumulative fatigue. His biometric data showed his average sleep dipped below five hours nightly, his heart rate variability dropped sharply, and his resting heart rate climbed.

72 united by human power

On October 4, 31 days after starting at Longs Peak, Jornet reached Mount Rainier's summit. Facing subzero temperatures, glacial ice, and technical climbing, this final ascent marked the completion of all 72 accessible 14,000'ers. In total, he had traveled over 5,000km by foot and bike, averaging more than 160km per day. The journey spanned extreme contrasts, from desert heat above 38°C to freezing Cascade winds.

Throughout, Jornet shared that the project was as much about the "quiet miles" and "shared ridges" between the summits as the peaks themselves. He valued the process, the wild spaces, and the community input that shaped his routes. This endeavor stood as a historic linking of America's high peaks, building on Jornet's legacy of pushing human limits in the mountains.

Four climbers went missing on New Zealand mountains this weekend. Authorities located one deceased pair and removed their bodies from Sabre Peak in Fiordland National Park on Sunday. But another two climbers on Aoraki-Mt. Cook are overdue, with weather conditions hindering searchers.

Worsening weather

Rescue teams entered the Fiordland National Park early on Saturday night, after two climbers failed to return. They located one body that night, and the other on Sunday. However, as weather conditions worsened, the location of their remains high on Sabre Peak became inaccessible.

The north buttress of Sabre Peak features 500m of exposed rock and ice and is popular with serious, experienced climbers. Though authorities were eventually able to extract the climbers' bodies, police described it as "a difficult and technical rescue."

An official cause of death has not been released, but it should come out with the coroner's report. Given the circumstances, a fall is likely.

The next day, another two climbers were also overdue, this time on Aoraki-Mt. Cook. Again, the weather has hindered search and rescue efforts. Much of New Zealand lies within the infamous "Roaring Forties," characterized by strong winds and heavy rainfall. The latest weather reports indicate that the wind and rain are expected to stop for a time on Wednesday, allowing search teams to enter the area.

New Zealand's deadly mountains

The New Zealand Mountain Safety Council released a statement in response to the two latest incidents, calling them "a sobering reminder of the seriousness of Aotearoa’s [New Zealand's] complex and challenging alpine environments."

They noted that good weather has led to more climbing on the high peaks of the South Island, but good weather doesn't prevent them from turning deadly.

The 2,162m Sabre Peak was first summited in 1954. Since then, many climbers have been injured and killed there. Two climbers perished in 2017, and another two men in 2020. Aoraki has an even more tragic history.

Only three weeks ago, guide Thomas Vialletet and his client, Kellam Conover, fell to their deaths on Aoraki. At 3,724m, Aoraki is the highest peak in New Zealand, and guides consider it a challenging climb, as changing weather and poor visibility frequently lead to accidents. During 2019-2020, for example, there were 24 search-and-rescue operations.

A New Zealand Geographic article found the Aoraki visitor's center record books listed 78 fatalities on the mountain since the death of George Napier in 1907. That article was from 2016. That list is now at least a dozen names longer.

When tragedies do occur, authorities often struggle to locate and recover bodies. David Moen, a 19-year-old climber, went missing on Aoraki in 1973, and his remains were only found in 2015. The bodies of three climbers who went missing there in 2024 have still not been located.

Simone Moro of Italy was airlifted to a hospital in Kathmandu today after suffering a heart attack while in the village of Khare in Nepal. Three days ago, he speed climbed up Mera Peak (6,476m).

Moro, 58, was in the Mera Peak area of the Khumbu Valley, acclimatizing for an alpine-style climb on winter Manaslu with Nima Rinji Sherpa of Nepal and Oswald Pereira of Poland. Moro and Nima Rinji arrived in Khare village on Sunday, December 7. Their acclimatization plan involved climbing Mera Peak at least twice and possibly sleeping on its summit.

View this post on Instagram

See this post on Instagram

Sick upon return

On December 10, Moro and Nima Rinji set off from Mera's high camp (at around 5,800m) and reached the top in 2 hours and 20 minutes, The Tourism Times reports.

Apparently, Moro felt sick once back in Khare, and they called for an emergency evacuation.

"According to hospital officials, Moro underwent coronary artery bypass graft surgery and is currently receiving treatment in the intensive care unit at HAMS Hospital," The Tourism Times noted. "Doctors attending him said his condition is stable."

Doctors expect Moro to recover, and he will likely make an official announcement once discharged from the hospital. The professional climber also works in Nepal every spring as a rescue helicopter pilot.

Winter preparation

Mera Peak is a snowy, straightforward trekking peak, but it is also the highest trekking peak in Nepal. Moro had explained that the 6,476m summit is approximately the same altitude as Manaslu's Camp 3, making it perfect for acclimatization before his team begins work on Manaslu on December 21, at the start of astronomical winter.

Pereira joined the expedition at the last minute. He reached Khare as Moro and Nima Rinji summited Mera Peak, and climbed up on his own one day later. He made an impressively fast push from Khare to the summit, covering the 1,600 vertical meters in 6 hours and 15 minutes. He topped out just three days after leaving Poland.

Elusive Manaslu

Moro is the only climber who has made four first winter ascents on 8,000m peaks: Shisha Pangma (2005), Makalu (2009), Gasherbrum II (2011), and Nanga Parbat (2016). Moro has attempted to climb Manaslu in winter six times, but bad conditions have prevented him from attempting the mountain as he wanted, in an alpine-style push from base to summit.

Last year, Nima Rinji Sherpa, 19, became the youngest person to summit the 14 8,000’ers. This expedition was meant to be his first experience climbing one of the bigger peaks in alpine style. It is unclear whether Nima Rinji and Pereira will resume the expedition and climb winter Manaslu as originally planned.

“And at night you will look up at the stars. Where I live everything is so small that I cannot show you where my star is to be found. It is better like that. My star will just be one of the stars, for you. And so you will love to watch all the stars in the heavens…they will all be your friends.”
— Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

In the rugged embrace of mountains, skies, and wild trails, 2025 claimed the lives of many mountaineers, adventurers, and outdoor personalities. The full list is much longer than we can include here, but all have our utmost respect.

This is for the ones who became stars in 2025.

Mountaineers

Virginio Epis

Virginio Epis, Italian ski mountaineer and high-altitude climber, was a master of blending Nordic precision with Himalayan audacity. He died on February 8, at age 93, of pneumonia at a hospital in Aosta.

Epis summited Everest in 1973 as part of the Italian Everest Expedition led by Guido Monzino, a 63-member military-backed team that marked Italy's first successful ascent of the world's highest peak. During the descent, amid a fierce blizzard and oxygen shortage, he shared his oxygen cylinder in an act of selflessness. The expedition earned him acclaim as "the skier who touched the roof of the world."

Epis pioneered numerous routes in the Mont Blanc massif and the Dolomites, including innovative ski descents that fused climbing with freeride artistry. His routes remain test pieces for elite alpinists.

François Labande

French mountaineer, ecologist, and writer François Labande — a philosopher of the peaks who wove environmental ethics into every ascent — died on March 20, aged 83, at home in La Salle-les-Alpes.

A Groupe de Haute-Montagne stalwart since 1981, he authored Traces Ecrites (blending autobiography and alpine lore) and edited Cimes, another piece of introspective mountaineering literature.

Labande's climbs in the Oisans, Ecrins, and Mont Blanc massif promoted sustainable practices. He helped shape conservation practices as Mountain Wilderness France founder and president (1995–2002).

Labande climbed alpine classics like the south face of La Meije, the south pillar of the Barre des Ecrins, and the northeast face of Piz Badile, while pioneering dozens of routes in the Ecrins. His topos Guide du Haut-Dauphiné ("the Labande") and Guide du Mont Blanc became alpinists' bibles.

Generl Buhl

Generl Buhl, Austrian mountaineering matriarch and wife of legend Hermann Buhl, died on March 8, at age 99. Generl embodied resilience, raising three daughters while preserving Buhl's legacy through memoirs and the Hermann Buhl Museum in Ramsau.

An accomplished alpinist herself, Buhl notched women's first ascents on the south wall of the Kleine Mühlsturzhorn, the Kleine Trichter on the Hohe Goll, and the south edge of the Third Watzmannkind in the Berchtesgaden Alps. Her story of supporting expeditions amid post-war hardship (organizing tours and driving Hermann across Europe after his frostbitten toe amputation) highlighted women's unseen roles in early mountaineering.

Yuri Viktorovich Smirnov

Yuri Viktorovich Smirnov, a prominent Leningrad mountaineer and Master of Sports of the former USSR, passed away on March 9, at age 79. An electrical engineering graduate, he made ascents from 1964–1989, earned the "Rescue Team" badge in 1968, and took part in over 30 rescue operations. He was a major figure in Russian rock climbing, becoming a highest-category coach (trained five Masters of Sports), the first international-category judge in the USSR (1989), and preparing routes and judging competitions for over 20 years.

Smirnov held numerous leadership roles (chairman of judges’ boards, vice-president of the Russian Climbing Federation, etc.) and designed and built more than 20 climbing walls across Russia. He founded the Nevskie Vertikali youth competitions and served as chief judge of the Rock Climbing for All Festival.

Rima Sherpa and Ngima Tashi Sherpa

On April 7, a large avalanche swept the section between Camp 2 and Camp 3 on Annapurna I, while a rope-fixing team was working. Rima Rinje Sherpa and Ngima Tashi Sherpa were carrying oxygen cylinders up the route when the slide caught them and swept them into a crevasse. Climbers in Camp 3 saw the accident but could not help. A search team led by Chhang Dawa Sherpa located the bodies two days later.

Yuri Contreras Cedi

Mexican orthopedic surgeon and Himalayan trailblazer, Yuri Contreras Cedi, died of a heart attack on May 4 at 62, while taking part in a cycling event in Cancun.

Cedi summited Everest four times (1996 via the south route from Nepal, 1997 via the north route from Tibet, plus twice more) and summited several other 8,000m peaks, including Lhotse, Cho Oyu, Manaslu, Shisha Pangma, Gasherbrum II, Broad Peak, K2, and Makalu. He was the first person from his country to climb Everest by two distinct routes. He miraculously survived sliding hundreds of meters down Makalu in 2022.

A Leon resident since the 1990s, he mentored underrepresented youth at clinics and authored guides on high-altitude physiology. An avid cyclist, Cedi's final social media post -- Sobre dos ruedas, el mundo deja de ser rutina y se vuelve aventura ("On two wheels, the world ceases to be routine and becomes an adventure") -- captured his spirit.

Gleb Sokolov

Russian Gleb Sokolov is one of just three people to summit all three peaks of the Lhotse massif. He died on May 9, at age 71, in Novosibirsk, Russia. Sokolov's climbing CV is impressive, with a 1996 Makalu ascent, Lhotse achievements (Lhotse Main in 1997 and 2000, Lhotse Shar in 1998, and Lhotse Middle in 2001), an Everest North Face climb in 2004, and the Snow Leopard title thanks to over 35 ascents of 7,000m peaks.

Sokolov's photography captured the sublime terror of the 8,000'ers, and his complex, intellectual character proved that the mountains demand not just strength, but soul too.

Andrzej Matuszyk

Andrzej Matuszyk, Polish alpinist, professor, and trainer, died on May 8, at 89, in Krakow. As an emeritus professor and long-time head of the Alpine Department at the Academy of Physical Education in Poland, Matuszyk shaped Polish mountaineering through texts on extreme activity, avalanche science, and ethics. His winter ascents in the High Tatras during the 1970s and his 1973 Spitsbergen expedition (first Polish passages in the Hornsundtind region) positioned Poland as a global leader in alpinism. He also participated in the 1975 Tirich Mir expedition.

Lucas Buzzeiro

Lucas Buzzeiro, Argentine AAGM mountain guide and ski instructor, died on May 10 at 49. He suffered a 300m+ fall in the Couloir des Cosmiques in the Mont Blanc massif while descending on skis.

Buzzeiro's local roots fueled his guiding career in Patagonia, where he worked independently and contributed to community initiatives. An AAGM board member and delegate for Bariloche guides, he was co-concessionaire of the Refugio Laguna Ilon with Andi Lamuniere, creating a popular trekking destination. He had a passion for freeride skiing and was a youth mentor through the Club Andino Bariloche's Escuela Juvenil de Montana.

Nick Phaliani

Nick Phaliani, a Georgian IFMGA-certified guide from Mestia, died on May 22 at 29. He died in a fatal fall from the south face of Mount Ushba during a four-person expedition.

Phaliani founded a Mestia-based tour company offering trips to demanding peaks like Ushba, the so-called Matterhorn of the Caucasus. He was featured in the 2022 film Kastanistan with Fabian Lentsch, and his freeride lines in untouched zones grew Georgia's snow sports scene.

Vaclav Ruzhevsky

Vaclav Ruzhevsky, a native Czech who became a Soviet alpinist and revered instructor, died on June 1 at 90.

Ruzhevsky's Caucasus ascents in the 1960s and 1970s, including winter firsts and routes with legends like Mikhail Khergiani, embodied the rigorous Soviet-era style. As a long-time instructor and chief of rescue/training at Ullu-Tau, he trained generations --including nine Masters of Sports, three of whom became Masters of International Class -- and championed ethical, skillful alpinism. A quiet pillar of the community, his endurance, partnerships, and dedication inspired Eastern climbers to embrace the mountains.

Cristian Brenna

Cristian Brenna, Italian rock savant, national team coach, and Guardia di Finanza rescuer, died on June 3 at age 54. He died in a 100m+ fall on Monte Biaena while out with a companion. A 1990s competition phenom with 8c+ redpoints and onsight ascents up to 8b+, Brenna's coached Olympic hopefuls and youth champions.

Brenna was active in bolting routes in the Arco area and engaged in ethics debates that enriched sport climbing. He participated in hundreds of rescues as a Guardia di Finanza alpine rescuer. A pioneer of demanding lines in Patagonia -- like the first ascent of Cerro Piergiorgio's northwest face with Herve Barmasse -- Brenna's charisma and self-deprecating humor will not be forgotten.

Sayuri Matsuyama Hoyos

Liliana Sayuri Matsuyama Hoyos, a Colombian-Japanese anthropologist, documentary filmmaker, and mountaineer, passed away in mid-2025. Hoyos pioneered women's expeditions in South America during the late 1990s and early 2000s and was known for her work with Parques Nacionales Naturales de Colombia.

Rita Gombu Marwah

Rita Gombu Marwah, daughter of the legendary Nawang Gombu (the first man to summit Everest twice) and grandniece of Tenzing Norgay, died on June 12, aged 67, after battling cancer in Delhi.

In 1984, Marwah became the first Indian woman to enter the Death Zone on Everest -- reaching just 200m short of the summit -- and helped pave the way for Bachendri Pal's historic ascent in the same expedition. An Arjuna awardee and first woman vice-president of the Indian Mountaineering Foundation, she empowered Himalayan women through youth programs and eco-initiatives. Deputy leader of the 1993 Indo-Nepalese women's Everest expedition, she summited numerous peaks.

Krystyna Palmowska

The legendary Polish alpinist Krystyna Palmowska died on June 15, at age 76, in a climbing fall in Slovakia’s High Tatras. Her remarkable climbs included:
- the first all-female winter ascent of the Matterhorn North Face (1978)
- a new route on Rakaposhi (7,788m, 1979)
- participation in the 1982 K2 Women’s Expedition
- the first woman to summit Broad Peak (8,047m, 1983)
- the first all-female ascent of Nanga Parbat (8,126m, 1985)
- reaching 8,200m on K2’s Magic Line with Anna Czerwinska (1986).

Captain M. S. Kohli

Indian mountaineer and naval officer Captain Manmohan Singh Kohli, 93, died on June 23. Best known for leading India’s groundbreaking 1965 Everest expedition -- which placed a then-record nine climbers on the summit -- Kohli was a driving force behind Indian Himalayan mountaineering from the 1950s. His remarkable achievements included:
- the first ascent of Saser Kangri (7,672m, Karakoram, 1956)
- second ascent of Nanda Kot (6,861m, Kumaon Himalaya, 1959)
- leading the first ascent of Annapurna III, the ascent of Nanda Devi, and the expedition to Nepal Peak between 1961 and 1964
- summits of Kabru Dome and Rathong in the eastern Himalaya
- participant in over 20 adventures in the Greater Ranges
- leadership of a covert 1965 Indian-American mission to install a monitoring device in the Himalaya
- guiding India’s first civilian Antarctic expedition (1982–1983)

A recipient of the Padma Bhushan, the Arjuna Award, and the Ati Vishisht Seva Medal, Kohli served as president of the Indian Mountaineering Foundation and co-founded the Himalayan Environment Trust with Sir Edmund Hillary. He authored several books and remained a beloved figure in global mountaineering circles.

Pal Bodis

Pal Bodis, a respected Hungarian mountaineering instructor and board member of the Magyar Hegymaszo Oktatoi Kollegium (Hungarian College of Mountaineering Instructors), died on June 29. He passed away following a climbing accident in the Austrian Alps near the Niederer Dachstein. Bodis was leading an alpine climbing course when he fell approximately 80m.

Bodis's death represents an immense loss to the Hungarian mountaineering community.

Klara Kolouchova

Czech mountaineer Klara Kolouchova, 46, died on July 3 after falling on the lower slopes of Nanga Parbat during a descent. During a summit push, she felt too tired to continue and turned back from near Camp 3, opting to descend -- partly at night -- with her Sherpa. She slipped and fell on a rocky section, reportedly above Camp 2 or between Camps 1 and 2.

Kolouchova was the first Czech woman to summit the world’s three highest peaks. She had also climbed Cho Oyu, Annapurna in 2024, and attempted Dhaulagiri in 2025. A mother of two, she was climbing with a team that included her husband (who had remained at Base Camp).

Yuri Mikhailovich Lishaev

Crimean mountaineer Yuri Mikhailovich Lishaev died on July 8 at 70. Born in Simferopol in 1955, he was a prominent Soviet and Ukrainian climber, rock climber, speleologist, and kayaker. A multi-time champion and prize-winner in USSR and Ukrainian rock climbing competitions, Lishaev earned the title Master of Sports of the USSR in 1978. He pioneered numerous routes in Crimea and the Caucasus, made bold solo ascents, and transitioned early to free climbing -- a move that sparked conflict with federation officials. In 1980, he dramatically destroyed his Master of Sports documents in protest.

Despite severe injuries that left him with a disability and doctors predicting lifelong wheelchair use, Lishaev returned to the mountains on crutches and continued making ascents, including first post-injury solos. His resilience and innovative style made him an icon of Soviet-era mountaineering.

Krzysztof Paul

Krzysztof Paul, a Polish mountaineer, sailor, and polar adventurer from Gdansk, died in his home city on July 2, aged 91. A long-time leader of the mountaineering club Wysokogorski Trojmiasto (KW Trojmiasto/Gdansk), he funded many Polish expeditions through high-altitude industrial projects. Active in the Tatras, Alps, and Caucasus, he pioneered ski mountaineering and Arctic expeditions, including demanding winter ski traverses (in Norway, Estonia, Lapland, and the White Sea) and multiple Spitsbergen crossings.

Pascal Strappazzon

Pascal Strappazzon, a French high mountain guide from Haute-Savoie, died suddenly on July 14, at age 63. Strappazzon suffered a cardiac arrest during an ascent of Pyramide Vincent in the Monte Rosa massif. An accomplished Groupe Montagne Sapeurs-Pompiers (GMSP) instructor, he trained several generations of mountain rescuers and contributed significantly to innovations in helicopter operations and cross-border rescues in the Mont Blanc area. Passionate about the Alps, he embodied a commitment to safer mountains.

Iftikhar Sadpara

Iftikhar Sadpara, a Pakistani high-altitude porter and climber from Sadpara village near Skardu in Gilgit-Baltistan, died on July 18. An avalanche caught him near Camp 1 on K2 while he was descending toward Base Camp with a four-member team.

An experienced mountaineer who had summited K2 at least twice, as well as Broad Peak and Gasherbrum II, Sadpara worked on numerous expeditions, fixing ropes on routes like the Abruzzi Spur and supporting international teams in the Karakoram.

Bogusia Skierska

Polish climber Bogusia Skierska, long-time member of Klub Wysokogorski Warszawa, and the warm heart of the Warsaw climbing community, died on July 23 at 72. She died in a tragic fall at the Arena Wspinaczkowa Makak climbing gym in Warsaw. A fixture in the club for over 50 years and the wife of former president Zbigniew Skierski, Bogusia welcomed generations of climbers into her home with feasts, deep conversations about ethics, and support that built a family atmosphere in the climbing community. Her environmental campaigns helped protect Warsaw-area crags.

Pedro Gomez

Pedro Gomez, a Spanish climber and skier, died in July at 98. Over a 70-year career, Gomez pioneered routes in the Pyrenees and ski lines in the Sierra Nevada. He produced Spain's first high-quality down sleeping bags, the famous Caucasiano model that equipped the 1968 Caucasus expedition. An innovator in technical gear, his handmade down jackets equipped many Spanish alpinists.

Kanchha Sherpa

Nepali mountaineer Kanchha Sherpa died on October 16, at age 92, at home in Kathmandu. Kanchha was the final survivor of the 1953 British Everest team, when he carried loads to the South Col for Hillary and Tenzing's historic summit. A Namche native, he guided for over 20 years, reaching 8,000m+ peaks like Cho Oyu.

Dale Bard

American climber and Yosemite pioneer Dale Bard died on October 1, at age 71, of cancer. Bard's 1970s first ascents, such as El Cap's Sea of Dreams and Half Dome's Bushid, defined Yosemite's aid era, earning him Stonemaster status. Bard's dirtbag ethos involved living on $15 for an entire climbing season in a bakery van.

Henry Todd

Scottish mountaineer and Himalayan expedition organizer Henry Todd died on November 2. He was 80 and died from a stroke following heart surgery in Kathmandu's HAMS Hospital.

Through Himalayan Guides, Todd organized more than 60 major expeditions and pioneered oxygen bottle refilling, making high-altitude climbing more affordable and reducing litter on peaks like Everest. A former rugby player who supported Bear Grylls's successful 1998 Everest ascent, Todd empowered Sherpa teams, widely regarded as among the best of their era.

Andrzej Michnowski

Polish mountaineer and beloved Tatra elder, Andrzej "Dziadek" Michnowski, died in early November, at age 76. His first ascents, like 15.10 do Yumy in Kazalnica's Kocioł, helped define Polish Tatra climbing. For over 50 years, he mentored young Krakow climbers through demanding winter routes and traverses.

Karim Shah Nizari

Pakistani adventure guide and social activist Karim Shah Nizari died on September 23, at age 39, from a heart attack. Nizari's QAU rock team kick-started Islamabad's climbing scene, pioneering Shadara walls and Margalla routes. An HEC national games representative and Gilgit-Baltistan advocate, he contributed to the 2019 search for climbers Daniele Nardi and Tom Ballard on Nanga Parbat. He promoted climate action via his website, Karakoram Essays.

Balin Miller

American climber and soloist Balin Miller died on October 1, at age 23, after rappelling off the end of his rope on El Cap's Sea of Dreams. Miller's June 2025 solo of the Slovak Direct on Denali, the first on record, marked him as a rising star. He started climbing at age three with his dad. Later, he shared his Patagonia and Canadian Rockies solos online with a growing audience.

Thomas Vialletet and Kellam Conover

French-New Zealand guide Thomas Vialletet and his client, American lawyer Kellam Conover, died on November 24 in a fall from Aoraki/Mount Cook's west ridge during a summit push.

Vialletet spent 15+ years guiding with Summit Explorers, a company he co-owned with his wife Danielle while raising two young children.

Conover was a Stanford Law graduate at King & Spalding who balanced high-stakes briefs with climbing big walls.

Alexander Rastorguev

Russian alpinist Alexander Rastorguev died on August 27, at age 68, in a rockfall on Dzhangi-Tau in Kabardino-Balkaria, Russia. A former president of the Krasnodar Mountaineering Federation, he opened dozens of routes across the Caucasus, including Elbrus variants and a notable 1989 first on Koshtan-Tau. Involved with Bezengi alpine camps as a senior instructor, he made 200+ ascents.

Natalia Nagovitsyna

Russian mountaineer Natalia Nagovitsyna died in late August, at age 47, from exposure after a leg fracture on Pobeda Peak. Nagovitsyna's quest for all five Snow Leopard peaks culminated on Pobeda, her final summit, pushing on despite her husband's death from a stroke while they climbed Khan Tengri in 2021.

Luca Sinigaglia

Italian mountaineer and Tien Shan regular, Luca Sinigaglia, died on August 15 at age 49. He died from exposure and cerebral edema on Pobeda Peak while aiding Natalia Nagovitsyna. Sinigaglia and a German climbing partner reached Nagovitsyna post-leg break, delivering supplies at around 7,100m before Sinigaglia succumbed on the way down.

Nikolay Totmyanin

Legendary Russian mountaineer, "Iron Uncle Kolya," Nikolay Totmyanin, died on August 11 at age 66. He died in Bishkek after an illness descending Pobeda Peak. Totmyanin's multiple Snow Leopard completions (five to seven full sets) and his 2004 Jannu North Face climb (which earned him a Piolet d’Or) highlighted his prowess.

The captain of Russia's national climbing team, his 200+ ascents -- from Lhotse's South Face to Alaska's Ruth Gorge -- spanned 50 years, including two no-oxygen Everest summits.

Christophe Jackquemoud

French mountain guide Christophe Jacquemoud died on September 12, at age 52, in a rappelling fall on the Pilier Cordier in the Grands Charmoz (Mont Blanc massif). Jacquemoud's 20+ years with the Compagnie des Guides de Chamonix and ENSA (France's national school for training mountain guides) included vital route re-equips and safety missions.

Benjamin Guigonnet and Quentin Lombard

Piolet d'Or alpinist Benjamin Guigonnet and Savoie guide Quentin Lombard died on September 18, at ages 37 and 34, in a car crash on the Route des Crêtes in the Gorges du Verdon. Guigonnet won a 2018 Piolet d’Or for the South Face of Nuptse Nup II with Millerioux and Degoulet. He also enjoyed hard alpine routes and rock climbing to 9a.

Lombard achieved guide certification in 2017 and was a national ski instructor from 2014.

Franco Gaspari

Italian mountain guide Franco Gaspari died on September 17 at age 64. He fell near the summit of Cima Grande di Lavaredo. Gaspari opened Dolomites routes like Gusela del Nuvolau's east pillar (1981) and Sass de Stria west wall (1984). Working for Soccorso Alpino (a voluntary Italian rescue organization) since 1985, his thousands of rescues saved many lives. In 2024, he authored Di Roccia e di Cuore on 70 years of Soccorso history.

Maurizio Zappa

Italian alpinist and mountain rescuer Maurizio Zappa died on August 17, at age 71, of natural causes at home in Bormio. Zappa's 50-year Italian National Mountain and Cave Rescue Corps (CNSAS) career included thousands of rescues as a technician and canyoning instructor, innovating anticaduta (anti-fall) techniques. A guide since 1979, he co-opened Roda di Vael's Via Casarotto with Casarotto and Majori.

Martin Buhler

Liechtenstein alpinist and paraglider pilot Martin Buhler died on August 17, at around age 50, in a paragliding accident in Valais. A valued UP Paragliders team pilot, his flights enabled bold expeditions blending aerial access with alpine objectives.

Laura Dahlmeier

German biathlete and mountaineer Laura Dahlmeier died on July 28. Aged just 31, she died in a rockfall on Laila Peak in Pakistan. Dahlmeier's 2018 PyeongChang double gold (sprint/pursuit) was the first woman's biathlon Olympic sweep. She won seven world biathlon titles. She had been a guide in Garmisch-Partenkirchen, Germany, since 2023 (with mountain rescue involvement).

Nicolas Gregorio Benedetti

Argentine mountain guide and IFMGA/UIAGM-certified Patagonia expert, Nicolas Gregorio Benedetti, died on June 25, at age 53, in a paragliding accident on Mont Blanc. Benedetti's 30-year career included multiple ascents of Cerro Torre and Fitz Roy (including early repeats of routes like the Tehuelche and Afanasieff), plus pioneering work on Patagonian ice lines and Hielo Continental traverses.

Roberto Sorgato

Roberto Sorgato, a highly respected figure in international alpinism, passed away on December 6 at 88. Born in Belluno in 1937, he rose to prominence in the 1960s and 1970s with daring climbs and winter first ascents on iconic Dolomites peaks such as the Civetta and Cima Su Alto. He often climbed alongside legends like Ignazio Piussi and Toni Hiebeler. In 1961, he survived a dramatic 60m fall on the Cima Ovest di Lavaredo. His close call inspired the French documentary Abimes.

Sorgato formed a strong partnership with Pierre Mazeaud, opening demanding new routes on Mont Blanc’s Brenva face and elsewhere. Sorgato also contributed to mountain culture as president of the Association of Friends of the Fondazione Giovanni Angelini in Belluno.

Skiers and snowboarders

Margot Simond

Margot Simond, a promising French junior alpine skier from Les Saisies, died on April 24 at age 18. She suffered a high-speed crash during training at the Red Bull Alpine Park on Val d’Isère's Envers de Bellevarde.

Simond's recent French U18 slalom title and strong performances on the International Ski Federation circuit -- including at the 2025 Junior World Championships -- marked her as a bright prospect for the World Cup. Former Olympic champion Mikaela Shiffrin hailed Simond as a potential "spark" for the next generation of skiers before her career was cut tragically short.

Eliot Danzer

Swiss freeride snowboarding prodigy Eliot Dänzer died on May 17, at age 23, in an avalanche on the Eiger's West Face. Dänzer had finished third in the 2024–25 FWT Challenger series (snowboard men), highlighted by a win at Nendaz Freeride.

Wendy Wagner

American cross-country skier Wendy Wagner represented the United States at the 2002 Salt Lake City and 2006 Torino Olympics, as well as at four World Championships. Wagner died on November 6, at age 52, in Park City, Utah, after a battle with ovarian cancer.

After retiring from competition, Wagner earned a master’s degree in atmospheric science and served as director of the Chugach National Forest Avalanche Information Center (CNFAIC) from 2014 to 2025, significantly expanding its forecasting coverage for areas including Turnagain Pass, Summit Lake, and the Chugach Front Range.

Wingsuit and BASE jumpers

Carlos Suarez

Carlos Suarez was a Spanish alpinist and BASE jumper. He died on April 1, at 52, when his parachute failed during a wingsuit flight from a hot-air balloon. Suarez and a documentary crew were filming La Fiera at the time, a documentary about BASE jumping in Spain.

At 17, Suarez free-soloed the Cassin route on the Walker Spur of the Grandes Jorasses. With over 1,000 aerial exits, he introduced BASE jumping to Spain and mentored its pioneers, despite losing friends Dario Barrio, Alvaro Bulto, and Manolo Chana. His ethos, “adventure is not about surviving, it's about living fully," inspired many in his sport.

Liam Byrne

Liam Byrne, British wingsuit champion, died on June 21, at age 24. He died in a wingsuit BASE jumping accident on Gitschen mountain in the Swiss Alps. Byrne, who featured in the 2024 BBC documentary The Boy Who Can Fly, had completed more than 4,000 jumps in his career. He climbed Mount Kilimanjaro at age 12 and became a skydiving instructor by 19.

Marta Jimenez

Marta Jimenez, a Spanish Mujer Adrenalina (Adrenaline Woman) and extreme sports expert, died on July 13 at age 34. She passed away in a BASE jumping accident in the Chistau Valley (Punta Calva, Spanish Pyrenees). A TV personality in Spain, Jimenez's daring on-air challenges and stunts (she completed nearly 400 BASE jumps) brought extreme sports to millions.

Felix Baumgartner

The man who skydived at supersonic speeds from the edge of space, Felix Baumgartner, died on July 17, at age 56, in a powered paragliding accident over Porto Sant’Elpidio on Italy’s Adriatic coast. Baumgartner's 2012 Red Bull Stratos leap, a 39km freefall at Mach 1.25, made international headlines. He made 1,000+ jumps from landmarks like the Petronas Towers and Christ the Redeemer, crossed the English Channel using a carbon-fiber wing (2003), and advocated for safer practices in the sport.

Jean-Jacques Wallis

South African aerial sports athlete and licensed free-flight pilot, Jean-Jacques Wallis, died on November 25, at age 36. He died after a paragliding accident at Lion’s Head mountain in Cape Town, South Africa. Wallis was testing a new high-performance hybrid wing (a type of parakite designed for strong coastal winds and speed flying) when the incident occurred.

Wallis demonstrated expertise in paragliding, skydiving, BASE jumping, speed flying, and wingsuit flying, with more than 20 years of experience. He won a gold medal in the Target Strike event at the World Wingsuit League Grand Prix.

Other adventurers

Cristina Santurino

Spanish ultrarunner and sports nutrition PhD, Cristina Santurino, died unexpectedly on June 10 -- her 36th birthday -- at her home in El Hierro, Canary Islands. Santurino's expertise in electrolyte protocols and endurance fueling advised many athletes, while her doctoral work focused on training approaches. Double winner at Gran Trail Peñalara (TEP 62km and GTP 104km) and Zegama-Aizkorri finisher (6:18:45), her myth-busting classes at Universidad Internacional de Valencia empowered women in ultras.

Andreas Tonelli

Italian enduro biker, Andreas Tonelli, died on July 15 at age 48. He died in a 200m fall while riding solo on a steep trail in the Vallelunga area above Val Gardena, Italy. Tonelli earned over 120k followers thanks to his vertigo-inducing videos, including footage of Puez-Odle traverses and Lofoten tours. A splitboarder and guide, his bike ascent of Nevado Ojos del Salado (6,893m) in the Andes was of particular note.

Karlis Bardelis

Karlis Bardelis, a Latvian ocean rower, died on November 17 at age 40. He died from a malignant brain tumor following a stroke. Bardelis's 2,898-day human-powered circumnavigation -- rowing solo across the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian Oceans, plus cycling over 50,000km -- set six Guinness World Records, including the first row from South America to Asia and Asia to Africa.

Photographers and cultural personalities

Gilles Rotillon

Gilles Rotillon, a French climbing theorist and academic, died on July 11 at age 78. A passionate advocate for expanding climbing as a popular pursuit, he played a key role in its development through sports federations in France. His writings explored the philosophical and cultural dimensions of climbing. Through his essays, he championed preserving wild sites.

Ivan Konar

Chilean landscape photographer Ivan Konar died on November 21 at age 80. He died from a fall during a photo outing. Konar's Patagonian portfolios (Andes' Wild Heart exhibited globally) captured Valdivian forests and the soul of southern Chile. His 50-year career chronicled Chile's wild places.

Jim Brandenburg

Minnesota's meadow maestro, Jim Brandenburg, died on April 4 at age 79, of cancer at home in Medina. Brandenburg first became famous for shooting the Arctic wolves of Ellesmere Island for National Geographic. His Chased by the Light -- one frame per day across 90 autumn days in the north woods -- earned great acclaim, with four of his images listed in the 40 most important nature photos ever taken. His Brandenburg Prairie Foundation worked to rescue Minnesota grasslands.

Stefan Fruhbeis

German alpine broadcaster Stefan Fruhbeis died on June 16, at age 64. Fruhbeis's Rucksackradio brought mountain stories to millions since the 1990s. Founder of the radio station BR Heimat, his broadcasts drew an average of 240,000 daily listeners.

Francesco Parisotto

Italian Francesco Parisotto, Scarpa's transformative leader, passed away on August 3 at the age of 98 due to natural causes in Veneto, Italy. Parisotto's post-World War II innovations in crampons and rugged packs helped revolutionize mountaineering gear, equipping countless expeditions and high-altitude ascents. With brothers Luigi and Antonio, he acquired and grew Scarpa from an artisan shop in Asolo in 1956 to a global icon.

Paolo de Zordo

Italian alpine rescue leader Paolo de Zordo, dubbed the Angel of Cortina for his decades of Dolomites lifesaving, died on May 14, at age 55, after a long illness. As deputy commissioner and head of piste safety in Cortina d'Ampezzo since 1994, De Zordo orchestrated 20,000+ rescues.

Joan Garrigos

Joan Garrigos Toro passed away on December 7 at age 78. Toro was a prominent Catalan mountaineer, climber, and alpinist who dedicated his life to mountain sports from the age of 14. He served as president of the Catalan Federation of Hiking Organizations from 1979 to 1993, modernizing the organization and boosting its growth, and later led the Spanish Federation of Mountain and Climbing Sports from 1992 to 2021. Toro achieved numerous ascents in the Pyrenees, Alps, Andes, and other ranges. He left a legacy of professionalization and passion for the mountains in both Catalan and national spheres.

“In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of them, I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing when you look at the sky at night. You -- only you -- will have stars that can laugh!”
— Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

Grand Capucin in 49 minutes. Aiguille Noire de Peuterey in just over an hour and a half. The north ridge of Piz Badile in 42 minutes and 52 seconds. Linking the four ridges of the Matterhorn in 7 hours, 43 minutes, and 45 seconds.

This brief list of exploits -- perhaps accompanied by Pat Boone's song dedicated to Mexico's fastest mouse -- captures the career of Poland's Filip Babicz, a competitive climber and alpinist who has been living at the foot of Mont Blanc for years.

I spoke to Babicz recently at a mountaineer's gathering near my hometown in northern Italy. We started at the beginning, discussing the child whose father dragged him in the late 1980s to the Tatra Mountains.

From comp to speed

"My father is a guide in that area, so I learned about the mountains by osmosis," Babicz says. "My greatest passion at the time was practicing any kind of sport with a competitive component."

He played everything from ping pong, "which I loved and was actually quite good at," to soccer, "but as a goalkeeper, not a goal scorer."

At 14, Babicz discovered sport climbing, taking it more seriously than his Sunday mountain outings.

"It seems funny," Babicz says, "but within a few months I had already decided that was what I wanted to do with my life. It was a brilliant way to combine my sporting streak with the vertical world I had learned from my father."

For 18 years, sport climbing was the center of his life. He competed first for the Polish and then for the Italian national team.

"I moved to Courmayeur at the turn of the millennium, specifically to practice high-level climbing," he told ExplorersWeb. "I focused more on dry training and sessions at the gym, at most on the crag, which greatly curbed my desire to go to the mountains."

But then came the turning point. In 2015, while Babicz was preparing for the World Cup, he severely injured a finger, which compromised his competitive season.

“It was a nightmare," he recalled. "I decided to compete anyway, with my injured finger, but it was terribly painful. The first race went badly, and I felt obsessed with it, desperate at the prospect of having to sit out months. However, once I returned to the Aosta Valley and digested the disappointment, I realized I felt super trained and in good shape, except for my finger, of course. I told myself that rather than stay on the couch, I'd find a plan B in the mountains.”

At ease in the Alps

There's certainly no shortage of mountains in Courmayeur.

"The Alps are the place where I feel most at ease," Babicz explains. "Mont Blanc and the Aosta Valley are an incredible playground, where you can do anything at any time of day, whenever you want. By comparison, I've been to Huaraz, Peru, and if you want to find a decent crag there, you have to drive three and a half hours. Within a 10-minute radius of my house, I can find 10 crags. If I wanted, I could be under the Grand Capucin in less than two hours, without running. There's no comparison."

Babicz can only say all this now, after falling in love with the mountains again, thanks to that injury.

“And thanks to Kilian Jornet,” Babicz added. “He was the one I thought about constantly in 2015, during my first ascent of the Matterhorn, which I tackled at a brisk pace. I didn't want to beat his record, but his performance made me dream."

One week later, he went to the Gran Becca and took 5 hours and 1 minute to complete the climb, there and back.

"This feat sparked my passion for speed in the mountains,' he says. "I rediscovered myself. For years, I had thought that only competition existed, but that wasn't the case.”

Some detractors might think that speed mountaineering is nothing more than a competition of a different sort.

"That's right," Babicz agrees, "and I'm not ashamed to call myself an athlete before a mountaineer. However, my thirst for speed doesn't clash with ethics."

He says he prefers free climbing a pitch to hanging off aid.

"I practice drytooling, deep-water soloing, and highballing," says Babicz. "All of these disciplines have made me realize that my main interest goes beyond the record itself. For example, when opening new routes, I don't think about chipping holds, not even in drytooling, where everyone at a high level seems to do it.

"This is how the 'Underground Temple' in La Thuile was born. There, in a chalk cave, I've established the world's most difficult routes using only natural holds. I'm not looking for the record at all costs. What interests me is achieving it in an exemplary style."

No attraction to the 8,000'ers

While Poland is home to great Himalayan mountaineers, from Jerzy Kukuczka to Krzysztof Wielicki, Babicz does not seem particularly interested in the highest peaks.

“I approached that world in 2019, with the Polish Winter Himalaya (PHZ) program created by the Polish Alpine Club," he recalled. "The goal was [a] winter ascent of the last remaining 8,000'er unclimbed in winter -- K2. I did two preparatory expeditions with the program, one in the Karakorum and the other in the Himalaya"

However, when the Nepalese did their K2 winter climb in 2021, the program ceased to exist.

"It became Polish Sport Himalaya (PHS)," says Babicz. "Its members are, on average, much younger climbers aiming for lower, technically difficult peaks between 6,000 and 7,000m."

"I continue to be part of it," Babicz continued. "I like the group dynamics and the mutual inspiration, but I prefer mountaineering in the Alps because I feel like an athlete. In the Alps, I'm more likely to take my performance to a very high level.

"And since the vast majority of mountaineers live around here, I consider it a great mountaineering laboratory, where you can push your limits in impressive ways. You can do it in the Himalaya too, but luck plays a decisive role there. It is more manageable in the Alps. I know it's an unpopular opinion, but if I had to choose between climbing an unclimbed 6,000m peak in Pakistan or beating Ueli Steck's record on the Eiger by just 30 seconds, there's no question: I'd choose the Eiger."

The mountains of dreams

However, Babicz's favorite mountains aren't just in the Alps.

"The peaks that have impressed me most, perhaps, are in Patagonia," he explains. "From what I've seen, they're the most beautiful in the world. Cerro Torre seems to be from another planet."

The problem there, he admits, is the weather, which makes any experience more of an adventure than a performance. Rather than attempt to squeeze in something during two small windows within a month of poor weather, he wants to spend an entire southern summer there.

"Winter in the Alps interests me less," he admits. "I'd like to spend that time [in Patagonia] as a sort of training camp...When a good window opens -- if it opens -- I'll try something."

For Babicz, it's all about open-mindedness and perseverance.

“Things don’t always go according to plan...It’s been like this from the beginning, with that finger injury that ended my career, and immediately made me start a new one.”

