6 minute read
EVEREST 50 YEARS LATER
By Phil Powers, Executive Director, The American Alpine Club
On May 22, 1963, two men stood atop Mount Everest. As part of an American expedition, Dr. Tom Hornbein and Willi Unsoeld had just made the first ascent of the difficult West Ridge. They were about to descend the Southeast Ridge, completing the first traverse of our world’s highest peak. Through the lens of today’s emphasis on individual achievement, it’s easy to see this climb as an amazing feat by two special men. Masters of their craft and strong, they experienced that rare, magical confluence of mountain conditions, personal readiness, and deep mutual trust that breeds extraordinary confidence. ]
Dr. Tom Hornbein, pictured here speaking about 2013 Hall of Mountaineering Excellence inductee and Swiss climber Norman Dyhrenfurth, joined Willi Unsoeld as the first climbers to reach the summit of Mount Everest via the West Ridge. Dyhrenfurth led the first American expedition to Everest. Photo by Craig Hoffman.
Yet as I talk with Hornbein today, he refuses to let their ascent be seen in a vacuum. Hornbein reminds me that it was the work of many, not merely of two, that placed them on the top by a new route and that got them safely down the other side. He points to the leader Norman Dyhrenfurth’s “dream and tenacity to make it all happen” as “perhaps the greatest achievement.” He also feels that the West Ridge story must be told within the context of the larger expedition. e team’s primary goal had been to make the rst American ascent of the mountain. If Jim Whittaker and Nawang Gombu hadn’t successfully summited via the established Southeast Ridge on May 1, the other members might not have been able to shift their focus to the more-uncertain West Ridge.
Hornbein also highlights the positive energy of Barry Corbet, Al Auten, and Dick Emerson, who exerted tremendous e ort in helping him and Unsoeld position themselves for the summit bid. On the same day that Hornbein and Unsoeld reached the top by the West Ridge, Barry Bishop and Lute Jerstad had already summited by the Southeast Ridge. us, when night fell soon after Hornbein and Unsoeld began the descent, they could follow Bishop and Jerstad’s shouts, joining them at their bivouac. e next day, Girmi Dorje and Dave Dingman met the group above Camp VI and escorted them down the mountain. In the climbers’ then-vulnerable state, their teammates’ presence and emotional support may well have meant the di erence between survival and tragedy. Composed of guides and teachers, doctors and cameramen, the entire 1963 Everest expedition inspired a generation of American youth to get outside. e members were regular people who told their adventure to millions with Bishop’s photos, Dyhrenfurth’s lm, and Hornbein’s words. Many great climbers remember the 1963 National Geographic cover and feature article—or Hornbein’s subsequent book e West Ridge—as the start of their own lifetime of adventure. e expedition broke ground in science as well. Experiments of all kinds from geographical and meteorological to studies of human performance at altitude and under stress were performed. Notably, the stress studies informed NASA’s e orts to put a man on the moon.
For those of us who enjoy the mountain world, this was a turning point for outdoor adventure and for climbing. Seeking the heights became something to which all could aspire. On the heels of those Americans on Everest, the rest of us followed. In the years since, the Wilderness Act was passed, retail sales to climbers grew through companies such as REI, and families such as the climbing Smiths of Colorado got into the act of climbing mountains. ousands have climbed Everest since 1963. Until the early 1990s, alpinists attempted a wide diversity of routes, looking for harder lines or simpler styles. Reinhold Messner and Peter Habeler reached the summit without supplemental oxygen in 1978. But in 1985—the year that David Breashears guided Dick Bass to the top— there began an inexorable march away from new or di cult routes and from “fair means” ascents without bottled oxygen. Since 2000, the vast majority of expeditions have concentrated on getting paying clients up the
easier North or Southeast ridges.
Each year, the Everest situation comes under greater scrutiny, with new stories of crowds and deaths and with new allegations of climbers lacking compassion for each other. View Ralf Dujmovits’ photo of the line of people moving up the Lhotse Face, in the May 30, 2012, edition of e Guardian, or dig into David Breashears’ amazing, 3.8 billion-pixel image (available at http:// www.npr.org/2012/12/20/167621313/abillion-pixel-tour-of-mount-everest) that exposes the hundreds of tents in Base Camp if you want a glimpse of what the mountain has become. is infrastructure is moving to other 8,000-meter peaks. Cho Oyu, Manaslu, and now even mountains such as K2 are guided by teams reliant on supplemental oxygen, xed lines, and high altitude porters. Each person’s choice of style is his or her own, a decision that has to do with highly personal variables. Regardless of how we feel about the use of various aids, the people who stand atop these peaks still take each step themselves. We must be clear, however, that individual style choices should not lead to damage to the mountain or harm to others—including to potential rescuers. We all need to learn to care more deeply for the mountain environment and a lot more deeply for each other.
Despite what we see in the mainstream media, talented climbers continue to break extraordinary ground each year, soloing hard routes in Yosemite, free climbing new lines in Patagonia, and forging bold new creations on 6,000- and 7,000-meter peaks in the Himalaya. at groundbreaking attitude will be back on the world’s highest mountains one day soon. Some choose to climb, as Messner says, “on piste.” Others will pioneer harder, faster, and freer ascents. ere is room for both.
Whether we aspire to repeat easy routes or to dream bigger, it’s worth recalling the special combination of ability, drive, innovation, and teamwork that allowed Hornbein and Unsoeld to push their individual limits on the world’s highest peak. ey inspired greater aspirations in all of us.
After years during which Everest was dominated by climbers who generally followed a short list of routes pioneered decades ago, I understand that next summer at least three teams will venture to Everest with new routes in their sights.
On Saturday, April 6, the Colorado Mountain Club and the American Alpine Club celebrated heroes from 1963 at the annual Hall of Mountaineering Excellence Gala to support our Mountaineering Museum. Al Auten, Dave Dingman, Tom Horbein, and Dick Pownall graced the stage for an intimate conversation. Each of the men was soft spoken and humble, crediting others or the entire team for their success.
Dick Pownall’s words were perhaps the most moving. He was climbing with Jake Breitenbach early in the trip when a serac collapsed and killed Jake instantly. “You didn’t have time to do anything,” said Pownall, “It’s like being in a car accident or an explosion.”
Pownall shared the e ect Breitenbach’s death has had on him by admitting that “this is the rst time I’ve talked about it aside from with a few close friends. I guess
The Everest Panel at the 2013 Hall of Mountaineering Excellence Gala and Induction Ceremony. From left to right: Jake Norton (moderator), Al Auten, Dick Pownall, Dave Dingman, and Tom Hornbein. Photo by Craig Hoffman.
2013 inductee Peter Metcalf speaks during the Gala. Metcalf is the co-founder and CEO of Black Diamond Equipment and was one of the pioneer alpinists in Alaska during the 1970s and early 1980s. Photo by Craig Hoffman. ]
50 years later, it’s time. It’s been in my mind every morning after that. You wonder if it’s worth the risk.”
It is a reasonable wonder. And, honestly, a testament to the team and its leader, Dyhrenfurth, that they pressed on in the face of such tragedy, to accomplish so much. △
2013 HaLL of MountainEEring ExcELLEncE inductEEs
■ Nick Clinch ■ Barry Corbet ■ Norman Dyhrenfurth ■ Jeff Lowe ■ Peter Metcalf