New Zealander Matheson Brown has set a new fastest-known time (FKT) for climbing the highest peak in each of the 50 U.S. states. Brown completed the challenge in 20 days and 14 hours.

According to Wilderness Magazine, the 28-year-old surpassed the previous record of 21 days and nine hours held by American endurance athlete Colin O’Brady, who achieved the feat in 2018. O’Brady used a private jet to travel between states, which Brown described as "like someone had come in and paid to win." In comparison, Brown traveled using economy flights and a rental car driven by his father.

On a shoestring

Brown, a former outdoor leadership student, funded the attempt through a series of manual jobs in New Zealand, including painting, scaffolding, fruit picking, construction, and forestry work. For training, he regularly ran half-marathons and completed core workouts.

The project took shape during New Zealand’s COVID-19 lockdowns in 2020, when Brown planned an efficient route across the United States. He summited peaks ranging from Alaska’s Denali (6,190m) to Florida’s Britton Hill (105m), and averaged around four hours of sleep per night.

One of Brown's goals was to show that individuals without professional sponsorship or significant financial backing can still pursue major endurance records.

"Truthfully, it wasn't about breaking the record; it was about making a statement," Brown wrote on social media.

Geoffrey Winthrop Young (1876-1958), British climber, poet, and author of several books, was one of the most important and influential figures in the history of British mountaineering. His significance was not only due to his notable climbs. He shaped the sport technically, ethically, and culturally.

Young was born into a wealthy, intellectual, and climbing family. His father, Sir George Young, was a baronet and classical scholar who had pioneered early Alpine routes. When Sir George’s brother died in a climbing accident on Mont Blanc in 1865, he decided to quit climbing. He even banned any mention of climbing in the family home. But sons and daughters often defy their father's taboos, and when Geoffrey Winthrop Young was a young man, he discovered the beauty of climbing.

At the age of 21, Young ascended Mont Blanc with a guide. After that, he fell in love with mountaineering. He started climbing in Britain and Wales during the school holidays while he worked as a teacher. However, at that time, the ethic of going without a guide was already emerging. In 1904, Young already held the opinion that hiring guides was something outdated for skilled amateurs.

Ascents in the Alps

From 1905 to 1914, Young led a small, elite circle that systematically climbed hard lines in the Alps without guides, often in lightweight style and in bad weather. One of his partners was Josef Knubel, one of the era's top Zermatt guides, whom Young later called his ideal companion.

Together and with others like Siegfried Herford, they carried out an astonishing number of notable ascents in the Alps, including:

• the Southeast Face of the Weisshorn and the Furggen Ridge of the Matterhorn in 1905
• the first ascent of the South Ridge of Täschhorn
• new routes on the Weisshorn and Dom in 1906
• the Midi-Plan traverse in less than 15 hours
• the Southeast Ridge of Nesthorn
• new routes on the Rimpfischhorn and Zinal Rothorn in 1907
• the ascent of the Mer de Glace face of the Aiguille du Grepon in 1908
• the Northeast Face of the Charmoz in 1909
• the first ascent of the Brouillard Ridge of Mont Blanc with H.O. Jones and George Mallory
• the first complete traverse of the West Ridge of the Grandes Jorasses
• the first guideless traverse of the Frontier Ridge of Mont Maudit in 1911

In 1913-14, he ascended the Zmutt Ridge of the Matterhorn and the West Ridge of the Gspaltenhorn with Herford. This was Young's last great pre-war climb.

Transformative

These weren't always the hardest ascents of the era, because climbers like Hans Dulfer and Paul Preuss were already pushing free-climbing to new levels in the Kaiser and the Dolomites.

But in British alpinism, Young's ascents were transformative. They proved amateurs could match professionals, emphasizing balance, trust, and minimal gear over brute force. And that was the point.

From around 1907, Young organized legendary Easter and Christmas meets at the Gorphwysfa Hotel (later called the Pen-y-Pass Youth Hostel) in Snowdonia. Up to 60 climbers — men, women, and even children — converged for two weeks of cragging on sites like Clogwyn du’r Arddu and Idwal Slabs. Evenings of lectures, rope practice, and debate followed these days of climbing.

These gatherings were the beginning of a climbing school for the next generation. Women climbed on equal terms, a rarity then, and the atmosphere fostered an "almost ideal social fabric."

Every key British climber of the interwar years went to those meetings, including Mallory, Herford, John Percy Farrar, and Oscar Eckenstein. Young taught balance techniques, modern belaying, and the moral weight of leadership.

The Alpine Club archives highlight these get-togethers as the beginning of British rock ethics, shifting from "engineer's climbing" (top roping) to free, partnership-based ascents.

Young also pioneered new British routes on Northumberland crags, the Lake District, and on Welsh slate.

Mallory mentor

George Leigh Mallory met Young at the 1909 Pen-y-Pass meeting. The 33-year-old Young realized that the young Mallory (then 23) was a talented climber and invited him to the Alps.

From 1911–1914, Mallory roped up almost exclusively with Young, and they climbed together the Brouillard Ridge, Mont Maudit Frontier, the Grepon North Ridge, and more. Young imparted his guideless ethics, balance moves, and alpine minimalism. All these influenced Mallory's later style.

Their bond was fraternal. Young was the best man at Mallory's 1914 wedding. As Alpine Club records note, Young was Mallory's "principal guide" in his formative years. Without him, the Everest icon might have stayed earthbound.

Injured in WWI

In 1914, World War I broke out. Working as a correspondent for the Daily News, Young crossed to Belgium after Mallory’s wedding. As a conscientious objector, he joined the Friends’ Ambulance Unit in Flanders and then commanded the First British Ambulance Unit for Italy in 1916. On the brutal Isonzo Front, he drove ambulances under fire. There were no fatalities under his command, and he saved thousands, earning the Belgian Order of Leopold and Italian Silver Medal for Valour, as well as British decorations.

On August 31, 1917, during the assault on Monte San Gabriele, shrapnel shredded his left leg above the knee, which had to be amputated. It seemed that his climbing career was over. But Young didn’t give up. He designed an aluminum prosthetic leg and tested it on Tryfan in 1919. As Wayne Willoughby reported in the American Alpine Journal, Young wrote to Mallory about his plans to continue climbing: ”Now I shall have the immense stimulus of a new start, with every little inch of progress a joy instead of commonplace. I count on my great-hearts, like you, to share in the fun of that game with me.”

'I keep the dreams I won'

From then until 1935, Young climbed routes like the South Ridge of the Täschhorn, the Matterhorn, the Petits Charmoz, Dent du Requin, Grepon, Zinal Rothorn, and Monte Rosa, which companion Claude Elliott called "the greatest physical feat” he had ever witnessed.

We can see his impressive resilience in his beautiful post-amputation poem of 1917, entitled I Hold the Heights:

I have not lost the magic of long days;
I live them, dream them still.
Still I am a master of the starry ways,
And freeman of the hill;
Shattered my glass, ere half the sands had run -
I hold the heights I won.

Mine still the hope that haileth me from each height
Mine the unresting flame.
With dreams I charmed each doing to delight;
I charm my rest the same.
Severed my skein, ere half the strands were spun -
I keep the dreams I won.

What if I live no more those kingly days?
Their night sleeps with me still.
I dream my heart upon the starry ways;
My heart rests in the hill.
I may not grudge the little left undone;
I hold the heights, I keep the dreams I won.

Writes 'Mountain Craft'

In 1920, Young published Mountain Craft, which remains one of the most important manuals in mountaineering history. It focuses on different topics: technical skills, route-finding, mountain judgment, reading terrain and weather, history and ethics, training and leadership, and first aid and rescue techniques. In fact, the book contains one of the earliest systematic approaches to mountain rescue in print.

Mountain Craft remained the standard reference for serious mountaineers for decades. He also wrote: The Roof-Climber's Guide to Trinity (1899), Wall and Roof Climbing (1905), Freedom -- Poems (1914), From the Trenches: Louvain to the Aisne, the First Record of an Eye-Witness (1914), On High Hills: Memories of the Alps (1927), Collected Poems (1936), Mountains with a Difference (1951), The Grace of Forgetting (1953), and Snowdon Biography with Sutton & Noyce (1957).

”For the youngest, as for readers of all ages, it is a blessing that his books will always be there,” wrote David Allan Robertson Jr. in the American Alpine Journal in his remembrance piece on Young.

Young died on September 8, 1958, at age 81.

When historians list the handful of people who changed mountaineering, Young’s name is always there. Few have touched the sport at so many decisive points. As the American Alpine Journal noted in its 1959 obituary, Young exemplified melding mind and body, graciously and gallantly, into full play. Young stands in much the same relationship to his era as Edward Whymper was to the Golden Age or Albert Mummery to the Silver Age of alpinism.

You can read Mountain Craft here.

Chomolhari, also called Qomo Lhari, lies right on the Tibet-Bhutan border. Its north face drops down 2,700m to the Tibetan Plateau. The south side is shorter but heavily glaciated, feeding western Bhutan's sacred river, the Paro Chhu.

For the Bhutanese and Tibetans, this 7,326m peak is the abode of the goddess Jomo Lhari, who safeguards the land, its faith, and its people. Until the 1990s, climbing was either banned or restricted because of its sacred status. Combined with brutal winds and border issues, this explains why only six known parties have attempted it in almost 90 years.

This summer, an interesting climb took place on the Chomolhari massif, which went largely unnoticed. The American Alpine Journal just reported it on November 10.

The first ascent

The mountain first appeared in Western mountaineering literature during the 1924 Everest reconnaissance, when Noel Odell described its north face as "a most formidable precipice of rock and ice."

Real access, however, had to wait until the 1937 British diplomatic mission to Lhasa, headed by Basil Gould. Sir Basil John Gould (1883-1956), often known as B.J., was a prominent British diplomat and colonial administrator. He served as the Political Officer for Sikkim, Bhutan, and Tibet.

Freddie Spencer Chapman, officially the mission’s ornithologist and radio officer, managed to obtain a rare climbing permit from the Tibetan government. Chapman, accompanied only by Sherpa Pasang Dawa Lama, crossed the 5,200m south col from Tibet on May 20 and descended into Bhutan. The next day, they climbed the southeast spur in good snow conditions.

Close call on the descent

The descent was another matter. Near the summit, while Chapman was taking a photo, Pasang slipped, carrying away Chapman. He fell 152m, but finally was able to self-arrest with his ice axe, just a few meters from a precipice.

After that, a storm hit the mountain, and the two men set up camp and waited for the storm to subside. Chapman then fell into a crevasse and spent three hours getting out on frozen ropes while Pasang held him from above. They survived the descent by eating snow mixed with barley meal.

They regained the col on May 23 and returned to Tibet. It remained the only ascent for the next 34 years.

Tragedy on the second ascent

Bhutan’s first post-war monarch, Jigme Dorji Wangchuck, finally allowed climbing in 1970. An Indo-Bhutanese military expedition was organized under Lieutenant Colonel Narendra Kumar of the Indian Army, with Dorjee Lhatoo, later director of the Himalayan Mountaineering Institute, as climbing leader.

On April 23, 1971, the first summit team — Prem Chand, Dorjee Lhatoo, Santosh Arora, and Sherpa Thondup — reached the top via the same southeast spur, using bamboo ladders fixed across crevasses for the lower parties. Later, in the American Alpine Journal, Lhatoo described the ritual performed before the climb: “Gold, silver, and jewels were offered to the mountain deity at base camp to ask permission for the ascent.”

The following day, a second team, consisting of Sherpa Ang Nima and Captains S.L. Kang and Dharam Pal, who were both relatively inexperienced at high altitude, left for the summit. According to the expedition report: “From base camp, they were observed through binoculars until 6,800m on the final ridge, when cloud enveloped them. They never reappeared.”

Searches began on April 26. Indian Air Force helicopters flew repeated sorties as ground parties scoured the south side and the Tibetan frontier. Only minor items, such as a telephoto lens and some food tins, were ever found.

“It is presumed that the party fell down the almost vertical north face into Tibet, a drop of over 2,400m,” Kumar recalled.

Dorjee Lhatoo later suggested that the climbers may have strayed across the border and been detained, though no evidence ever surfaced. The fate of the three men remains unknown.

A poorly documented ascent

After Bhutan tightened access again in the 1980s, the next confirmed ascent came from the Tibetan side. A joint Sino-Japanese expedition in 1996 or 1997 approached via the south col and climbed a variation of the southeast spur. It remains the only recorded ascent between 1971 and 2004.

In the spring of 2004, the experienced British–New Zealand couple Julie-Ann Clyma and Roger Payne attempted the striking 1,950m northwest pillar, visible from the Tibetan plateau. They established base camp at 4,500m on the west side and spent weeks waiting for a weather window.

“The wind was relentless, often exceeding 100 kilometers per hour even at camp," wrote Payne. "Above 6,000m on the pillar, it became impossible to climb safely. Spindrift avalanches poured continuously.”

Summit by the south col-south ridge

After abandoning the pillar, Clyma and Payne crossed the south col under a full moon. On May 7, 2004, they climbed the normal route alpine-style, in a single 12-hour push from high camp. They summited in rapidly deteriorating weather and hurried down to base camp the same day.

“Chomolhari’s reputation for wind is fully deserved,” concluded Payne. "It is the dominant factor on every route."

A Slovenian masterpiece

In the autumn of 2006, a six-member Slovenian team received one of the last-minute Chinese permits that occasionally surface for this border zone. Marko Prezelj, Boris Lorencic, Rok Blagus, Tine Cuder, Matej Kladnik, and Samo Krmelj set up base camp at 5,000m beside the sacred lake on the Tibetan side. While four members climbed a new 1,900m line up the left gully of the north face to the east ridge (TD+, sustained 80° ice), Prezelj and Lorencic spent six days forcing the direct northwest pillar that had repelled Clyma and Payne.

“We had two bivouacs of extreme discomfort,” wrote Prezelj. "At the second, under a small roof at 6,500m, the wind was so violent that sleep was impossible, and we simply waited for morning, half-frozen."

They topped out on October 17 after climbing mixed terrain up to M6 and ice to 90° with minimal gear and no fixed ropes. The route was awarded the 2007 Piolet d’Or, the only time Chomolhari has ever received this level of international recognition.

Prezelj remarked, “On Chomolhari, the mountain decides everything. We were just allowed to pass.”

2025: the first ascent of Chomolhari III

This year, however, an excellent expedition escaped notice in the press. In February, a Chinese expedition headed to Chomolhari. They weren't there for the main peak, but for the unclimbed subsidiary summit, 6,706m Chomolhari III. This satellite peak sits approximately four kilometers east of the main summit, along the international border ridge.

Fu Youngpeng and Liu Yang had attempted the north spur before, but the harsh, cold wind stopped them at 6,000m. Liu returned in July 2025, this time with Song Yuancheng and He Lang.

On July 23, the trio started off, simul-climbing rapidly past the February high point. They climbed at night in order to avoid avalanche danger on the lower 700m of the spur.

According to the climbers, three distinct rock bands girdled the upper spur. The party cleared the first on day one via protectable mixed pitches. They then dug in for an uncomfortable sitting bivouac at 6,200m just below the second band.

The three Chinese climbed the second band (M4-M5) on July 25, leading to a far better night in a small cave under a boulder at 6,450m. On the summit day, they still had to solve the final crux: a steep wall of deep, unconsolidated snow that repeatedly collapsed.

Health issues

After several failed attempts, Liu Yang found a firmer line on the right that allowed the trio to reach the summit cornice, just after midday on July 26. They downclimbed and rappelled the same line over the following two days. Liu began showing symptoms of high-altitude cerebral edema, so they started abandoning gear on tricky anchors and continuing to rappel even on easier ground.

All three reached base camp on the morning of July 28, according to the American Alpine Journal, and Chomolhari III was ascended for the first time. They named their 1,400m route (graded AI2, M5, 70° snow, everything free-climbed), The Shining Wall. Note that this is not the Shining Wall of Gasherbrum IV.

The true summit of Chomolhari has remained unclimbed in recent years.

Why so few ascents?

The reasons are straightforward and have barely changed since 1937. Bhutan doesn't give climbing permits, and the Tibetan side is effectively closed to foreigners, since the summit ridge itself is the frontier. Then there's the wind; almost every climbing report mentions sustained 80–120kph winds above 6,000m, even on supposedly calm days.

The 6,972m Chomolhari II, also called Tserim Kang, remains unclimbed. The slightly lower east summit, at approximately 6,922m, was reached in 2006 by the same Slovenian team that had climbed new routes on the main peak’s north side.

Altogether, the Chomolhari group is one of the most beautiful and least visited 6,000-7,000m massifs in the entire Himalaya.

Mountains with year-round ice caps gain height from a permanent layer of snow and ice. Traditionally, there were five of these ice-capped peaks in the contiguous United States, and the most famous of them is Mt. Rainier.

But climate change is coming for these peaks. A new study in the journal Arctic, Antarctic and Alpine Research shows that all five have lost height due to ice melting.

High-altitude science

People who visit the mountains every year notice melting ice, newly exposed rock, more rain, and less snow. But collecting precise data at the summit of a mountain requires one to actually reach the summit with delicate instruments intact, and that is a specialized skill set.

In late August 2024, a team funded by the American Alpine Club surveyed the Lower 48's five ice-capped peaks, led by experienced mountaineer and researcher Eric Gilbertson.

At the summit, they conducted ground surveys using GNSS equipment (Global Navigation Satellite System) on loan from Seattle University. Here, researchers use several GNSS devices, including one with a known position, to get a more accurate reading. For this, the team had to spend several hours on each summit.

Once they had the 2024 measurements, researchers compared them with past data gathered by LiDAR, photographic analysis, and earlier theodolite surveys.

A changing landscape

The results were troubling, to put it mildly. In 1956, Mt. Rainier measured 4,392.2m (14,410') at its highest point, Columbia Crest. As of 2007, however, Columbia Crest is no longer the summit of Rainier. That honor now goes to a 4,389m (14,399.6') rocky outcrop about a football field away. Columbia Crest, meanwhile, continues to melt, measuring only 4,385.8m (14,390') at the time of the study.

"All told," the study announced, "Mount Rainier is no longer an ice-capped summit." Average temperatures at Rainier's summit have risen over 3˚C since the 1950s, causing this drastic change.

As for the four other peaks, only two of them remain ice-capped. Liberty Cap, a sub-peak of Mt Rainier, and Colfax Peak, a sub-peak on Mt Baker, have a few remaining meters of ice. El Dorado Peak and East Fury have both lost their caps, and with them, several meters of elevation.

The majority of this ice loss has occurred since 1999. Not only are Washington's frozen peaks losing ground, they are doing so at an increasing rate. East Fury, on Mt. Fury, is both the lowest peak and the one losing ice most rapidly, which seems unfair. The study notes that the data on trends over time is preliminary.

However, it does show the ongoing danger that climate change presents for alpinists. There will be increasing confusion and debates about records, as summit locations and elevations change from year to year.

But it's also a reminder of the importance of mountaineering in climate research. Even with advanced satellite and remote sensing, on-the-ground survey work is key to understanding and measuring how our mountains are changing.

Elizabeth Hawley was born in Chicago on Nov. 9, 1923. Today would have been her 102nd birthday. For over 50 years, she documented Himalayan expeditions from Kathmandu.

Hawley's work for The Himalayan Database made her the arbiter of mountaineering truth, the "Sherlock Holmes of the mountaineering world." We commemorate her birthday by revisiting some of her important investigations and disputes.

Verification process

Hawley’s power came from her post-expedition interviews with climbers, conducted in Kathmandu. She began this work in the 1960s, interviewing every major expedition to Nepal's Himalaya (and later expeditions to Tibet) before and after their climbs.

"Even at the moment you’re checking in, after thirty hours of flying to Nepal, Miss Hawley knows you’ve arrived," wrote Ed Viesturs in his book No Shortcuts to the Top. "The phone at the front desk rings, and you have no choice but to schedule a briefing."

Over 7,000 interviews detailed more than 20,000 ascents on about 460 peaks. Her sessions were often called the "second summit" by climbers, who sat on her couch and answered her questions. Hawley asked them about the weather, the route, the color of the snow, what other mountains they could see from the top, the location of the prayer flags, and much more. If their answers didn’t add up, she marked the climb as "disputed" in her records.

Hawley’s database

Hawley's database became the official record of Himalayan climbing. The Hawley stamp of approval was essential. Without it, the ascent was not proven or accepted. Her rejections were not personal, but principled, prioritizing precision over prestige. Mountaineering legends deferred to her. Miss Hawley, as many called her, was an institution.

Shisha Pangma

Shisha Pangma is the only 8,000m peak entirely inside Tibet. The main summit is at 8,027m. Its Central Summit is at 8,008m and is sometimes called the North Summit because of its position on the northern end of the summit ridge when accessed via the standard North Ridge route. A narrow ridge connects the main and central summits.

It takes about two hours to make the 250m traverse to the main summit over a sharp and exposed ridge. Hawley had a simple rule: only the main summit counted. Reaching the Central Summit was not enough. Two famous climbers learned this the hard way.

Boukreev

An elite high-altitude climber, Anatoli Boukreev worked as a guide on Everest in 1996 and helped save lives during the famous storm described in the book Into Thin Air. He climbed the 8,000m peaks without bottled oxygen, and speed was his style.

In September 1996, Boukreev went alone to Shisha Pangma. He left Base Camp, climbed quickly, reached the Central Summit, and returned to camp, all in just 28 hours. He even skied part of the way down. It was a remarkable solo climb, and Boukreev thought he had reached the real summit of the mountain.

When he returned to Kathmandu, he met Hawley. "I’ve got to go back, Elizabeth said I didn’t really climb it," Boukreev told his friends with a smile. Boukreev wasn’t angry because he understood Hawley’s rule. His Shisha Pangma ascent remains officially incomplete.

The careful American

Ed Viesturs is an American climber known for safety and planning. His goal was to climb all 14 8,000m peaks without oxygen. In 1993, Viesturs went to Shisha Pangma and reached the Central Summit. He knew Hawley’s rules, and he felt the climb was incomplete.

"After Miss Hawley had cross-examined me, she peered over her eyeglasses and said sternly, 'You realize, don’t you, Ed, that you haven’t climbed Shisha Pangma? You’re going to have to come back and do it right,' ” Viesturs wrote.

In 2001, he returned with Veikka Gustafsson and topped out on the true summit. Hawley accepted it, and Viesturs became the first American to finish all 14 8,000'ers without bottled oxygen.

Cho Oyu

Alan Hinkes wanted to be the first British climber to summit the 14 8,000’ers. He finished his last one, Cho Oyu, in 1990, or so he thought. Cho Oyu has a large summit plateau, and the true highest point is a small bump at one end. Many climbers stop early and think nothing of it. When Hinkes met Hawley in Kathmandu, his answers raised doubts. He wasn’t sure exactly where he turned around, and other team members gave different stories in their interviews. Hinkes reached the edge of the summit plateau, not the summit.

Hawley marked the climb "disputed." According to her records and later reports, this removed Hinkes from the official list of completers. The British Mountaineering Council supported him, but Hawley’s word carried more weight in the international climbing world. Hinkes never went back to Cho Oyu. He still defends his climb, but The Himalayan Database doesn’t count it as certain.

A stickler

Hawley respected Spanish climbers Juanito Oiarzabal and Inaki Ochoa de Olza. With her peculiar style, she noted their honesty:

"Those conscientious about not making false claims included two Spanish, one on Dhaulagiri I and the other on Lhotse. Juanito Oiarzabal, who is a stickler for veracity amongst mountaineers and had blown the whistle on some errant ones, had a problem about the top of 8,167m Dhaulagiri."

Hawley noted that Oiarzabal felt he didn’t reach the true summit. He came to an upright aluminum pole on the normal northeast-ridge route and was told that this point was considered the summit. Numerous climbers had claimed success based on having reached the pole.

"But for him, this was not the true summit...So he went all the way back up again. He made another summit push, was turned back by high winds, and only on May 22 did he get beyond the pole by a different line above 8,100m and satisfy himself that he had really summited Dhaulagiri I," Hawley wrote.

Ochoa de Olza was on the normal route of Lhotse when he arrived at a point probably only 30m from the summit. However, he realized his eyes had frozen in the -35°C cold and he couldn’t continue.

"He didn’t claim to have reached the summit, although he certainly was very, very close," Hawley wrote.

Oh Eun-sun

In 2010, South Korean climber Oh Eun-sun claimed to be the first woman to climb all 14 8,000’ers. Her last climb was Kangchenjunga in 2009. However, her summit photo showed a ridge, but not the true summit. Hawley spoke to the Sherpas, who told her that the team turned back early because of bad weather. Hawley ruled the climb "unlikely."

The Korean Alpine Federation agreed with Hawley, and Oh Eun-sun’s record was expunged. Spanish climber Edurne Pasaban finished her 14 peaks series in 2010 and became the first woman with a verified record on all the 8,000'ers.

Why Hawley mattered

Miss Hawley was not a judge in a court; she was a journalist who kept records. Climbers wanted her approval more than a certificate. Messner called her "the only authority" on Himalayan records. According to the book I’ll Call You in Kathmandu by Bernadette McDonald, Messner said Hawley’s database was more honest than any government list.

Legacy

Hawley died on Jan. 26, 2018, at the age of 94. She passed away in a hospital in Kathmandu after a short illness. News of her death spread quickly among climbers and journalists. The American Alpine Club called her "the conscience of the Himalaya." Even Nepali officials, whom she had sometimes criticized for loose permit rules, paid tribute to her work.

Hawley’s greatest achievement was transforming her notes into The Himalayan Database. In 1992, she partnered with Richard Salisbury, and more than 10,000 hours were digitized. Published by the American Alpine Club in 2004, it became the gold standard for mountaineering record-keeping.

As Dawa Steven Sherpa said, "one of her biggest contributions is keeping mountaineers honest."

The Himalayan Database records every expedition since the 1950s to peaks over 6,500m in Nepal. By the time of Hawley’s death, it listed more than 60,000 climbs, 10,000 summits, and every known death. After she retired from daily interviews, her assistant Billi Bierling took over the work. The database is now digital and run by a small team at the Mountain Heritage Institute in Kathmandu. It is updated each year with new permits, summit reports, and fatality details, although without the strict scrutiny that characterized Hawley’s work.

U.S. Ambassador Peter Boddle called Hawley a "treasure" for deepening ties between the U.S. and Nepal. In 2014, a 6,182m peak was named for her, though Hawley thought it was a joke because she didn’t like naming mountains after people.

Further reading

For a clear and honest account of her life, we recommend reading I’ll Call You in Kathmandu: The Elizabeth Hawley Story by Bernadette McDonald. The book is based on interviews with Hawley and with Bierling. It explains how she started the database, why she questioned summit claims, and how she lived alone in a small Kathmandu apartment while running the most trusted database in mountaineering.

We also recommend the American Alpine Club's remembrance piece.

Hawley never climbed high mountains, but she made sure that the stories told about them were true. She is sorely missed.

Damavand lies in the Alborz range, near the southern coast of the Caspian Sea. A dormant volcano, Damavand rises 5,609m into the skies of Iran. It's the highest peak in the country and holds ancient cultural significance for the region. It also lays claim to the title of Asia's tallest volcano -- but it's not without challengers.

In 2008, a volcano news and travel website run by "volcano adventurer" John Seach ignited a debate by listing Kunlun in Tibet, not Damavand, as the highest volcano in Asia. His claim inspired defenders and detractors, hinging on the definition of a volcano.

The man behind Damavand versus Kunlun

In the early 2000s, Seach continuously updated his website, volcanolive.com, with news on recent volcanic activity, research, and travel. In his "About" page from the time, Seach described himself as a volcano educator, whose professional volcanology services had been used by the BBC, National Geographic, Discovery Channel, and more.

Sporadic web archive snapshots give us a rough timeline. In early 2008, he listed Damavand only as the second-highest volcano in the Northern Hemisphere. The first was, presumably, Mount Elbrus in Russia. As for Kunlun, he did list it as a volcano, but made no height claims. However, sometime between October of 2008 and February of 2009, Seach updated his website.

Now, the page for Kunlun firmly stated that it was "the highest volcano in the northern hemisphere, and the highest volcano in Asia. Kunlun volcano is 130m higher than Mt. Damavand in Iran." The page for Damavand repeated this claim.

Soon, several other mountaineering sites listed Kunlun as the tallest Asian volcano. But there were many more firing back.

What is a volcano?

On the surface, it seems pretty straightforward. The tallest volcano is the one that reaches the highest elevation. Kunlun is higher, ipso facto, it takes the crown. But the question isn't if it's taller; it's whether it's a volcano.

See, Kunlun volcano is more commonly called the Kunlun Fault Volcano Group, or Ashikule Volcanic Field. It's a cluster of 70-odd pyroclastic cones in the western end of the Kunlun range. The highest of these cones may be as high as 5,808m (exact measurements are difficult due to the remote, understudied location), bringing them above Damavand. Its peak comes in at somewhere between 5,609m and 5,671m, depending on your measuring data.

But Kunlun is not a single volcano, and none of the cones has a significant prominence. The volcanic field has an average altitude of around 5,000m, with the individual "peaks" rising only a few hundred meters above the surrounding elevation. The tallest peak, Ka-er-daxi or Vulkan, has only 120 meters of prominence. For these reasons, many argue, including the Mount Damavand guide company, that Kunlun isn't a volcano.

Damavand is one of the Volcanic Seven Summits, a complication of the highest volcano on each continent. Like other adventure lists, this one draws a significant number of climbers and hikers. Damavand isn't the only controversial member. Mount Elbrus is listed as Europe's tallest mountain, but depending on where you define the geographical border between Europe and Asia, it arguably isn't even in Europe. Australia's tallest volcano isn't in Australia at all, but rather in New Guinea, so that seventh continent is now often referred to as Australasia or Oceania instead of Australia.

Seach's site is still up, and still lists Kunlun as the tallest volcano in Asia, but the debate seems to have cooled. Everywhere else I looked listed Damavand, and the alpinists who've completed the Seven Volcanic Summits in the last few years all climbed Damavand for their Asian volcano.

Peter Aufschnaiter was an Austrian climber who lived an adventurous, varied life, including turning a prison escape into seven years in Lhasa. To the general public, he is most familiar as Brad Pitt's sidekick in Seven Years in Tibet, the Hollywood adaptation of Heinrich Harrer's book. But Aufschnaiter was more than the soft-spoken guy with the Tibetan wife; in fact, that romance never happened. On his birthday, we revisit his life and mountaineering career.

Aufschnaiter was born on November 2, 1899, in Kitzbühel, Austria, where he began climbing before attending school. His family ran a small hotel, and his early exposure to the Tyrolean Alps sparked a lifelong passion for mountaineering.

He learned to draw maps and studied agronomy at the University of Munich, graduating in 1925. His diploma focused on irrigation systems for alpine agriculture.

In 1929, Aufschnaiter joined a German-Austrian expedition to 8,586m Kangchenjunga. Led by Paul Bauer, the team climbed without supplemental oxygen. Aufschnaiter helped set up ropes and take precise altimeter readings while documenting the route. Bad weather finally stopped the party at 7,400m.

Two years later, Aufschnaiter returned to Kangchenjunga with a German expedition, again led by Bauer. Once again, they climbed without bottled oxygen but turned around at 7,940m in poor conditions. The expedition lost four of its members: Hermann Schaller and Pasang Sherpa died in an avalanche at 6,100m, and Sherpas Babu Lall and Lobsang succumbed to illness (non-AMS).

From Nanga Parbat explorer to war prisoner

In 1939, Aufschnaiter led a small team to 8,126m Nanga Parbat. Aufschnaiter, Heinrich Harrer, Hans Lobenhoffer, and Ludwig Chicken (no kidding) wanted to find a safe route for a climb the next year. The team set up a camp at 4,200m on the Diamir Glacier. They tried the West Face but had to abort due to rockfall and avalanche danger.

They then moved to a middle rocky ridge (the Aufschnaiter Rib) and put up 1,200m of rope, reaching 6,096m. The route then broke into loose stones and led only to a lower summit at 7,785m. Aufschnaiter took photos and left tools for the next trip. This reconnaissance was part of a broader German effort on Nanga Parbat, and Aufschnaiter’s detailed photographic and topographic records were important.

The team left the mountain on Aug. 28, 1939. Three days later, on September 1, Germany started World War II. The mountaineers reached the port of Karachi on September 5, where British police put them in handcuffs.

The prison camp at Dehra Dun was 400km north of Delhi. Wire fences held 1,200 people from Germany and Austria. Conditions were relatively good, with guards letting prisoners play sports and read books, but escapes were harshly punished. Aufschnaiter used the time to study the Tibetan language.

Escape

Aufschnaiter started a climbing group in the camp. He taught others how to walk on ice and studied secret maps. In 1942, he and his teammate Harrer tried to run away dressed as workers, but search dogs found them quickly. In 1943, they dug a tunnel, but it collapsed after 18m.

On April 29, 1944, seven prisoners cut the perimeter wire during a storm and split up. Only Aufschnaiter and Harrer headed north. They were carrying dry bread, a small gun, and a fake letter saying they were soil experts. After 65 days, they reached the Tibetan border.

Two years to Lhasa

The walk was 2,050km, with much of the route above 4,500m. According to Harrer’s book Seven Years in Tibet (1953), guards stopped them twice in Nepal. Finally, Aufschnaiter and Harrer went the long way around, adding weeks to their journey. Aufschnaiter lost two toes to frostbite, and Harrer lost 25kg. In December 1945, they climbed a mountain pass at 5,500m and saw Lhasa.

On Jan. 15, 1946, the two mountaineers walked into Lhasa. According to the 1993 American Alpine Journal, "the closer they came to the forbidden city, the less suspect they became." Lhasa had 30,000 people at that time, and many temples. Aufschnaiter showed his fake papers to the government office, and the city needed workers, so he was soon signed up to work.

Contributions in Lhasa

First, Aufschnaiter fixed the city water, as its old wooden pipes were losing half the water. He installed three kilometers of clay pipes and built a clean pond. After that, the situation in the city improved, as fewer people got sick.

Aufschnaiter didn’t return to Austria after fleeing the British internment camp but did use his position in Tibet to request high-yield potato tubers from European alpine regions via diplomatic mail and border traders in Kalimpong and Yatung. This helped people in Tibet grow 30 percent more food at 3,800m. He also drew maps of 200 hectares of grain fields and taught forty local men to measure land. He introduced vegetable gardening in the Lhasa valley, cultivating carrots and cabbage, and designing flood control dikes along the Kyichu River to protect farmlands.

By 1948, Aufschnaiter ran the land office in Lhasa. His map of Lhasa at a scale of 1:25,000 remained the best map until the 1980s. He also built a small power plant on the Kyichu River, providing the first electric lights to the Dalai Lama’s summer home. Aufschnaiter also surveyed seismic activity and installed a small hydroelectric turbine generating 20-30kW. While he worked, he filmed Tibetan daily life with a 16mm camera.

Meanwhile, Harrer taught the young Dalai Lama English and science. Harrer and Aufschnaiter met most nights to talk. Aufschnaiter’s notebooks (now in the Austrian National Library) are full of soil tests, ice measurements, and water-wheel drawings. These diaries, spanning 1944-1951, include over 1,000 pages of meticulous observations on geology, botany, and ethnography.

Losing his citizenship

After the war, Austria took away the passports of people who had stayed away too long. In 1950, Aufschnaiter received a letter stating that he was no longer an Austrian citizen. He eventually got his passport back in 1972, one year before he died, after persistent appeals.

In October 1950, Chinese guns sounded in the east, and Lhasa's leaders discussed the possibility of fighting. The Dalai Lama asked Harrer for ideas, and Aufschnaiter drew safe roads to India, but continued working. When Chinese officers took Aufschnaiter's office, they paid him to keep mapping, but said that he couldn’t leave the city. Finally, Aufschnaiter left secretly on his own with 40kg of papers on a mule.

Aufschnaiter worked in Gyantse and southern Tibet for approximately 10 months under Chinese supervision and then entered Nepal in 1951, taking a United Nations job in Kathmandu in 1952.

Climbing again at age 55

In 1955, Aufschnaiter joined a climbing team in India. On June 15, he and George Hampson reached the top of 6,069m Ronti.

"We went up the Nanda Kini valley, crossed Humkum Gala at 5,182m, and another pass by Nanda Ghunti. We camped on rocks near a snow gully with old slide marks. Starting at 6 am, we reached the top at 1:03 pm, and got back to camp at 5:15 pm," they wrote in the American Alpine Journal.

The last 200m were steep ice, and Aufschnaiter cut steps with his old ice axe from 1939. After this outstanding alpine-style first ascent, Aufschnaiter explored routes on Tent Peak and other lesser mountains in the 1950s.

Books and movies

Aufschnaiter's 1940 report on Nanga Parbat in the Zeitschrift des Deutschen Alpenvereins (Journal of the German Alpine Club) helps climbers today.

In Nepal, he wrote about Tibetan farms for the United Nations, and his book Peter Aufschnaiter: Sein Leben in Tibet (Eight Years in Tibet) was published ten years after his death, based on his manuscripts. It included detailed maps of Lhasa and the surrounding areas and surveyed its rivers and glaciers. The book also had agricultural notes on soil types, descriptions of irrigation systems, plus photos and sketches of Tibetan tools, houses, and water wheels. Aufschnaiter’s book was more like a government report, not an adventure story. An English translation followed in 2002, emphasizing scientific data over drama.

Harrer published his book, Seven Years in Tibet, in 1953, and it sold millions of copies.
The 1997 movie, directed by Jean-Jacques Annaud, starred Brad Pitt as Harrer and David Thewlis as Aufschnaiter. The Hollywood adaptation was loosely based on Harrer’s 1953 memoir, sharing the core story of his WWII escape from the British POW camp, the Himalayan trek, and seven years in Tibet tutoring the 14th Dalai Lama amid China’s 1950 invasion.

A dramatic account

While the book presents a detailed travelogue showing Harrer’s complex character and his sometimes strained relationship with Aufschnaiter, the movie reduces Aufschnaiter to a minor role. It omits his contributions and personality, adds a fictional romance, downplays historical controversies, and prioritizes cinematic drama over accuracy. The movie is visually striking, but it is not a faithful version of their shared journey.

Aufschnaiter went home to Austria in 1960. He taught mapmaking in Innsbruck and took people trekking in summer. He passed away in Innsbruck on October 12, 1973, and was buried in Kitzbühel.

Today, German climber Wolfgang Gullich would have turned 65. He transformed sport climbing with his bold ascents and innovative training, leaving a legacy that endures despite his tragic death at the age of 31. Gullich pushed boundaries with daring routes in the Alps, Yosemite, the Frankenjura, Patagonia, and the remote spires of the Karakoram.

Early years

Gullich was born on October 24, 1960, in Ludwigshafen am Rhein, Germany. His father introduced him to aid climbing at the age of 13, teaching his son to use gear to ascend the sandstone cliffs of the Sudpfalz region. With his brother, Gullich spent weekends exploring these crags.

Gullich made solo climbs at age 15. By 16, he was free climbing routes. In 1977, his brother died in a climbing accident while the two boys were climbing together in the Sudpfalz region. This tragedy profoundly impacted Gullich.

Frankenjura

In the early 1980s, Gullich relocated to the Frankenjura climbing area, a region of limestone crags in northern Bavaria. There, he joined a group of elite climbers, including redpoint pioneer Kurt Albert and Jerry Moffatt. With Albert, a fellow visionary who shared his passion for free climbing, Gullich pioneered several routes.

In the 1980s, sport climbing was divisive: Traditionalists scorned bolts as "cheating," but Gullich and Albert’s redpoint philosophy (free climbing with pre-placed protection) redefined the sport's ethics. A redpoint climb involves practicing a route before a clean ascent, which is when someone ascends a route without falling or using gear. It became Gullich’s specialty.

In 1984, Gullich redpointed Kanal im Rucken (8b/5.13d) in the Frankenjura, the world’s first climb at that grade. In 1985, he ascended Punks in the Gym (8b+/5.14a) at Australia’s Mount Arapiles,another global first. In 1987, he sent Wallstreet (8c/5.14b) in the Frankenjura.

Gullich’s masterpiece came in 1991, when he climbed Action Directe (9a/5.14d), a 15m, 45° overhanging route with tiny holds, at Waldkopf in the Frankenjura. To this day, it remains a benchmark for sport climbing’s elite.

The Campus Board

Gullich’s success wasn’t just physical. He approached climbing like a scientist, studying biomechanics, psychology, and even Eastern philosophy to enhance his performance. To tackle Action Directe’s brutal finger holds, Gullich invented the Campus Board in 1988, a simple set of wooden rungs hung in a Nuremberg gym called Campus. It trained explosive finger strength without foot support.

It worked: Gullich could do pull-ups on one finger per hand, a feat showcased on German TV.

Big walls

Gullich’s talent wasn’t just confined to sport climbing’s bolted routes. He also completed bigwall climbs in some of the world’s wildest places. In 1988, he free climbed the Yugoslavian Route (5.12) on the Nameless Tower of the Trango group in the Karakoram.

A year later, alongside Albert, Christof Stiegler, and Milan Sykora, he made the first ascent of Eternal Flame (7b+ A2) on the same tower, freeing most of the route but using some aid because of the extreme conditions. In 1991, Gullich joined a team on the first ascent of Riders on the Storm on Patagonia’s Paine Towers.

Free solos

Gullich’s free solos were even more daring. In 1986, after a 10m fall on England’s Master’s Edge that severely injured his back, Gullich sought redemption in Yosemite. He targeted Separate Reality, with no footholds, just hand jams over a significant drop below him. He free soloed it, moving with calm precision. During the climb, renowned photographer Heinz Zak captured Gullich suspended mid-jam, chalk bag trailing. The image became an iconic climbing photo and is the Featured image of this article.

Fatal accident

On August 29, 1992, Gullich had a radio interview in Munich. After the interview, he was driving home to Nuremberg when he fell asleep on the A9 Autobahn near Ingolstadt and flipped his car. In the hospital, he was placed into an induced coma, but he died two days later, at age 31.

Legacy

He rejected the 1980s competition trend, believing that a successful climber is someone who has done many hard routes in many areas, not just a local specialist. Gullich’s impact went beyond physical feats: his mindset reshaped climbing culture. He saw climbing as a blend of art and science, where creativity and discipline met.

According to writer Tilmann Hepp, Gullich didn’t just climb routes, he created problems that forced climbers to evolve. Gullich’s Frankenjura climbs, such as Wallstreet, introduced dynamic moves and finger-intensive holds that challenged the status quo. Climbers had to adapt, training harder and smarter to keep up.

Gullich's invention of the Campus Board wasn’t just a tool; it was a shift in how climbers prepared. Before Gullich, training was often haphazard: pull-ups on doorframes or random hangs. Gullich brought structure, focusing on explosive power and finger strength. This approach inspired a generation, from early adopters like Jerry Moffatt to modern climbers like Alex Megos, who still train on Campus Boards.

Gullich’s influence is everywhere in modern climbing. Action Directe remains a very difficult challenge, and only a few climbers, like Iker Pou, Alex Megos, and Adam Ondra, have repeated it, often calling the route a humbling experience.

Gullich’s training principles, based on specificity, progression, and recovery, are now core to climbing programs. He even worked as a stunt double for Sylvester Stallone in Cliffhanger (released posthumously in 1993).

We recommend reading Wolfgang Gullich: A Life in the Vertical by Tilmann Hepp (1994), which is the definitive biography, packed with his journals, photos, and quotes.

Below, you can watch a documentary on Gullich, with English subtitles available:

On October 19, 1954, climbers topped out on Cho Oyu for the first time. A small Austrian party summited via the Northwest Ridge after approaching through Nangpa La. Herbert Tichy, Sepp Joechler, and Pasang Dawa Lama summited without supplemental oxygen.

Scouting Cho Oyu

In 1951, Eric Shipton led a British team to scout the mountain from the west while studying the routes up Everest. They examined Cho Oyu's Northwest Ridge but didn’t climb, focusing on maps. In 1952, Shipton returned with a stronger group, including Edmund Hillary. They reached approximately 6,800m on the Northwest Ridge but hit a dangerous icefall with huge ice blocks. Shipton’s team found the icefall too difficult and dangerous and turned back.

Herbert Tichy and the 1954 expedition

Herbert Tichy, a 42-year-old Austrian geologist, led the 1954 expedition. Born in Vienna in 1912, he grew up hiking in the Austrian Alps. As a young man, he rode a motorcycle to India in 1935, crossing deserts and mountains while mapping rocks and writing about the people he met. World War II forced him into the German army.

After the war, he wrote books about his travels, including a popular one on Tibet. In 1952, he tried Kangchenjunga but aborted due to stormy weather. Tichy believed in small teams with light gear.

"We wanted to climb with the least possible means, relying on our own strength," he wrote in the Himalayan Journal. The team carried tents, food, and cameras, but no oxygen or radios.

The team

Sepp Joechler, 31, was a bricklayer from Tyrol. Born in Landeck, he started climbing at 17 with his brother Hans. By the 1940s, he was carrying out bold winter climbs in the Lechtal Alps. He climbed the Eiger’s North Face in 1952 with Hermann Buhl.

Pasang Dawa Lama, 42, from Namche Bazaar, was already an experienced mountaineer. In 1937, he carried out the first ascent of a 7,000’er. Together with Spencer Chapman, he summited Chomolhari, surviving a challenging descent. He carried loads to 8,000m on early Everest trips and climbed Nanda Devi. He joined as the Sherpa leader of the expedition.

The Austrian party included Dr. Helmut Heuberger from Innsbruck, as well as Ajiba Sherpa, Angnima Sherpa, and Gyaltsen Sherpa.

Approach and establishing camps

The team left Austria in early September and flew to Kathmandu before heading to Namche Bazaar. During their approach, the monsoon brought rain and mist that turned to snow above 3,900m. On September 19, they reached Namche Bazaar for final preparations. Four days later, after a trek over moraines and frozen glaciers, they crossed the Nangpa La (Nangpa Pass) into Tibet.

They established Base Camp at 5,500m on the Gyabrag Glacier, below Cho Oyu’s Northwest Ridge. Using Shipton’s maps, they planned a better route.

"We studied the mistakes of earlier expeditions and chose a line that avoided the worst of the icefall," wrote Tichy. In the first week of October, they set up Camps 1 and 2.

The icefall below Camp 3 (at around 6,560m) was the hardest part. Pasang and Ajiba spent two days finding a way through, tying ropes. Soon after, a storm hit Camp 3 during the night. Tichy’s mittens came off as he tried to save the Sherpas’ tent, and his hands froze within minutes. Pasang and Angnima warmed Tichy's hands between their thighs, while Ajiba found his gloves. They abandoned the tents, roping up for a desperate retreat.

They descended to Camp 2 and the storm eased, but Tichy’s hands were "misshapen and hurt." He couldn’t undo a button or eat without help. The doctor and the Sherpas moved to Camp 1 to give him space. Tichy despaired.

Regrouping and waiting

At Camp 1, the team regrouped. Tichy’s hands needed hospital care, but Kathmandu was three weeks away. They decided Pasang and a few Sherpas would bring supplies from Marlung, while Tichy rested.

Camp 1 was "idyllically situated," with views of Cho Oyu and other peaks. Each day, they watched Cho Oyu’s snow plume to gauge the summit winds.

"We knew that only an almost windless day would make an ascent possible," Tichy wrote. The weather stayed clear but wild, with fierce winds signaling winter’s approach.

They waited for Pasang. Tichy’s hands, wrapped in fleece and three pairs of gloves, remained useless but protected. The team’s hope wavered after the storm’s brutality, but Pasang’s return sparked new determination. He had trekked from Marlung over the Nangpa La in just three days, driven by fear that a Swiss expedition led by Raymond Lambert, now nearby, might beat them to the summit.

The second attempt

The team planned a second summit push, learning from their earlier failure. Instead of tents at Camp 3, they dug an ice cave, inspired by Arctic igloos. Once, Joechler and two Sherpas tried to reach Camp 4 at 7,010m, but returned. Supplies were low, and Pasang’s earlier absence had limited their options. The Swiss team’s presence added pressure; they had only one shot at the summit.

They finally set a new Camp 4 a little bit higher, but digging another ice cave was impossible in the hard snow, so they anchored their tents tightly. Joechler and Pasang were chosen for the summit push, while Tichy debated joining them.

"I hated my helplessness," he admitted. He decided to climb without a rope, so he could turn back without slowing the others. "If I found I was not fit enough myself to grapple with Lady Luck, I would at any rate still not have cost them the summit," he reasoned.

The summit push

On October 19, Tichy, Joechler, and Pasang started around midnight. The three climbers moved fast, mostly without ropes to save time. Pasang led, using his Everest experience to pick the best path through snowfields. Tichy’s hands got so cold they started to freeze. Joechler stayed close, ready to catch a possible slip. At sunrise, they reached the summit ridge. The wind was sharp, and Tichy’s fingers turned black from frostbite.

"My hands were useless, but I could not turn back so close to the goal," Tichy said.

On October 19, 1954, at 3 pm, they stood on Cho Oyu’s summit. But getting down was challenging; Tichy’s frostbitten hands were swollen and useless. Pasang and Joechler helped him, and the three men finally completed the descent to Base Camp.

"We proved that courage and teamwork could do what heavy expeditions could not," recalled Tichy in his expedition report.

Cho Oyu became the fifth 8,000'er ascended, after Annapurna I, Everest, Nanga Parbat, and K2.

Every year, the Banff Centre Mountain Film and Book Festival celebrates the best mountain and adventure writing, film, and photography. The literary highlight of this alpine-themed bacchanal is the Banff Mountain Book Competition, which is divided into eight categories and one grand prize. The grand prize will be awarded at the festival, but the category winners have been announced.

First, a moment for the two Special Jury Mentions. Vineeta Muni's Across the Himalaya is a memoir of Muni's experience on the 1997 all-female 4,500km trans-Himalayan traverse attempt. Meanwhile, Robert Macfarlane's Is a River Alive? follows the author through the world's waterways as he considers the nature and importance of rivers.

Now, the category winners:

The Climbing Literature award went to Moving the Needle by Dave MacLeod. Now, climbers know MacLeod as a master of the sport, but his book positions him, instead, as an average-ability climber from a working-class background who finds himself taking on the world's hardest trad climbing route.

While most winners paid some homage to the environment, the winner of the Environmental Literature category was The Wild Dark: Finding the Night Sky in the Age of Light, by Craig Childs. Through a stargazing Nevada bicycle journey, Childs made the jurists feel it was "impossible not to look up at the stars."

The Mountain Article prize, awarded to a magazine piece rather than a book, went to Caroline Van Hemert for Fleet-Winged Ghosts of Greenland. Van Hemert biographied the peregrine falcon, from the hunting birds of princes to the unhappy stars of Rachel Carson's Silent Spring. 

Focusing on one small Greenland population, Van Hemert blended fieldwork writing, family narrative, history, and ecological plea in one article. It also featured cool pictures of birds.

Fiction, nonfiction, and what lies between

The Mountain Fiction & Poetry prize went to Feryal Ali-Gauhar for her novel, An Abundance of Wild Roses. Jurists called the novel, set in a small village in Pakistan's Black Mountains, "harsh, haunting, and mythic." It, too, is an environmental story, made even more literal by a conflict with supernatural nature spirits.

The nonfiction equivalent category, the Jon Whyte Award, went to the lengthily titled Thirty Below: The Harrowing and Heroic Story of the First All-Women's Ascent of Denali by Cassidy Randall. The second account of an all-female expedition on the winner's list, Randall's work won praise as an act of historical reclamation. Alex Honnold liked it too, if that sweetens the deal.

Even that seemingly most practical, sometimes dull effort, the guidebook, can be literary and award-worthy. In evidence of this, the jury awarded Northern Horizons by Will Herman in the guidebook category. Both the jurists and external reviewers mentioned the stunning photography: Nice pictures always help.

Finally, the winner of the Adventure Travel prize is Jon Waterman for Into the Thaw: Witnessing Wonder Amid the Arctic Climate Crisis. Waterman is a long-time writer and adventurer who brought both skills to bear in this work. He harnessed his Arctic adventurer skills to bring the reader intimately close to anthropogenic damage in the Arctic. The effect is, as jurist David Chambre wrote, "more meaningful than any political speech."

As well as eternal kleos and a shiny new sticker for the paperback edition, the winning authors get cash prizes and a chance to win the grand prize, and more cash, in November.

BY WILL BRENDZA

The LIDAR Data mapping Colorado’s Park, Custer, and Fremont Counties was published in 2020, and it raised questions for Eric Gilbertson. The mountaineer and mechanical engineer likes to conduct ground surveys on peaks in his spare time, and his friend Ben Loftin pointed out how close Crestone and East Crestone Peaks’ elevations looked on the LIDAR data. They were damn near identical on the map.

Gilbertson couldn’t get that out of his head.

"LIDAR data can have errors," Gilbertson told our sister site, GearJunkie. "So, if you see a summit elevation [which is derived] from LIDAR, it could be plus or minus a couple of feet."

So, in October 2025, he and two other scientists set out to determine the precise elevation of both peaks. It was a challenging undertaking — not just because Crestone is one of Colorado’s most notoriously difficult and dangerous 14,000'ers, but also because they’d have to climb it carrying heavy survey equipment. Then, once at the top, they’d need to let the Trimble DA2 dGNSS receivers log data for at least two hours. But the effort paid off.

On October 5, Gilbertson confirmed for the first time that East Crestone Peak is actually 3.6 inches taller than Crestone. And because they’re connected by a ridge that barely dips 50 feet, "this means East Crestone is, in fact, a ranked 14'er and Crestone is a sub-peak," Gilbertson said.

That might not seem like a big change to some. But for the thousands of hikers and climbers who obsess over Colorado’s 14,000+ foot peaks, it’s big news. According to Gilbertson’s findings, the Centennial State just lost one 14'er and gained a new one.

The 3.6-inch difference: East Crestone vs. Crestone

Gilbertson is an associate teaching professor of mechanical and civil engineering at Seattle University. He’s summited K2 without oxygen and has bagged all of the Centennial 14'ers (Crestone Peak, included). Two years ago, he became just the third American to receive the Snow Leopard Award for summiting all five 7,000m peaks in the former Soviet Union.

Last year, he surveyed Mount Rainier and proved that the summit had moved over 150 meters from the summit point recognized by the U.S. Geological Survey (USGS). A graduate of MIT, he’s a no-nonsense kind of person who approaches problems very methodically. He applied that meticulousness to the Crestone survey.

"I did this as rigorously as possible," he said.

They used two separate receivers, one on each peak. The receivers took data simultaneously so that any atmospheric distortions would be the same for both data sets.

"Each of these receivers is on a one-foot rod, which is perfectly vertical and touching the exact summit. And then that’s stabilized with a tripod," he described. "So then we can measure the height of the receiver, and subtract off a foot, and you get the height of the ground underneath it."

The longer these receivers log data, the more accurate it gets. So, after leaving the trailhead at 1:30 am, hiking the grueling trail to the summit, and arriving right at sunrise, he, Loftin, and Elijah Gendron had to hang out at 14,299 feet for two hours and 15 minutes.

A long day

It made for a long day, not least because Gilbertson had his flight home that same afternoon. It was a race against the clock to gather the data they needed, get down, and then get to DIA as fast as possible.

But you can’t rush science. So, they waited, taking in the views, relaxing, checking up on the receivers, taking measurements, and generally killing time until the data was done logging.

Gilbertson made his flight. When he reviewed the data back at his Seattle home, he was pretty excited about what they’d discovered: a 3.6-inch difference in favor of East Crestone Peak.

"It’s really close," he said. "Which is why we were using all the fancy equipment."

Making it ‘official’

Now that we have the data proving East Creston is the true summit, the USGS should make it official, change the maps, and notify the public. Right?

It’s not quite that simple, according to Gilbertson.

He said he isn’t sure how else something becomes "official" besides publishing it in a journal. When his discovery at Mount Rainier was published, he said the USGS "didn’t care at all." It was interesting news for climbers, mountaineers, and Seattle locals. But the government didn’t take it seriously enough to change anything. He expects a similar response to this discovery about East Crestone.

Still, the news is scientifically important, and that’s important to him, which counts for something. "It’s definitely neat to discover something new. That’s one of my motivations for measuring mountains," he said. And, this news about Crestone seems particularly important to people in the Centennial State. "It seems like in Colorado, many more people are interested here, even compared to the Rainier measurement."

So, if Crestone is still on your 14er list, you might consider climbing East Crestone instead. It’s a short distance from one to the other and just 3.5 inches of extra elevation gain.

This story first appeared in GearJunkie.

The sixth-highest mountain in the world, Cho Oyu is located 20km west of Everest, on the border between Tibet and Nepal. We have already written a brief climbing history of the mountain, as well as a history of climbing Cho Oyu from Tibet. Today, we will examine the climbing routes on the Nepalese side of this so-called Turquoise Goddess.

The various climbing routes on Cho Oyu include both the southern (Nepalese) and northern (Tibetan) sides of the peak. The comparatively easy normal route goes up the northwest side in Tibet. The Nepalese side is technically demanding, with steep faces, a high risk of avalanches, and unpredictable weather. That's why almost all commercial expeditions use the Tibetan route. Despite its difficulty, some notable climbs do take place on the Nepalese side.

In October 1978, a small Austrian-German team, led by Eduard Koblmueller, embarked on an unauthorized ascent of Cho Oyu’s formidable Southeast Face. It was a bold goal; Reinhold Messner had deemed the route unclimbable. The team, consisting of Koblmueller, Alois Furtner, Peter Von Gizicky, Gerhard Haberl, and Herbert Spousta, carried 250kg of gear to a 5,000m Base Camp, operating under a trekking permit for Gokyo.

Facing a 3,000m wall of ice-saturated rock, avalanche-prone plateaus, and steep ice troughs, they established camps at 6,000m and 7,400m, fixing ropes through the treacherous sections. They didn’t use supplemental oxygen or Sherpa support.

On October 27, Koblmueller and Furtner reached the summit at 6 pm, witnessing Everest as the sun set. Haberl had turned back at 8,000m because of frostbitten toes, and Gizycki and Spousta retreated at 7,800m. Heavy snowfall trapped the team at 6,600m without food or fuel, but they avoided avalanches and had all descended safely by November 1.

Controversy

The ascent, described by Koblmueller as his most challenging climb, sparked controversy. Stefan Woerner and Haberl later questioned whether the team climbed the Southeast Face or the easier Tichy route (the first ascent route of 1954). In 1981, Japanese climbers found no evidence of prior ascents on the southern face, and Gunter Hauser and the German Alpine Club doubted the summit claim.

However, Reinhold Messner saw the team's photos and argued that they did climb the Southeast Face, as claimed. Jan Boon, who met the three Austrians in the Khumbu, also supported their claim, noting their description of a unique Tibetan view from the summit.

Nepal’s Ministry of Tourism banned the group for five years for climbing without a permit.

Winter first by the Southeast Pillar

In February 1985, a Polish-Canadian expedition led by Andrzej Zawada achieved the first winter ascent of Cho Oyu. They climbed via the challenging Southeast Pillar, a route with brutal conditions. The team, including Jerzy Kukuczka, Zygmunt A. Heinrich, Maciej Berbeka, and Maciej Pawlikowski, faced a perilous 1,000m ridge fraught with rockfall risk. They established five camps up to 7,600m and didn’t use bottled oxygen. With only four members to carry gear, they struggled with logistics, moving a Camp 3 tent to serve as Camp 5.

On February 12, Berbeka and Pawlikowski summited after reaching 200m below the peak by 11 am, battling mist and technical difficulties. Kukuczka and Heinrich, delayed by differing acclimatization — Kukuczka was fresh from summiting Dhaulagiri on January 21 — followed on February 15. They hoisted Polish, Nepalese, and German flags, stayed 20 minutes taking photos, and enjoyed the sunset views despite temperatures of -25°C and fierce winds.

The descent proved complicated: Kukuczka fell four meters, and wary of darkness, the pair bivouacked at 7,920m before reaching Camp 5 on February 16. Kukuczka suffered slight frostbite on his fingers and toes, while a rockfall leg injury had earlier sidelined Heinrich. Earlier, Dmoch withdrew because of heart issues.

This ascent marked Kukuczka’s eighth 8,000’er and his second in a month. He thus became the first to ascend two 8,000m peaks in Nepal in such a short period.

New route: Southwest Face up, West Ridge down

In the autumn of 1990, Voytek Kurtyka, Erhard Loretan, and Jean Troillet ascended Cho Oyu's Southwest Face and descended by the West Ridge without supplemental oxygen. In their report for The Himalayan Database, they explained that the most difficult part of the climb was a few sections with deep snow and rock just above a couloir.

Japanese climber Yasushi Yamanoi established a new variation of the 1990 route in the autumn of 1994. He summited on September 23 without bottled oxygen.

Southeast Ridge- East Ridge route

In the autumn of 1991, a Russian expedition led by Sergey Efimov successfully established a new route on the Southeast Ridge- East Ridge. Other climbers had previously attempted this route, without success.

The team consisted of 14 Russians, one Ukrainian, and one Bashkir (a Turkic ethnic group from Russia).

They established their Base Camp northeast of Gyazumpa between two lakes. They navigated the complex East Ridge by setting up camps and fixing ropes at key sections:
- 100m through an icefall below Camp 2
- 120m just before Camp 2
- 400m between Camp 2 and Camp 3
- 730m from Camp 3 to Camp 4
- 320m between Camp 4 and Camp 5
- 80m above Camp 5

Above Camp 5, the route followed the ridge into a 70m-deep gully with mixed rock, ice, and snow. The rock was brittle, although some areas allowed them to install bolts. The gully’s north and south faces featured 3,000m rock walls descending from the ridge, with snow atop and steep rock faces beyond the gully.

On the Tibetan side, a couloir ran parallel, and a shelf on the far west side allowed a critical 200m traverse on 80° rock faces, described as the most difficult part of the climb. This traverse led back to the border ridge toward the summit.

Summit push

After establishing Camp 4, the team rested at lower camps. On October 15, a group scouted and fixed ropes beyond Camp 4. Three days later, a summit attempt from Camp 4 reached 7,900m (beyond the gully) by 1 pm, but they aborted the push because it was too late, and climbing in darkness would be very hard.

On October 19, the next summit party moved equipment from Camp 4 to establish Camp 5 at 6,950m. They arrived at 3 pm and fixed 100m of rope, then spent the night.

On October 20, starting at 8 am, Ivan Plotnikov, Eugeny Vinogradsky, Alexsander Yakovenko, Valeri Pershin, and Sergey Bogomolov summited. Plotnikov, Vinogradsky, and Yakovenko reached the top around 11 am, followed by Pershin and Bogomolov nearly two hours later, all without supplemental oxygen.

Yuri Grebeniuk, a surgeon, attempted the summit but turned back at 8,000m when his fingers began to freeze. He returned to Camp 5 at 1:30 pm with the first three summiters. They all spent the night at Camp 5.

Tragedy on descent

On October 21, the team descended from Camp 5 to Camp 3, leaving the Camp 5 tent behind but taking the sleeping bags. During the descent through the gully, a falling rock struck Grebeniuk on the forehead while he was climbing a 15m section.

Helmets were not worn above Camp 3, as rockfall was not anticipated. Grebeniuk sustained a deep wound and died within a minute. His teammates couldn't carry his body down because of the difficult terrain, so they left him in a sleeping bag on a shelf in the gully. During attempts to move the body, Pershin frostbit his fingers, which turned black but were expected to heal. He used oxygen that night in Camp 3.

Timofeev also sustained a head wound from a falling rock, and Pogorelov had a painful nerve issue in one leg that required a week’s rest at Base Camp.

Reincarnation: the Southeast Face Direct

In the spring of 2009, Denis Urubko and Boris Dedeshko from Kazakhstan embarked on a daring alpine-style ascent of the Southeast Face via a committing new route. Urubko, captivated by the face since 2001, described it as "terrifying and beautiful" in the American Alpine Journal.

The duo flew to Lukla on April 5 and began their acclimatization during the trek to Namche. They climbed Chhukung Peak to 5,800m, spent two nights there, and later reached 7,100m on the Ngozumba massif’s south face.

By April 14, they established Base Camp at 5,100m on the Ngozumba Glacier’s moraine. During a reconnaissance on April 25, they set an Advanced Base Camp at 5,300m on the Lungsampa Glacier. Urubko, battling a chest condition, briefly descended to Namche for recovery, returning by May 4.

The summit push

They left Base Camp on May 6, reaching ABC at 5,300m. At midnight, they tackled the Southeast Face from 5,600m, climbing steep rock (50º to 90º, sometimes overhanging) amid avalanches and falling rocks.

On May 7, they bivouacked at 6,000m on a tiny ledge, enduring wind and snow.

"The world narrowed to dimensions of a dull glass box 10m a side," Urubko wrote, capturing the claustrophobic intensity.

They progressed to 6,600m, then to 7,100m, bivouacking under seracs and bergschrunds as a storm raged. On May 10, they navigated a rock band at 7,300-7,500m before stopping at 7,600m.

On May 11, despite worsening weather, Urubko and Dedesho summited at 8:10 pm via deep snow and avalanche-prone couloirs. Urubko, completing his 14th 8,000m peak, felt "empty and transparent, like glass."

A dangerous descent

The descent was perilous. Avalanches buried their tent, and a rock struck Urubko’s head. By May 14, they reached Advanced Base Camp, returning to Base Camp on May 15, exhausted and frostbitten. With only 1,200m of rope, reused throughout, they left no gear behind. Urubko called it his most dangerous climb.

They named their 2,600m route (6b A2/3 M6 with steep snow and ice) Reincarnation. Here is their exciting report in the American Alpine Journal.

After the Urubko-Dedeshko climb of 2009, there were no successful ascents from the Nepalese side of the peak until 2024. In 2022, Gelje Sherpa's team climbed from Gokyo but stopped at 7,400m because of avalanches. In 2023, from Thame, they hit 7,600m, but the weather won. A Russian team led by Andrey Vasiliev tried the South-Southwest Ridge in fall 2023 and spring 2024, reaching 7,200m each time.

In 2024, a Seven Summit Treks team with Alasdair McKenzie, Tenjing Gyalzen, Lakpa Temba, Lakpa Tenji, Ngima Ongda, Chhangba, and Gelje Sherpa established a route by the South-Southwest ridge. This team used supplemental oxygen.

A couple of days ago, Czech climbers Marek Holecek and Radoslav Groh arrived at Cho Oyu, aiming to open a new alpine-style route up the Southeast Face.

Marc-Andre Leclerc loved mountains for the adventure, not for the fame. He achieved incredible things, winter soloing Torre Egger in Patagonia and free climbing El Capitan’s Muir Wall, among other notable climbs. He was never nominated for a Piolet d’Or, but Leclerc didn’t care about awards.

Leclerc thought chasing records or attention took away from the real experience of climbing.

"The obsession with time and speed is one of the greatest detractors from the alpine experience," he wrote.

His 2016 solo climb of Mount Robson’s Emperor Face, a tough 1,500m wall in the Canadian Rockies, demonstrates this climbing ethos.

Mount Robson and its first ascent

Mount Robson (3,954m) in British Columbia’s Mount Robson Provincial Park is the highest peak in the Canadian Rockies. The Secwepemc people call it Yexyexescen, meaning "striped rock," and see it as sacred. Europeans named it after fur trader Colin Robertson. Its height and bad weather, with lots of snow and wind from the Pacific, make it a hard climb.

In 1909, Arthur Oliver Wheeler explored Mount Robson but couldn’t summit. In 1913, George Kinney and Curly Phillips skied to the base. That same year, at the end of July, Albert MacCarthy, William Foster, and guide Conrad Kain reached the top via the northeast Kain Face. They cut over 1,600 ice steps, making it North America’s hardest ice climb at the time. Kain said: "God made the mountains, but good God! Who made Robson?"

From 1939 to 1953, no one summited the peak, but after World War II, new routes opened. In 1951, climbers tackled the Southeast Face. In 1962, Steve Roper and Allen Steck climbed the Wishbone Arete, which was listed in the book Fifty Classic Climbs of North America. However, the steep northwestern wall, the brutal Emperor Face of ice, rock, and snowy gullies, was the real challenge.

Mike Perla and Jim Spencer first completed the impressive Emperor Ridge, which is the northwest ridge, in 1961.

Ascents of the Emperor Face

In July 1978, James Logan and Mugs Stump made the first ascent of the Emperor Face, via a difficult VI 5.9 A2 route to the summit ridge. Logan had tried and failed to climb the face in 1976 and 1977, each unsuccessful attempt fueling his determination to succeed on a face that he found more impressive than the Eiger. After an unsuccessful climb on Mount Logan’s Hummingbird Ridge and waiting out two weeks of rain below the Emperor Face, a clear day finally gave them their chance.

They set up a camp high on the lower snow slopes, having already climbed 914m of easier snow and rock, carrying 25 pitons and eight days’ of food. The climb pushed their skills and courage, with steep 60° ice, thin ice over vertical rock steps, and few safe spots to place gear. Instead, they relied on shaky pitons or tied-off screws.

On the first day, Stump and Logan reached a snow rib in the center of the face, a spot previously reached by Pat Callis and Jim Kanzler, the highest point on earlier attempts. The next day was grueling, with every other section extremely hard: thin ice, loose rock, and an overhanging wall. Logan’s key section involved carefully placing pitons and climbing loose, snow-covered rock. He nearly fell when a crampon slipped.

"At such times, I can climb much better than usual, and fortunately can often muster this frame of mind on serious climbs where it is most needed,” Logan wrote, describing the intense focus, shaped by his earlier failed tries, that kept them going.

A night of avalanches

Despite a scary night camped on 70° ice with snow avalanches pouring over them, Logan and Stump kept climbing. Stump led up steep ice to the final wall, and Logan’s careful piton work and risk-free climbing got them to the north face’s snowy slopes. Tired but successful, they pushed through a snow cornice to reach the ridge, then chose to descend the south face instead of going to the summit, which Logan had already reached on a previous trip. For Logan, beating the Emperor Face, after years of failed attempts, was the real victory.

Dave Cheesmond and Tony Dick made the first complete ascent of the Emperor Face to the summit in August 1981.

After the 1981 ascent, and before Leclerc’s solo climb of the Emperor Face in 2016, there were a few more climbs.

In 2002, Barry Blanchard, Eric Dumerac, and Philippe Pellet established Infinite Patience (VI WI5 M5, 2,250m), reaching the summit via the Emperor Ridge. Then, in 2007, Steve House and Colin Haley climbed a variation left of the original Stump-Logan route (WI5 M8, 2,500m total), reaching the summit.

Jason Kruk and John Walsh established a new line to the Emperor Ridge (M6, 2,500m) in 2010, but didn’t continue to the summit in bad weather. In the spring of 2012, John Walsh and Josh Wharton made the first one-day ascent of Infinite Patience. In the autumn of the same year, Jay Mills and Raphael Slawinski completed the third ascent of the same line.

Leclerc goes solo

Leclerc had been dreaming of climbing the Emperor Face since he first saw pictures of it at the age of 10.

In 2016, at age 23, he felt strong enough to carry out his plan. From March 25 to April 11, he climbed four routes in the Valley of the Ten Peaks with his friend Luka Lindic, including three new ones.

"Each time we climbed another route, I could feel that my familiarity and confidence with the Rockies' unique style of mixed climbing was becoming stronger," Leclerc wrote.

In 2014, Leclerc had tried soloing Mount Andromeda’s Shooting Gallery route (also known as the North Ridge Couloir) and got scared, climbing "downward sloping frozen cubes of choss masked beneath six inches of powder snow." He barely made it down. Now, he was ready to try again.

Leclerc didn’t own a car, so he hitched rides from Banff to Jasper and camped in hidden spots. He didn’t use a phone or watch, just an MP3 player for music. Before tackling Robson, he tested himself by soloing Mount Andromeda’s Andromeda Strain route.

"I marveled at how well the climb had gone and at how calm and comfortable I had felt soloing the route," he wrote after. He was ready for the Emperor Face.

Leclerc's Emperor Face

Leclerc took a bus to Mount Robson and spotted it from the highway. "The way it seemed to just tower above the road was like no other mountain I had seen; the summit felt incredibly distant, as if it were located on another planet entirely."

He hiked 20km to Berg Lake, then skied to the Mist Glacier’s edge. There, he camped and looked at the Emperor Face, partly covered in clouds with wind howling high above.

"For the first time in a long time, I felt deeply intimidated by the aura of the mountain," he said.

The next morning was calm. He skied up the moraine, then at the base, he put on crampons and got out his ice tools. He chose Infinite Patience and its gullies, chimneys, and ice runnels. The first ice pillar was steep and thin.

"The steepness took me by surprise and I had to stop to shake out several times through the crux section before the angle slowly eased off," he wrote.

Deep snow slowed him in Bubba’s Couloir (named after Barry Blanchard), but he kept going, brushing away powder to find cracks for his tools.

"I would brush away large amounts of snow until finding an ideal thin crack, then I would use my other tool to gently tap the pick into place, creating a sort of self-belay."

Soaked by snow mushrooms

Halfway up, he saw Berg Lake below. Near the top, snow mushrooms blocked the ice runnels. He tunneled through one, getting wet.

"I soon found myself scraping up a sketchy groove while digging a tunnel through the snow mushroom...I could not help but dislodge snow into my jacket and was soon soaked down to my base layer."

Worried about getting too cold, he pushed on. The climbing improved on firm snow and mixed grooves. On a sunny ledge, he dried his clothes and made four liters of water, thinking the wind higher up might stop his stove. Two chimney pitches took him to the Emperor Ridge, where the views were phenomenal.

The 800m traverse across the west face was tough. For Leclerc, it was the physical and mental crux of the route.

"I kicked steps and planted my tools for what felt like an eternity, my gloves becoming wet and freezing solid in the cold wind."

He reached the summit at sunset, his feet hurting badly. "Robson seemed to be so much taller than any of the surrounding peaks, like a platform in the sky looking down on the rest of the world," he wrote.

Descent and survival

After summiting, Leclerc chose to descend by the west face and the Emperor Ridge.

Leclerc was too tired to go down right away. He dug a trench in the summit snow and got into a thin bivy sack. He tried to stay warm with a hot water bottle, but the boiling water spilled, soaking him.

"I yelled an obscenity and realized that my situation was becoming too desperate to stay on the summit any longer."

His headlamp batteries were dead, and his gear was covered in ice, but he started rappelling, using V-threads in the ice and leaving some gear behind.

At dawn, he reached a ledge and tried to melt snow, but his lighter fell down the mountain. With only 500ml of water left, he kept going, climbing down steep snow as ice fell around him. He saw the mountain’s shadow stretch across the horizon. He reached his skis, then skied to the river, eating food that didn’t need cooking. At Hargreaves shelter, he found a lighter, then realized he had a backup in his pocket all along.

Leclerc’s first solo of the Emperor Face was a huge achievement, but he didn’t tell the world about it. He lived simply, sleeping in stairwells, hitchhiking, and listening to music on his MP3 player.

After Leclerc’s climb, there were a few other excellent climbs on the Emperor Face. In 2018, Jasmin Fauteux and Maarten van Haeren repeated Infinite Patience, and in 2020, Ethan Berman and Uisdean Hawthorn established an amazing new mixed route, Running in the Shadows, up the right side of the face.

Leclerc’s legacy

Tragically, Leclerc died in March 2018 at age 25. He and his climbing partner, Ryan Johnson, disappeared on Alaska’s Mendenhall Towers after climbing a new route. An avalanche likely took them, and their bodies were never found.

The 2021 documentary The Alpinist, directed by Peter Mortimer and Nick Rosen, details Leclerc's incredible climbs and simple life. It features amazing footage and personal moments; the film captures Leclerc’s climbing philosophy.

This month, on October 10, Leclerc would have turned 33 years old.

You can watch the trailer for The Alpinist here:

Today, Kilian Jornet topped out on Mount Rainier, marking the successful completion of his States of Elevation project.

The Spanish mountaineer and ultrarunner has climbed all 72 accessible 14,000-foot peaks in the contiguous United States. His scorchingly quick journey began on September 3 at Longs Peak, Colorado.

Over 31 grueling days, Jornet covered more than 5,000km, linking summits across Colorado, California, and Washington through a blend of running and cycling, all under his own power.

The project saw Jornet tackle an average of over 160km daily — equivalent to Tour de France stages — while ascending technical routes like the LA Freeway and Nolan’s 14. With minimal sleep, often just 4.5 hours per night, he navigated extreme conditions, from desert heat exceeding 38°C to subzero temperatures on Rainier.

His approach emphasized the journey itself, as he noted the "quiet miles" and "shared ridges" between peaks.

Today's ascent of 4,392m Mount Rainier culminated a grueling month-long odyssey that built on his past feats, including 2024's linkup of the Alps’ 82 peaks above 4,000m in 19 days.

More on this historic achievement will follow as details emerge.

In the 1980s, Vladislav Oleksandrovych Terzyul of Ukraine emerged as one of the strongest climbers of his generation. During his career, Terzyul climbed all 14 8,000m peaks, although he only reached secondary summits on Shisha Pangma and Broad Peak.

His life ended tragically on Makalu in 2004. We trace his journey, from his early climbs to his final expedition.

Terzyul was born in Artyom, Russia, on June 18, 1953, and later moved to Odessa, Ukraine, where he settled in the coastal city of Yuzhny. As a young man in the 1970s, he began climbing in the Caucasus Mountains. He summited 5,642m Mount Elbrus, Europe’s highest peak, and tackled technical routes on ice and rock, often in harsh winter conditions.

In the 1980s, Terzyul expanded his experience in the Pamir Mountains of Tajikistan. He also climbed in the Tien Shan and Altai ranges, mastering mixed routes of ice, snow, and rock. His daily routine in Yuzhny included jogging 4.5km and swimming in the Black Sea, keeping him physically ready for the mountains.

By the late 1980s, Terzyul was a leading figure in the Odessa Alpine Club and earned the Soviet title of Master of Sport in alpinism. He summited all the 7,000’ers in the former USSR and won the prestigious Snow Leopard award.

Quest for the 14

Terzyul’s pursuit of the 14 8,000’ers was motivated by Reinhold Messner’s successes. He was convinced that a Ukrainian could summit the 14 peaks without supplemental oxygen. The quest defined his career.

From 1993 to 2003, he summited nine 8,000m peaks, all without supplemental oxygen except Kangchenjunga, his first 8,000'er. He also reached the Central Summit of Shisha Pangma (and skied down from 7,400m, according to RussianClimb) and made it to the foresummit of Broad Peak.

Among his many climbs, a couple stand out. Terzyul was a member of the 1996 Polish International Expedition to Annapurna I that established a new route on the Northwest Ridge. In 2000, he made a successful solo push to Cho Oyu’s summit and skied down to Camp 2. He then helped a sick climber descend from Advanced Base Camp to Base Camp.

In 2001, Terzyul joined the Ukrainian National Expedition to Manaslu, reaching the summit via a new route on the Southeast Ridge. Before the 2004 Makalu expedition, his last summit was Gasherbrum I in 2003.

Makalu, 2004

In the spring of 2004, eight expeditions targeted 8,485m Makalu. Four teams climbed via the Makalu La-Northwest Ridge route (one of them with a variation), while two parties used the Southeast Ridge. Soloist Jean-Christophe Lafaille chose the Northwest Ridge-North Face of the Kangchungtse–Makalu La-Northwest Ridge route, and the Kazakhstan Makalu Expedition, led by Maxut Zhumayev, targeted the difficult West Pillar without bottled oxygen. The Kazakh team included nine climbers: Zhumayev, Sergey Brodsky, Ervand Iljinsky, Damir Molgachev, Vassily Pivtsov, Artyom Rychkov, and Alexander Rudakov, from Kazakhstan; Jay Sieger from the U.S., and Terzyul from Ukraine.

Makalu’s West Pillar is wild, complicated, and dangerous. It is a very exposed route, especially in Makalu’s frequent strong winds. French climbers Bernard Mellet and Yannick Seigneur made the first ascent of the West Pillar on May 23, 1971, using oxygen, as members of a team led by Robert Paragot.

In 1980, John Roskelley made the West Pillar’s second ascent and its first without O2. Only three other expeditions climbed the West Pillar before 2004.

The expedition begins

On April 9, 2004, Zhumayev’s team left for Nepal. They flew to Lukla on April 14, reaching Base Camp by helicopter on April 16, just above the junction of the Barun and Chago Glaciers.

Camps sprang up quickly: Camp 1 was established by April 22 (below 5,180m), Camp 2 by April 23 at the West Pillar’s base, Camp 3 by May 6 at 7,400m on the West Pillar, and Camp 4 by May 13 at 7,700m-7,800m, according to The Himalayan Database.

The first summit attempt took place from May 12 to 14, when Molgachev, Brodsky, and Rychkov climbed from Camp 4. However, strong winds and exhaustion forced them to turn back before the summit, and they retreated to Base Camp.

On May 15, the same trio tried again, leaving Camp 4 at 6 am and reaching 8,300m by 4:30 pm. But high winds and the late hour prompted another retreat to Camp 4.

Terzyul and Sieger summit

On May 17, Terzyul and Sieger departed Camp 4 at 6 am, using fixed ropes. At 7:30 pm, Iljinsky spotted them from Base Camp with a telescope: The pair was summiting Makalu as the sun set. But fog soon engulfed the peak, obscuring them from view.

The next day, Iljinsky observed Sieger descending alone to 8,300m by 9:30 am, where he sat down, exhausted. After a five-minute break from observing, Iljinsky returned and saw only a red object -- Sieger’s body -- among the rocks. No further movement was detected, confirming the 45-year-old American's death.

There was no sign of Terzyul, suggesting that he and Sieger had separated post-summit, possibly due to differing descent speeds, an accident, or disorientation in the fog.

Finding Sieger

Despite snow at Base Camp on May 19, Pivtsov and Zhumayev launched a summit bid from Camp 4 at 12:10 pm, reaching the top on May 20 just before 10 am in clear conditions. During their descent, they found Sieger’s body at 8,300m, upside down among large rocks, right arm extended up, head facing down. The body was impossible to move. They returned to Camp 4 by 6 pm.

On May 20, Molgachev, Brodsky, Rychkov, and Rudakov started another attempt from Base Camp but retreated to Camp 2 in worsening weather. Molgachev and Rychkov reached Camp 4 on May 24, starting for the summit at 11:45 am, but stopped at 8,000m due to heavy snow, wind, and cold. They returned to Base Camp that day, ending the expedition.

In 2010, a Ukrainian team found Sieger’s body lower on the mountain, at 7,800m, hanging from a rope, likely shifted by natural forces. Despite extensive searches, they found no trace of Terzyul.

Legacy and tributes

Terzyul died on Makalu aged 50. While his 14 peaks are disputed internationally because of the two secondary summits, Terzyul is hailed in Ukraine as the country’s first climber to complete all 14.

In 2010, the Ukraine Makalu Expedition, led by Valentin Simonenko, summited Makalu and placed a black rectangular plaque on the West Ridge in Terzyul’s memory. In 2021, a group led by Yulia Zi released a biographical documentary called Terzyul14. In 2015, Oleksiy Honcharuk, Natalia Polyakova, and Oleg Sytnyk published Vladislav Terzyul: Tie Your Knot, revealing personal details about Terzyul’s life. His daughter, Yulia, noted that the book uncovered new facets of his personality, blending his athletic achievements with his humility and strength.

In the autumn of 1988, a team of Slovak climbers set out to tackle Everest’s Southwest Face, a steep and unforgiving route first climbed by Chris Bonington’s British team in 1975. That earlier climb used siege tactics, with fixed ropes, camps, and bottled oxygen.

The Slovaks wanted to do it differently, in alpine style, carrying everything themselves, no oxygen, no Sherpas, no pre-set camps. It was a bold plan, one of the toughest climbs ever attempted on Everest. They succeeded, but at a terrible cost: One man reached the summit, but he and three others disappeared on the descent.

The team

The Slovak team was led by Ivan Fiala, a 47-year-old mountaineer from Bratislava with years of experience in the Himalaya. For this expedition, he remained at Base Camp, overseeing the operation. His deputy, Jaroslav Orsula, handled logistics, while Dr. Milan Skladany kept an eye on the team’s health. The climbers chosen for the Southwest Face were four strong alpinists from Slovakia’s Tatra Mountains: Dusan Becik, 34, a technician; Peter Bozik, 34, a blacksmith; Jaroslav Jasko, 27, an engineer; and Jozef Just, 33, a calm and steady climber. All were skilled, tested on tough peaks, and ready for Everest’s challenge.

The goal

The team planned to repeat the 1975 British route up the Southwest Face, but without the heavy support. They would carry minimal gear and move fast, climbing as a tight group. First, they would acclimatize on Lhotse, using its West Face to prepare their bodies for high altitude. Then they would switch to Everest, aiming to climb the Southwest Face in two or three days, and descend via the South Col and Southeast Ridge.

It was a daring idea, especially without oxygen, which even Bonington had called impossible for this route. The route, known as the Hard Way, featured steep ice couloirs, a notorious rock band with chimneys rated V-VI on the UIAA scale, long snow traverses prone to avalanches, and exposure that left little room for error.

Deals at Base Camp

The expedition was officially a joint "Czechoslovakia-New Zealand" effort, but the two groups operated mostly on their own. The New Zealanders, led by Rob Hall, had their own plans for Everest’s South Pillar and Lhotse’s West Face, but they shared the permit and some Base Camp resources. This partnership helped with negotiations in the crowded Base Camp, where Fiala’s party arrived on Sept. 9, 1988. To reach the Western Cwm, the flat valley below the Southwest Face, the Slovaks had to cross the Khumbu Icefall.

By that time, U.S. and French expeditions had already set up ropes through the Icefall, charging $7,000 for their use. It was a huge sum for the Slovaks, who came from a communist country with little money. After negotiations, the French permitted Fiala's team to use the ropes. The Americans also agreed, in exchange for gear and food. The South Koreans also consented after the Slovaks promised to fix ropes to Camp 4 on Lhotse, which the Slovaks planned to climb as part of their acclimatization. These deals were crucial; without them, the expedition might have stalled before it began.

Establishing camps

In the first weeks, Becik, Just, and Jasko worked hard to set up camps. They placed Camp 1 at the top of the Khumbu Icefall, Camp 2 in the Western Cwm at 6,400m, and Camp 3 at 7,250m on the steep, icy Lhotse Face. Sherpas helped with food and materials to Camp 2, but the upper work was a team effort.

Fiala stayed at Base Camp, talking to the climbers on the radio. Orsula kept supplies organized, and Skladany checked for signs of altitude sickness: headaches, nausea, or worse. The doctor noted how the thin air stole appetites and sleep. Base Camp life was a routine of boiling snow for tea, repairing gear under prayer flags, and watching storms roll in from the east.

Acclimatizing on Lhotse

Before their main goal on Everest, the team needed to acclimatize. On September 21, after a spell of bad weather, they started up Lhotse from Base Camp. Becik and Just led the way from Camp 3. After seven hours, they reached 8,050m and bivouacked for four hours in a small tent.

That night, September 27, they climbed by moonlight. On September 28 at 6:00 am, Becik and Just reached Lhotse’s 8,516m summit without bottled oxygen. The ascent was a seven-hour grind from Camp 3, pushing through fixed lines the team had helped place for the Koreans. At the top, the views stretched to the horizon: Everest's black pyramid dominating, the curve of the Kangshung Glacier below.

Bozik and Jasko went as far as Camp 4 at 7,900m, spending a night there before turning back. They bivouacked just under the chimney leading to the summit, enduring a couple of hours in the open before descending, saving their energy for Everest.

All four descended to Camp 2 on September 28 and Base Camp on September 29. Lhotse had done its job: Their bodies were ready. Fiala praised it as a key step, noting how the four strong climbers -- now battle-tested -- emerged hungrier for the face. Radio reports from the descent spoke of fatigue but no major issues, and Skladany's checks at Base Camp confirmed improved altitude tolerance.

The first try on Everest

On October 7, Becik, Bozik, Jasko, and Just started their first attempt on Everest’s Southwest Face.

They moved through the Icefall and reached Camp 2 in the Western Cwm, but strong winds hit hard, trapping them in their tents. The next day, the weather was too bad to climb higher, and they retreated to Base Camp. It was a setback, but they weren’t done. They rested, ate, and waited for a better chance. Skladany checked them over, noting fast heartbeats and tired eyes, but they were still strong. Orsula made sure their gear was ready: one tent’s inner lining, two sleeping bags (for Bozik and Jasko, who planned to try Lhotse later), three days of food, a stove with gas, 240m of rope, four ice axes, two ice hammers, three small cameras, and one light video camera. No oxygen.

This first probe exposed the Face's temperament. Winds howled down the couloirs, whipping spindrift into blinding sheets, and the lower ramps felt steeper than photos suggested. Back at Base Camp, Fiala reviewed the reports, adjusting expectations. The delay built tension, but it also allowed recovery.

Another push

On October 12, they tried again. They left Base Camp, crossed the Icefall, and reached Camp 2. Winds kept them there on October 13, but at 3 am on October 14, they started up. The first day was tough. They had planned to climb a key couloir, but the ice was harder than expected, and technical sections slowed them down. By 7 pm, they stopped at 8,100m, setting up their first bivouac on a platform they carved out of the snow.

The lower wall proved a rude welcome. Icy terrain demanded constant axe work, and a difficult stone wall rated V-VI UIAA loomed, forcing careful route-finding. Just radioed down that progress was slow, but the group felt solid, with no health complaints yet. Digging the platform took precious energy; the cold night tested their minimal sleeping setup.

October 15 was clearer, but the Rock Band’s chimney -- a steep, narrow section from the 1975 route -- was harder than they thought. It took all day to climb, with icy holds and loose rock. By 5 pm, they reached 8,400m, above the Rock Band, and made another bivouac. They were moving more slowly than planned, but the summit was close. No one reported any issues, and the radio crackled with steady updates, Fiala noting the climber's resilience.

A third bivouac, concerns start

On October 16, they faced a long snowfield, sloping to the right. It was slow going, with soft snow and hidden hard patches. Becik started to struggle, feeling sick, weak, and vomiting in the morning. His strength sapped, the others were forced to match his faltering rhythm. The group stayed together, but it took the whole day to cross.

At 7 pm, after two and a half hours of digging, they set up their third bivouac at 8,600m, just below the South Summit. Fiala, at Base Camp, was worried. The team was behind schedule, and Becik’s condition was a red flag. Over the radio that night, the team said Becik was better.

The platform at 8,600m was tiny, the wind probing for weaknesses in their tent liner.

Pushing alone for the summit

On October 17, at 9 am, they started for the South Summit, hoping to reach it by 10 am, and the main summit by 11. The route was steep but familiar from other climbs. By 10 am, they made it, but the team was breaking apart. Becik, too weak to go on, stayed below the South Summit. Bozik and Jasko (whose vision was blurry, likely from retinal hemorrhages caused by altitude) headed toward the South Col, planning to save energy for Lhotse later. Just went on alone.

On October 17 at 1:40 pm, Just radioed Fiala: He was on Everest’s summit, alone, after completing the first alpine-style, oxygen-free ascent of the Southwest Face. He described bitter cold and strong winds, staying only 15 to 20 minutes on top to take photos. Unsure of Bozik’s and Jasko's positions, he scanned the ridge, seeing only clouds. By 2 pm, he started down. At 3 pm, from the South Summit, he found Becik had moved from where he’d waited. Bozik and Jasko were out of sight, probably heading to the col. Just’s vision was failing too, with spots clouding his eyes.

A call that never came

At 4 pm, Just radioed that he had met Becik and Jasko. Jasko was sluggish, barely moving, and needed urging to descend. Bozik also had vision problems and felt lost. At 5 pm, Becik caught up from above, his eyesight clearer, and took the lead. By 5:30 pm, at 8,300m, halfway to the South Col, they said they could see the route and were okay. They promised another call in two hours from the col. It never came.

At 6 pm, three Americans reached the South Col. The sky was clear, and they could see the route to the South Summit. No one was there, no climbers, no headlamps. By 11 pm, a fierce storm hit, with winds up to 160kph. At Camp 2, four of seven tents were ripped apart, likely blown down the east face. Fiala tried to organize a rescue, offering Sherpas 25 times their pay to check the col. However, the storm was too dangerous, and no one went.

The search

On October 18, at 10 am, the Americans checked again: South Col tents deserted, no signs up high, and Camp 3 empty below. They then descended.

Searches followed, but helicopters couldn’t fly, and climbers found nothing. Becik, Bozik, Jasko, and Just were gone, likely swept off by the storm or lost in crevasses on the Kangshung Face. Their bodies were never found.

Fiala, heartbroken, stopped climbing for good. Orsula and Skladany put up a plaque in Gorak Shep with the climbers’ names.

Legacy

The Slovak climb was a milestone. Reinhold Messner called it one of the greatest Himalayan efforts. Chris Bonington was amazed they did it without oxygen. No one has climbed the Southwest Face in alpine-style since. A 2020 film, Everest: The Hard Way by Pavol Barabas, tells their story, with Fiala’s voice carrying the weight of loss and pride. In Slovakia, climbers still talk about the four, their names a reminder of what’s possible, and what the mountains can take.

The tragedy underscored the limits of oxygenless assaults, yet Just's summit -- one man against the Hard Way -- stands unchallenged in alpine purity.

Kilian Jornet has now finished all 56 accessible peaks in Colorado above 14,000 feet.

Two further 14,000-foot peaks, Culebra and Bross, are on private land and not open to the public, so Jornet did not attempt those. But the Spanish ultrarunner and mountaineer completed the others in an incredibly fast 16 days, covering 1,942 kilometers and 78,004m of elevation gain -- almost nine Everests.

“I feel great to have finished Colorado,” he said in a video posted Tuesday. He admitted the start was tough with jet lag and altitude, plus bad weather most days. But he found his rhythm, knocking off several peaks a day while cycling between them on his gravel bike -- no mechanized transport.

His ambitious States of Elevation challenge is to climb all 72 available 14,000-foot peaks in the contiguous United States within about one month. Chalking off the 56 in Colorado since beginning on September 3, he now has 12 in California and 2 in Washington remaining.

In the end, Jornet will cover about 965km of hiking and climbing, plus 3,862km of biking.

Hardest sections

His journey took in some hard routes, including the Elks Traverse, an 80 km stretch over seven rough peaks in three days. He also tackled Nolan’s 14, a 161km route across 14 Sawatch Range peaks, dodging wildfires and storms.

In the Sangre de Cristo mountains, he climbed snowy ridges alone. One day, he summited five 14,000’ers in 14 hours, biking 30km between them. Even his "easy" days were intense, like 160km of cycling to Pikes Peak, followed by a fast climb.

Local runners like Sage Canaday and Simi Hamilton have joined him for sections. iRunFar’s Bryon Powell ran with him on Handies Peak and saw him smiling after 11 hours and four summits. “He’s the same calm Kilian,” Powell said, “doing huge days like it’s no big deal.”

As Jornet recently posted on Instagram, he was on the move every day for about 16.5 hours, covering a marathon on foot, another 75-80km by bike, and 4,875m of vertical, for 16 days straight. Apart from the 78,004m of climbing, he has covered a horizontal route as long as Denver to San Francisco, but over mountainous terrain.

Next stop, Mount Whitney

”It feels great to have finished Colorado," Jornet said. "The mountains are stunning, and the wilderness is truly special. During the first two weeks, the weather was really tough, which added an extra layer of challenge.”

Now, he is biking to California to climb its 12 14,000-foot peaks, starting with Mount Whitney, the highest in the Lower 48 at 14,505 feet (4,421m). After that, he’ll head to Washington for Mount Rainier and Liberty Cap, aiming to finish by early October. His Instagram shows him pedaling across open land, with updates posted a day late for safety.

On Sept. 24, 1975, Doug Scott and Dougal Haston stood on the summit of Everest after the first complete ascent of the Southwest Face, a route that had defeated every previous expedition. Led by Chris Bonington, the team used meticulous planning, over 3,200m of fixed ropes, oxygen, and a large crew of climbers and Sherpas to achieve their goal.

Everest’s Southwest Face drew attention after Nepal opened to climbers in 1950.
The steep, 2,000m wall of rock, ice, and snow stretches from the Western Cwm and features the Rock Band at around 8,300m, a high barrier of fractured rock and thin snow. It demands advanced climbing skills in harsh weather with avalanche risk.

Attempts before 1975

Several teams tried to climb the Southwest Face before 1975 but failed because of the route's difficulty, brutal winds, and logistical issues.

A Japanese party led by Yoshihiro Fujita scouted the Face in the spring of 1969, reaching 6,500m. In the autumn of the same year, Hideki Miyashita led another reconnaissance expedition to around 8,000m, but the team didn’t intend to try for the summit, according to The Himalayan Database.

In the spring of 1970, Japanese leader Hiromi Ohtsuka and his large team reached 8,050m on the Southwest Face, but they finally summited via the normal South Col-Southeast Ridge route.

The 1971 spring International Everest Expedition, led by Norman Dyhrenfurth and O.M. Roberts, included climbers from multiple nations. They aimed to follow a similar route to the Japanese teams, left of the central gully. They reached 8,380m, but poor team cohesion, logistical issues, health problems, and bad weather eventually stopped them short.

In the spring of 1972, Karl. M. Herrligkoffer led a team that abandoned at 8,350m because of cold weather, low morale, and team dysfunction.

The first British attempt

In the autumn of 1972, Chris Bonington led a strong British party, including Doug Scott, Dougal Haston, and Mick Burke. They fixed ropes via the central gully, which was already a significant achievement. Brutal winds, cold, and poor supplies forced them to turn back at 8,230m, and Tony Tighe was killed in the Icefall by a falling serac.

However, this expedition laid the groundwork for their 1975 success, testing key sections of the Rock Band and learning which camp sites to use to avoid avalanches. For 1975, they planned a siege-style assault with a large team, tons of gear, and Sherpa support.

In the post-monsoon season of 1973, a Japanese expedition led by Michio Yuasa reached 8,380m but summited via the normal route.

The 1975 team

Bonington assembled a team of 18 climbers and approximately 60 Sherpas, plus other support staff. Most of the team had climbed together before 1975.

Bonington was already a Himalayan veteran. He started climbing in the Alps as a teen and led the 1970 Annapurna I South Face first ascent. A logistics master, he secured funding for the expedition from Barclays Bank and managed team dynamics.

Doug Scott was from Nottingham and began climbing at 12. A teacher by trade, he lived for the mountains. Dougal Haston, from Currie, Scotland, was a climbing star. He climbed hard alpine routes from a young age and summited Annapurna I in 1970. Mick Burke, a Manchester rock expert, filmed the ascent for the BBC. In 1970, Burke became the first Briton to climb the Nose of El Capitan. Nick Estcourt, a rock and ice specialist, was known for bold winter routes.

Pertemba Sherpa, a sirdar from Solukhumbu, led the other Sherpas carrying 40kg loads. Hamish MacInnes was the deputy leader, and the party also included Charles Clarke (doctor), a BBC crew, and logistic experts such as Mike Cheney and Adrian Gordon. The other members were Hamish MacInnes, Martin Boysen, Tut Braithwait, Arthur Chesterman, Jim Duff, Allen Fyffe, Brian Ned Kelly, Chris Ralling, Mike Rhodes, Ronnie Richards, Keith Richardson, Ian Stuart, and Mike Thompson, all from the UK. As well as Pertemba Sherpa, there were 30 more Sherpas and 26 Icefall porters.

The Sherpas included Mingma Nuru Sherpa, Ang Phurba Sherpa, Tenzing, Lhakpa, Nima, Psang Sherpas, and many others. Their role was very important for the team's logistics, and Pertemba would play a starring role in the expedition.

The expedition flew to Kathmandu in July 1975. However, the journey to Everest started badly. On August 23, during the trek to Base Camp, Mingma Nuru Sherpa tragically drowned in a river.

The ascent

The team set Base Camp on August 25, and crossed the crevassed Khumbu Icefall in a day. At 6,100m, they established Advanced Base Camp in the Western Cwm and set up Camp 1 near Advanced Base Camp. They further set Camp 2 at 6,500m and Camp 3 at 6,700m at the base of the face.

Scott and Burke began to climb the face on September 6, fixing 370m of rope to a buttress for Camp 4 at 7,200m. Camp 5, at 7,700m, sat right of the central gully. Bonington moved there on September 16, staying nine days.

"I had never believed in leading an expedition from Base Camp," he wrote in the American Alpine Journal.

Sherpas, led by Pertemba, hauled tons of gear up the mountain, including oxygen, tents, and food.

"The tremendous enthusiasm of the Sherpas who carried more, often heavier, loads...I had never thought possible," Bonington noted. The team fixed over 3,200m of rope, with winches aiding gear hauls.

Breaking the barrier

The Rock Band at around 8,300m was the crux of the climb where past expeditions had stalled. On September 20, Estcourt and Braithwaite, supported by Bonington and Burke, cracked it. From Camp 5, they crossed a great gully to the Rock Band’s left-hand cleft.

"Although we had obtained every photograph we possibly could, none had shown what happened inside the gully; this was one of the big gambles," recalled Bonington.

The gully was shadowed and cold, with winds around 40-60kph. A rock plastered with snow blocked the route. Braithwaite led, climbing a 60° to 70° edge with crampons and axes. He ran out of oxygen, but he kept going.

Estcourt took over above the chockstone, finding a ramp of steep snow at 8,230m. As Bonington noted, this was the key: "It was probably the hardest climbing ever attempted at that altitude."

The ramp had an overhanging wall pushing Estcourt off balance. Without oxygen in the thin air, he climbed a pitch he called one of the hardest he had ever led. Fixed ropes secured it, and Bonington and Burke followed, hauling 300m of rope.

The group fixed 800m of rope through the Rock Band to a snowfield above. This opened the path toward Camp 6, which was set up two days later at 8,320m on a snow arete. Ang Phurba Sherpa then hauled a box tent up.

The summit push

On September 22, Scott and Haston reached Camp 6. On September 23, they fixed ropes to 8,380m, battling strong winds. At dawn on September 24, they started up, using fixed ropes for speed. Haston led through rock bands and then a deep couloir.

"The snow was soft and deep, and [the couloir] looked much longer than we had expected," Haston explained.

Haston's oxygen failed near a rock step, and it took an hour to fix. Scott then led the step over 90 minutes, fixing a rope. The climbers waded through snow on a 60° slope, sinking to their knees. At 3 pm, they topped a cornice to the South Summit at 8,760m.

"We considered bivouacking," Scott wrote, citing loose snow and the late hour. Yet they eventually pushed on. The Hillary Step, masked in powder, was shoveled by Haston.

Finally, on September 24 at 6 pm, Scott and Haston summited Everest, finding a Chinese marker at the top. "The view was as much and more than any climber could expect," Haston said.

Darkness descends

Because they topped out late, it was soon dark. The two climbers were forced to bivouac at 8,750m. Without sleeping bags and low on oxygen, this was a dangerous situation.

"The cold had worried its way into our limbs," Scott wrote. They dug a snow cave and survived till dawn, when they descended to Camp 6.

The second push

Bonington planned three summit bids. On September 26, Martin Boysen, Pete Boardman, Mick Burke, and Pertemba Sherpa left Camp 6. The weather was not good, with strong winds and cirrus clouds that warned of changing conditions.

Halfway across the snowfield, Boysen turned back after suffering oxygen issues. Boardman and Pertemba reached the South Summit by 10:30 am. Soon after, Pertemba’s oxygen bottle iced up, and it took 90 minutes to fix. Finally, Boardman and Pertemba Sherpa summited at 1:10 pm, flying Nepal’s flag. Pertemba’s success was a Sherpa milestone on a technical route.

Tragedy

While descending, they met Burke below the summit. He was climbing solo. Boardman and Pertemba waited at the South Summit, but within half an hour, the weather dramatically deteriorated. In whiteout conditions, Boardman and Pertemba Sherpa waited an hour, then descended, barely finding the fixed ropes. "It was an agonizing decision," Bonington recalled.

Burke vanished. Bonington noted that he was certain that Burke reached the top. Nobody knows what happened to Burke, but a cornice fall to the Kangshung Face is likely.

Boardman and Pertemba made it down, but with frostbite and snowblindness, respectively.

The team could not search for Burke until September 27 because of the storm.

Aftermath

The team returned as heroes. It was the first British Everest summit, and they achieved it via the hardest route climbed at the time. The 1975 ascent was the pinnacle of siege-style expeditions. With 70 people and tons of gear, it showed what teamwork could achieve.

Bonington’s 1976 book Everest the Hard Way became a bestseller. The same year, Burke's footage was used in a documentary titled Everest the Hard Way.

The 1975 Bonington route was successfully repeated to the summit by a Slovak party in 1988, in alpine style. However, that expedition ended in tragedy, in a story we'll look at in depth in a future story.

You can watch Everest The Hard Way here:

On September 18, shortly before midnight, a car accident on the Route des Cretes in the Gorges du Verdon in the French Alps claimed the lives of accomplished French mountaineers Benjamin Guigonnet, 37, and Quentin Lombard, 34, according to France Bleu and Le Dauphine Libere.

Their vehicle veered off the narrow, winding, unlit road and plunged approximately 700m into a ravine, killing both instantly. The cause of the accident is still under investigation.

Benjamin Guigonnet received a 2018 Piolet d’Or with Helias Millerioux and Frederic Degoulet for their 2017 first ascent of the south face of 7,742m Nuptse Nup II in Nepal. Born in 1988, Guigonnet became a high-mountain guide in 2011 and was a trainer at the Ecole Nationale de Ski et d’Alpinisme (ENSA) in Chamonix.

His notable achievements include climbing the Cassin route on the Grandes Jorasses and mastering rock climbing routes up to 9a difficulty. Guigonnet was also a father of two and a technical advisor for Simond. For more on Guigonnet, the 2023 documentary Nuptse: L’Inaccessible Absolu chronicles his Himalayan expedition.

Quentin Lombard has been a high-mountain guide since 2017 and a national alpine ski instructor since 2014. He also worked at ENSA, focusing on mentoring aspiring mountaineers.

The 29 finalists in the 2025 Banff Mountain Book Competition have been unveiled. Now in its 50th year, the festival showcases books in eight categories, all centered on mountain culture and adventure. 

This year, the prescreening committee read 142 submitted works from authors in 11 countries in the following categories: Mountain Literature (non-fiction), Mountain Fiction and Poetry, Mountain Image, Guidebooks, Mountain Article, Environmental Literature, Adventure Travel, and Climbing Literature.

The winner of each category will win a $3,000 prize, and the overall Grand Prize winner will walk away with $5,000. Any book that includes climbing will also be judged in the Climbing Literature category.

The winner of each category will be announced on October 16.  One of them will then claim the Grand Prize on November 6 during the Festival itself. The 2025 Book Competition jury members are David Chambre (France), Paul Scully (UK), and Kate Neville (Canada).

View this post on Instagram

See this post on Instagram

Among the nonfiction selections is Vineeta Muni's Across the Himalaya, a deeply personal recollection of Muni’s 4,500km journey across the Himalaya with seven other Indian women in 1997, led by Bachendri Pal. Mike Bell’s 5.7 Haikus for the Climber is one of three finalists in the Mountain Fiction and Poetry category. It contains 350 haikus about everything climbing and outdoors. 

In Adventure Travel, Jeremy Collins’s Eventually a Sequoia is part travel, part sketch book. It contains many stories from the people he has met while traveling through some of the most remote and endangered areas on Earth.

Meanwhile, the Mountain Image finalists include Patagonia National Park: Chile, created by Kristine McDivitt Tompkins, Michelle Bachelet, and Yvon Chouinard -- a visual tribute to one of the world’s great conservation success stories.

A Woman Among Wolves by Diane K. Boyd, in the Environmental Literature category, tells the story of her pioneering work studying wolves in Montana. At the time, she was the only female biologist in the U.S. studying wild wolves. 

In the Guidebook category, New Horizons by Will Herman details some of the most stunning running routes across the Scottish Highlands. 

All of this year’s finalists are listed below (in alphabetical order within their categories).

Mountain Literature (non-fiction) – The Jon Whyte Award

Sponsored by The Whyte Museum of the Canadian Rockies

Across the Himalaya - Vineeta Muni, Neemtree Tech Labs Pvt Ltd (India, 2025)

Enough: Climbing Toward a True Self on Mount Everest - Melissa Arnot Reid, The Crown Publishing Group (U.S., 2025)

Human Nature: A Walking History of the Himalayan Landscape - Thomas Bell, Penguin Random House India (India, 2024)

Moving the Needle - Dave MacLeod, Rare Breed Productions (UK, 2024)

Thirty Below: The Harrowing and Heroic Story of the First All-Women's Ascent of Denali - Cassidy Randall, Abrams (U.S., 2025)

Mountain Fiction & Poetry

Sponsored by the Town of Banff

5.7 | Haikus for the Climber - Mike Brown, Boreal Forest Books (Canada, 2024)

An Abundance of Wild Roses - Feryal Ali-Gauhar, Canongate (UK, 2024)

The Empty Rope - Dunstan Power, Black Pear Press Limited (UK, 2024)

Environmental Literature

Sponsored by Rab

A Woman Among Wolves - Diane K. Boyd, Greystone Books (Canada, 2024)

Is a River Alive? - Robert Macfarlane, W. W. Norton & Company (U.S., 2025)

Latitudes: Encounters with a Changing Planet - Jean McNeil, Barbican Press (UK, 2025)

The Wild Dark: Finding the Night Sky in the Age of Light - Craig Childs, Torrey House Press (U.S., 2025)

Travels Up the Creek: A Biologist's Search for a Paddle - Lorne Fitch, Rocky Mountain Books (Canada, 2024)

Adventure Travel

Sponsored by Rocky Mountain Books

Eventually a Sequoia - Jeremy Collins, Mountaineers Books (U.S., 2025)

Into the Thaw: Witnessing Wonder Amid the Arctic Climate Crisis - Jon Waterman, Patagonia Books (U.S., 2024)

Realm of Ice and Sky: Triumph, Tragedy, and History's Greatest Arctic Rescue - Buddy Levy, St. Martin's Press (U.S., 2025)

River Songs: Moments of Wild Wonder in Fly Fishing - Steve Duda, Mountaineers Books (U.S., 2024)

Mountain Image

Sponsored by Mountain Life

All Humans Outside: Stories of Belonging in Nature - Tommy Corey, Mountaineers Books (U.S., 2025)

Eden: A Portrait of Mountain Biking in Aotearoa New Zealand - Nick Stevenson, Thames & Hudson Australia (Aotearoa New Zealand, 2025)

Patagonia National Park: Chile - Kristine McDivitt Tompkins, Michelle Bachelet & Yvon Chouinard, Patagonia Books (U.S., 2024)

Guidebooks

Sponsored by the Association of Canadian Mountain Guides

Boulder Canyon Rock Climbs - Topher Donahue, Wolverine Publishing (U.S., 2024)

Northern Horizons - Will Herman, Scottish Mountaineering Press (UK, 2025)

Soča from Source to Sea - Paddling Guidebook - Rok Rozman, Leeway Collective (Slovenia, 2024)

Southern Faces: An Introduction to Rock Climbing in Ōtepoti Dunedin - Riley Smith, WildLab (New Zealand, 2025)

Mountain Article

Sponsored by The Lodge at Bow Lake

Behind the Curtain - Corey Buhay, Summit Journal (U.S., 2025)

Fleet-Winged Ghosts of Greenland - Carolien Van Hemert, Hakai Magazine/BioGraphic (U.S., 2024)

In the Shadow of the Mountain - Natalie Berry, The Fence (UK, 2024)

Something Lost Behind the Ranges - Michael Wejchert, Summit Journal (U.S., 2025)

Writing Like a Mountain: Climbing Literature in the Anthropocene - Katie Ives, The Himalayan Club (India, 2025)

Virtually alone in the Karakoram, a Russian team is ready to face Baintha Brakk (7,285m), the peak known as the Ogre. However, the team will have to rely on two climbers and head up a different side than they had planned.

Earlier this week, Alexander Parfenov, Alexey Sukharev, Ratmir Mukhametzyanov, Alexander (Sasha) Ryndyk, and drone operator Farit Nalimov reached Baintha Brakk base camp in the central Karakoram.

Upon arrival, they confirmed their goal was the unclimbed north face, the most difficult and exposed side of the mountain. However, things didn't go quite as planned.

Cold and wet

Still remarkable

Despite the route change, the goal remains formidable. The Ogre is one of the most difficult peaks in the Karakoram because of its combination of altitude, verticality, technical difficulty on all sides (which combine granite rock and ice-snow sections on the upper part), and exposure.

The peak is an impressive granite tower erupting from three groups of jagged Karakoram peaks: the Latoks, the Ogres, and the Biacherahi Towers. The north face of the Ogre is accessible from the Choktoi Glacier.

View this post on Instagram

See this post on Instagram

The main peak of the Ogre has been summited only three times. Doug Scott and Chris Bonington of the UK made the first ascent in 1977, in an epic climb and even more epic descent: a week-long struggle in a storm with Bonington injured. In 2001, Thomas Huber, Urs Stocker, and Iwan Wolf achieved the second ascent, climbing via the south pillar. Americans Kyle Dempster and Hayden Kennedy made the third ascent, via the south face, in 2012. Many highly skilled climbers have challenged the Ogre and failed.

The Russian climbers now attempting the face are no newbies. In 2022, Parfenov,  Sukharev, and Mukhametzyanov won the Russian version of the Piolet d’Or for their new route on Military Topographers Peak (6,873m) in the central Tien Shan.

Canadian athlete Adam Mertens has completed a unique alpine traverse in Bow Valley in the Canadian Rockies, combining trail running, roped climbing, free solo climbing, scrambling, and even paddleboarding.

Mertens took 70 hours and 20 minutes to complete the 146.53km loop he has dubbed the Bow Valley Cirque. The route includes a huge 11,181m of elevation gain.

Last year, Mertens attempted the Bow Valley Cirque on the same weekend, but didn't manage to close the full loop, finishing 20km and several peaks shy of his target. "We set these dates in May, basically the exact same weekend as last year, with the hope that we would get a weather window to do it," Mertens explained to ExplorersWeb.

"All summer has been super rainy. I don't think we've had three straight days of sunshine until the last two weeks, where it's been 30°C and so hot that I was a little bit worried it was going to be an issue. But we had spectacular weather on that first morning."

Day one: Cascade and Rundle traverse

This time around, the 32-year-old Bow Valley resident started his mammoth effort at 2 am on August 30 at Johnson Lake in Banff National Park. Running alone in the dark, he headed north to 2,998m Cascade Mountain, where he joined a friend. Together, they summited six-and-a-half hours later, having taken a technical route that included 5.10 roped climbing as well as some simul climbing.

"We were able to complete that first section an hour faster than last year. We did a little bit more simul climbing, just by knowing the route better and traveling lighter. So it went super smoothly," Mertens explained.

From Cascade, Mertens descended into Banff and made his way (with a friend in support) to the next big target, the Rundle traverse. This nearly 25km traverse takes in around 2,500m of elevation gain, includes class 4-5 scrambling with some rappel sections, and requires climbing skills beyond typical trail running.

"I came into Banff feeling really good, really strong. We got to the ridge of Rundle, where we climbed the Rundlehorn. It's a really classic introductory multi-pitch route that goes at 5.5, so we soloed that."

By 6 pm, Mertens was on the 2,948m summit of Mount Rundle and charged on into the evening, completing the majority of the traverse alone. At this point, he was around four hours ahead of last year's marker. He descended off the east end of Rundle to a break in the chain of mountains that envelop the loop, and slept for three hours at Whiteman's Pond.

Day two: Ha Ling, Big Sister, Wind Ridge, and Grotto

As refreshed as possible after only three hours' sleep, Mertens headed off into the darkness at 4 am. He was bound for Ha Ling, a 2,407m peak scooped out of the limestone bedrock. Mertens again teamed up with a friend to climb the technical northeast face.

"We simul climbed the majority of the route, pitching out the cracks. It's a route that I've probably done a dozen times. It's certainly real rock climbing, and I wouldn't consider being on there solo, but lots and lots of bolts too, which makes it easy to protect and simul climb," Mertens explained.

Mertens was on the summit of Ha Ling by 7 am. Next, he moved on to Mount Lawrence Grassi and then the three peaks known as the Three Sisters, reaching the most prominent of Big Sister at 12:30 pm.

"The next section is one of the most miserable, up and over the Big Sister, and then down to Wind Ridge. It's got some exposed scrambling up the north side of the Big Sister, and some incredibly exposed down climbing," Mertens reflected.

The terrain didn't ease up on the next section, known as Rim Wall. "I think it's on the map as Rim Wall W2, it's like a sub-peak of the Rim Wall. And it's probably the part of the whole circuit, to my knowledge, that is the most intimidating. It's exposed."

Mertens completed that exposed section solo, including a difficult section of down climbing. "I hope to never have to do it again. I was able to scurry over to Wind Ridge and meet people, and from there, it's one of the most spectacular trail runs in the Bow Valley, running down off Wind Ridge. Pink Floyd filmed the video for learning to fly on this ridge," Mertens said.

He picked up a support crew to reach the summit of Wind Ridge by 3:30 pm. "It was really sweet to get to high-five a bunch of different friends and see familiar faces."

The fact that Mertens was deep in alpine terrain, yet in view of his hometown and everyday life throughout the loop, was not lost on him: "While I'm dancing around on ridge tops for three days, other people are navigating long weekend traffic in the valley, and I'm just oblivious to it."

A little behind his projected time now, Mertens hared down Wind Ridge, hitting the valley floor to pick up a paddleboard for the Bow Valley River before heading for the next peak, Grotto, named after a grotto-like cave that contains ancient pictographs.

Joined by another friend, Mertens headed up the east ridge of Grotto, hiking, scrambling, and rope climbing to reach the summit an hour before midnight.

"I had a moment there feeling I had overblown the difficulty of this thing, because everything had, to that point, felt easy. My body felt good. I was having back-to-back long days with my friends in the mountains," Mertens said.

By 12:40 am on day two, Mertens was down from Grotto and catching another measly three hours of sleep. This would later prove invaluable. "I wasn't suffering like I felt I should be for how much I had hyped the overall mission. That was coming, but I didn't know that at the time."

Mertens felt fitter than last year's attempt after a summer of groundwork in the alpine, so he was in good shape for another early start at 5:20 am. He pushed up to the summit of Mount Lady Macdonald (2,606m) in a little under two hours.

"We got to the summit ridge of Lady MacDonald, which is quite iconic. It's a knife-edge ridge but within the realm of scrambling. A lot of people experience that [route], but to experience it at sunrise with nobody else on the mountain except for some of your closest friends, was pretty special."

He dispatched Mount Charles Stewart peak without issue by 10:30 am, and was down at Carrot Creek on the valley floor not long after midday. "The pack was a little bit lighter, so we could move kind of unencumbered through that last section down to Carrot Creek," said Mertens.

This was where Mertens stopped a year ago, and here he stood twelve months later with the opportunity to close the loop. Only a few more peaks and a little over twelve hours of travel stood in his way. Most of this section was unknown to him because of wildlife restrictions.

The temperature climbed to 28°C as Mertens tackled Mount Pechee, Girouard, and Inglismaldie. Once again with a friend in support, Mertens skirted the chossy true summit of Pechee, which requires an out-and-back hike, and would break up the continuous line of the loop.

Too much risk?

The connecting ridge to Mount Girourard (2,995m) was a "technical, beautiful ridge," leading to scree on the approach to the summit. On descent, Mertens anticipated hard scrambling, but instead he and his teammate were forced to rappel before edging across an unexpectedly exposed ledge above a 1,500m drop.

"It was the point on this whole traverse where I really questioned whether it was worth it. It felt like I had put myself and my partner in a position that was beyond the level of risk that I wanted to take on," Mertens reflected. "I was able to belay my partner across, and we immediately got hit with [the threat of] lightning, and our heads started buzzing...everything started to buzz."

Unscathed, Mertens pressed on and reached the final summit on the loop -- Inglismaldie -- at 9 pm. Next, he descended to Johnson Lake and closed the loop at 12:15 am on September 2. After 70 hours, Mertens was done, his "perfect backyard adventure" complete.

"It had the makings of a really good goal, where the outcome was not guaranteed, where you knew there was going to be compounding fatigue and moments of wanting to quit, and that's only exacerbated by the fact that you're in view of your house and the comforts that you have. So it presents a challenge that I think is really unique."

Mertens’ Bow Valley Cirque pushes the boundaries of what’s possible in the Canadian Rockies -- an ambitious linkup blending endurance, technical skill, and risk management. For him, the reward wasn’t just in the finish, but in testing the edge of possibility in the mountains he calls home.

Pobeda Peak (7,439m), also known as Jengish Chokusu or Victory Peak, is the highest mountain in the Tien Shan range. Located on the Kyrgyzstan-China border, it is the northernmost and coldest 7,000’er. Its climbing history is peppered with significant achievements but also major tragedies.

Though a popular climb, Pobeda is the most difficult of the five Snow Leopard peaks (the five mountains in the former Soviet Union above 7,000m). Pobeda’s climbing routes are very long, with huge chunks above 7,000m, making rescues almost impossible. We recount some of the mountain's tragic climbs.

The 1938 attempt

A Soviet team led by August Letavet and featuring Leonid Gutman, Evgeny Ivanov, and Aleksandr Sidorenko made the first recorded attempt on Pobeda. In September 1938, to commemorate the 20th anniversary of the Komsomol (the Communist Youth Movement), they climbed from the Zvyozdochka Glacier on the northern side.

On September 19, they ascended the Kokshaltau Ridge, close to the eastern shoulder of Pobeda, and measured their highest point at 6,930m. They were 500m too low, and still between three and five kilometers from Pobeda's true summit.

"This is the top of the wall. Altitude 6,930m above sea level. To the southeast, fading, go mountain chains...Everything is closed, only one unknown peak with a sharp knife, breaking through the thick of the clouds, sticks out over this troubled sea. Apparently, this is a very high peak," the team wrote in their report.

The 1943 survey

In 1943, a Soviet geographical expedition accurately measured Pobeda’s height at 7,439m, confirming it as the highest point in the Tien Shan, surpassing 7,010m Khan Tengri. The team renamed it Pik Pobedy (Victory Peak) to honor the Soviet victory at Stalingrad in World War II. Tomur, meaning iron in Uyghur, was recognized as the peak's name on the Chinese side.

The survey established Pobeda as a major mountaineering objective.

The first confirmed ascent

A Soviet team led by renowned mountaineer Vitaly Abalakov made the first verified ascent of Pobeda on Aug. 29, 1956. The team of 11 climbers approached via the northern ridge (now called the Abalakov Route, Russian grade 5B). They placed a summit cairn slightly below the highest point on the eastern part of the summit ridge because of snowy conditions.

But before this first ascent, Pobeda had already seen a mountaineering tragedy.

An early tragedy

In 1955, a Kazakh expedition of 12 climbers attempted Pobeda via the northern ridge. At 6,900m, 11 members perished in a violent snowstorm, marking one of the deadliest incidents in Pobeda’s history. Ural Usenov was the sole survivor. One year later, he was among the climbers who made the first ascent.

1959: Death during descent

In 1959, a team from Uzbekistan led by Vitaliy Ratzek attempted Pobeda. The team employed a strategy where less experienced climbers delivered supplies to higher camps before descending. At a camp at 7,100m, the supporting group became exhausted and was unable to descend independently. The stronger climbers, instead of summiting, attempted to assist their teammates. Three climbers -- whose full names are not fully documented in available sources but are referred to as V. Kiselev, A. Gontsov, and I. Bogachev -- died of exhaustion during the descent.

A rescue team of Kazakh and Georgian mountaineers mobilized, but the remote location, severe weather, and high altitude prevented timely intervention. The bodies could not be recovered.

The 1961 Georgian expedition tragedy

Vazha Pshavela Peak (6,918m) is a subsidiary summit on the western part of the Pobeda massif. It lies along the western ridge, one of the primary routes to access Pobeda’s main summit. Climbers ascending or descending via this route often traverse or pass near Vazha Pshavela Peak, especially when approaching from the South Inylchek Glacier.

In 1961, a Georgian party attempted a traverse of Pobeda’s western ridge to the summit. On August 23, they reached the western shoulder at 6,918m and named it Vazha Pshavela Peak. On August 26, the team summited Pobeda, but the descent was catastrophic.

After summiting, the team faced deteriorating weather. Darkness forced climbers Ilia Gabliani, David Medzmariashvili, and Konstantin Kuzmin to bivouac in subzero conditions without adequate shelter.

Ilia Gabliani died during their descent, likely from exhaustion or exposure. While rappelling from Vazha Pshavela Peak, Teimuraz Kuhianidze fell with the rope and died. David Medzmariashvili, attempting to traverse the slope to search for Kuhianidze, also fell to his death. Konstantin Kuzmin, alone and without belay, reached Dikiy Pass, where rescuers observed him through binoculars and provided aid.

A 1966 expedition attempted to recover Gabliani’s body but only reached Vazha Pshavela Peak, unable to locate or retrieve the corpse in hazardous conditions. The bodies of Ilia Gabliani, Teimuraz Kuhianidze, and David Medzmariashvili remain unrecovered.

Almost as many deaths as summits

By 1969, Pobeda’s death toll was nearly equal to the number of successful summits. However, that year, an Uzbek team led by V.A. Elchibekov successfully climbed the northern ridge, emphasizing improved camp placement (for example, Camp 4 at 6,600m) and better equipment to survive the harsh conditions. This expedition marked a shift, as most subsequent teams avoided major tragedies.

Recent tragedies

However, recent events demonstrate that Pobeda remains one of the most dangerous peaks in the world.

In August 2021, three separate incidents occurred, resulting in the deaths of Mehri Jafari, Reza Adineh, and Valentin Mikhailov.

British-Iranian climber Mehri Jafari initially planned a solo climb as part of an uncompleted project that included Lenin Peak. However, after an unsuccessful solo trek from base camp to camp 1 (4,500m), she joined a group of Iranian climbers for the summit attempt. During the ascent, Jafari struggled to keep pace with the group, likely due to an arm injury and insufficient acclimatization.

On August 4, while descending alone from around 6,300m, Jafari took the wrong ridge, slipped, and fell toward the Diky Glacier. Hungarian climbers Albert Kovacs and Peter Vitez, who were 50–100m away, witnessed the fall.

A volunteer rescue team, including Alexander Stone, Albert Kovacs, and Peter Vitez, searched near Camp 3 and Camp 4 (6,400m), but recent icefalls and avalanches hindered their efforts. Jafari’s body was never found, likely buried under snow or ice.

Iranian climber Reza Adineh was part of a team with Mohammad Mirzaie, Mohammad Babazaden Anari, and Mohammad Nikbakht. Between Camps 4 (6,400m) and 5 (6,900m), Adineh, struggling to keep pace, disappeared. Drone searches failed to locate him.

In the same season, Russian climber Valentin Mikhailov died during a rescue attempt on the Abalakov Route. A group led by Nikolay Totmyanin summited but fell into a crevasse at around 6,900m during a traverse. Mikhailov, part of a Moscow-St. Petersburg rescue team, attempted to assist them. However, a ledge collapsed under him, likely weakened by prior stress from Totmyanin’s group, and he fell to his death. Rescuers could not recover his body because of unstable terrain, harsh weather, and avalanches.

Search operations ended by August 12, with authorities unable to retrieve the bodies of Mehri Jafari, Reza Adineh, or Valentin Mikhailov.

More deaths in 2023

In the summer of 2023, well-known Russian alpinist Dimitry Pavlenko, his wife Svetlana, and two clients went missing on the Abalakov Route. They didn't summit, but reached 7,300m. Their tracker showed that they descended to 7,200m. However, at that point, one of the climbers' trackers dropped suddenly to 6,580m. An avalanche may have swept them away.

Summer 2025

On August 12, 47-year-old Russian climber Natalia Nagovitsyna, pursuing the Snow Leopard award (the five 7,000m peaks of the former Soviet Union), fell at the Black Rock section at around 7,150m while descending from the summit.

Nagovitsyna fractured her leg and was unable to move. Her climbing partner, Roman Mokrynsky, secured her in a tent with minimal supplies and then descended to South Inylchek Base Camp to seek urgent help.

On August 13, Italian Luca Sinigaglia and German Gunther Siegmund reached Nagovitsyna, delivering a sleeping bag, stove, and gas canister, but the exhausted climbers could not take her down. Sinigaglia and Siegmund spent the night in extreme conditions at 7,150m before descending. At approximately 6,900m, Sinigaglia collapsed in an ice cave, and he died on August 16, likely from cerebral edema and hypothermia. Also on August 16, a Russian helicopter crashed at 4,600m because of turbulence, and foot rescue teams only made it to 6,400m.

A drone confirmed Nagovitsyna was alive on August 19, but high winds and snow halted rescue efforts.

By August 25, the rescue was abandoned, and on August 27, a military drone with thermal imaging showed no signs of life in Nagovitsyna's tent. Experts, including Alexander Yakovenko, deemed the situation hopeless because of the 3km ridge and extreme conditions.

A climber has never been rescued from such high altitude on Pobeda, and Russian experts estimated it would require a 30-strong team for any chance of success. The four-man rescue party that was available finally turned around from below 6,500m in bad weather. They were fortunate to return alive.

Nagovitsyna's 2024 attempt

According to Russian sources, Nagovitsyna had attempted Pobeda in 2024, but her guide told her to descend because she was not prepared for the ascent. She only had Pobeda left to complete the Snow Leopard challenge. Nagovitsyna’s husband, Sergey, died on Khan Tengri in 2021.

A hidden double fracture?

Russian media have suggested that Nagovitsyna may have hidden a double leg fracture sustained just two months before her 2025 Pobeda climb. Mountaineer Alexander Ischenko told Russian news site MSK1.Ru that Nagovitsyna suffered a double leg fracture from rockfall in May 2025 during a climb on 4,479m Teke-Tor in Kyrgyzstan’s Ala-Archa region. Ischenko says Nagovitsyna was evacuated by helicopter. Despite this severe injury, she joined the Pobeda expedition in August.

Ishchenko suggested that Natalia likely concealed the injury from her guides and expedition organizers to gain approval for the climb. "No responsible guide would allow someone with a double fracture from two months ago to attempt such a climb," Ishchenko stated.

Ishchenko's claim is echoed by Alexander Pyatnitsyn, Vice President of the Russian Mountaineering Federation, who told the TASS news agency that three guides had previously denied Natalia permission to climb because of inadequate preparation, yet she proceeded with an independent team. Meanwhile, Russian media outlet SHOT reported that Natalia’s second-class mountaineering rank fell short of the third-class rank required for Pobeda.

Other fatalities on Pobeda this month

Legendary Russian climber Nikolay Totmyanin died on August 11 at the age of 66. He fell ill while descending from Pobeda. He descended under his own power, but later died in hospital.

On August 12, Iranian climbers Maryam Pilehvari and Hassan Mashhadiaghalou -- climbing independently without notifying their federation or South Inylchek Base Camp -- perished after descending from Pobeda’s summit. The exact circumstances are unclear, but they could have succumbed to exhaustion, altitude sickness, or an accident. Drone searches failed to locate their bodies because of poor visibility, and no rescue attempts were successful. Their bodies remain unrecovered.

Long routes

The climbing route on Pobeda via the classic west ridge route is approximately 27km from South Inylchek Base Camp (4,000m) to the summit (7,439 m). This includes 15km to Camp 1 and a 12km summit ridge. Other routes, like the Abalakov, likely have similar lengths because of the shared summit ridge, though measurements for approaches vary. This lengthy summit ridge, combined with Pobeda’s massif structure, adds complexity to rescue operations. Injured climbers who cannot descend from above 6,800m by themselves have very low survival chances.

Around 80 climbers have died on Pobeda.

Ulugh Muztagh (6,973m) is an extremely remote peak on the northern Quinghai-Tibetan Plateau in Western China. It remained a mystery for nearly a century before a team of American and Chinese climbers climbed it in 1985. Called the Great Icy Mountain in the Turkic language, it sits in a high desert where few people go.

After his 1895 journey, English explorer George Littledale guessed Ulugh Muztagh was over 7,723m, making it one of the world’s highest peaks. The 1985 expedition climbed it and measured its true height.

Shipton’s idea

The idea to climb Ulugh Muztagh started in 1966. Robert H. Bates was stuck in a tent with Eric Shipton during a storm on Mount Russell in Alaska. Bates asked Shipton what he’d do differently if he could start over.

Shipton, who’d spent years on Everest, said: "I wouldn’t spend six years trying to climb Mount Everest. That’s too long for any mountain." Instead, he said he'd go for Ulugh Muztagh, a peak in Central Asia. He described it as "a big mountain — nobody knows how high — reached in the 1890s by an Englishman."

He described it as harder to get to than Antarctica, surrounded by high, empty land with no people nearby. Shipton and his friend Bill Tilman had wanted to climb it, but political restrictions and logistical difficulties had deterred them.

Bates, who’d climbed big mountains like K2, loved the idea. In 1973, Bates teamed up with Nick Clinch, another climber who’d heard Shipton’s stories. They decided to find the mountain, measure it, and climb it.

Previous journeys to Ulugh Muztagh: The Littledales

In 1896, British explorer George R. Littledale and his wife Teresa described Ulugh Muztagh as towering and glacier-covered, and suggested that it could be as high as Everest. The Littledales made three major journeys between 1890 and 1895. During their first trip, they crossed the Pamirs. On the second, they crossed Central Asia from Samarkand to Peking, and the third journey -- which took 12 months -- traversed Tibet.

In 1895, the couple passed Ulugh Muztagh while attempting to reach Lhasa, and they estimated the mountain's height. Their estimate was unverified and based on visual observation, but it contributed to the mountain’s mystique.

A base of magma

Formed by the ancient collision of continents that uplifted the Himalaya and Kunlun ranges, Ulugh Muztagh’s base is reinforced by hardened magma, distinguishing it from the eroded surrounding landscape. This unique geology led scientists to speculate that Ulugh Muztagh could be a volcano. The 1985 expedition realized that it was not a volcano, but it does have a base strengthened by ancient magma intrusions.

Getting a permit

Bates and Clinch spent several years trying to get to Ulugh Muztagh. The mountain was in a part of China that had been closed to foreigners since the 1950s. They asked for permission many times, even suggesting a joint expedition with China and Pakistan, but got nowhere.

In 1979, Bates went to Beijing to ask in person, but was told the area wasn’t open. They kept trying until January 1985, when another group got permission. A determined Clinch flew to Beijing immediately, and -- after two more trips -- received approval for a joint American-Chinese expedition on May 30, 1985.

'A geriatric expedition, but a damn good one'

Clinch put together a team of eight Americans, calling it "a geriatric expedition, but a damn good one." Robert H. Bates, 74, would survey and measure the mountain. Nick Clinch was the organizer and had led the first climb of Hidden Peak in 1958. Pete Schoening was in charge of gear and was well known for saving six climbers on K2 in 1953. Tom Hornbein, the team’s doctor and climbing leader, was famous for climbing Everest’s West Ridge in 1963. Hornbein planned the route and organized supplies during the expedition. Jeff Foott and Dennis Hennek were strong climbers who would carry heavy loads and remain ready for the summit. Geologists Peter Molnar and Clark Burchfiel joined to conduct a scientific study of the mountain.

The Chinese team featured 16 climbers and 27 support staff, including climbers Hu Feng Ling, Zhang Baohua, Ardaxi, Mamuti, and Wu Qiangxing. Leaders Wang Zheng Hua and Lu Ming ran logistics, and interpreter Guo helped with communication.

This was the first American-Chinese climbing expedition, and the first time foreigners were allowed in southern Xinjiang in 30 years.

A long trip

On Sept. 11, 1985, the Americans flew from San Francisco to Beijing with 87 bags of gear, including survey tools like a Doppler satellite surveyor, a Uniranger, and a Kern T-2 theodolite.

The 1,100km trip to the mountain took 10 days. Seven army trucks, three Land Rovers, and two jeeps crossed deserts and mountains. They stopped in Korla, a city of 120,000 with hospitals and factories, and Ro-jeng, where Marco Polo had once passed through. They crossed the Altyn Tagh Range and reached an asbestos mine, the last stop before the desert. They saw yaks, bears, antelope, and wolves near Acchikul Lake.

On October 2, after a tough drive up a canyon, they set up Base Camp at 5,300m on the mountain’s east side. They immediately encountered a problem: the satellite surveyor’s antenna was missing. A Chinese Mountaineering Association jeep team had to rush a new one to them.

The survey

The plan was to train and acclimatize at base camp, but Wang Zheng Hua wanted to start climbing. The Chinese climbers who’d tried the peak in 1984 picked the route. They set up Camp 1 at a glacier’s edge, and soon they were carrying supplies to Camp 2, approximately 10km up the glacier.

Bates stayed at base camp to run the survey because he could no longer carry heavy loads. Molnar and Burchfiel, used to high altitudes, carried gear with Foott, Hennek, and Hornbein. Schoening and Clinch got sick, slowing them down. Hornbein planned routes and made sure food and gear were in the right spots.

The survey went on despite strong winds. They set up a 10,460m baseline in the desert and used the satellite surveyor to catch signals. Later, Molnar calculated the peak’s height as 6,987m, "with an estimated possible error of 6 to 10 meters." The altitude was significantly less than Littledale’s guess, but still a major challenge.

The first ascent

Ulugh Muztagh was a tough climb. Its glaciers had hidden crevasses, and loose snow could slide. Steep ice walls and bad weather only made it harder.

By mid-October, snowstorms hit. Camp 2 was buried, and the avalanche risk was high. On October 13, Schoening, Hornbein, and Burchfiel put in ice screws for Camp 3, but wind and snow soon stopped them. Clinch, who had a bad cold, went back to base camp.

Schoening and Hornbein reached 6,200m to store supplies, and a mix-up about who would lead the Chinese to the summit led Foott and Hennek to come down. On October 20, good weather allowed the Chinese climbers at Camp 3 to move to Camp 4, close to the summit.

On October 21, five Chinese climbers — Hu Feng Ling, Zhang Baohua, Ardaxi, Mamuti, and Wu Qiangxing — reached the summit at 7:28 pm. The team at base camp celebrated, but joy turned to worry as it got dark. The summit climbers took a different way down and ran into trouble.

The descent

During the descent, Hu and another climber fell more than 500m. The next morning, Schoening’s team spotted them, one climber lying still and the other trying to help. They gave up their summit climb to attempt a rescue.

Clinch, coming from Camp 2, also helped. Hu had frozen feet and bruises, and his friend was also hurt. Hornbein and Hennek took care of them at Camp 2. Guo, the interpreter, was touched and said, "Americans must be the kindest people in the world."

In the end, there was no time for another summit try, and on October 23, everyone left the mountain.

Carrying Hu was slow and painful, and they didn’t reach base camp until October 24. The team packed up and drove back, cold and low on food. In Ro-jeng, they were greeted with dancing girls, and in Korla, thousands cheered their return with firecrackers and flowers. In Urumchi, a big dinner in the Great Hall of the People included a roast sheep to show friendship.

Ulugh Muztagh was not as tall as hoped, but this was an important climb, showing how people from different countries could work together, even when things got tough. For Bates and Clinch, the climb was for Shipton, who loved unknown peaks. They toasted him, happy to have reached his dream mountain.

Ulugh Muztagh remains one of the world’s most remote and rarely climbed peaks, with only a handful of documented ascents since 1985.

We recommend Peter Molnar’s report in the Alpine Journal: Ulugh Muztagh: The Highest Peak on the Northern Tibetan Plateau.

A pair of Japanese data scientists have published a paper exploring whether artificial intelligence (AI) can predict mountaineering accidents.

The paper's senior author, Dr. Yusuke Fukazawa, claims that their model gives climbers "a better understanding of the risks associated with their planned actions, enabling safer decision-making and preparation."

Fukazawa adds that by tailoring risk assessments to each climber’s unique situation, "our model offers personalized safety recommendations...instead of the traditional, one-size-fits-all warnings.” The paper appeared in the International Journal of Data Science and Analytics.

To the casual reader and mountain enthusiast, these snippets from the press release will mean very little, so we've dug deeper into the paper to give you a clearer perspective.

What did they do?

Authors Sato and Fukazawa argue that most previous research has relied on surveys and accident data to explain why a mountain incident happened. These used details like the climber’s personal characteristics, the equipment they carried, and the terrain where the accident took place.

Instead, these authors focused on predicting the type of accident a climber or hiker might face using only the information available before a trip.

They considered four categories of accidents: falls from a height, falls on flat or gentle slopes, fatigue-related incidents, and cases of becoming lost or disoriented.

Using records from 2,596 mountain accidents in Nagano Prefecture, Japan, between 2014 and 2023, they extracted data such as the date, season, time of day of each incident, weather, the hiker/climber’s demographic information (sex, age group, party size). They matched this up with information about the mountains sourced from Wikipedia pages, including terms like “ridgeline,” “snow,” and “famous peak.”

Sato and Fukazawa then converted these details into short, structured sentences. For example: "December 15, 2019, winter, around noon at 11:00, weather: clear. Male, middle-aged, 40s, party of 4. Northern Alps, Mt. Nishihotaka, features ridges and ridgelines."

A range of particular AI methods were then used to see which could most accurately predict the type of accident from this "planning-stage" text data.

What were the findings?

The best results came from the Japanese BERT model (a type of AI language model), which correctly estimated the type of accident in about 57% of the accident cases. The model was also able to highlight which words were most linked to each type of accident. For example:

• Falls from height: “morning,” “Hotaka” (a steep peak)
• Ground-level falls: “noon,” “Yatsugatake range”
• Fatigue: “late afternoon/evening,” “older”
• Disorientation: “snow,” “fog,” “night,” “solo”

The analysis comes with some real-world caveats, though. The model was fed actual weather conditions from the accident reports, information a climber or hiker wouldn’t know before heading out, so its performance could differ when using forecasts.

Some mountain descriptions pulled from Wikipedia (which weren't presented in the paper) could have included phrases like “steep and dangerous ridge,” which might have given the model clues too close to the actual accident outcome.

The data set also covered only accidents, not the countless safe days out in the mountains, so it can’t tell whether a factor truly raises risk or just reflects where people like to go.

In addition, the model was also never challenged with different time periods or mountain regions.

What's the take-home message?

Put simply, the study suggests that with the right planning details, such as the date, route, group size, weather forecast, and basic information on the mountain, an AI model can identify patterns linked to different types of mountain accidents.

The premise becomes less abstract when you imagine it embedded in a hiking app. Sato and Fukazawa propose that if the AI model detected a high risk for a specific type of accident, the app could respond with tailored advice, such as checking gear, adjusting the route, or rethinking the timing.

In practice, such a system could run quietly in the background, analyzing a hiker's plans alongside forecasts and trail data, then flagging risks for situations like disorientation on a solo hike in poor weather, or fatigue on a long afternoon ridge walk in the heat. Timely prompts delivered via an app could encourage hikers and climbers to start earlier, pick an easier route, or carry extra food or gear.

While experienced mountain goers may scoff at the idea of relying on AI technology, the 2024 survey of 764 Pacific Crest Trail hikers reported that 99.2% used an app for route planning and navigation.

For now, though, these AI models remain an interesting concept rather than a proven safety measure. Without further development on larger datasets in different countries, and later real-world testing with app integration, it would be premature to conclude that this sort of AI model can reduce the risk of accidents in the mountains.

Nikolay Totmyanin, one of the old stars of Russian alpinism, died yesterday, August 11. He fell ill while descending from Pobeda Peak on the Kyrgyzstan-China border, according to Anna Piunova of Mountain.ru. Totmyanin was 66.

"He came down on his own, pushing hard, knowing he had to get lower as quickly as possible," wrote Piunova on Facebook. "On the evening of August 10, he was admitted to intensive care in Bishkek. By morning, he was gone."

Totmyanin worked as a nuclear power engineer in Saint Petersburg, Russia, but his extraordinary climbing career spanned decades. He completed over 200 ascents in the Caucasus, Pamirs, Tien Shan, Alps, Himalaya, Karakoram, and North America, including 27 climbs graded 5A and 10 graded 5B, as well as 63 big-wall climbs. He had previously summited 7,439m Pobeda, commonly known today as Jengish Chokusu, several times.

On a team led by Aleksander Shevchenko, Totmyanin helped two members climb Lhotse via the South Face Direttissima in 1990, a new route at the time. He summited Everest twice without supplemental oxygen, in 2003 and in 2006. He also helped pioneer a new route on K2's highly difficult West Face in 2007 without bottled oxygen.

Totmyanin was part of the first ascent of Jannu’s north face in 2004, which earned a Piolet d’Or. In 2008, he summited Dhaulagiri I without bottled oxygen, and in 2011, he climbed Kangchenjunga, again in the same style.

He earned the coveted Snow Leopard award five times (for summiting all five 7,000m peaks in the former USSR (Jengish Chokusu, Khan Tengri, Lenin Peak, Korzhenevskaya, Ismoil Somoni). Totmyanin was honored as a Master of Sports and won his country's version of a Golden Ice Axe, among many other distinctions.

Zdenek Hruby climbed some of the world’s highest peaks but also inspired a generation of climbers with his commitment to exploration, ethics, and camaraderie.

Hruby's career was marked by committed ascents, selfless acts, and the relentless pursuit of unclimbed routes, culminating in a tragic fall on Gasherbrum I in 2013. August 8 marks the 12th anniversary of his passing. Tomorrow, August 9, would have been his 69th birthday.

Background

Born in 1956 in the former Czechoslovakia, Hruby was an engineer and economist by training. He studied cybernetics at the Czech Technical University in Prague and then economics in Germany and England. He had a successful career in government as a senior manager in economics and finance. Later, he worked as a teacher at the Faculty of Social Sciences at Charles University in Prague.

A father of two, Hruby balanced his professional and academic life with his passion for mountains, particularly the highest peaks of the Himalaya and Karakoram.

8,000'ers

Hruby’s mountaineering career lasted two decades. Between 1994 and 2012, he climbed eight of the world’s 14x8,000’ers: Cho Oyu (1994), Gasherbrum I and II (1997), Lhotse (1999), Shisha Pangma (2004), Broad Peak (2007), Dhaulagiri I (2008), and Nanga Parbat (2012). In 2002, he led the first successful Czech expedition to Kangchenjunga.

His approach emphasized alpine-style ascents: light, self-sufficient climbs without supplemental oxygen or extensive support.

His 2004 alpine-style ascent of Shisha Pangma with Radek Jaros, Martin Minarik, and Petr Masek took place via the challenging MacIntyre route. The team earned the Czech Mountaineering Association’s Ascent of the Year award.

In 2006, Hruby was a member of a Czech party that summited 4,892m Mount Vinson in Antarctica. The Czech Mountaineering Association also recognized this expedition as one of their Ascents of the Year.

In the spring of 2008, during a successful Dhaulagiri I expedition, Hruby and Radek Jaros rescued three climbers, earning them the Czech Club Fair Play Prize and a diploma from the European Fair Play Movement.

In 2009, Hruby partnered with Marek Holecek to attempt the unclimbed Southwest Face of Gasherbrum I. At 7,500m, just 500m from the summit, Hruby suffered a ruptured gastric ulcer, forcing a dramatic descent. Holecek stayed with Hruby and guided him to safety.

Nanga Parbat

In 2011, Hruby and Holecek targeted the feared Rupal Face of Nanga Parbat via a new route. Hruby was forced to abandon the climb midway with a hand injury, and Holecek turned back in deteriorating weather. One year later, they returned to Nanga Parbat and summited by the Kinshofer route in alpine style, overcoming harsh conditions. The Czech Mountaineering Association awarded the climb an honorable mention, recognizing the duo’s perseverance and skill.

Talung

In the spring of 2013, Hruby and Holecek made the first ascent of the northwest wall of 7,349m Talung in Nepal’s Kanchenjunga region. The route gained about 1,900 vertical meters, with 2,500m of climbing (WI6 M6+). The two men descended via the route of the 1964 first ascent, reaching base camp on May 20.

"Nobody could have foreseen that Talung would be our last summit together," Marek Holecek wrote in his report for the American Alpine Journal. "Fate had been so generous to us, and then it took back what was given with no mercy. The first is so easy to accept automatically, but the second is very hard to cope with, and the memories leave deep scars that will never heal."

Death on Gasherbrum I

In 2013, as part of their Never Stop Exploring expedition series, Hruby and Holecek planned three ambitious climbs: two in the Himalaya and one in Antarctica. Their primary goal was to complete the first ascent of the Southwest Face of Gasherbrum I, a route they had attempted in 2009.

On August 8, a day before Hruby's 57th birthday, Hruby and Holecek were descending Gasherbrum I after an unsuccessful summit bid. During the descent, Hruby made a technical error, using the wrong carabiner while abseiling, and fell roughly 1,000m down the Southwest Face. The fall was fatal, and his body could not be recovered by helicopter.

The climbing community mourned Hruby’s death. The Alpine Club of Pakistan, the Czech Mountaineering Federation, and the UIAA put out statements. A memorial was established at the Hruba Skala climber’s cemetery in the Czech Republic.

In 2017, Marek Holecek completed the Southwest Face of Gasherbrum I with Zdenek Hak, naming the route "Satisfaction" in Hruby’s memory. This ascent, completed on Holecek’s fifth attempt, was awarded the 2018 Piolet d’Or.

An influential man

Hruby’s influence extended beyond his climbs. Elected president of the Czech Mountaineering Federation in 2009 and re-elected in 2012, he also served on the executive committee of one of the Czech Republic’s largest sports organizations. His leadership helped promote mountaineering in the Czech Republic, fostering a culture of adventure and ethical climbing.

Hruby also served as the Czech Republic's Deputy Minister of Finance.

High above the Bow Valley in Canada's Rocky Mountains, trail runner Adam Mertens, 32, can spot his own home below. The comfort of a sofa and a warm meal lies in sight, but between him and that comfort are fading light and steep drops falling on either side of his feet as they skip over a chossy limestone ridge. He’s close in distance, yet worlds away up there in the alpine.

When Mertens first moved to Canmore eight years ago, trail running did not have a long history in that part of the Rockies. "A couple of key people have really cultivated it over the last 15 to 20 years. Before that, there wasn't a ton out there."

Unlike the trail-running mecca of Chamonix in the French Alps, there’s no gondola to the mountains of the Bow Valley. “You’ve got to work for it,” Mertens says. “Even the sport climbing here is an 800m approach to get to the crags.”

The protected national and provincial parks around the mountain towns of Canmore and Banff make trail races a little more complicated to organize. Yet the mountain running scene is slowly growing.

A new generation of Canadian trail runners is eating up big mountain linkups in the Bow Valley, where a huge swathe of jagged limestone peaks rises above the treeline to over 3,000m.

Fast and technical

Mertens is one of those leading the charge, laying down fast times on highly technical routes, bringing together his overall outdoor experience in climbing, scrambling, skiing, and running.

One of the first big linkups Mertens brought this all together on is a traverse of the 11 peaks of Mount Rundle -- the Rundle Traverse -- a chain of peaks that looms large over the honeypot town of Banff. He first attempted the route in 2017 and has since completed it 10 times, most recently setting the fastest known time (FKT).

The Rundle Traverse

Linking up the peaks of Rundle is usually a two-day mountaineering affair. When Mertens first attempted the route, he found little in the way of route beta, especially for anyone skilled or daring enough to run parts of it.

The nearly 25km traverse takes in around 2,500m of elevation gain and includes class 4-5 scrambling with some rappel sections, and requires climbing skills beyond typical trail running.

"None of it is super-difficult technically," Mertens told ExplorersWeb. "It falls in that grey area between trail running, scrambling, and climbing."

"You go out onto some potentially 5.9 terrain with exposure below you,"  he adds. When you tie this in with the fact that the limestone in the Rockies is notoriously loose and chossy -- some locals call the range the Rottenies -- it's clear that trail runners can't afford to switch off.

"The reality is it's still an alpine climb," says Mertens. "The challenge emerges when somebody who has a trail running background, but not a climbing background, gets on that terrain."

Mertens reckons that balancing fatigue management is also critical to keeping safe on the route. "It's no-fall scrambling...matching the pace and the effort to the terrain, so that you come home at the end of the day."

New FKT

Earlier this month, on July 5, Mertens pulled together all his experience on the route to complete it in a mere 4 hours and 49 minutes, a new FKT. He took no rope, minimal water and food, using snow patches for water instead. He timed it so that he did the whole traverse in daylight -- not hard in early summer at 51˚N.

His familiarity with the route allowed him to choose efficient paths and bypass more technical sections: "As that route has evolved, and as the time on it has gone faster and faster, people have figured out different ways to do it, to avoid the rappels and to avoid particularly the crux."

Most people who require assistance on the route get pulled off in the crux between the final two peaks on the western edge of the ridge. "It has to be the most technically challenging section of the route. But it's also the point in the day where you've been moving for 10, 15, 20 hours. It suddenly feels a lot more serious."

Since Mertens first started hitting the traverse in 2017, the route has become much more established with more paths being beaten in, and at least one party on the ridge most weekends during the summer months.

The 'Bow Tie'

Mertens, who works as a hiking guide and outdoor educator, had ambitions beyond the Rundle Traverse. During the COVID lockdowns, he turned his attention to the mountains on his doorstep. It was a period when, in 2020 alone, 23 new FKTs were recorded on various routes in the Bow Valley. With a number of iconic loops already dreamt up in recent decades, Mertens set out to combine several of them into a single massive linkup he dubbed the "Bow Tie."

"The Bow Tie combined three of the most classic big runs, including the Rundle Traverse, Canmore Quad traverse, and then the Banff Triple Crown," Mertens says.

In the early hours of June 30, 2023, Mertens set off into the dark on what would become one of the most ambitious mountain linkups in the Bow Valley.

He began with the Canmore Quad (the four peaks of Grotto, Lady Macdonald, Ha Ling, and the East End of Rundle), continued straight into the full Rundle Traverse, and wrapped up with the Banff Triple Crown (3 peaks of West End of Rundle, Sulphur, and Cascade).

The 115km circuit took Mertens 32 hours to complete and included 9,500m of elevation gain. He crossed the finish line on the Bow Tie around noon on July 1.

This was Mertens' first time running for such a long period. "It was my first time doing over 100km, so that whole experience of engaging with fatigue and knowing where it's appropriate to take a 10-minute nap was definitely a big learning curve for me."

The Bow Valley Cirque

One of Mertens’ most ambitious efforts to date is the Bow Valley Cirque, a self-powered, high-alpine continuous 127km loop around the Canmore–Banff corridor, staying true to the ridgelines and summiting peaks via technical routes. No one had attempted this before.

The Canadian trail runner wasn't put off by the 11,100m of elevation gain, and took on the route in August 2024, going as far as he could in just over 64 hours. On the way, he slept a measly six hours.

Throughout the attempt, Mertens was supported by a team of about 10 people who helped manage key aspects like nutrition, rest, and technical challenges, while also reducing the amount of gear he needed to carry. Others pitched in behind the scenes by scouting sections of the route in advance to see if they worked or not.

"A lot of work went into planning the different sections. And even for all the information that we had, there was a huge piece where there were really no trip reports from people who had done it, " Mertens notes.

The multi-skilled athlete broke the route into six different and committing chunks to allow time to catch some rest out of the alpine. "After each one of those, you're dropping back into town. And the temptation to think 'like, that was kind of good enough' definitely creeps in more and more."

"You're in view of your house the whole time, which adds this other challenge, where you're deep, deep in this and you're in pretty technical terrain," Mertens said.

Unfinished business

The last uncompleted corner of the Cirque still gnaws at Mertens, so he's intending to go back and complete it. "We're gonna go back this year and try to finish it. There was a piece that was unfinished."

For now, though, Mertens seems content with soaking up everything the mountains of the Bow Valley and wider Rockies have to offer.

"There's still so much to do just within the Bow Valley...and the Rockies," he says. "I think it's one of the most beautiful places in the world."

Today, July 25, would be the 104th birthday of Lionel Terray. The celebrated French alpinist climbed routes from the Alps to the Himalaya to the Andes, and also wrote one of the all-time great mountaineering books, Conquistadors of the Useless.

Early years

Lionel Terray was born on July 25, 1921. Growing up in Grenoble near the French Alps, Terray discovered mountaineering and skiing as a child. A conversation with his mother, who dismissed climbing as a stupid sport involving scaling rocks with your hands and feet, sparked his curiosity.

By age 12, Terray was climbing peaks like the Aiguille du Belvedere and the Aiguille d’Argentiere with his cousin. By 13, the talented youngster was leading climbs. But Terray’s love for the mountains caused problems; he got kicked out of one boarding school and ran away from another to pursue ski racing. With little family support, he got by on his own. Skiing was Terray’s first love, and as a teen, he won prizes in competitions, which gave him some money.

In 1941, during World War II, Terray joined Jeunesse et Montagne, a military program that kept him in the mountains. There, he met lifelong friends and climbing partners Gaston Rebuffat and Louis Lachenal.

In 1942, Terray carried out the first ascent of the west side of Aiguille Purtscheller. He also climbed the difficult Col du Caiman. From 1943 to 1944, Terray served in a high-mountain military unit. In 1944, he joined the French resistance, using his mountain skills against the Nazis.

Terray knocked off other notable first ascents, such as the east-northeast spur of the Pain de Sucre and the north face of Aiguille des Pelerins with Maurice Herzog in 1944.

A rising star

After the war, Terray became a mountaineering instructor and settled in Chamonix as a freelance guide. With Lachenal, he did some of the Alps’ most difficult routes, including the Droites’ north spur in only eight hours in 1946, the Walker Spur of the Grandes Jorasses in 1946, the northeast face of Piz Badile, and the north face of the Eiger in 1947 (the second-ever ascent). Terray's speed and skill earned him a reputation as a climbing prodigy.

A rescue attempt on Mont Blanc

In late December 1956, Lionel Terray took part in a rescue attempt on Mont Blanc’s Grand Plateau. At about 4,000m, young climbers Jean Vincendon and Francois Henry were stranded after a failed attempt on the Gouter Route, a popular 1,800m climb to Mont Blanc’s summit.

On December 22, a blizzard caught Vincendon and Henry near the Vallot Hut at 4,362m. Freezing and frostbitten, they couldn’t descend. Terray, now a Chamonix guide, defied the Compagnie des Guides’ decision to postpone a rescue because of the extreme risks of strong winds and freezing temperatures.

Terray’s team battled brutal weather for two days but couldn’t reach the climbers. A military helicopter, attempting a parallel rescue, crashed near the Vallot Hut, stranding its crew. Terray’s group retreated, exhausted, as conditions worsened.

French Army instructors finally reached Vincendon and Henry in early January, but found them near death from exposure and frostbite. Evacuation was impossible, and both climbers died.

Terray’s rescue effort led to his expulsion from the guides’ organization, sparking controversy in Chamonix.

Eiger rescue

In the summer of 1957, Terray took part in a complicated rescue on the Eiger’s North Face in the Swiss Alps. Two Italian climbers, Claudio Corti and Stefano Longhi, were stranded after an avalanche hit their team during an attempt on the notorious Nordwand. The route, known for its steep ice, rockfall, and brutal weather, had already killed their partners, and Corti was injured.

Terray, then 35, joined a multinational rescue team at Kleine Scheidegg. The climbers were stuck near the Difficult Crack, at around 3,300m. Terray, with German climbers Wolfgang Stefan and Hans Ratay, ascended via ropes and pitons. They battled harsh winds and -20°C temperatures. After two days, they reached Corti, who was hypothermic but alive, clinging to a ledge. Longhi, lower down, was too weak to move. Terray secured Corti with ropes, and the team lowered him 600m to safety. Longhi, barely conscious, died during the descent when his rope jammed.

The effort, involving 50 people, was one of mountaineering’s greatest rescues.

Other historic climbs

Terray’s ambition took him beyond the Alps. In 1950, he joined Maurice Herzog’s expedition to 8,091m Annapurna I in the Himalaya, the first confirmed ascent of an 8,000m peak. Terray and Rebuffat's efforts, alongside one of the Sherpas, were crucial to helping the frostbitten Herzog and Lachenal descend safely. The climb brought global fame for the French team.

In 1952, Terray and Guido Magnone made the first ascent of Cerro Fitz Roy in Patagonia. That year, Terray also climbed 6,369m Huantsan in Peru with Cees Egeler and Tom De Booy.

In 1954, Terray summited 7,804m Chomo Lonzo with Jean Couzy, paving the way for their legendary 1955 first ascent of 8,485m Makalu. In 1962, Terray led the first ascent of 7,710m Jannu in Nepal, and in the summer of 1964, he led the first ascent of 3,731m Mount Huntington in Alaska.

In Peru, Terray made first ascents of peaks like 6,108m Chacraraju, considered the hardest peak in the Andes at the time, along with 5,350m Willka Wiqi, 5,428m Soray, and 5,830m Tawllirahu.

Conquistadors of the Useless

In 1961, Terray published Les Conquerants de l’inutile (Conquistadors of the Useless), a memoir that blends vivid accounts of his climbs with reflections on the purpose of mountaineering. The title captures his view that climbing, though seen as pointless by some, was a noble pursuit. The book, translated into several languages, remains a classic.

A tragic end

On September 19, 1965, Terray and his friend Marc Martinetti died in a climbing accident in the Vercors massif near Grenoble. Terray was just 44.

The pair was descending the Gerbier, a limestone cliff in the Vercors range, after completing a route. They were roped together when their rope -- likely weakened or damaged -- snapped. They fell more than 200m to the base of the cliff. Both climbers died on impact. Chamonix mourned deeply, and his funeral drew figures like Herzog, Rebuffat, and Leo LeBon.

"He was to many a great and dear friend, and all those who paid him tribute before he was laid to rest in the Chamonix Cemetery, among them hardened mountain climbers, wept like small children. To the French climbing world, especially the younger generation, his absence represents an irreplaceable loss, as he was the hero of their dreams, and could hold an audience breathless as no one ever has been able to," Lebon wrote in the American Alpine Journal.

Terray’s legacy lives on through his climbs, rescues, and writings. His son, Nicolas, is a mountain guide. Known for his red beanie and sunglasses, Terray appeared in films like Etoile du Midi, La Grande Descente, and Stars Above Mont Blanc.

You can watch Etoile du Midi below, with the option of automatic subtitles:

Naila Kiani is on her way to becoming the first Pakistani woman to complete the 14x8,000'ers, but her impact goes beyond summits. Kiani is driving change in her country's mountaineering scene, speaking up for those without a voice and making more than a few enemies along the way.

During her 14x8,000m quest, Kiani has been a reliable, outspoken witness in the usually secretive commercial climbing industry. She was the one who denounced how climber Ali Akbar Sakhi of Afghanistan was abandoned close to Camp 3 on K2, and faced threats when she accused Sakhi's outfitter of negligence.

Kiani also reported what happened on Shisha Pangma in 2023, when a race to become the first American woman to finish the 8,000m list ended with both women's deaths, alongside their Sherpas. After porter Ali Muhammad Hassan died at K2's Bottleneck, and a hundred climbers passed him on their way to the summit, Kiani coordinated a team of local climbers to return his body in the highest retrieval operation ever performed on K2. She has also led cleaning campaigns on the mountain.

This year, Kiani has spoken out on behalf of a group of local porters whose outfitter had not paid them. She knew the porters were too vulnerable to protest by themselves and that the loss of income might mean misery and hunger for their families.

Changes in aerial rescues

In the last few weeks, Kiani also made two promising announcements: the establishment of a mobile medical dispensary in the Karakoram and a change in helicopter protocols for mountain rescues in Pakistan. Until now, army pilots have managed helicopter rescues, flying in two helicopter patrols that charged $26,000 per flight -- the most expensive fee in the world.

"Last year, I spoke out against the extremely high prices that sick and injured climbers were being charged for helicopter evacuations," Kiani said. "Many told me to stay quiet, and that no one would listen."

Instead, she wrote letters and contacted high-ranking army officials directly. Kiani provided lists of prices comparing aerial rescue services and their costs in several mountain ranges around the world.

"I clearly explained that climbers evacuated in Pakistan were paying way, way too much," Kiani told ExplorersWeb.

To the surprise of the skeptics, the military listened. The new president of the Alpine Club of Pakistan (and Army General), Irfan Arshad, supported Kiani in this quest. The protocols have now changed, and, if applied, the impact will be huge.

View this post on Instagram

See this post on Instagram

Rescues 60% cheaper

Now, the helicopters don't need to fly in pairs.

"Only one helicopter is being sent for rescues, bringing the cost down to under $9,900 on average, nearly one-third of what climbers were paying before," Naila explained.

The change will also double the rescue capacity of the Pakistani air force, as each helicopter may attend to a different rescue at the same time.

Kiani has also insisted on a stricter account of the rescue charges, as the previous cost (calculated per hour of flight time) was sometimes inaccurate.

Finally, Kiani hopes the new protocols will prioritize serious medical cases without insurance companies agreeing to foot the bill first. This would greatly benefit many local porters, who either lack insurance or have limited coverage.

Kiani is hopeful costs will decrease immediately, but she also foresees further improvements. She told Explorersweb that the situation will improve when Pakistan allows private helicopter companies to operate rescues (as they can in Nepal), which Kiani is confident will happen in the future. In her opinion, private companies will lower costs and may be more flexible regarding altitude and weather conditions for rescues.

These improvements may seem logical, but in a country like Pakistan, where the army is incredibly powerful and rarely influenced by external forces, what Kiani has achieved is more extraordinary than any of her climbs.

Dispensaries in the Karakoram

Kiani has also lobbied for (and helped finance) the installation of two paramedical dispensaries along the Baltoro during the summer season. One is already operating at Concordia, one day from K2 Base Camp, and another is ready to start operating in Urdukas, as soon as the assigned nurse gets there.

"They will treat everybody for free: trekkers, climbers, and locals working in the area," Kiani said. "Finally, there is a semi-permanent facility to provide sanitary care during the Baltoro trek: igloos prepared to endure harsh weather."

The lack of facilities was a serious problem, particularly for local porters who had nothing to treat their injuries and disinfect wounds. With no help, even small health issues rapidly developed into serious medical conditions.

"We don't have a doctor yet, but the nurse managing each dispensary can treat a wide range of issues," Kiani said.

Kiani will pay the nurse's salary while Pakistan's Alpine Club will cover the rest.

Not just words, actions

These changes come after years of very little progress to improve the welfare of climbers and, most of all, local communities working in the climbing industry.

"I am not the only one who speaks up," Kiani said. "Other climbers also make their voices heard, but it is one thing to speak about something we think is wrong, and another to take action to change it. I strongly believe that if you want things to change, you need to take action."

Kiani's campaign for change has made enemies, but it has also received important support, such as from the Alpine Club of Pakistan and Green Tourism, a private institution that works closely with the country's government. "Without their help, I couldn’t have achieved what I did this year," Kiani explained.

Yet speaking up takes a toll, especially in the close-knit Pakistani climbing community. When Kiani pointed a finger at the negligence of some local operators, she faced harsh criticism and accusations of jealousy or courting controversy.

But Kiani insists that these negative aspects impact the entire Pakistani tourism industry.

"I can't help thinking that Pakistan has such huge potential for mountain tourism, and that mountain tourism can make a life-changing impact on local communities."

In addition to her determination, Kiani has something else in her favor: She is well-educated, with experience making a case, with plenty of proof and documentation, to draw the attention of senior officials. She is a Dubai-based engineer who has worked as a banker, although she quit her full-time job to pursue climbing in 2023.

Breaking social boundaries through climbing

Kiani summited Kangchenjunga, her 12th 8,000'er, last spring. While she has not confirmed her plans for fall, she intends to climb Shisha Pangma and Dhaulagiri to complete the 14x8,000m challenge.

"I get some criticism because I use oxygen and Sherpa support, but climbing has given me a voice and I’m using that voice to try to make a difference," Kiani told ExplorersWeb.

Kiani has become an influential figure for young Pakistani women.

"Gender equality is a real issue. Women here sometimes don’t have confidence and self-belief, so I wanted to inspire Pakistani women," she explained. "If I can do things that are not associated with Pakistani women, and if I can speak up about things that others won’t even dare, then hopefully others can do the same."

Pakistan ranked last (148th out of 148 countries) in the World Economic Forum's Global Gender Gap Index in 2025, with a score of 56.7%. Dawn.com cited data from the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan (HRCP) showing that in 2024, "honor" killings continued to be a serious issue across Pakistan. That year, 346 people (nearly all women) were victims of these so-called honor crimes.

Around 3:30 pm on July 2, an SOS signal from a Garmin InReach device reached the California Governor’s Office of Emergency Services. It had been sent from just below the summit of 4,383m Mt. Williamson, the second-highest peak in the Sierra Nevada.

The sender, whose name authorities have not released, had fallen and sustained serious injuries. She also lost most of her equipment. Her situation soon became even more desperate when a thunderstorm rolled in. Lightning menaced her, and lashing rain beat over the area as a multi-agency rescue operation launched. But the weather, her severe injuries, and the difficult location kept her stranded for many hours.

The woman had been scrambling off-route near the West Chute on Mt. Williamson. While snow-free in July, the nearly 500m chute has sections of loose scree which make it difficult. Mt. Williamson is trickier to summit than the slightly taller Mt Whitney. There is no established trail above 3,000m, and there aren't many fellow climbers around.

The woman was just a few hundred meters from the summit when she fell, losing her backpack and badly breaking her leg. Over her Garmin, she described the grisly compound fracture -- a fracture where the bone protrudes through the skin -- and her lack of food, water, and extra clothing.

A series of helicopter attempts

California Highway Patrol sent an Airbus H125 helicopter to pick up rescue volunteers. By the time rescuers were on board, the storm had fully descended, bringing cloud cover that prevented the helicopter from reaching her.

More resources were called in, and the nearby China Lake Naval Air Weapons Station agreed to lend aid. They transported search-and-rescue workers to Shepherd's Pass, around 3,000m up, but couldn't get any closer. This was around midnight. Volunteers proceeded on foot, reaching the bottom of the west face by sunrise.

They were able to call up to the stranded climber, but the terrain prevented them from reaching her. By then, however, the weather had improved somewhat, and the helicopter returned and dropped two rescuers about 100m above her. They carefully made their way down, reaching her 23 hours after her fall.

They still had to get her out. Again, SAR personnel called in more resources. The Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department's Air 5 helicopter buzzed over, but the elevation proved too much. Finally, the California National Guard offered their Blackhawk Spartan 164.

SAR workers on the ground carefully moved her into a more open position. Just after 7 pm on July 3, 28 hours after her fall, she was hoisted aboard Spartan 164 and eventually transferred to a hospital.

According to a statement from Inyo County Search and Rescue, the victim displayed "Enormous bravery and fortitude...and all involved were impressed by her ability to remain calm, collected, and alive."

Experienced climbers Saki Terada and Chiaki Inada from Japan faced severe challenges while climbing 6,757m Nevado Huascaran earlier this week. Their climb of Peru's highest peak ended in tragedy.

The duo became stuck at 6,600m during their descent. Inada died, and rescue teams struggled to help Terada down.

Yesterday, rescuers finally evacuated Terada from the mountain, transporting her to Víctor Ramos Guardia Hospital in Huaraz. She is in a critical but stable condition, suffering from severe dehydration and frostbite on her hands and feet from prolonged exposure to extreme cold, according to Infobae.

Today, medics will transfer her to a hospital in Lima, Peru's capital city, where she can continue treatment.

Inada's body recovery underway

Efforts are underway to recover Inada's body. Inada, a 40-year-old doctor for Wilderness Medical Associates Japan (WMA), succumbed to hypothermia and cerebral edema.

According to some Peruvian sources, rescue services found the climbers at approximately 6,500m on the south face of Huascaran’s south peak, just below the summit. They were on the technical Escudo route, a 600m ice and snow wall known for its steep terrain and harsh weather.

Terada and Inada had arrived in Peru two weeks ago and had at least one acclimatization hike before starting the ascent on Huascaran. Presumably, the two women summited on June 23, and the problems started on June 24 when they encountered foggy weather and low visibility.

Timeline of events

Today, WMA Japan has published a report on what happened. Below we have translated it into English with minor edits to improve clarity. Note all times referred to are Peru Standard Time.

June 24

At around 1:30 am:
- Chiaki Inada became incapacitated due to suspected hypothermia. A distress signal was sent via Garmin’s SOS satellite device to a private rescue agency in Peru. The agency contacted WMA Japan to verify the situation.

At around 4:00 am:
- A response headquarters was established, and negotiations began with various parties.
- Requests for rescue to the local private rescue agency and to local police authorities.
- Request for support through the Japanese Embassy in Peru.

At around 7:30 am:
- Online meeting with Japanese and Peruvian stakeholders.
- Survival of Inada and Terada confirmed.
- Text communication with Japan was possible until around 10:00 am. The climbers were stranded and incapacitated at the site.
- Rescue arrangements confirmed.
- The climbers' problems occurred around 6,600m, just below the summit. No helicopters in Peru can fly at this altitude, so the rescue team had to fly to the Huascaran refuge hut, then proceed on foot to the site. The plan was to bring both climbers to the refuge hut by land, followed by a helicopter rescue.
- Cooperation from local police was secured through the Japanese Embassy in Peru.

At around 4:00 pm:
- A joint rescue operation by local police and private teams began. Nine team members, split into three groups, arrived at the Huascaran refuge hut.
- The team began climbing toward the stranded climbers on foot.
- Additional teams were dispatched through efforts by the Japanese Embassy and local stakeholders.
- The rescue team consisted of over 10 members, primarily local mountain guides, operating in several groups.

June 25

At around 7:30 am:
- Staff at a lodge at the mountain’s base reported phone contact with Inada and Terada
- Though their responses were not entirely clear, their voices were confirmed.

At around 12:00 pm:
The rescue team approached the SOS location but encountered difficulties due to large crevasses. They continued searching for a viable route.

At around 3:00 pm:
- The rescue team reached the two stranded climbers. Terada was conscious. Inada was unconscious and in critical condition.
- The team provided first aid and considered transport options through the night.

At around 6:00 pm:
- Deteriorating weather conditions made rescue operations extremely difficult, rendering simultaneous transport of both climbers impossible.
- Local rescue teams and authorities determined Inada’s death at the site.
- Further rescue activities became unsafe, so Inada’s body was temporarily left at the site with its location recorded via GPS.
- The rescue team focused on evacuating Terada.

June 26

At around 9:00 am:
- Terada was walking at approximately 5,100m (the pickup point is at about 4,500m).
- A helicopter and local medical personnel were on standby for transport.
- The plan was to transport Terada to a hospital at the base via helicopter upon reaching the pickup point.

At around 1:45 pm:
- Terada safely reached the helicopter pickup point at the refuge hut.
- Partway down, she became unable to walk independently and was carried by the rescue team, but remained fully conscious.
- Final landing arrangements and flight permissions were being coordinated, with the helicopter set to deploy once conditions were met.

At around 2:30 pm:
- Thanks to the rescue team’s swift coordination, Terada was safely admitted to a hospital.
- Preparations for the recovery of Inada’s body have begun.

At around 10:00 pm:
- A team of local mountain police and guides left to retrieve Inada’s body.

Captain Manmohan Singh Kohli, a pioneering Indian mountaineer, passed away on June 23 at the age of 93.

Celebrated for leading India’s first successful Everest expedition in 1965, Captain M.S. Kohli's career also included an Antarctic expedition and many other Himalayan ventures. His work as a mountaineer, author, editor, Himalayan Club president, and Indian Mountaineering Foundation president shaped Indian mountaineering.

Born December 11, 1930, in Haripur (now Pakistan), Kohli joined the Indian Navy in 1950, rising to the rank of Commander. He trained in the UK and developed leadership skills. By 1956, he began Himalayan mountaineering.

Kohli took part in over 20 adventures in the Greater Ranges. In 1956, he climbed 7,672m Saser Kangri in the Karakoram. In 1959, with K.P. Sharma, he topped out on 6,861m Nanda Kot in the Kumaon Himalaya. It was just the second ascent of the mountain.

Between 1961 and 1964, Kohli led three successful expeditions -- the first ascent of Annapurna III, a climb of 7,816m Nanda Devi, and an expedition to 7,198m Nepal Peak.

In the 1960s, Kohli led and summited Kabru Dome and Rathong, strengthening India’s eastern Himalayan presence. In 1965, Kohli led a covert Indian-American mission to place a nuclear-powered device to monitor Chinese tests but did not summit due to harsh conditions.

Everest expedition leader

In 1965, Kohli led the first successful Indian expedition to Everest. Nine climbers on his team summited between May 20–29. It set a record for the most summiters on one expedition, which remained unbroken for 17 years.

His leadership on that expedition was extraordinary. Indira Gandhi, who later became the Prime Minister of India, said of Kohli at the time: "Commander Kohli’s expedition...was a masterpiece of planning, organization, teamwork, individual effort, and leadership.”

Later, Kohli climbed several European peaks with Tenzing Norgay. In 1982–1983, he led India’s first civilian Antarctic expedition, supporting scientific exploration.

He was also a committed alpinist beyond expeditions. As president and vice president of the Himalayan Club (1980–1983), Kohli edited the Himalayan Journal. As president of the Indian Mountaineering Foundation (1989–1993), he promoted adventure and youth engagement. In 1989, he co-founded the Himalayan Environment Trust with Sir Edmund Hillary. It was supported by Maurice Herzog, Reinhold Messner, Junko Tabei, and Chris Bonington.

Kohli was much loved and respected in international mountaineering circles. He promoted mountaineering and trekking through many presentations around the world.

Kohli authored Nine Atop Everest, Spies in the Himalayas (with Kenneth Conboy), The Great Himalayan Climb,  and A Life Full of Adventures, among several other publications.

Kohli received the Padma Bhushan (1965), Arjuna Award (1965), Ati Vishisht Seva Medal (AVSM), and Tenzing Norgay Lifetime Achievement Award. He lectured at the Alpine Club (UK) and the American Alpine Club.

Captain Kohli’s passing marks the end of an era, but his expeditions, leadership, writings, and conservation efforts will continue to inspire.

One of Poland's great alpinists of the 1970s and 80s, Krystyna Palmowska, died yesterday in a climbing fall in Slovakia’s High Tatras, according to Polish sources.

The accident occurred on June 15, and her body was found today, June 16, by the Slovak Mountain Rescue Service after ground and helicopter searches.

Palmowska, 76, was one of the best female alpinists of her generation -- a generation when the Poles, both men and women, dominated high-altitude mountaineering. Her remarkable climbs included:

• 1977: Matterhorn North Face – 2nd all-female ascent
•  1978: Matterhorn North Face – 1st all-female winter climb
•  1979: Rakaposhi (7,788m) – New route
•  1982: Member of the K2 Women's Expedition
•  1983: Broad Peak (8,047m) – 1st woman summiter
•  1985: Nanga Parbat (8,126m) – 1st all-female ascent
•  1986: K2 Magic Line – Reached 8,200m with Anna Czerwinska

Today, 104 years ago, legendary French alpinist Gaston Rebuffat was born.

One of the most celebrated mountaineers of the 20th century, Rebuffat was known for his bold new routes in the Alps, his role in the first confirmed ascent of an 8,000m peak (Annapurna I in 1950), and as the first person to climb all six great North Faces of the Alps. He wrote several influential mountaineering books and produced films that captured the essence of alpinism.

Early climbs

Rebuffat was born on May 7, 1921, in Marseille, France. He started climbing at 14 in the Calanques, a rugged coastal area near his hometown. In 1937, at 16, he joined the French Alpine Club, where he met Lionel Terray, a future climbing partner. Rebuffat visited Chamonix for the first time in 1937, and the Alps soon became his focus.

During World War II, Rebuffat took his climbing to a new level. In 1942, he graduated from Jeunesse et Montagne, a French youth training program, and received his mountain guide certification (despite being two years younger than the minimum age requirement of 23). In 1944, Rebuffat became an instructor for the French National Ski and Mountaineering School (ENSA) and the High Mountain Military School.

By 1945, he was focused on guiding clients in the Alps, fulfilling his desire to live in the mountains full time. He joined the prestigious Compagnie des Guides de Chamonix.

Climbs in the Alps

Rebuffat’s climbing career in the Alps was outstanding, with over 1,200 ascents classified as difficult or very difficult. In the 1940s, Rebuffat tackled some of the Alps’ most challenging peaks, alongside partners such as Terray and Louis Lachenal. By the end of the 1940s, Rebuffat was among France’s elite mountaineers.

In the 1940s and 50s, Rebuffat established approximately 40 significant first ascents via new routes. These included routes on the Aiguille du Midi, the Drus, and Aiguille du Roc. His new lines were known for their elegance and technical challenge, and reflect his philosophy of climbing in harmony with the mountain rather than conquering it.

The six North Faces of the Alps

Rebuffat finished his most celebrated achievement in 1952. The North Faces of the Matterhorn, Eiger, Grandes Jorasses, Piz Badile, Drus, and Cima Grande di Lavaredo are well known for their steepness, difficulty, and unpredictable weather.

Rebuffat began to plan his first North Face, the Grandes Jorasses, in 1938, when he was only 17 years old. The first ascent -- by Italians Riccardo Cassin, Gino Esposito, and Ugo Tizzoni -- inspired him.

On Rebuffat's first attempt, in 1943, bad weather forced him to retreat. Finally, in July 1945, he succeeded, climbing the Walker Spur with Edouard Frendo in three days with two bivouacs. This marked the second ascent of this route.

In August 1946, Rebuffat guided Belgian amateur mountaineer Rene Mallieux up the North Face of the Petit Dru. They climbed fast to reach the summit by nightfall, bivouacking on the descent and attending the Chamonix Guides’ Festival the next day. The one-day ascent showcased Rebuffat’s efficiency and guiding skills.

In the summer of 1948, Rebuffat guided a client up the northeast face of Piz Badile in the Bregaglia Alps. Despite a severe lightning storm, they reached the summit the following day. They followed the Cassin Route, first ascended in 1937.

Rebuffat’s fourth North Face came in 1949 when he climbed the Matterhorn twice, first with Raymond Simond, and later with other partners (though some sources mention only one ascent). He targeted the Schmid Route, first climbed in 1931.

The same year, Rebuffat ascended the North Face of Cima Grande di Lavaredo in the Dolomites, guided by Italian Gino Solda. This ascent followed the Comici-Dimai Route, first climbed in 1933.

In July 1952, Rebuffat completed his quest with the North Face of the Eiger via the Heckmair Route. He climbed with Paul Habran, Guido Magnone, Pierre Leroux, and Jean Brune.

Annapurna I

In 1950, Rebuffat joined a French expedition to Annapurna I. Led by Maurice Herzog, the team included Rebuffat, Terray, and Lachenal, among others. The expedition started in March, but the ascent only began in May.

The French party established a base camp and four intermediate camps, the highest at 7,400m. On June 3, Herzog and Lachenal summited and became the first two people in the world to reach the top of an 8,000m peak. Rebuffat and Terray didn’t summit, but played a critical role during the descent.

While summiting was a historic triumph, the descent turned into an ordeal,  marked by frostbite, snowblindness, avalanches, and navigational errors. Rebuffat helped to ensure the survival of frostbitten and disoriented teammates during the harrowing retreat.

Herzog and Lachenal reached the top around 2 pm and started to descend immediately. The weather was clear but very cold, with temperatures estimated at -40°. Herzog somehow lost his gloves while handling equipment, exposing his hands. Lachenal, impatient to descend quickly in the worsening conditions and with his own frostbite concerns, slipped and tumbled 100m down the slope. Miraculously, he stopped short of a fatal drop, but the accident left him shaken, with one crampon missing, and his ice axe gone. His feet, already numb from prolonged exposure, were deteriorating rapidly. Both men were in a very bad state as they struggled toward Camp 5 at 7,440m, where Rebuffat and Terray awaited.

Meeting Rebuffat and Terray

Rebuffat and Terray had climbed to Camp 5 earlier that day, expecting to support Herzog and Lachenal or possibly attempt the summit themselves if conditions allowed.

When Herzog arrived at the high camp alone, Rebuffat and Terray were relieved, but then alarmed when they shook his hand. Herzog’s hands were frozen solid, white, and lifeless.

Rebuffat and Terray started to massage Herzog’s frostbitten hands and feet, hoping to restore the circulation, but their efforts had little result. Hearing some cries from below, Terray ventured out of the tent into the dusk and located Lachenal, who had missed the camp and was 200m down the slope. Terray guided Lachenal back to Camp 5. Lachenal’s feet were frozen, and he was disoriented from his fall and the altitude.

Rebuffat and Terray worked through the night to keep Herzog and Lachenal warm, using their body heat. Herzog’s hands and feet were turning black, and Lachenal’s toes were stiffening. Aware that the team needed to descend urgently for medical attention, Rebuffat helped organize the group for the next day’s descent.

Descending in cruel conditions

On June 4, in worsening weather, the four climbers set out to descend to Camp 4 at 7,150m. It was a whiteout, with heavy snow and almost zero visibility. Rebuffat and Terray had removed their glacier goggles the previous day while searching for the route, and both were snowblind.

The situation was critical. Two blind men were guiding two weak, injured climbers. Rebuffat relied on his instincts and memory of the route to help navigate, but the party struggled to locate Camp 4, missing it in the fog and snow. Exhausted, the four climbers had to bivouac in a crevasse for the night.

At dawn, on June 5, an avalanche poured into the crevasse, burying their boots and equipment. Rebuffat and Terray, still snowblind, dug frantically to recover their gear. Rebuffat was determined to keep the group moving.

Later that morning, teammate Marcel Schatz ascended from Camp 4 to search for them. Thankfully, he spotted the group and guided them to safety.

Rebuffat’s resilience

At Camp 4, Rebuffat was suffering early frostbite and snow blindness but coordinated the Sherpas' evacuation of his companions.

On June 5, during their descent to Camp 2, Rebuffat helped rescue Herzog and two Sherpas from an avalanche. By the afternoon, the team reached Camp 2. Finally, everyone reached base camp alive, though Herzog and Lachenal lost some digits.

Rebuffat died from cancer on May 31, 1985, in Bobigny, France at age 64. Rebuffat’s tombstone in Chamonix’s old cemetery bears a quote from his book Les Horizons Gagnes:

"The mountaineer is a man who leads his body to where, one day, his eyes have looked."

Legacy

Rebuffat wrote over 20 books on mountaineering, including Starlight and Storm: The Ascent of the Six Great North Faces of the Alps, Mont Blanc to Everest, On Ice and Snow and Rock, The Mont Blanc Massif: The 100 Finest Routes, Men and the Matterhorn, and Between Heaven and Earth. He also edited a mountaineering column for Le Monde.

Rebuffat also produced numerous films, including: Flammes des Pierres, Etoiles et Tempetes (which won the Grand Prize at the Trento Film Festival), Entre Terre et Ciel, and Les Horizons Gagnes.

Rebuffat’s commitment to share the beauty of the mountains continues to resonate with climbers and adventurers. His routes in the Mont Blanc massif are still climbed, and his books remain classics.

You can watch the film Etoiles et Tempetes (in French) below:

Lenin Peak, a towering giant in the Pamirs, has attracted climbers for decades. We examine its first ascents (one from the south and one from the north) as well as two expeditions that ended in tragedy, including the deadliest-ever mountaineering disaster.

Lenin Peak

Lenin Peak (7,134m) is located on the border between Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan in the Pamir Mountains. Its northern slopes are in Kyrgyzstan’s Alai Province, and its southern slopes are in Tajikistan’s Gorno-Badakhshan region. The summit lies on the border, making it a shared peak between the two countries.

It is the highest peak in the Trans-Alay Range, and the second highest in both Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan, surpassed only by 7,495m Ismoil Somoni Peak in Tajikistan and 7,439m Jengish Chokusu in Kyrgyzstan.

Lenin Peak is one of five 7,000m peaks in the former USSR. Climbers must summit all five to achieve the prestigious Snow Leopard Award. Decades after the fall of the Soviet Union, climbers still pursue the Snow Leopard challenge.

A peak with many names

In 1871, the peak was named Mount Kaufman after Konstantin Kaufman, the first Governor-General of Russian Turkestan. In 1928, it was unsurprisingly renamed Lenin Peak.

The current official name differs between Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan. In Kyrgyzstan, it is called Lenin Chokusu (Lenin Peak), while in Tajikistan, it is Qullai Abuali Ibni Sino (Ibn Sina Peak or Avicenna Peak). Tajikistan renamed the mountain in 2006 after the Persian scholar Abu Ali ibn Sina.

Local Kyrgyz names include Jel-Aidar (Wind’s God) and Achyk-Tash (Open Rock).

We’ll call the mountain Lenin Peak, as it bore this name for three of the four expeditions we cover in this article.

Renowned as one of the most accessible 7,000’ers, hundreds of climbers visit Lenin Peak annually. Most climb the classic north face route, approaching from Osh in Kyrgyzstan. However, the mountain’s reputation as the easiest 7,000m peak is misleading because of its high altitude, unpredictable weather, and avalanche risk.

The first ascent

In September 1928, a Soviet-German expedition targeted Lenin Peak. The team included German climbers Eugen Allwein and Karl Wien, and Austrian Erwin Schneider, supported by Soviet climbers and porters. The expedition was a joint effort to map the Pamirs.

They approached from the south side, starting in the Saukdara River Valley, continuing up the south slope of the Trans-Alay Range, and then ascending via the Greater Saukdara Glacier. Their route wound from Krylenko Pass (a saddle that connects the Greater Saukdara Glacier to the upper slopes of Lenin Peak at 5,820m) to the northeast ridge toward the summit.

The three climbers faced brutal conditions with rudimentary gear: canvas jackets, wool layers, and leather boots with nail soles. High winds and subzero temperatures tested their endurance. On September 25 at 3:30 pm, Allwein, Wien, and Schneider reached the summit.

During the descent, the climbers suffered severe frostbite that required medical care in Osh. They left no summit proof on top, leading some to question their success. Despite some skepticism, authorities accepted their ascent, marking a historic first. The team also set a new mountaineering altitude record, surpassing that set by Alexander Kellas on 7,128m Pauhunri in 1911.

The first ascent from the north

In 1934, Soviet climbers tried from the northern side. The expedition, backed by the Red Army, included siblings Vitaly and Yevgeny Abalakov, Kasian Chernuha, and Ivan Lukin.

They started from Achik-Tash Canyon, ascending to Lenin Glacier’s western ice slope on the north face. They reached the crest of the northeast ridge at approximately 6,500m and continued along the ridge to the summit. En route, they established camps at 5,700m, 6,500m, and 7,000m.

On September 8  at 4:20 pm, Chernuha, Vitaly Abalakov, and Lukin summited after a four-day climb. Abalakov placed a bust of Vladimir Lenin on the summit.

The 1974 tragedy

In 1974, Lenin Peak hosted an international mountaineering camp, attracting nearly 200 climbers.

A Soviet all-female team led by Elvira Shatayeva planned a traverse, ascending via the Lipkin Ridge on the north face, and descending the Razdelnaya Route on Lenin Peak's northern side.

The women topped out on August 7, despite warnings from base camp of an approaching storm. The storm, the worst in 25 years, caught them below the summit. The wind exceeded 100kph, shredded the party’s thin cotton tents, and exposed Shatayeva's team to temperatures below -20C°. They didn't want to abandon each other, and all eight stayed together until their last breath.

Shatayeva maintained radio contact with base camp, reporting dwindling supplies and frostbite. American climber John Roskelley and some nearby Japanese alpinists attempted a rescue but were repelled by the blizzard. Over two days, the women succumbed to hypothermia and exhaustion.

Shatayeva’s last radio message was: "I'm alone now, with just a few minutes left to live. See you in eternity."

All eight women perished, and climbers later found their bodies scattered along the summit ridge. The disaster, caused by inadequate gear and the ferocity of the storm, shocked the mountaineering community.

The deadliest mountaineering tragedy

In the summer of 1990, 45 climbers, primarily from the Leningrad Mountaineering Club, were at Camp 2 (5,300m) on what is now called the Razdelnaya Route on Peak Lenin's north face. The party included Soviet climbers Leonid Troshchinenko, Vladimir Voronin, and Alexei Koren (among others), six mountaineers from the former Czechoslovakia (including Miroslav Brozman), four Israelis, two Swiss climbers, and one Spaniard.

On July 13 at 9:30 pm, a 6.4-magnitude earthquake (with its epicenter in Afghanistan’s Hindu Kush) shook the Pamirs. It dislodged a serac from nearby Chapaev Peak, triggering a massive avalanche. Snow and ice hit Camp 2 on Lenin Peak, burying the climbers in seconds, and killing 43 people from five nations.

Koren and Brozman, who were positioned at the camp’s edge, survived with a broken arm and leg, respectively. They heard the trapped climbers’ cries as the debris froze into the glacial ice.

According to Charles Huss's report for the American Alpine Journal, a few other climbers were lucky to survive. Vladimir Balyberdin had decided at the last minute to move to Camp 3 with some friends, and six English climbers escaped because they had established their bivouac some distance from the main camp.

Rescue efforts

Soviet helicopters searched for the avalanche victims but initially could only recover one body. In 2004, because of glacial melt, human remains surfaced at 4,200m, with more emerging in 2008.

A plaque near the Achik-Tash base camp commemorates the victims of the 1990 disaster. It remains the deadliest single mountaineering accident in history.

In 1978, American mountaineer Johnny Waterman completed the first solo ascent and traverse of Mount Hunter’s twin summits in Alaska. His grueling 145-day odyssey redefined the limits of solo mountaineering, showcasing incredible endurance and skill. We examine the climb, its significance, and Waterman’s legacy.

Johnny Waterman

John Mallon Waterman, better known as Johnny Waterman, was born in 1952. He grew up climbing with his father, Guy Waterman (a mountaineer and conservationist who also wrote several books about the outdoors), and his older brother Bill.

When Johnny Waterman was still in his teens, he began backpacking and rock climbing in New York and New England. He led a 5.10 route (Retribution) in the Shawangunk Mountains in New York State at 15. At 16, he climbed McKinley’s West Buttress with the Appalachian Mountain Club.

According to Bradley Snyder for the American Alpine Journal, Waterman was years ahead of mainstream mountaineering: "John might have coasted through mountains on sheer natural ability, but he took the craft of climbing seriously, and trained himself to be a fast, safe, consistent climber on any terrain."

Notable climbs

After high school, Waterman made trips to England, Scotland, Canada, the Alps, and Turkey, and carried out several remarkable ascents. In Canada, he made the second ascent of Snowpatch Spire’s South Face.

Waterman made the first solo ascent of the committing VMC Direct route on 1,244m Cannon Mountain in New Hampshire, a mind-blowing feat.

He ascended The Nose of El Capitan, soloed the Grand Teton’s North Face, and carried out the first south-to-north traverse of the Howser Towers.

He made the first ascent of Mount McDonald’s North Face and the first ascent of the East Ridge of Mount Huntington. On Mount Robson, he made the third ascent of the North Face.

Mount Hunter

Mount Hunter (also called Begguya) is 13km south of Mount McKinley, in the Alaska Range within Denali National Park.

Begguya means child, or Denali’s child, in the local Dena’ina Athabascan language. It is famous for its technical difficulty, steep faces, and remoteness. Elite alpinists are drawn to its challenging routes, extreme weather, and beauty.

Mount Hunter has two summits: the North Summit at 4,442m and the South Summit at 4,255m. A high plateau connects the two summits, making the traverse an unusual challenge. Its climbing history features several bold ascents, technical innovation, and few summits, especially compared with McKinley.

Fred Beckey, Heinrich Harrer, and Henry Meybohm made the first ascent of Mount Hunter in 1954 via the west ridge from the Kahiltna Glacier. They topped out on the North Summit on July 3. Their multi-day route passed over crevassed glaciers, steep snow slopes, and a corniced ridge.

A bold attempt on Mount Hunter in 1973

In May 1973, Waterman and partners Dean Rau, Don Black, and Dave Carman attempted the first ascent of the south face-south ridge route of Mount Hunter. Waterman, then 21 years old, aimed for the 4,257m South Summit.

On May 29, Black, Waterman, and Carman were 61m below the South Summit when they mistakenly halted at a gendarme because of an approaching storm and confusion with the North Summit. (Rau had stopped lower down.)

Their route from the south col (3,200m) comprised three demanding sections: a complex lower rock ridge requiring 914m of rope and 40 anchors; a steep middle mixed face with ice-filled cracks; and an upper snow-ice ridge with unstable ice and minimal belays.

A storm trapped the climbers in a snow cave for days, with high winds and almost zero visibility. The climbers were running out of food, and Waterman had frostbite. The exhausted trio retreated from below the South Summit. Despite the failure, Waterman decided to return one day to solo Mount Hunter.

After 1973, Waterman moved to Fairbanks, Alaska. He preferred solo climbing because he struggled to find equally skilled partners, and possibly because of a tragic event in 1973. Johnny’s beloved brother, Bill, who had lost his leg in a railroad accident in 1969, disappeared in Alaska in 1973. Bill was only 22 years old.

After this, Waterman became more isolated and increasingly climbed solo.

Mount Hunter solo traverse, 1978

Waterman returned to Mount Hunter alone in the spring of 1978.

"My vendetta with Mount Hunter started in the late 1960s, with Bradford Washburn’s pictures in the American Alpine Journal," Waterman wrote in his climbing report for the AAJ.

Driven by a decade-long obsession, Waterman began a solo south-to-north traverse. Starting on March 24 from the Tokositna Glacier’s cirque at 2,438m, he aimed to climb the 1,433m Central Buttress of the south face (referred to as the southeast spur in mountaineering literature), then traverse the summit plateau and descend the north spur.

He had 1,097m of rope and more than 350kg of gear, including food calculated to provide 5,000 calories a day.

The climb

Waterman adopted an expedition-style approach, shuttling his 272kg base camp up each section, reusing rope to cover a route requiring 3,658m. The ascent involved 12 camps and 12 round trips per section.

The Central Buttress was mostly snow and ice, with rock steps and a 107m rock cliff. Section one included a 366m gully, and section two tackled a 152m technical crux, including a 24m pinnacle and a 90m gully. On April 11, day 18, he reached Camp 3.

Next came a 488m corniced arete, featuring a 30m headwall and ice pinnacle, which he finished on May 6. The next section wasn’t easy, either. He climbed steep terrain, joining the south ridge at 3,871m on May 26.

During the climb, Waterman suffered frostbite, lost a contact lens, and had a lice infestation. He dealt with fraying ropes, cornice collapses, and food shortages, dropping to two-thirds rations by June. A resupply on June 20 (day 88) provided 36 days of food.

By June 12, he reached the summit plateau after navigating a 213m ice arete. He topped out on the South Summit on July 2 after 101 days. After traversing the two summits, he reached the North Summit on July 26.

He descended by the north spur, arriving at his fly-out site 43 days later. His solo expedition took an astonishing 145 days. According to his report, Waterman used 40 ice pitons, pickets, and flukes, and 20 rock anchors.

His new route was the first solo ascent and the first solo traverse of the peak. He endured loneliness, rage, and frustration, but persevered, managing limited food supplies to complete his climb.

After the climb, Waterman’s mental health deteriorated. He displayed obsessive and delusional behavior. His past climbing feats convinced him he was invincible.

Disappearance

In the spring of 1981, Waterman targeted McKinley solo via the East Buttress. He planned to climb up the northwest fork of the Ruth Glacier, a route prone to crevasses and avalanches. Waterman began on April 1, carrying minimal supplies. He was last seen on April 19 at 3,350m.

Helicopters and ground rescue teams found only some tracks and an abandoned campsite. He might have suffered a fatal crevasse fall, died in an avalanche, or, with minimal gear, perished of exposure. Waterman was 29 years old when he disappeared.

Aftermath

Waterman’s father, Guy Waterman, committed suicide in February 2000, intentionally freezing to death on Mount Lafayette in New Hampshire. Laura Waterman, Guy Waterman’s wife (and Johnny Waterman’s stepmother), created The Waterman Fund after his death. The fund promotes wilderness preservation through education, trail maintenance, and research. The present an annual Guy Waterman Alpine Steward Award, honoring those dedicated to protecting the region’s mountain wilderness.

At 7,788m, Pakistan's Rakaposhi is a formidable peak that sees little climbing activity. Fewer than a dozen parties have topped out. Its steep slopes, technical difficulty, and unpredictable weather deter most climbers.

Rakaposhi is the 26th highest independent peak in the world and the 12th highest 7,000’er. It lies in the Lesser Karakoram mountains in Gilgit-Baltistan. The closest 8,000m peak is Nanga Parbat, roughly 110km south-southwest of Rakaposhi.

The mountain is also known by the name Dumani, which comes from the local Burushaski language. It translates to "Mother of Mist" or "Mother of Clouds" because the peak is often shrouded. The name Rakaposhi derives from a Burushaski term meaning "shining wall."

Rakaposhi rises 5,800m in just 11.5km of horizontal distance from the Hunza River.

The first foreign explorers arrived at the end of the 19th century. Martin Conway explored Rakaposhi's southern side in 1892. Conway concluded that although the upper part of Rakaposhi could be climbable, reaching the upper crest of the peak by any of the supporting ridges would be difficult and dangerous.

In 1938, British mountaineer and explorer Michal Vyvyan and his partner Reginald Campbell Secord approached the peak from the west. They ascended a small 5,800m forepeak at the end of the northwest ridge.

The first determined attempts

In 1947, Secord returned with Bill Tilman and two Swiss climbers to attempt the southwest spur. They abandoned their attempt at 5,800m, where a great gendarme blocked the route. From there, Tilman observed a 600m wall of snow and ice, which they called Monk’s Head.

The team then tried the northwest ridge. Later, they inspected the southeast face, the north face, and the east face but found them all impracticable.

In the summer of 1954, two expeditions arrived at Rakaposhi.

An Austrian-German party led by Mathias Rebitsch attempted the southwest spur. They reached 5,200m, but extreme snowstorms, high winds, and difficult ice conditions forced them to retreat. They agreed with Conway's conclusion from 60 years earlier: The mountain seemed unclimbable from that direction.

In the same season, an expedition from the Cambridge University Mountaineering Club led by Alfred Tissieres attempted the same route. They climbed the Monk’s Head but turned around in bad weather at 6,340m.

In 1956, Mike Banks led a four-man British-American expedition to Rakaposhi. They were the first expedition to go above 7,000m, reaching 7,170m on the southwest ridge. They made two further attempts later on that expedition but couldn’t progress higher.

"We were all much impressed by Rakaposhi," Richard K. Irvin recalled in his report for the American Alpine Journal. "It’s a very long climb, and it is a real climb, not just pushing along. This route certainly can be climbed to the summit, and there probably is no other way by today’s Himalayan standards."

The first ascent

In 1958, two years after his first attempt, Banks returned to the mountain, leading a British-Pakistani Forces Expedition that included Scottish mountaineer Tom Patey.

The climbers chose the southwest spur for their ascent. They established Base Camp on May 20 at 4,267m.

Over the next month, relentless snowfall, avalanches, and blizzards hampered their efforts to put up six camps to the summit. Despite the storms, the team set camps up to 5,791m. On June 20, seven climbers and some Hunza porters ascended the slope of Monk’s Head, and the porters carried loads beyond it.

On June 23, three climbers carried supplies from 6,400m to 7,010m, allowing Banks, Patey, R.F. Brooke, and R.N. Grant to camp at 7,010m. On June 24, Brooke and Grant supported the summit party of Banks and Patey. Banks and Patey then established a high camp at 7,315m.

On June 25, Banks and Patey set out for the summit in a strong blizzard. Battling intense cold, they climbed for five hours and finally topped out.

Patey suffered minor frostbite on his hand and Banks on his feet. After summiting, the duo descended quickly to their high camp. Three days later, the entire team returned safely to base camp.

This first ascent of Rakaposhi was carried out without supplemental oxygen.

The first repetition of the southwest spur

The Belgian Club Alpin Beige Expedition repeated Rakaposhi’s southwest spur route in 1983. After great difficulty climbing the Monk’s Head slope, Bertrand Borrey, Daniel Bogaert, Arthur Delobbe, and high-altitude porter Sultan Ullah Baig topped out on August 2.

According to the expedition’s report in the American Alpine Journal, the climbers started an avalanche while descending. The avalanche swept away Michel Bodard, who fell 200m and suffered a broken leg and thumb, a punctured lung, a concussion, and multiple contusions. He was lowered to Camp 4 (at 6,400m), and two days later, a helicopter picked him up at 6,140m.

Their bad luck didn't end there. On August 5, high-altitude porter Sultan Ullah Baig insisted on descending alone to give his countrymen news of the summit success. He disappeared between Camp 2 and Camp 1. The team searched for five days but never found his body.

New route in 1979

On June 5, 1979, a Polish-Pakistani expedition led by Ryszard Kowalewski established a base camp at 3,810m in a side basin of the Biro Glacier.

On June 14, a gigantic ice avalanche from a collapsed wall devastated the tents at base camp, but the expedition continued. The party tackled the northwest ridge, previously scouted to 6,005m by an Irish expedition in 1964.

They set up Camp 1 on June 6, placing it at 4,907m at the base of the northwest ridge. They established Camp 2 at 6,203m on June 26.

The party then descended 61m to a snow terrace below the summit pyramid, where they set up Camp 3 at 6,500m. Crossing the terrace to a col at the end of the southwest ridge took between six and eight hours. Here, on June 30, they placed Camp 4 at 7,102m.

On July 1, Kowalewski, Pakistani climber Sher Khan, and Tadeusz Piotrowski climbed to the summit in 18 hours. The next day, after a miserable night with six in a tent, Andrzej Bielun, Jacek Gronczewski, and Jerzy Tillak also topped out, reaching the summit in only six hours.

On July 5, with the higher camps empty, Anna Czerwinska and Krystyna Palmowska summited unroped through wind and snow. This marked the second-highest "ladies-only" climb after Gasherbrum II in 1975 by Halina Kruger and Anna Okopinska. The two women climbed unroped because it was too cold for one to wait for the other.

The Polish-Pakistani success was the second documented ascent of Rakaposhi.

A solo climb

In 1995, Anibal Pineda of Colombia made a notable solo climb via the northwest ridge. According to the American Alpine Journal, Volker Stallbohm was the expedition leader.

The extremely difficult north spur

In the summer of 1979, a Japanese expedition from Waseda University arrived. Led by Eiho Otani, they summited via the north spur, a steep route on the north face.

They established their high camp on an ice step at 7,300m. From there, Otani and Matsushi Yamashita started their summit push. The duo bivouacked at 7,600m and summited on August 2. On top, they found evidence of the Polish ascent. The expedition climbed siege-style, with 5,000m of fixed rope, over six weeks.

This extremely difficult route had been attempted in 1971 and 1973, both led by Karl Herrligkoffer.

The same route saw its first alpine-style ascent in 1984. Canadians Barry Blanchard and Kevin Doyle and South African Dave Cheesmond survived lightning strikes that knocked them unconscious during their summit push. This was an outstanding ascent.

Other ascents

In the summer of 1986, a Dutch expedition climbed a variation of the northwest ridge. This route was a shorter line in the lower section and joined the 1979 Polish route at 6,000m.

In the summer of 1997, four members of an Iranian party summited via the southwest spur.

A Piolet d’Or climb

Another successful ascent took place in 2019. World-class Japanese climbers Kazuya Hiraide and Kenro Nakajima tackled the unclimbed south face before transitioning to the southeast ridge.

Starting from their base camp at 3,660m, Hiraide and Nakajima, climbing alpine style, reached 6,800m after three days. There, they waited out bad weather and summited on July 2 in a single day. They descended to Base Camp on July 3. In 2020, they were awarded the prestigious Piolet d’Or for their climb.

The last ascent of Rakaposhi was in September 2021. Czechs Jakub Vicek and Petr Macek, and Pakistani Wajidullah Nagri summited Rakaposhi via the southwest spur. The controversial expedition did not have permits and required a helicopter rescue.

In 1985, an Austrian expedition led by Eduard Koblmuller climbed Rakaposhi’s 7,010m east peak via the north buttress. On August 1, Koblmuller, Fred Pressl, and Gerald Fellner summited in alpine style. During the two-day descent, Fellner slipped at 4,700m in bad weather. He fell 100m down an ice slope and sustained fatal injuries. Despite medical attention, he died in the night.

Rakaposhi’s climbing history shows that even after decades, new routes remain for bold climbers.

The remarkable French alpinist Chantal Mauduit would have turned 61 today, but her passion for high-altitude mountaineering led to her premature death at age 34. Here, we explore her climbs and her fatal expedition to Dhaulagiri I.

Early life

Mauduit was born in Paris on March 24, 1964. At five, she moved with her family to Chambery in the Savoie region of the French Alps. This relocation introduced her to the mountains, where she began hiking in summer and skiing in winter.

At 15, her mother passed away from cancer. Seeking solace, Mauduit turned to climbing, starting with the Alps. By 17, she had already climbed the North Face of the Grandes Jorasses, the Drus, and the Matterhorn.

In the early 1990s, Mauduit ascended the Directissime Jori Bardill route on the Central Pillar of Freney in the Mont Blanc massif with Catalan climber Ernest Blade.

In July 1992, with Blade, Araceli Segarra, and Albert Castellet, she climbed the Bonatti Pillar on the Petit Dru. They finished the famous 800m route in eight hours. One year later, Mauduit completed the Walker Spur on the Grandes Jorasses in a single day from Chamonix.

In the mid-1990s, Mauduit did the Devies-Gervasutti route on the northwest face of Ailefroide Occidentale (3,954m) in the Ecrins massif. This 1,050m line is known for its remoteness and technical difficulty.

Next, Mauduit went to the Andes. She climbed 5,495m Nevado Urus and took part in an expedition to 6,768m Huascaran. She made the Sajama Traverse in Bolivia (6,542m) and ascended Mount William in Antarctica.

Himalaya and Karakoram

Her focus then shifted to the Himalaya, where she chose to climb without supplemental oxygen.

"Climbing without oxygen is my ethics. When you use [oxygen] during an ascent, you necessarily miss very strong, very intense moments, both visually and audibly. All the senses are then heightened," she told Le Monde newspaper.

On Aug. 3, 1992, aged 28, Mauduit summited K2 via the Abruzzi Route without supplemental oxygen. She became just the fourth woman to do so.

Her descent was harrowing. A storm caught her near Camp 4 at around 8,000m, and she became snowblind. Americans Ed Viesturs and Scott Fischer -- who had struggled to scrape together enough money for their expedition -- abandoned their summit bid to save her.

Controversy

Back at Base Camp, Mauduit didn’t thank Viesturs and Fischer but instead celebrated her summit success as if the rescue had never taken place.

"So now Chantal was celebrating with the Russians. We’d hear their cheers and revelry as we [Viesturs and Fischer] lay silent in our tents. Scott and I hadn’t been invited to the party," Viesturs wrote in his book No Shortcuts to the Top.

More big peaks

In 1993, Mauduit summited Shisha Pangma and Cho Oyu without supplemental oxygen, burnishing her 8,000m reputation.

On April 28, 1996, Mauduit topped out on 7,138m Pumori. After that, she climbed two 8,000m peaks in the same season. On May 10, she climbed Lhotse and reached the top alone, leading some to question her summit success because of a lack of proof. This climb took place during the infamous 1996 Everest disaster, and Mauduit witnessed the tragedy that killed several climbers, including Scott Fischer.

Ed Viesturs told Elizabeth Hawley of The Himalayan Database that he had seen Mauduit enter into a gully and return soon after, casting doubt on her summit. Mauduit's sponsors were likely pressing hard for her to succeed after her failure one year earlier on Everest. However, the summit was officially accepted, and she became the first woman to summit Lhotse.

Two weeks after Lhotse, Mauduit summited Manaslu, topping out alone again. According to Hawley, Mauduit was accompanied by Ang Tshering Sherpa, but Ang Tshering ran out of energy on their final push on May 24. He had been breaking trail for hours in deep snow. Mauduit's summit marked her fifth 8,000’er.

Her sixth 8,000m summit came in 1997 on Gasherbrum II, again without bottled oxygen.

In the autumn of 1996, Mauduit attempted Annapurna I but aborted above high camp in bad conditions.

Seven attempts on Everest

Between 1989 and 1995, Mauduit made seven attempts on Everest without bottled oxygen. She never summited the world's highest peak.

On her last attempt in 1995, she suffered serious altitude sickness. After almost collapsing during a summit push, she was carried down by fellow climbers and needed extra oxygen. This event, like the K2 rescue, drew criticism for her reliance on others.

Mauduit always pushed very hard, but on several occasions, she started strong but ran out of energy and needed help.

Despite these incidents, Mauduit’s successful 8,000m climbs without supplemental oxygen place her among the elite of her era.

Death on Dhaulagiri I

Mauduit had already attempted Dhaulagiri I in the autumn of 1997, but she aborted above high camp. In the spring of 1998, she returned to try again.

This was her last expedition. Mauduit and 45-year-old Ang Tshering Sherpa died, possibly between May 11 and 13. Climbers found their bodies in their tent at Camp 2 (6,500m). Ten Sherpas brought her body down, and it was flown to Kathmandu and then on to France.

During a summit push, other teams on the mountain had retreated to Base Camp because of avalanche danger and bad conditions. Yet Mauduit and Ang Tshering stayed in Camp 2.

An autopsy in France confirmed the cause of death as a broken neck, likely from a rockfall or small avalanche. The Italian climbers who found her body also believed this was the most likely cause of death.

Ed Viesturs was also on Dhaulagiri that season and suggested carbon monoxide poisoning from a stove could have killed her. He reasoned that there were no clear signs of an avalanche at Camp 2.

The Italian climbers had found Mauduit and Ang Tshering's tent covered in snow. They had to dig the tent out to look inside and found the pair in their sleeping bags. This accumulated snow might have broken Mauduit’s neck, the Italians suggested. Yet Ang Tshering's neck was not broken.

Mauduit’s family and friends chose to trust the results of the autopsy.

A poetic soul

Mauduit studied physiotherapy but abandoned it for a life in the mountains, living nomadically between expeditions. She carried books by Rimbaud and Baudelaire on climbs, wrote poetry on her tent, and spoke about her experiences with lyrical depth.

In 1997, she published J’habite au Paradise (I Live in Paradise), a book blending impressions of her climbs with reflections on the cultures she encountered.

"Chantal Mauduit was a very interesting woman,” Elizabeth Hawley once wrote. "When she arrived here, she named each of her expeditions after a flower she had drawn on her tents. She was flamboyant."

Mauduit’s approach to mountaineering was unconventional. She prioritized personal experience over logistical teamwork. But her infectious optimism and comfort in the mountains earned her admiration. Viesturs wrote that everybody loved Mauduit for her happy character.

After her passing, friends and family founded the Association Chantal Mauduit Namaste, which established a school in Kathmandu, honoring her generosity toward Nepalese communities.

Below is a short video showing something of her character.

On March 22, 1966, American climber John Harlin fell 1,000m to his death on the Eiger’s North Face. He was just 600m from completing his ambitious Direttissima route. Fifty-nine years later, we look back at his career, marked by innovation and a deep connection to the Alps.

From fine arts to pilot

John Elvis Harlin II was born in Kansas City on June 30, 1935. He graduated from Sequoia High School in California and later attended Stanford University, majoring in fine arts and dress design. In the early 1950s, Harlin began climbing.

Later, he joined the U.S. Air Force where he trained as a pilot, flying jet-fighter bombers.

During his Air Force service, Harlin was stationed in Europe. In 1954, he made his first trip to the Alps. Just 19, it marked a turning point in his life. That year, he attempted the Eiger North Face by the Heckmair route but didn’t succeed. The climb began a lifelong obsession with the peak.

He married Marilyn Harlin, and they had two children: son John Harlin III and daughter Andrea Harlin. In the early 1960s, the family moved to Switzerland and Harlin immersed himself in the alpine climbing community.

First American to climb the Eiger North Face

In the summer of 1962, Harlin became the first American to climb the North Face of the Eiger. He ascended via the 1938 Hechmair Route with German climbing partner Konrad Kirch. The climb took several days and required exceptional skill and endurance.

The same year, Harlin attempted the central Pillar of Freney in the Mont Blanc Massif, a steep granite route first climbed by Chris Bonington’s team in 1961.

Other notable climbs in the Alps

In 1963, alongside American climbers Gary Hemming, Tom Frost, and Stewart Fulton, Harlin made the first ascent of the South Face of the Aiguille du Fou in the Mont Blanc massif. This climb was a technical masterpiece, involving steep rock and ice.

In 1964, Harlin, Chris Bonington, and Rusty Baillie climbed the northeast ridge of Cime de l’Est in the Dents du Midi in the Valais region of Switzerland.

In 1965, Harlin and Royal Robbins made the first ascent of the American Direct route on the West Face of the Aiguille du Dru, a steep and committed line that demanded advanced rock and ice skills.

In June 1963, Harlin became the Director of Sports at the American School in Leysin, Switzerland. He also founded the International School of Modern Mountaineering.

Locally, Harlin earned the nickname Blond God. He was an excellent athlete, a member of the all-American Services football team, and, when younger, the junior wrestling champion of California.

Return to the Eiger

In the 1930s, many viewed the Eiger North Face as a crazy objective.

"The forcing of the Eigerwand [North Face] is principally a matter of luck, at least 90% of the latter is required," Dr. Hug, a Swiss member of the Alpine Club, said at the time. "Extreme forms of technical development, a fanatical disregard of death, staying power, and bodily toughness are, in this case, details of merely secondary importance."

Colonel Strutt, the retiring President of the Alpine Club, agreed. "The Eigerwand continues to be an obsession for the mentally deranged of almost every nation. He who first succeeds may rest assured that he has accomplished the most imbecile variant since mountaineering first began," Strutt said in his farewell address.

The North Face of the Eiger, rising 1,800m from its base to the summit at 3,967m, is notorious for its steepness, loose rock, and deadly weather. But it was finally ascended for the first time in 1938 by a four-man team that included Anderl Heckmair and Ludwig Vorg from Germany and Heinrich Harrer and Fritz Kasparek from Austria. The Heckmair route features ice fields, rock bands, and high exposure.

A German-Austrian party that included Toni Hiebeler, Walter Almberger, Anderl Mannhardt, and Toni Kinshofer made the first winter ascent of the Heckmair route in March 1961.

One year after his initial ascent of Eiger’s North Face in 1962, Harlin started to think about a direct line up the face.

The team

Harlin made several reconnaissance climbs on the North Face. Finally, in February 1966, he organized a strong team. The group featured Colorado rock specialist Layton Kor (famed for his big-wall climbs in Yosemite), Scotsman Dougal Haston (known for Scottish winter ascents and prior Eiger climbs), experienced UK alpinist Chris Bonington, and Don Whillans in support. Don Whillans later withdrew from the expedition after a disagreement with the team.

In early February, Harlin’s party headed to Kleine Scheidegg, where journalist Peter Gillman would report on the ascent.

There had been rumors that a German team had their eyes on the same objective. At Kleine Scheidegg, it became clear that the teams would be rivals, with both keen to be the first to finish a direct line on the North Face.

The German team included leader Jorg Lehne, Gunter Strobel, Klaus Huba, Sigi Hupfauer, Karl Golikow, Rolf Rosenzopf, Gunther Schnaidt, and Peter Haag.

Harlin’s party aimed for an alpine-style dash, weather permitting, while the Germans planned a relentless ascent with fixed ropes, regardless of conditions.

Starting the climb

Both teams began on Feb. 2, 1966, establishing base camps near Kleine Scheidegg.

The Germans fixed ropes systematically and advanced higher each day. Harlin’s smaller team pushed when the weather allowed, often climbing parallel to the Germans.

Both teams faced brutal winter storms, sub-zero temperatures, and frequent snowfall. Additionally, there was the danger from the North Face itself, offering exposure to rockfall and avalanches.

By mid-March, both parties had fixed ropes up to around 3,400m. Around March 15, after weeks of rivalry, the teams began sharing ropes and bivouac sites, prompted by harsh conditions and mutual respect. Harlin and Lehne negotiated a loose alliance, though separate summit pushes remained the goal.

The fall

On March 22 at around 10:00 am, Harlin was ascending a fixed rope alone. He was on his way to join the others, approximately 610m below the summit, at 3,360m. But the 7mm rope snapped, likely because of wear, ice damage, or rockfall. Gillman, who was at Kleine Scheidegg watching the climbers with a telescope, saw Harlin fall 1,000m to his death.

The British-American team was devastated. Kor descended soon after, effectively leaving the climb. Haston and Bonington stayed, determined to finish.

The Germans, higher on the face when the accident occurred, learned of Harlin’s death by radio and offered support. The tragedy catalyzed a full merger of the two teams, and they would now go for the summit together.

The John Harlin Direct

On March 25 at 2:30 pm, Haston, Lehne, Strobel, Hupfauer, and Huba reached the summit after a final 200m push. A storm hit the mountain after they summited, forcing a grueling descent via the West Flank, completed over two days.

The climbers, some suffering serious frostbite, named the line The John Harlin Route.

"When John Harlin fell to his death from the Eiger on March 22, 1966, the world of mountaineering lost one of its brightest stars. In the not quite thirty-one years of his life, Harlin had forged a career that was unique in ambition and achievement," James Ramsey Ullman wrote in the American Alpine Journal.

For further details on Harlin and the 1966 climb, we recommend reading Eiger Direct by Peter Gillman and Dougal Haston.

Mount Waddington, an infrequently climbed peak in British Columbia’s rugged Coast Mountains, was initially known as the Mystery Mountain because of its remoteness. This is the story of early expeditions to this fortress of ice and stone.

Hard to reach

At 4,019m, Mount Waddington is the highest mountain entirely within the Canadian province of British Columbia. Taller peaks, such as Mount Fairweather and Mount Quincy Adams, lie on the British Columbia–Alaska border.

Approximately 300km northwest of Vancouver, Mount Waddington is surrounded by deep valleys and glaciers. Even approaching it is a great adventure over extreme terrain, ice fields, and difficult peaks. Early explorers often compared the area to the Himalaya, and many films set in the Himalaya were filmed in the Waddington Range.

Discovery

Don and Phyllis Munday were a renowned Canadian mountaineering couple with experience in the Pacific Northwest, Rockies, Selkirks, and the Coast Mountains. Between the 1920s and the 1940s, the Mundays climbed more than 150 peaks, with over 40 first ascents. In 1924, Phyllis became the first woman to summit 3,954m Mount Robson, the highest peak in the Canadian Rockies. She climbed with Annette Buck, and Don Munday also summited.

In 1925, Don and Phyllis Munday spotted a huge peak from Mount Arrowsmith on Vancouver Island. It is unclear if this was Mount Waddington, but their observation sparked exploration of the Waddington Range. The Mundays were the ones who dubbed that distant peak Mystery Mountain.

Authorities officially named Mount Waddington in 1928, following the recommendation of the Mundays. Alfred Waddington was an industrialist who advocated for a road and railway through the region.

The Mundays' attempts

For over a decade, the Mundays made several attempts to climb Mount Waddington, the most important of which was their 1928 expedition.

The couple began from the Franklin Glacier on the southwest side and ascended via the northwest ridge. On July 8, they reached the lower northwest summit at around 4,000m. There, they concluded that reaching the main summit would be too dangerous.

Tragedy in 1934

In the summer of 1934, a party from British Columbia, including Neal Carter, Alan Lambert, Alec Dalgleish, and Eric Brooks, likewise approached the mountain via the Franklin Glacier. They targeted a couloir on the south face leading toward the southeast ridge.

They reached 3,700m, but the expedition was called off after Dalgleish fell to his death on June 26. The accident happened only three days after they had established base camp.

Other attempts

In the same year, a Winnipeg-based team attempted to ascend via the Tiedemann Glacier and the northwestern flank. The party turned around 180m below the summit because of bad weather on June 28, 1934.

In 1935, climbers from California made three attempts from base camp at Dais Glacier, including two tries via the South Face. They failed to summit because of bad weather and technical difficulties. Their highest point was around 3,500m. During a third attempt, two climbers reached the northwest summit, first climbed by the Mundays in 1928.

According to climber Fred Beckey, there were 16 attempts on Mount Waddington before its first ascent. However, Beckey didn’t list all 16 attempts in his writings.

Fritz Wiessner and his small team

In the spring of 1935, alpinists Bill House, Elizabeth Woolsey, and Alan Wilcox started to plan an expedition to the Coast Range. A year later, German-American Fritz Wiessner joined the trio and led the small team to attempt the still-unclimbed Waddington in the summer of 1936.

Wiessner’s team learned that the British Columbia Mountaineering Club (BCMC) and the Sierra Club of California had joined forces. As a combined party, they were planning to climb Mount Waddington at around the same time.

According to Bill House’s report in the American Alpine Journal, after a meeting between the leaders of both groups, they agreed that the mountaineering clubs would attempt the climb first. Both teams targeted the South Face, with the BCMC-Sierra Club team setting up base camp at Icefall Point on the Dais Glacier.

The BCMC-Sierra Club team did not succeed. They couldn’t find a viable route up the face on difficult terrain.

The South Face

The South Face, broken up by three couloirs, is known for poor route conditions and falling ice. An 800m granite wall of complex rock, snow patches, narrow couloirs, and mixed icy sections complicate the climb.

After a challenging approach via the Franklin Glacier, Wiessner’s team established their base camp on July 14, 1936. Like the BCMC-Sierra Club team, they chose Icefall Point (1,787m) on the upper Dais Glacier. Icefall Point is a spur of heather-covered rock. According to House, it’s the last place where a party can find firewood and running water.

Woolsey and Wilcox helped carry loads to camp but wouldn’t join the summit push.

On July 20, Wiessner and House started up via the left branch of a couloir between the main summit and the northwest peak. They eventually retreated because of poor rock conditions.

So instead, they then headed to the right of the South Face. By 2:45 am on July 21, Wiessner and House were on their way toward the summit from their high camp. They climbed the 305m upper section of ”forbidding-looking” rock in 13 hours.

The summit

On July 21, Wiessner and House topped out.

”It is a hopeless task, as every mountaineer knows, to try to do justice to one’s feelings at the summit of a difficult peak. Probably relief is the most dominant one at the time,” House recalled.

On the top, they left a summit register in a waterproof match can. Wiessner and House descended by the same route and reached base camp on July 22 at 2:00 am. Their round trip took just over 23 hours.

It was a lightweight, alpine-style ascent using minimal, rudimentary gear (18 pitons). This contrasted with earlier expeditions, which tended to be large, complex affairs.

Wiessner and House demonstrated that the ”unclimbable” could be climbed. The 1936 first ascent marked the culmination of years of exploration and ticked off one of the last major unclimbed summits in North America.

Two teens target Mount Waddington

In 1942, six years after the first ascent, 19-year-old Fred Beckey and his 16-year-old brother Helmy Beckey decided to climb Mount Waddington's South Face. With World War II underway, resources were few, and the Beckey brothers had no sponsors or porters, only their parents’ vague approval.

"Long behind seemed the months of preparation, conditioning climbs, and first ascents made in the Northern Cascades of Washington in June,” Fred Beckey wrote.

With climber Eric Larsson, the brothers started their multi-stage journey from Seattle. Traveling via bus to Vancouver, then steamship to Knight Inlet, and finally via a smaller boat to the Franklin River delta, they approached overland on foot.

After several days of travel from the coast, they reached the Franklin Glacier. Crossing required 32km of unsupported glacier travel. The approach added more than 2,000 vertical meters and weeks of effort to their adventure.

On the second day on the Franklin Glacier, Larsson fell ill and had to quit. The Beckey brothers continued and established base camp on the glacier below Waddington’s southwest face on July 20.

The ascent

The brothers decided to attempt the South Face route slightly to the right of the chimney climbed by Wiessner and House.

They traversed the glacier, navigating crevasses and icefalls to reach the base of the face. They carried minimal gear and moved in a lightweight style. Then they climbed to a higher camp to position themselves for a summit push. That process took a couple of days in complex terrain and worsening weather. When conditions allowed, they moved up quickly.

On the upper face, Fred Beckey changed to tennis shoes with felt pullovers to mount the rock slabs.

"The pullovers adhered well to the rock when wet and could be removed quickly for more friction on dry rock," Fred Beckey wrote in his report. (The term ”pullover’ refers to an improvised covering for the shoes.)

As they climbed, ice fragments broke off the summit ridge and thundered down the chimneys to their left.

On August 8 at 8:30 pm, Fred and Helmy Beckey topped out on the main summit. It was one day after Helmy’s 17th birthday. On the summit, they found Wiessner and House’s match-can register. It was the second ascent of the mountain.

During the descent, Helmy was hit on the knee by a rock as they descended into the gap between the northwest and the main peaks.

"This was Helmy’s birthday present, donated by Mount Waddington,” Fred said. ”Any hope of reaching camp that night was gone because of a heavily bleeding cut.”

The next day, they continued their descent and reached base camp.

Legacy

The Beckey brothers' feat was outstanding. Fred continued his climbing career and made hundreds of first ascents in North America. He also wrote a dozen books, hundreds of climbing reports, and several climbing guides. He dedicated his life to mountaineering and died at 94.

Colin Haley, who in 2012 made the first solo ascent of Mount Waddington, wrote about Fred Beckey for the American Alpine Journal:

"Fred was without a doubt the most accomplished climber ever to come out of North America and is among the all-time greats, right alongside figures such as Riccardo Cassin, Hermann Buhl, Lionel Terray, Walter Bonatti, and Reinhold Messner."

In 1996, Fred Beckey, John Middendorf, and Calvin Herbert made the first ascent of a peak in the Cathedral Mountains in Alaska. They named it Mount Beckey.

We recommend watching the documentary Dirtbag: The Legend of Fred Beckey, by Dave O’Leske.

In 1967, Mount McKinley (Denali) witnessed two pivotal moments in mountaineering history.

In Part I of this series, we told the story of McKinley’s first winter ascent. Later that same year, during the summer season, the mountain saw one of the worst tragedies ever on a North American peak. This is the story of the 1967 summer season on McKinley.

(Writer’s note: Following the Associated Press style guide, I will use the name McKinley in these pieces.)

A record number of ascents

In 1967, 10 expeditions attempted Mount McKinley, making it the most successful year on record. Almost all of the expeditions' members topped out.

In summer, two teams aimed to summit via the remote Muldrow Glacier route, first ascended by the McKinley pioneers in 1913. The Muldrow Glacier route is considered more difficult than the West Buttress route for logistical and technical reasons.

The route begins on the north side of McKinley and requires a 63km trek from Wonder Lake to the base of the glacier. From the base near McGonagall Pass at 1,750m, climbers gain 4,440m to McKinley’s summit at 6,190m. The Muldrow Glacier features complex glacier travel in heavily crevassed terrain, usually requiring constant roped navigation.

The key section of the route, Karstens Ridge is a narrow, exposed ridge that joins the Harper Glacier, adding more crevasse hazards. The ridge is also particularly vulnerable to high winds. Unsurprisingly, the 1951 West Buttress route became the common route up McKinley rather than the tricky Muldrow Glacier-Karstens line.

Wilcox expedition

The Wilcox expedition, led by 24-year-old Joe Wilcox from Utah, was the first of the two teams attempting the Muldrow Glacier route. He looked for climbers to join him via climbing newsletters. His party eventually included nine members: Wilcox, Jerry Clark, Steve Taylor, Dennis Luchterhand, Mark McLaughlin, Anshel Schiff, Hank Janes, John Russell, and Walt Taylor.

It was a young group, with everyone between 22 and 31 years old. Most came from the Pacific Northwest. They all had basic mountaineering skills but hadn’t climbed higher than 4,550m.

Colorado expedition

Howard Snyder, 22, led the Colorado expedition, the second team on that route. With Snyder were Jerry Lewis, Steve Lewis (Jerry’s brother), and Paul Schlichter.

Like the Wilcox group, this was a young team. However, Snyder and his partners had more mountaineering experience and had climbed at higher altitudes.

Just before their departure on June 21, the team was reduced to three when Steve Lewis broke his arm in a car accident.

The National Park Service (NPS) was skeptical about the Wilcox expedition because of its limited high-altitude experience. They suggested Wilcox merge his group with Snyder’s party. Thankfully, this also suited Snyder because NPS rules stated there should be at least four members in an expedition group. The merger occurred on June 22, and Wilcox took command of the 12-person team.

July 16: the key day

The merged group started their trek in from Wonder Lake. In early July, the climbers made steady progress, establishing camps and ferrying supplies. Most of them experienced altitude sickness but tried to adapt. By July 13, the group had set up camp on the Harper Glacier.

On July 15, Wilcox, Snyder, Schlichter, and Lewis started a summit push from their high camp at 5,456m. They reached the summit at 6:30 pm in good weather, with a clear sky and light winds. After spending over an hour on top, they descended to high camp by 9:50 pm.

On July 16, all 12 members were at high camp when 113kph winds picked up, forcing everybody to remain at camp. This temporarily stalled plans for a second summit push by Clark, Luchterhand, McLaughlin, Janes, Russell, and the two Taylors.

The second summit bid

Park rangers reportedly warned Wilcox of an approaching storm. They projected it would hit around July 16 or 17, but the group continued with their summit plan, perhaps underestimating the storm's severity.

On July 17, the second group, led by the 31-year-old Clark, went for the summit. The group that had summited two days earlier descended to a lower camp at 4,572m.

The wind had subsided as Clark and company set off. Steve Taylor remained at high camp because of altitude sickness. That night, strong winds started on the upper slopes. The summit group stopped to bivouac, hoping for better weather the next morning.

On July 18, at 11:30 am, Clark radioed to say that he, McLaughlin, Walt Taylor, Janes, and Luchterhand had topped out in a whiteout. John Russell's situation was unclear; he didn’t summit and might have turned back during the push.

Clark said that they would start to descend in 10 minutes. They never radioed again.

The biggest storm in 100 years

The storm kept getting worse. A high-pressure system from the south clashed with a moist low-pressure system from the north, creating the biggest storm ever recorded on the mountain. It would last seven days, to July 25.

Near the summit, the wind was 160–240kph, with still-air temperatures of -26ºC.

Those below the summit, on the upper section of McKinley, were trapped. The other members, who had already descended from their summit bid, spent the seven-day storm at a lower camp. They tried to stay warm by huddling together.

The seven climbers higher up had no chance of survival. Jerry Clark (31), Steve Taylor (22), Dennis Luchterhand (24), Mark McLaughlin (23), Hank Janes (25), John Russell (23), and Walt Taylor (24) all died. The five climbers at the lower camp made it down alive after the storm ended.

Several days after the storm, two bodies were found at Archdeacon’s Tower below the summit. The NPS located another body at high camp holding a tent pole. Their bodies could not be identified because of decomposition. The other four climbers were never located.

The three bodies were left on the mountain. In 1968, an expedition tried to find the victims but found no remains.

Conclusions

The original Wilcox team had no proper high-altitude experience. Experienced alpinists might have better gauged the risk or built snow caves.

Another problem could be that the team divided on the mountain after the first summit on July 15. This split the stronger climbers (who had already summited) from the less experienced climbers.

Later, Snyder criticized Wilcox for this split. Wilcox defended the split as a chance for everyone to summit, but Snyder argued that it weakened the team’s ability to respond as a unit. As a merged group, the team lacked cohesion.

The rangers’ warning about bad weather is also key. Wilcox claimed the notice he received was vague and didn't mention how fierce the storm would be.

The tragedy was the result of an extraordinary natural event and human decisions that amplified the risk. Seven relentless days caused exhaustion and hypothermia. National Weather Services later called the storm a once-in-century event. Possibly no team, regardless of skill, could have faced it effectively high on the mountain.

This was less about gross negligence and more about the limits of human judgment against nature’s extremes. McKinley's power was unforgiving.

Comparing the 1967 winter and summer expeditions

It is interesting to compare this summer expedition with McKinley's first winter ascent from February of the same year. Gregg Blomberg’s winter party had much more experience and enough collective knowledge to handle extreme conditions.

The winter team's decision to construct an ice cave below the summit was pivotal. The small cave was an important shelter that protected them from the worst of the wind. However, the July hurricane was much stronger than the February storm.

Mental strength is another important factor in a week-long hurricane at high altitude, in subzero temperatures, with frostbite setting in. Only strong mountaineers are capable of thinking clearly in these circumstances. Most people without experience on high mountains simply can’t react as assertively.

Luck

Luck also plays a major part. It was pure chance that the storm arrived during the July team's most exposed moment. Weather forecasting in 1967 could not predict its exact onset, and the rangers’ warning didn’t pinpoint the critical hours. The five who summited earlier, on July 15, were lucky to have made it to the top. By making it down in time to a lower camp, they missed the worst days.

However, it’s important to listen to the mountain and retreat when there are signs of changing weather. The key day was when all 12 members were at high camp, trapped by the weather, with the July 15 summiters unable to descend and the rest of the team unable to ascend.

Aftermath

The 1967 tragedy led Denali National Park to modify climbing protocols, including requiring parties to register in advance, document their mountaineering experience and readiness, carry two-way radios, and contact park officials when the climb is over.

In 1967, Mount McKinley (Denali) witnessed two pivotal moments in mountaineering history.

In February, a group of climbers embarked on a grueling quest for the first-ever winter summit. Five months later, a sudden, violent storm tested another team, resulting in one of the worst tragedies ever on a North American peak.

In this two-part series, we revisit these two 1967 expeditions. This is Part I, the story of McKinley's first winter ascent.

(Writer’s note: Following the Associated Press style guide, I will use the name McKinley in these pieces.)

McKinley's first ascent

North America’s highest peak, McKinley (6,190m) is located within the Alaska Range in Denali National Park.

It was first summited on June 7, 1913, by a team led by Hudson Stuck and Harry Karstens. Walter Harper and Robert Tatum were key team members. Harper, a young Athabascan climber, first stepped onto the summit. Harper insisted on calling the mountain Denali.

The first summiters followed the Muldrow Glacier route, approaching from the northeast and continuing along Karstens Ridge and the Harper Glacier (both named later).

First ascent of the West Buttress

A team led by Bradford Washburn made the first ascent of the West Buttress route on June 17, 1951. This expedition marked a significant milestone, as the West Buttress became the most popular and accessible route to the summit.

Washburn had explored and photographed the route in the 1940s, identifying the West Buttress as a less technical alternative to the Muldrow Glacier. It required mostly snow and ice climbing but was still challenging because of crevasses and weather risks.

The West Buttress route approaches the mountain from the southeast, starting by landing on the Kahiltna Glacier in a small bush plane. The key features are the West Buttress ridge, Windy Corner, and the upper slopes near Denali Pass.

By the end of 1966, McKinley was still unclimbed in winter.

The 1967 team

In 1965, Art Davidson and Shiro Nishimae from the Osaka Alpine Club began to explore the idea of a McKinley winter attempt.

The Winter 1967 Mount McKinley Expedition consisted of eight climbers: U.S. climbers Gregg Blomberg (leader), Art Davidson, Dave Johnston, John Edwards, and George Wichman, Shiro Nishimae of Japan, Ray Genet of Switzerland, and Jacques Batkin of France.

Many climbers of the era believed a winter climb of McKinley was impossible. But these eight mountaineers relished the idea of facing the cold, lack of light, storms, and bad weather.

Pilot Don Sheldon dropped them on the southeast fork of the Kahiltna Glacier on Jan. 29, 1967.

Starting in good spirits

The climbers would face the West Buttress route. "[We felt] that the lack of technical difficulty would be compensated for by the weather," Blomberg recalled in his report for the American Alpine Journal.

It’s important to note that the route certainly isn’t easy. The elevation gain from base camp to the summit is more than on most 8,000m peaks.

Blomberg’s party started the climb unroped on the flat open expanse of the Kahiltna Glacier. They would resort to roping up when conditions warranted it.

The team atmosphere was great from the beginning.

"The darkness of our first night was no match for the intense happiness and comradeship inside the tent," Blomberg wrote. "Our laughter spilled out onto the snow with the light of the Coleman lanterns. The jabber of the group in their many accents was music to my ears."

Tragedy strikes

Progressing toward one of their first camps, each climber kept his own pace. In a moment, Davidson fell into a crevasse. Fortunately, he was unhurt.

"The small hole my body had punched in the surface of the glacier was the only indication that a crevasse, probably a whole system of crevasses, sprawled before me," Davidson wrote.

On January 31, tragedy struck. While part of the team reached their new campsite and started to set up, they realized that Batkin had disappeared. Batkin had been carrying a load to camp when he fell into the same crevasse that Davidson had narrowly escaped earlier.

The team tried to help Batkin, but he had died in the fall, and several resuscitation attempts failed.

"That evening, there were seven of us in the two tents, yet how very alone each of us felt," Blomberg wrote.

The team was about to quit the expedition. However, after meditating, they wrote a press release as follows: "Jacques Batkin died in the pursuit of a winter ascent in which he truly believed. We will continue the attempt with his spirit and presence very much in mind."

Progressing on the route

Later, Edwards also had a close call when he fell into a crevasse in an area they considered safe. Fortunately, he was tied to one of his partners, and the rope caught him.

After a few stormy days, they had more than a week of good weather and established Camp 3: a three-unit igloo-plex below the Kahiltna Pass at about 3,000m. Kahiltna Pass marks a key milestone; it is often where teams establish an early camp and is a transitional point on the West Buttress route between the lower glacier and upper basin.

By the end of the eight days of good weather, the party had set up Camp 5 at about 4,300m. At this camp below the West Buttress, the climbers built two igloos almost entirely above the snow, with entrances below floor level. Because Camp 5 lies in a south-facing basin, it receives the brief but beautiful winter sun.

Over the next two days, they had to wait out the poor weather before continuing. The climbers progressed gradually and reached 5,240m. There, they established their highest camp. First, they used a tent, and later, they dug a snow cave into almost rock-hard snow. This camp would be key when returning from the summit.

Denali Pass

On February 26, the climbers left Camp 5. From the ridge, they ascended to Denali Pass at around 5,547m. It is a high, exposed col, situated between McKinley’s main summit and the slightly lower South Summit.

Above Denali Pass, they saw that McKinley’s summit had clouded over, and 300m below, they stopped to discuss their options. The climbers decided to descend. But the weather tricked them. As soon as they reached their high camp, the peak cleared.

The next day, the five climbers set off again. After reaching Denali Pass, Nishimae and Blomberg prepared a bivy site for the others and returned to high camp.

Summit

Davidson, Genet, and Johnston topped out on February 28 at about 7 pm. The three climbers grabbed each other in a three-way hug and shouted: "We made it!"

"We have looked forward to the view from the summit, but there was only darkness in every direction," Davidson said.

Before descending, they hollowed out a hole in the snow and buried Batkin’s hat in tribute.

More trouble

By midnight, Davidson, Genet, and Johnston reached Denali Pass. There, they carved a small cave into the mountainside for shelter as the weather deteriorated. It was the beginning of a seven-day ordeal as they waited out a violent storm.

By now, the expedition was split. Blomberg, Nishimae, Edwards, and Wichman were at 5,240m and had no way to communicate with the three summit climbers.

On March 1, Blomberg and Nishimae tried to reach Davidson, Genet, and Johnston but could not progress far in the hurricane-strength winds.

"The fury of the storm made it suicide to go further," Blomberg recalled.

There was no option but to keep faith that the storm would eventually weaken. For now, both groups were trapped.

Recipe for survival

There is no concrete recipe for how to survive a storm at altitude. Davidson, Genet, and Johnston's only sustenance was courage and determination.

"We were exultant, not from any sense of conquering the wind, but rather from the simple companionship of huddling together in our little cave while outside in the darkness, the storm raged through Denali Pass and on across the Alaska Range," Davidson said.

For the three trapped climbers, the low air temperature outside their cave combined with the intense wind to create a windchill equivalent of -100ºC. Fatigue and frostbite took hold, and they were about to run out of food.

Descent

On the fourth day, Blomberg and Edwards began their descent from high camp. They hoped to get a helicopter back to the Pass at the first opportunity. The two climbers reached Camp 5 on March 5 and later arrived at Base Camp and radioed out. Meanwhile, a whole series of rescue operations began.

After a week, the storm had finally stopped, and on March 7, an army plane sighted three climbers descending Denali Pass. Davidson, Genet, and Johnston were alive.

The three spent the night at Camp 5. The next day, military helicopters plucked them from the peak, along with Edwards and Blomberg, and flew them to Talkeetna. Rescuers also picked up Nishimae and Wichman from Camp 3 on March 9.

Aftermath

Genet became an important figure in the development of commercial expeditions to McKinley. But he died on Everest on Oct. 3, 1979, while descending from the summit with a client. Both died of exposure, exhaustion, and frostbite.

On June 21, 1991, Genet's son, 12-year-old Taras Genet, became the youngest person to summit McKinley.

Ten years later, on June 17, 2001, Galen Johnston, son of Dave Johnston, summited McKinley at age 11 with his parents. He still holds the record for the youngest person to summit McKinley.

Art Davidson has written an account of this expedition called Minus 148 - The First Winter Ascent of Mount McKinley, which is well worth reading.

We will publish Part II tomorrow.

Many people associate Noel Odell’s name with George Mallory and Andrew Irvine on Everest in 1924 because he was the last person to see them alive. That expedition became the most famous mystery in mountaineering history, with Odell’s testimony a key feature.

Odell’s other expeditions are less well-known, but he was a tireless explorer and climber who did his last ascent at the age of 93.

Geology and first climbs

Odell was born on Dec. 25, 1890, on the Isle of Wight, off the southern coast of Britain. Odell became interested in geology as a teen, attended Brighton College, and then studied geology at the Royal School of Mines.

In the early 1910s, before the war, Odell started to develop his climbing skills in North Wales. In 1916, at 25, Odell joined the Alpine Club and started to test himself in the Alps.

In 1919, Odell carried out the first ascent of the Tennis Shoe route (HS 4b) on the Idwal Slabs in Snowdonia, Wales. Odell boldly soloed this now-classic multi-pitch trad route, which stretches 141m up the south-facing slabs in the Ogwen Valley, with minimal gear. This milestone demonstrated excellent climbing skills.

Over time, as other climbers repeated Odell’s line, they started to call it the Tennis Shoe. This is because the route relied on friction and the grippy nature of the Idwal Slabs’ rock. Climbers at the time often wore canvas shoes with rubber soles, similar to old-school tennis shoes.

Spitsbergen, 1921

In the summer of 1921, Odell joined the Oxford University Spitsbergen Expedition, led by noted ornithologist Francis Charles Robert Jourdain. Its members included Tom Longstaff and Julian Huxley (brother of the famous writer Aldous Huxley). They aimed to complete a biological survey, with particular emphasis on the bird life of  Svalbard.

As a secondary goal, they attempted to sled across the central ice cap but only reached halfway because of delays and illness.

Odell contributed both as a geologist and as a key member of the sledding party. He was tasked with studying geological features, collecting rock samples, and analyzing the region’s tectonic and glacial history. During their ice cap crossing, Odell showed his endurance.

The 30-year-old also had a growing reputation as a climber.

Irvine and Odell’s first encounter

Odell first met Andrew Irvine in 1919 on Foel Grach, a 975m Welsh peak. That day, Odell and his wife Mona were ascending the mountain when they spotted a teenager riding his motorcycle to the summit. It was Irvine. Irvine’s bold and unconventional spirit impressed Odell.

Their paths crossed again two years later. In the summer of 1923, Odell and Irvine joined another Spitsbergen adventure: the Merton College Arctic Expedition led by Arctic explorer Frederick George Binney.

Odell realizes Irvine’s strength

During the 1923 Spitsbergen expedition, Odell was struck by Irvine’s remarkable strength and endurance and how well he handled challenging tasks. Odell later recommended Irvine for the 1924 Everest expedition despite Irvine’s lack of high-altitude experience.

Everest 1924

Odell was the oxygen officer for the 1924 British Everest expedition.

On June 8, Odell was ascending the mountain in support of teammates Irvine and Mallory. At around 7,925m, near Camp VI, he caught sight of two tiny figures on the ridge near the summit. The figures were moving up.

This was the last confirmed sighting of Mallory and Irvine, who vanished soon afterward.

Odell spent 11 nights above 7,000m without supplemental oxygen. Twice, he climbed above 8,200m trying to find his partners.

Odell also found limestone containing fossils from the upper part of Everest, at around 7,770m. These were the first fossils identified on Everest. He later wrote about his findings, noting that Everest’s summit region was once part of an ancient ocean floor, uplifted over millions of years by tectonic forces.

First ascents

From 1928 to 1930, Odell taught geology at Harvard University. He proved a great inspiration to the recently formed Harvard Mountaineering Club.

During his time at Harvard, Odell climbed the ice gully in Huntington Ravine on Mount Washington in winter. The gully was named Odell Gully.

In the summer of 1930, Odell went to Canada. He climbed in the Selkirk Mountains and later, with C.G. Crawford and Terris Moore, made the first ascent of Mount Robson's difficult and technical south-southwest ridge.

Labrador and Greenland

In 1931, he joined Alexander Forbes' American expedition to northern Labrador. They aimed mainly to map the area by air, but Odell also made several first ascents in the Torngat Mountains, including Mount Tetragona and Mount Razorback. Rising up to 1,652m, the rugged Torngats have the highest peaks in mainland Canada and the U.S. east of the Rockies.

In 1933, Odell was a member of an American scientific expedition to Northeast Greenland. There, with Walter A. Wood, he made 10 first ascents near Franz Josef Fiord and also the second ascent of Berenberg on Jan Mayen Island.

Nanda Devi

Odell's most important Himalayan expedition was to India's 7,816m Nanda Devi, the ”Blessed Goddess.” This peak is considered one of the most beautiful mountains in the world.

In 1905, Tom Longstaff and the Brocherel brothers attempted Nanda Devi from the east, but they did not succeed. There were a few more attempts, but by the beginning of 1936, the mountain was still unclimbed.

In the summer of 1936, Odell joined Charles Houston's British-American Himalaya Expedition to Nanda Devi.

"God! It’s good to be back," Odell exclaimed during the approach trek.

"Odell was accompanied by a great number of scientific instruments whose name I do not know and whose purpose I could not guess," Houston wrote.

On August 29, Bill Tilman and Odell made the first ascent of the main peak of Nanda Devi via the southwest ridge.

According to mountaineer Eric Shipton, this was one of the most important climbs of the era. Odell and Tilman reached the top in good style and without bottled oxygen. Until Annapurna I’s first ascent in 1950, Nanda Devi was the highest mountain ever summited.

Two years after his ascent of Nanda Devi, Odell returned to Everest. Odell reached 7,000m without bottled oxygen.

The first ascent of Mount Vancouver

During the late 1940s and early to mid-1950s, Odell’s mountaineering shifted to North America. He climbed in the Rockies, the Yukon, and Alaska.

In 1947, Odell climbed in the Canadian Rockies. In 1949, Odell went to the Saint Elias Mountains on the Alaska-Canadian border as part of a geological expedition called Project Snow Cornice.

Odell (then 58 years old) and American climbers William Hainsworth, Robert McCarter, and Alan Bruce-Robertson made the first ascent of 4,810m Mount Vancouver. At the time, Mount Vancouver was the highest unclimbed peak in North America.

Between 1950 and 1956, Odell was a professor of Geology at the University of Otago in New Zealand. During this time, he made several climbs in the Southern Alps.

Mountaineering clubs

Odell was a member of the Alpine Club and was elected vice president in 1945. He was also with the Himalayan Club and was an honorary member of the American Alpine Club, the Canadian Alpine Club, the New Zealand Alpine Club, and the Norsk Tinder Klub.

He served in the Royal Engineers and later worked for various oil and mining companies. But he continued to climb for his whole life. His last excursion was on the 125th anniversary of the founding of the Swiss Alpine Club when Odell was 93 years old.

Just a few days before his death on Feb. 21, 1987, he attended a memorial organized for Don Whillans at the Royal Geographic Society.

A modest but important mountaineer

As the American Alpine Journal points out, Odell never sought fame. He was more interested in others’ activities than talking about his own.

"He was a gentleman. Generous, mild, modest, and seldom ruffled or angry. He was a lovely companion, never bloody-minded or out of sorts, even when his companions were impatient with his deliberate pace. Although he had a grand store of reminiscences and anecdotes, he was never boring. He was a joy to be with and a loss to generations who may never know someone like him," Charles Houston wrote of Odell.

Today, British mountaineer Alison Hargreaves would have turned 63. Hargreaves dedicated her life to climbing but died too early, in the 1995 K2 tragedy.

Hargreaves was born in Derbyshire, England, on Feb. 17, 1962. Her parents were avid hikers, and the Hargreaves family often spent time walking in England and Scotland. At nine, Alison climbed Ben Nevis. At 13, she started rock climbing.

Hargreaves left home at 18 and moved in with her boyfriend, Jim Ballard, whom she later married. Ballard also loved climbing and took a job selling mountaineering equipment. The couple had two kids: Tom (born in 1988) and Kate (born in 1991).

In 1984, when Hargreaves sent in her application to the Alpine Club, she already had extensive experience in the Alps.

New route on Kangtega

In the spring of 1986, Hargreaves took part in the Kangtega-Nuptse Expedition, a joint U.S.-UK party led by Jeff Lowe.

Kangtega (6,783m) is located in the Khumbu Himal, southwest of Ama Dablam. David Dornan, Tom Frost, Michael Gill, and Jim Wilson -- members of an international team led by Edmund Hillary -- made the first ascent on June 5, 1963 via the southeast face.

By the end of 1985, 15 climbers from four different teams had topped out on Kangtega. A Japanese team had summited in 1979 via the north face, a Catalan team had topped out in 1984 via the southeast face, and a South Korean team climbed the southwest face-south ridge route in 1985.

Lowe’s 1986 team chose a new route on the right side of Kangtega’s northwest face. The expedition consisted of six members: Jeff Lowe, Alison Hargreaves, Tom Frost, Henry Kendall, Bruce Roghaar, and Mark Twight.

On May 1, Hargreaves and Twight reached the summit after successfully ascending the steep, icy northwest face. They descended by the northeast couloir. Hargreaves was the first Brit to summit Kangtega.

In the autumn of 1987, Hargreaves attempted Ama Dablam, reaching 5,700m.

Eiger: pregnant, not sick

Hargreaves made several great climbs in the European Alps. After Kangtega, she went back to the Alps in 1988 and climbed the North Face of the Eiger while six months pregnant with her first child. After the climb, she received criticism.

"I was pregnant, not sick," Hargreaves responded

Ballard realized his wife possessed extraordinary skills and determination, and the couple sold their house to move to Switzerland.

Soloing the six classic North Faces of the Alps

In 1993, Hargreaves became the first climber to solo the six classic North Faces of the Alps in one season: the Eiger, Matterhorn, Petit Dru, Piz Badile, Grandes Jorasses, and Cima Grande di Lavaredo.

She was the first woman to solo the Croz Spur on the Grandes Jorasses (1993, in a day). She also made several other first female solo ascents, including Aiguille du Petit Dru, the Cassin Route on the Cima Grande in the Dolomites, and the Matterhorn.

She was the first British woman to climb the Eiger North Face, the North Face of Les Droites, and the super couloir on Mont Blanc du Tacul.

In 1994, she published a book about her climbs: A Hard Day’s Summer.

Everest

In the autumn of 1994, Hargreaves took part in the British Everest Medical Expedition led by Simon Currin. The expedition climbed the South Col-Southeast Ridge route. Charlie Hornsby, Roddy Kirkwood, Dawa Temba Sherpa, and Dorje Sherpa summited.

Hargreaves climbed from Camp 4 to 8,400m in five hours but had to turn around when her feet began to feel numb.

Hargreaves’ next project was ambitious. She wanted to climb Everest, K2, and Kangchenjunga in one year without bottled oxygen.

In the spring of 1995, Hargreaves went to Everest alone. She aimed to climb the North Col-Northeast Ridge route without bottled oxygen or Sherpa support.

Above Advanced Base Camp, she moved independently of other teams, did not use the fixed ropes, and climbed without supplemental oxygen or support. Hargreaves only used the ladder on the Second Step, high on the mountain.

She topped out on May 13, becoming the first woman to climb Everest unsupported without supplemental oxygen.

"To Tom and Kate, my two children, I am on the highest point in the world, and I love them dearly, over," Hargreaves said over the radio.

"[She is] a new star of the Himalaya, for women, but also men," a climber told The Himalayan Database afterward.

Death on K2

Only a few months later, in the summer of 1995, Hargreaves headed to Pakistan to fulfill her second big goal: to climb K2 without support or supplemental oxygen.

According to Lorenzo Ortas Pont, a member of a Spanish team on K2 that year, Hargreaves told them before the summit push that she would not go to Kangchenjunga after K2 but instead return to Scotland (where she and the family moved in 1995) to spend time with her children on the beach.

Hargreaves summited on August 13, along with other climbers from various teams. They topped out very late that afternoon, and a huge windstorm caught them just below the summit during their descent.

The 1995 tragedy is one of the most tragic events of K2's climbing history. Hargreaves was likely blown off the mountain. She was 33 years old. Six other climbers also died. In a separate article, we will examine the 1995 disaster.

Tom Ballard

Hargreaves’ son, Tom Ballard, became an outstanding climber. Between December 2014 and March 2015, he followed in his mother's footsteps, climbing the six great North Faces of the Alps solo. He was the first person to complete this feat in a single winter season without a support team.

Ballard died on Feb. 24, 2019, on Nanga Parbat.

After we published a story about an unusual expedition to the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta in Colombia, several readers asked whether this highly restricted area, located between the rainforest and the Caribbean coast, was open to climbers again.

The short answer is yes, but not to anyone.

A group led by Ricardo Rubio climbed a new route on Simon Bolivar Peak on December 18, 2024. They also summited neighboring Cristobal Colon Peak. Both mountains are similar in altitude (just over 5,700m), and an ongoing debate has centered around which was higher and was therefore the highest peak in Colombia.

The first survey, in 1939, judged Colon three meters higher than Bolivar. However, later expeditions, including Rubio's, insisted that Bolivar's summit was slightly higher. However, in the last few years, no one has climbed the peaks to make sure.

(Almost) inaccessible

Both mountains lie in the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta, a peculiar spot. Rising right from the shores of the Caribbean, it is the highest coastal range in the world. Access is highly restricted to preserve the Arhuaco tribal community, which regards the range as El Corazon del Mundo ("The Heart of the World"). Armed groups in the region are a further reason for the restrictions.

But after years of isolation, climbers are back, thanks to a cooperative agreement between a few local companies and the Arhuaco community. The companies also negotiated a safe passage for the climbing groups with the armed paramilitary groups in the area.

The tribe's members earn money as porters and support staff. Expeditions have to trek three to four days right from the Caribbean beaches at sea level, through the jungle, then along alpine meadows, and finally on rock and glaciers to well over 5,000m.

Ricardo Rubio of Ascenso Andino Colombia told ExplorersWeb that in January, they had managed three international groups, including climbers from Poland, Austria, the U.S., and Mexico. All summited Colon Peak, and four individuals also climbed the more technical Simon Bolivar Peak.

"We have permission of passage from the Arhuaco people, from the villagers in San Pedro de la Sierra, as well as from the armed groups," Rubio said.

He insists it is safe since both local communities and the armed groups recognize the benefits of this sustainable, cooperative tourism.

The expedition takes a total of 12 days, and the season goes from December to March.

Altitude confirmed

Shortly after we published the story about the new route on Bolivar, U.S. peak bagger Eric Gilbertson also contacted ExplorersWeb to confirm he, Ginge Fullen, and Jonathan Suarez also climbed Bolivar a few days later via another variation that he deemed slightly harder. He wrote that Rubio's Dec 18 route was 5.4 M1, while his variation was 5.6 M2.

Gilberton's team also brought professional survey equipment on their climb and measured both summits. Bolivar, he said, was 5,720.42m +/-0.08m, and Colon was 5,712.79m +/-0.87m (orthometric height).

"The debate is settled," he concludes.

View this post on Instagram

See this post on Instagram

Gilbertson explained that Colon used to be Colombia's high point when the peaks were surveyed in 1939. At that time, Colon was 5,775m and Bolivar 5,773m, but the snow on their summits has melted considerably since then.

"The highest visible rock on each peak is two to three meters below the summits, so if the melt rate continues, it appears Bolivar will remain the country's high point," Gilbertson said.

Eric Gilbertson and his twin brother Matthew, from Seattle, have spent the last 30 years trying to summit the highest peak in every country in the world.

On January 29, 1873, Prince Luigi Amadeo Giuseppe Maria Ferdinando Francisco di Savoia-Aosta, better known as the Duke of Abruzzi, was born. The Italian Duke's interests were extensive. He was an arctic explorer, sailor, oceanographer, big-game hunter, topographer, geologist, botanist, zoologist, financier, and mountaineer.

Today, we examine the Duke's mountaineering activities.

Early start

The Duke of Abruzzi was a member of the Italian Royal House of Savoy. He was born in Madrid during the short period when his father, Amadeo I, Duke of Aosta, ruled Spain (1870-1873). Shortly after his birth, his father abdicated, and the family returned to Italy. His uncle became King Umberto I of Italy in 1878, and his cousin Vittorio Emanuelle III became king in 1900.

The family lived in Turin, Italy, only 106km from Mont Blanc. His mother, Princess Marie del Pozzo della Cisterna, died when the Duke was only three years old, and the young Duke received a strict, disciplined education.

At six, he became a cabin boy and then attended a naval college. Five years later, he received his first experience on a warship. By 20, he commanded his own ship, the Volturno, to Somalia.

One year later, the Duke cruised around the world on a ship called the Christopher Columbus. The trip took two years. Much later, at 31, he captained another vessel on a three-year, round-the-world voyage.

Love for mountaineering

As a child, the Duke spent most of his summer holidays at his family's hunting lodge in the Alps. Hiking was a popular family activity, and his aunt Margherita was an avid mountaineer. During those summers, the Duke and his siblings spent a lot of time with Friar Francesco Denza, founder of the Moncalieri Meterologic Observatory. Denza taught them science, meteorology, and geology.

Accompanied by mountain guides and friends, including Emile Rey, one of the best climbers of that era, the Duke also began to climb in the Alps. In 1892, with Francesco Gonella, the past president of the Italian Alpine Club, he climbed Peak Levanna in Val dell’Orco. The following month, they summited several peaks in Gran Paradiso and the Mont Blanc massif.

Abruzzi also ascended 4,014m Dent du Geant, a challenging climb at the time.

Meeting Mummery

In 1879, Albert Frederick Mummery and guides Alexander Burgener, Augustin Gentinetta, and Johann Petrus made the first ascent of the difficult Zmutt Ridge on the Matterhorn. Mummery’s success sparked the Duke’s interest.

In the early 1890s, the Duke’s team ascended 4,357m Dent Blanche, and then 4,221m Zinalrothorn. By chance, they met Mummery, who had just opened a new route. Returning to the valley together, the Duke told Mummery he wanted to climb the Zmutt Ridge. They agreed to climb it together.

After this meeting, the Duke hurried to Monte Rosa to ascend Dufourspitze and Gnifetti. Afterward, the Duke received a telegram from Mummery asking him to head immediately to Zermatt because conditions were good for the Zmutt Ridge.

On Aug. 28, 1894, Mummery, the Duke, Norman Collie, and Joseph Pollinger summited the Matterhorn via the Zmutt Ridge.

The first ascent of Mount St. Elias

In 1897, when the Duke was only 24, he organized and led an expedition to unclimbed 5,489m Mount St. Elias on the border of Alaska and the Yukon.

Storms from the nearby Gulf of Alaska pound Mount St. Elias almost incessantly. Nevertheless, on July 31, the Duke and his partners (including the renowned Italian photographer and alpinist Vittorio Sella) made the first ascent. The second ascent came 48 years later!

Ruwenzori

In 1904, the Duke was in Honolulu when the news arrived that Henry Morton Stanley had died. The newspaper reporting Stanley's death included a quote from a speech Stanley gave in 1901 at the Royal Geographic Society: "I hope that a man dedicated to his work, a passionate mountaineer, will take Ruwenzori into consideration and study it, explore it from top to bottom, crossing its enormous ridges and deep corridors."

The Duke's next goal was clear: to climb the Ruwenzori Mountains in eastern equatorial Africa. The highest peak in the glaciated Ruwenzori is 5,109m. Ruwenzori means King of the Clouds, and this range was believed to be the mysterious Mountains of the Moon mentioned by the ancient Greeks.

In 1906, the Duke organized an expedition that climbed 16 mountains in the range, including the highest peak. Ten Ruwenzori peaks surpass 4,800m. The highest are Mt. Margherita (5,109m) and Mt. Alexandra (5,105m), both named by the Duke. Afterward, the energetic Duke made a map of the Ruwenzori range.

Attempt on K2

In 1909, the Duke organized an expedition to then-unclimbed K2. At 8,611m, it was the second-highest mountain in the world.

The first party to attempt K2 was a British-Austrian expedition led by Oskar Eckenstein in 1902. That group tried to ascend the northeast ridge but only made it to 6,000m.
The Duke’s team marked the second attempt.

After making an exhaustive plan and a long approach trek, they finally reached the mountain and tried twice. First, they attempted the Southeast Spur and made it to 6,200m. Today, this route is called the Abruzzi Spur and has become K2’s normal route.

They also attempted the Northwest Ridge, reaching 6,644m.

Chogolisa

After K2, the Duke headed to unclimbed 7,665m Chogolisa, one of the most beautiful mountains in the Karakoram. On Chogolisa, the Duke and two partners reached 7,498m, a record height at the time. Bad weather, poor visibility, and deep snow prevented them from summiting.

Vittorio Sella’s book, Mountain Photographs (1879-1909), has a beautiful collection of images from these expeditions.

Somalia

The Duke did not have an easy life. His forbidden love with Katherine Elkins (he was not allowed to marry her because she came from a lower class) and many other complicated circumstances weren’t easy to manage.

After losing several climbing partners and some of his family over the years, he retired to Italian Somaliland. Nobody could convince the Duke to stay in Italy.

"I prefer that the fantasies of Somali women intertwine around my grave rather than the hypocrisy of civilized men," the Duke said.

The Duke died at age 60 on March 18, 1933, in Jowhar, Somalia.

For more on his expeditions and life, we recommend The Duke of the Abruzzi: An Explorer’s Life by Mirella Tenderini and Michael Shandrick.

The 100th anniversary

In 2009, a group of climbers attempted K2 to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the Duke's expedition. A fantastic film was made about their attempt.

The documentary K2: Siren of the Himalayas by Dave Olson can be viewed for free on YouTube. It stars Gerlinde Kaltenbrunner, Jake Meyer, Chris Szymiec, Ralf Dujmovits, and David Goettler, among others. The 1909 expedition is well presented, with original photos and fragments of the Duke's expedition report.

You can view the film below.

On January 2, 1909, the versatile mountaineer Riccardo Cassin was born in Friuli, Italy.

Cassin's father died in a mining accident in Canada in 1913. To help his family, Cassin left school at the age of 12 to work in a blacksmith shop.

In 1926, Cassin moved to Lecco and worked at a steel plant. He started boxing and also went to the surrounding mountains every spare moment. Eventually, he had to choose between boxing and climbing, and he chose climbing. He started honing his skills in the Grigna massif around Lecco. Eventually, he excelled in all disciplines, including rock, big-wall, and alpine climbing.

Cassin made several pioneering climbs in the 1930s. Among them:

• 1934: First ascent of Cima Picolissima of the Tre Cime di Lavaredo with two partners. The following year, he climbed the Torre Trieste via the southeast ridge and established a new route on the north face of the Cima Ovest di Lavaredo in the Dolomites with Vittorio Ratti.
• 1937: First ascent of the northeast face of Piz Badile along with partners Ratti and Gino Esposito. They also teamed up with two others, M. Molteni and G. Valsecchi, who died of exhaustion during the descent.
• 1938: Climbed the Walker Spur on the North Face of Grandes Jorasses with Esposito and Ugo Tizzoni. One year later, Cassin and Tizzoni ascended a new route on the north face of the Aiguille de Leschaux.

100 first ascents

These are only a few of his 2,500 ascents, of which 100 were first ascents.

The Second World War stopped his climbing. During the war, Cassin fought against the Nazis as a partisan.

The Ragni di Lecco (Spiders of Lecco) chapter of the Italian Alpine Club was founded in 1946. Their goal was to surpass Lecco's so-called "old climbers," including Cassin, who also became part of the group.

Thwarted from joining K2 expedition

In 1954, the leader of the Italian K2 expedition, Ardito Desio, left Cassin off the team -- according to Cassin, because of their rivalry. Instead, Cassin went on to lead several major expeditions himself, including a successful 1958 climb of 7,932m Gasherbrum IV. On that expedition, Walter Bonatti and Carlo Mauri made the first ascent of GIV via the northeast ridge.

Then in 1961, Cassin led a strong party to the still-unclimbed south face of 6,190m Denali. On July 19, all five members topped out on a difficult route that became known as the Cassin Ridge.

Cassin returned to the Himalaya in 1975 to lead an expedition to 8,516m Lhotse. They wanted to try a new route along the west part of the south face. Two years earlier, a Japanese party had tried that line unsuccessfully. Two members of Cassin's team reached roughly 7,500m, when bad weather forced them to turn around.

Piz Badile at 78

In 1987, on the 50th anniversary of his first ascent of the northeast face of Piz Badile, Cassin climbed it again at the age of 78. His filmmaker friend, Fulvio Mariani, would have liked to film it, but Cassin had not told him about the ascent, so Cassin volunteered to do it again.

When journalists reported that Cassin had repeated his own route twice, Cassin pointed out that the second repetition was not valid because a helicopter had picked him up at the summit.

Cassin continued climbing until he was 80. He died in Lecco on August 6, 2009, at the age of 100.

Alex Lowe, one of the best alpinists of the 1990s, would have turned 66 today.

An incredibly versatile climber, Lowe was good on big walls, alpine routes, rock climbing, skiing, and speed climbing. He also made several first ski descents. Today, we'll take a short look at some of his great climbs.

In the pre-monsoon period of 1989, Lowe and Steve Swenson climbed a new grade VI route on 6,011m Kwangde Nup via the north buttress. The most difficult part of the three-day ascent was on the last day when the two climbers had to do several difficult mixed pitches to surmount the steep upper headwall.

Lowe established new routes in Grand Teton and in Kyrgyzstan’s Ak-Su region. His experience on Denali included a rescue in which the powerful Lowe carried one of the stricken climbers down on his back.

In 1999, he climbed a new route on the northwest face of 6,286m Great Trango Tower in Pakistan with Jared Ogden and Mark Synnott.

Khan Tengri

In 1993, Lowe climbed 7,010m Khan Tengri solo in a record time of 10 hours and 8 minutes. Three years later, Lowe and his friend Conrad Anker went to 7,555m Annapurna III. They acclimatized up to 7,200m on the west ridge of Annapurna IV. Their plan was to climb Annapurna III’s southeast pillar, but due to deep and dangerous snow, they couldn’t get onto the mountain.

Lowe attempted K2 (back in 1986) and Gasherbrum IV (1992). Sometimes known as the Lungs With Legs, Lowe was always preternaturally good at altitude. In 1996, Lowe made the first free ascent of the route Troubled Dreams on Mount Rundle in the Canadian Rockies.

In 1997, Lowe and Conrad Anker made the first ascent of Rakekniven, a Cerro Torre-like granite needle in the Filchner Mountains of Queen Maud Land, Antarctica. The following year, Alex Lowe, Mark Synott, Greg Child, Jared Ogden, Gordon Wiltsie, and Jon Catto made the first ascent of Great Sail Peak on Canada’s Baffin Island. You can read more about this ascent in Mark Synnott's report.

Lowe ascended Everest twice, in 1990 and 1993 (with oxygen). In 1994, he took part in the U.S.-Canadian expedition led by David Breashears to climb the difficult Kangshung Face of Everest without bottled oxygen. The party reached 7,375m but had to turn around due to dangerous snow conditions.

Death on Shisha Pangma

In September 1999, Lowe, along with Anker and David Bridges were attempting the Southwest Face of 8,027m Shisha Pangma. Lowe and Anker wanted to ski from its summit. Unfortunately, on October 5, a serac broke above the climbers, triggering a huge avalanche. Lowe and Bridges perished. Anker survived with some injuries.

On April 27, 2016, Ueli Steck and David Goettler found the remains of Lowe and Bridges emerging from the glacier.

The best way to conclude this short remembrance is to quote Alex Lowe himself. It appeared in a beautiful article that Gordon Wiltsie wrote about him in the American Alpine Journal.

"The best climber in the world is the one having the most fun.”

The Italian mountain site montagna.tv has listed ExplorersWeb's Angela Benavides as one of the 50 most influential mountain people of 2024.

Regular ExplorersWeb readers will be familiar with her almost daily coverage of mountain happenings around the world, especially in the Himalaya and Karakoram. Angela doesn't only report the news; she gives context and depth to the alpine stories of the day. Whether it is up-to-the-minute news about an ongoing summit push, an in-depth investigation about the controversial death of a Pakistani porter on K2, or clarifying the byzantine rules around obtaining a climbing permit in Tibet, Angela's tireless work puts her at the core of contemporary mountain journalism.

Others on the yearly list include Kilian Jornet, Jimmy Chin, Francois Cazzanelli, Kilian Jornet, Nives Meroi, and Nima Rinji Sherpa.

Congratulations to Angela!

Today, ExplorersWeb would like to remember the mountaineers and adventurers we lost in 2024. It was a particularly tragic year, and the full list of climbers and explorers who died is much longer than we can include here, but all have our utmost respect.

There are few treasures of more lasting worth than the experiences of a way of life that is in itself wholly satisfying. Such, after all, are the only possessions of which no fate, no cosmic catastrophe can deprive us; nothing can alter the fact if for one moment in eternity, we have really lived. -- Eric Shipton

Jean Malaurie

On February 5, the pioneering French adventurer Jean Malaurie died at 101.

Malaurie is best known for his classic work, The Last Kings of Thule, about the people of North West Greenland. In the 1950s, when Malaurie traveled, and for decades beyond, the people there continued to live traditionally, traveling by dogteam for weeks at a time, hunting seals to feed themselves and their dogs. The book has been translated into 23 languages and remains the most widely distributed work on the Inuit.

Malaurie defended the rights of arctic minorities and became a UNESCO Goodwill Ambassador for northern issues.

Evgeniy Glazunov

On February 16, Russian alpinist Evgeniy Glazunov died on 5,355m Ak-Su in Kyrgyzstan’s Pamir-Alai range. He died while climbing solo, shortly after he became the first person to ascend the 1,400m north wall via the Chaplinsky route in winter. He perished during the descent.

Glazunov was one of Russia's best contemporary climbers. Mainly climbing in Central Asia, he had soloed many long routes, including several first ascents. He was the brother of Sergey Glazunov, who died on Latok I in July 2018.

Robin Campbell

Scottish mountaineer and academic Robin Campbell died on March 4. Campbell received the Scottish Award for Excellence in Mountain Culture and was a respected authority on climbing history, with a particularly keen focus on Scottish mountaineering.

With partners Robins Smith, Dougal Haston, and Neil Macniven, Campbell established many high-quality routes.

David Breashears

On March 14, mountaineer David Breashears died at age 69. He was the first U.S. climber to summit Everest twice, in 1983 and 1985. Breashears took part in 16 expeditions to the Himalaya. He summited Everest five times, Ama Dablam once in 1979, and Kwangde in 1982.

As director and film producer, Breashears co-created the IMAX documentary Everest. He made several other excellent documentaries that captured the essence of adventure, including Kilimanjaro: To The Roof of Africa.

In his productions, Breashears combined visual beauty with captivating narratives.

Lou Whittaker

On March 24, U.S. mountain guide Lou Whittaker died at age 95. With his twin brother Jim, Whittaker began climbing at 12. The Whittakers summited Mount Rainier at 16 and had climbed all of the major peaks in Washington by 18.

As an experienced glacier travel guide, Whittaker summited Mount Rainier over 250 times. He rescued dozens of climbers over his long career. He also led the first American ascent of the North Col of Everest in 1984.

Masatatsu Abe

On March 27, Japanese adventurer Masatatsu Abe died at the age of 41. Abe developed his love for the outdoors young. Among his many journeys around the world, Abe bicycled 11,000km through South America, traversed the Continental Divide Trail from Canada to Mexico, and hiked the 1,200km Great Divide Trail in Canada. Abe then traveled 2,000km down the Amazon River on a homemade raft.

In 2018-19, the ever-smiling Abe reached the South Pole after 55 days and 918km via the Messner Start. In 2021-22, he tried to retrace a 1911 Japanese expedition led by Nobu Shirase, but ran out of time.

Abe was scheduled to go to Antarctica again in November 2023, but after completing his preparations, he was diagnosed with brain tumor that eventually killed him.

Denis Trento

On May 3, Italian mountaineer Denis Trento perished at the age of 41. A ski mountaineering champion and mountain guide, Trento died on the north face of Testa del Paramont in Italy's Aosta Valley in a fall.

In 2016, Trento traversed the Rochefort Ridge of the Grandes Jorasses. Two years later, he linked the Bonatti and Aigle on Petit Mont Blanc, and a few months afterward, he climbed the Innominata ridge and the Monte Rosa Express with Robert Antonioli. In 2020, he climbed the Central Pillar of Freney with Filip Babitz, making the round-trip in less than 24 hours.

Martin Feistl

On May 18, German climber Martin Feistl fell to his death while free soloing the south face of the Scharnitzspitze in the Austrian Tirol. He was 27 years old and an experienced free soloist.

Feistl made a name for himself as a first-rate ice and mixed climber, although he was equally at home on rock. In 2020, he was a candidate for a Piolet d’Or for the first ascent (with David Bruder) of Stalingrad, a 1,000m ice route in Austria’s Karwendel Massif.

At 20, Feistl climbed Shivling in the Garhwal Himalaya. He was a purist looking for first ascents on ice routes. In the summer of 2023, he opened new routes in East Greenland.

Tomas Franchini

On June 2, Italian climber Tomas Franchini perished after falling from the northeast face of 5,716m Cashan in the Andes. Franchini was 35 years old.

Franchini had been nominated twice for a Piolet d’Or. In 2017, Franchini opened a new route on the west face of 6,618m Mount Edgar in China's Sichuan mountains with Francois Cazzanelli and Matteo Faletti. In the spring of 2022, Franchini, Philipp Brugger, and Lukas Waldner made the first ascent of 6,653m Shaue Sar via its north face.

John Middendorf

On June 21, U.S. big-wall climber and gear designer John Middendorf died suddenly from a stroke. Middendorf’s outstanding climbs in Yosemite and on the Great Trango Tower were followed by more pioneering big-wall routes in Zion National Park. Many climbers use his famous portaledges.

Keita Kurakami

On June 26, Japanese rock climber Keita Kurakami passed away at the age of 38 after a heart attack on Mount Fuji.

Kurakami pioneered important trad routes, including challenging rope-solo free ascents. In 2017, Kurakami and a partner climbed the Nose on El Capitan. When it was reported that they free-climbed the route, Kurakami corrected the reports, stating that it was not a totally free ascent. So, in 2018, he went back. This time, he not only freed the route ground up but did it rope-solo, self-belaying. He became the fifth person to rope-solo free the Nose.

Kurakami knew he had a heart condition, but he did not want to stop climbing, choosing to pursue his passion till the end.

Kazuya Hiraide and Kenro Nakajima

On July 27, two of the world's top alpinists, Kazuya Hiraide and Kenro Nakajima of Japan, perished on the West Face of K2 in a fall from 7,500m.

Their outstanding legacy includes multiple Piolets d’Or for both of them. This month, they received another Golden Ice Axe for their first ascent of the north face of Tirich Mir in 2023.

Family members of both climbers attended the Piolet d’Or ceremony in Italy, and Nakajima’s wife posted an emotional letter on her husband’s social media, saying: "Although he was called a professional mountain climber, he always gently grinned and said, 'I am just a mountain lover'...Our children and I embrace his spirit strongly and will move forward slowly, little by little. May he live in your heart forever."

Archil Badriashvili

On August 10, Georgian alpinist Archil Badriashvili died in the Caucasus after an incredibly unlucky accident. A lightning strike hit nearby while he was on 4,388m Shkhelda, prompting a fall. Badriashvili was 34 years old.

A physician but also a professional mountain guide, Badriashvili climbed extensively in the Caucasus and wrote many exciting reports for the American Alpine Journal. His first ascent of the isolated Saraghrar Northwest in 2021 earned him and his team a Piolet d’Or.

Sergey Nilov

On August 17, Russian Sergey Nilov perished on 7,932m Gasherbrum IV in an avalanche. It occurred while Nilov and his climbing partners were trying to find Dmitry Golovchenko's body. Golovchenko had died last year when he and Nilov were attempting a first ascent of the southeast ridge of Gasherbrum IV.

Over a 20-year partnership, the Golovchenko-Nilov duo won the Piolet d’Or for their ascents of Thalay Sagar and Muztagh Tower. They carried out other highly committed, first-class expeditions on Jannu and Trango Tower. Many of their climbs were first ascents of new routes. The essence of mountaineering was key to all their undertakings, and they were inseparable friends.

Mike Gardner

On October 7, American climber Mike Gardner fell to his death on the north face of 7,468m Jannu East while attempting to make the first ascent of the mountain. Gardner was a second-generation mountain guide from Idaho. He described himself as a climber, skier, but most of all, a skateboarder.

In 2022, Gardner was part of a team that broke the speed record on the Slovak Direct route on Denali. That same summer, they opened a new route on the east face of Mount Hunter.

Ondrej Huserka

On October 31, 34-year-old Slovakian climber Ondrej Huserka perished while descending the east face of 7,227m Langtang Lirung. He and Marek Holecek had just made the first-ever ascent by the difficult east face.

In 2017, Huserka made the first ascent of the 1,000m high west face of Alexander Block Peak in Kyrgyzstan. In 2019, Huserka successfully climbed Cerro Torre.

Other great mountaineers who died this year

Sadly, this year’s list is very large. We would like to pay homage to other climbers who died in 2024, though we cannot mention everyone:

Alexander Dusheyko, Oleg Kruglov, Vladimir Chistikov, Mikhail Nosenko, and Dmitry Shpilevoy perished on Dhaulagiri I; Murad Sadpara from Pakistan died on Broad Peak. Others included British-American climber Chris Jones; Italian climbers Francesco Favilli and Filippo Zanin; Rocky Shorey; Irish climber Richard O’Neill-Dean; Dave Tan; T. Hagiwara; Gioachino Gobbi; Japanese climbers Ryuseki Hiraoka, Atsushi Taguchi, and Hiroshi Onishi, who died on Spantik; Carlos Romero, Kurt Blair, and a Canadian partner on Mount Cook; Italian World Cup speed skier Jean Daniel Pession and Elisa Arlian; skiers Sylvain Saudan and Matilde Lorenzi.

We should not pretend to judge those who seek danger in the highest places, or demand that they tell us the meaning of what they do. Simply put, when they pay the ultimate price for their passion, we must recognize them. -- Wanda Rutkiewicz

French alpinist Liliane Barrard would have turned 76 today.

Born Liliane Bontemps on Dec. 9, 1948, her love for mountaineering started at the age of 13 in Chamonix.

In 1973, Maurice Barrard led a successful French Alpine Club expedition to the Cordillera Blanca in Peru. There, they made the first ascent of the northeast face of Huascaran North, and he also met Liliane. Four years later, the couple married and moved to the Loire Valley. They became the best-known climbing couple of their time.

In 1977, Barrard returned to the Andes to solo the south face of Artesonraju in the Cordillera Blanca. He also climbed a new route on the south face of Pisco Peak.

Liliane, newly married to Maurice, also took part in this expedition. A few days later, she, her brother Alain Bontemps, and Christian Bougnaod repeated the Pisco route. The French party also made other first ascents in the area.

In the summer of 1980, Maurice Barrard and his regular partner Georges Narbaud summited Gasherbrum I. Their ultralight expedition, without supplemental oxygen, also featured no logistical support or high-altitude porters.

The 'world’s highest couple'

Soon after, Maurice began to climb with his wife as his partner, always lightweight and without sherpa assistants or bottled oxygen. The Barrards had decided to become the ”world's highest couple.” On June 12, 1982, they, along with Alain Bontemps, summited Gasherbrum II in the Karakoram four days after leaving Base Camp.

In the summer of 1983, Liliane and Maurice attempted Nanga Parbat via a variation of the Diamir route. They did not succeed, and on that long, hungry expedition, both dropped more than ten kilos. Liliane also lost a toe from frostbite.

But one year later, the Barrards returned to Nanga Parbat and climbed it without bottled oxygen. Liliane thus became the first woman to summit Nanga Parbat.

In the spring of 1985, the couple attempted 8,485m Makalu, again without bottled oxygen, with partners Erich Beaud and Georges Narbaud. They were the only party on the mountain that spring. They used neither camps nor fixed ropes and went via the Makalu La–Northwest Ridge-North Face route. At a high point of 8,430m, they had to turn back because of high winds and frostbitten toes. They also wanted to ski down the peak, but there was no snow on the mountain, only rock and ice.

Broad Peak

The couple then attempted Broad Peak in August 1985. Despite four summit pushes, they again fell short because of bad weather, reaching a high of 7,800m. On that expedition, the Barrards helped Wanda Rutkiewicz search for her friend, Barbara Kozlowska, who drowned crossing a glacial river. They then helped to bury her.

Back in 1979, Maurice Barrard and a French expedition attempted the difficult Magic Line on K2. In 1986, Maurice and Liliane attempted 8,611m K2, this time together. Poland's Wanda Rutkiewicz and Michel Parmentier of France joined them. The four wanted to ascend the normal Abruzzi Spur route without outside help or bottled oxygen.

Bad luck plagued their 1986 expedition from the beginning. According to Jim Curran in his book K2: Triumph and Tragedy, the Barrards lost their entire expedition budget,  thousands of dollars, plus airline tickets and passports, in a taxi. Despite this, they continued to the mountain.

In the summer of 1986, nine expeditions obtained permits to climb K2 by various routes. The Barrards, Parmentier, and Rutkiewicz started their summit push before the fixed ropes were laid. Before 1986, no woman had summited K2.

Tragedy soon struck. On June 21, American climbers John Smolich and Allan Pennington, attempting the south-southwest ridge, died in an avalanche at 6,000m.

Barrard’s team, comprising Rutkiewicz, Parmentiere, Liliane, and Maurice, was the first to top out on K2 that summer.

The Barrards and Parmentier climbed the final section of K2 slower than Rutkiewicz, who topped out at 10:30 am on June 23. Rutkiewicz thus became the first woman to summit K2. Liliane and Maurice Barrard joined her half an hour later at 11 am. None used bottled oxygen. All four stayed on the summit until midday.

Two Spanish climbers, Mari Abrego and Josema Casimiro, also summited that day, at about 2 pm, also by the Abruzzi Spur.

Fatal descent

While Abrego and Casimiro descended without incident to their high camp at 8,000m, Barrard's team struggled. They made it down only to their last bivouac site at 8,300m near the Bottleneck, but they had no sleeping bags in the tent.

On June 24, after a difficult night at altitude and very tired, the Barrard party continued down. They had run out of fuel for the stoves. Parmentier, who set out first, wanted to borrow some fuel from Abrego and Casimiro, who were a little below them. Rutkiewicz followed Parmentier, while the Barrards brought up the rear.

Unfortunately, Casimiro and Abrego had run out of fuel too, so they, Parmentier, and Rutkiewicz hurried down to Camp 3 at 7,800m as quickly as possible. From there, Abrego, Casimiro, and Rutkiewicz continued descending while Parmentier stayed at Camp 3 to wait for the Barrards. Benoit Chamoux, also at Camp 3, tried to convince Parmentier to continue down, but he insisted on waiting for Liliane and Maurice.

But the Barrards never arrived. In high winds and suffering from the cold, Parmentier eventually descended in a whiteout, guided by radio from Base Camp. All four finally made it to Base Camp, but the Barrards had disappeared.

It is possible that they wandered off the route in poor visibility, somewhere below 8,300m. They may have fallen off the mountain or collapsed from hypoxia and exhaustion.

A South Korean team discovered Lilian Barrard’s body a month later at about 5,300m. Maurice Barrard’s body was found 12 years later, on the glacier above Base Camp. Both are buried at the Gilkey Memorial at K2.

K2's terrible year

During the summer of 1986, 27 climbers summited K2 via different routes.

It was one of the most tragic seasons ever on an 8,000m peak. That summer, K2 claimed the lives of 13 climbers. Apart from John Smolich, Alan Pennington, and the Barrards, Tadeusz Piotrowski, Renato Casarotto, Wojciech Wroz, Mohammed Ali, Julie Tullis, Alan Rouse, Alfred Imitzer, Hannes Wieser, and Dobroslawa Wolf also lost their lives.

For more on this story, we recommend the books of Jim Curran (K2, Triumph and Tragedy), and Kurt Diemberger (The Endless Knot: K2, Mountain of Dreams and Destiny).

The police searching for the three climbers missing on 3,724m Aoraki/Mt. Cook since last week has given up hope of finding them alive. A drone search yesterday showed pieces of gear and footprints on the mountain but no trace of the climbers. Their families have been informed of the tragic news.

The drones confirmed the suspicions that Kurt Blair, 56, of Colorado and Carlos Romero, 50, of California, plus a third unnamed Canadian, likely took a fall while attempting the Linda Glacier/Zubriggen Ridge route on Aoraki/Mt. Cook, the highest peak in New Zealand. The team flew to the Plateau hut on Saturday and expected to reach the summit the following day. A search-and-rescue operation began after they failed to meet their prearranged transportation on Monday.

Search abandoned

The police have told New Zealand media that they aren't continuing to search at this stage.

"However, we remain poised to reactivate our search if we receive fresh information or credible reports of sightings, especially from the climbing community," they told 1 News.

Asked about launching an operation to recover the bodies, the police said that option would be "carefully considered."

Both Blair, from Colorado, and Romero, from California, were professional mountain guides with IFMGA/AMGA accreditation and wide experience in mountains around the world.

Mount Cook is an impressive peak on the west coast of New Zealand's Southern Island. There is no easy route to its summit, and the climb is exposed to several objective dangers, including rockfall, avalanches, steep sections on hard ice, and abruptly changeable weather.

Three climbers -- two Americans and one Canadian -- are missing on 3,724m Aoraki/Mt. Cook, the highest peak in New Zealand.

The climbers flew to Plateau Hut on Saturday and planned to climb the peak on Sunday. When the climbers failed to meet their pre-arranged transport yesterday, a search began. Patrols found clothes and climbing gear but no trace of the missing team.

Fall suspected

The search was suspended today due to bad weather. It is not expected to resume until conditions improve, likely not till Thursday.

The missing Americans are Kurt Blair, 56, from Colorado; and Carlos Romero, 50, of California, AP reported. Both are certified mountain guides. The name of the Canadian has not been shared yet.

Two hours ago, New Zealand's 1 News quoted a relative of one of the missing climbers, who said that authorities believe they may have suffered a fatal fall.

For experts only

Aoraki/Mt. Cook, on New Zealand's Southern Island, is a serious climb suitable only for experts. The heavily glaciated peak features huge crevasses, steep sections, avalanche-prone slopes, and highly variable weather.

The missing team was probably climbing the peak via the standard route up the Linda Glacier and Zubriggen Ridge. They skipped the lower section across the Tasman Glacier and Haast Ridge by flying directly to Plateau Hut, the usual point from which summit pushes are launched.

The long summit day involves an early start to minimize avalanche risk. Climbers navigate the heavily crevassed Linda Glacier, then follow the Zurbriggen Ridge to the summit, which includes 50º sections on ice, according to SummitPost. The round trip back to Plateau Hut usually takes 15-20 hours.

According to SummitPost, the Linda Glacier route is the most popular because it is the least technical but it is also the most dangerous route up the mountain.

"The route is exposed in numerous places to avalanches, rockfall, and ice-fall danger from above," New Zealand-based Adventure Consultants confirms. "From December onward, the route can become heavily crevassed before eventually becoming impassable. Crevasses may slow travel through areas threatened by ice avalanches and can be unacceptable from a safe guiding perspective."

More than 240 people have died on Aoraki/Mount Cook and in the surrounding park in the last 120 years.

Potential Mt. Cook clients must have their skills and level of fitness assessed by the local outfitter. Climbers also stop some meters away from the peak's highest point out of respect for the Ngāi Tahu community of the Maori people, for whom Aoraki is a sacred ancestor.

Sixty-nine years ago today, the pioneering French alpinist and ski instructor Louis Lachenal died in a crevasse in the Alps. Lachenal was one of the first two mountaineers in the world to summit an 8,000m peak. That was Annapurna I in 1950.

Lachenal was born on July 17, 1921, in Annecy, in the Auvergne-Rhone-Alpes region of southeastern France. His love of mountaineering started early. In his early 20s, he became a mountaineering and ski instructor and a guide in Chamonix.

Lachenal started climbing with Lionel Terray in the summer of 1945. They had met that spring when Terray passed through Annecy. As he strolled through town, he was approached by a poorly dressed young man who asked him, ”Aren’t you Lionel Terray?”

Terray said yes, and Lachenal introduced himself. Terray then remembered that he had heard of Lachenal's exceptional climbing skills from some friends. The two men went for beer together, and thus, an exceptional climbing duo began. That July, Lachenal and Terray climbed the 4,122m Aiguille Verte.

The following year, they made the fourth ascent of the Walker Spur of the Grandes Jorasses. During the ascent, the two climbers became lost in bad weather and traversed too far to the right of the ridgeline. According to the American Alpine Journal, Lachenal and Terray were then forced into the difficult and dangerous couloir high on the face. It became known as the Terray Escape. Because of the treacherous unstable rock, it was a very narrow escape.

In 1947, Lachenal made the second ascent of the North Face of the Eiger, again with Terray, who was now his regular climbing partner.

Annapurna I

Maurice Herzog invited Lachenal on his 1950 Himalayan expedition. The original objective of the French expedition was an unspecified 8,000'er. According to Adam Carter in the American Alpine Journal, this greatly limited their choice of mountain. At the time, nearly all 8,000m peaks were out of bounds because of the India-Pakistan war in Kashmir and the Chinese Communist presence in Tibet.

Eventually, the French received permission to enter Nepal and attempt either 7,134m Gaurishankar or to follow the Krishna Gandaki Valley and try 8,167m Dhaulagiri I or 8,091m Annapurna I. The French stuck with their 8,000m plan and had the two peaks to choose from.

Herzog's team included Jean Couzy, photographer Marcel Ichac, Louis Lachenal, Jacques Oudot (team doctor), Gaston Rebuffat, Marcel Schatz, Lionel Terray, and eight sherpas -- Ajiba Sherpa, Ang Dawa Sherpa, Ang Tshering Sherpa, Ang Tharkay Sherpa, Dawa Thondup, Ila, Phu Tharkey, and Sarki Sherpa.

Dhaulagiri I discarded

By 1950, only one party had apparently attempted Dhaulagiri I, an American group the year before. However, The Himalayan Database noted that this had just been a rumored attempt.

Herzog’s team eventually discarded Dhaulagiri I because they could not find a feasible route. They only reconnoitered the Southeast Ridge and the North Side. So in the end, they headed to Annapurna I. No one had attempted it before.

They arrived at Annapurna’s Base Camp on May 18. Despite the initial shock of how imposing the giant peak looked, they gamely started climbing its northern slopes. They did not have much time before the monsoon. After making it up to 6,000m on the Northwest Spur, the French finally opted for the North Face.

On June 3, Herzog and Lachenal summited Annapurna I without supplemental oxygen and became the first alpinists in history to climb an 8,000’er. Lachenal was about to give up during the push but finally decided to accompany the determined Herzog to the top.

On the summit, Herzog lost his gloves when he took them off to take photos. They spent one hour on the summit. A storm was approaching, and a nervous Lachenal urged Herzog to descend. Herzog refused to hurry down, so Lachenal started to go down alone. Eventually, Herzog followed.

Descent and frostbite

Both suffered severe frostbite during their dramatic descent. Terray and Rebuffat were waiting for them at Camp 5 at 7,500m. In the bad weather, they had no visibility and had to bivouac in a crevasse, all four in one sleeping bag.

Finally, they made it back to Base Camp. Herzog later lost both his fingers and toes; Lachenal’s toes were amputated as well.

The Annapurna expedition had its controversies, both among the mountaineers who were there and in the climbing community at large. Some doubted that the French had summited at all.

Accident

Lachenal died at the age of 34, five years after Annapurna. On November 25, 1955, Lachenal was skiing in the Vallee Blanche in Chamonix with Jean-Pierre Payot when Lachenal fell into a crevasse and died immediately. The next day, Lachenal’s friends and some guides retrieved his body from the deep crevasse.

Later, 3,613m Point Lachenal in the Mont Blanc Massif was named after him. ”The mountains were not my weekend hobby, they were my entire life,” he said once.