HOW not WHAT - Reflections by Dani Arnold
Is speed above any mountaineering ethics? This is a question that has occupied me for more than ten years. Those who practice mountaineering professionally have to deliver records: fastest, first, youngest.... Without superlatives, no publicity. Without publicity, no sponsorships. But far too often, the public compares performances that are not comparable. I am not a man of many words, but this topic is important to me. That's why I've put my thoughts on it down on paper.
It is no secret that I have climbed many routes in the mountains faster than ever before. I am aware that this has made me famous and that I benefit a lot from this fame to this day. I feel incredibly fortunate for the privilege of being able to climb like this. And, quite honestly, I also have enormous fun climbing through the big walls at this pace.
But is it only about this speed? About the speed record, in other words: no matter how, just climb as fast as possible? To put speed above everything? To prepare routes to be a few seconds faster? To take the easiest route? To stand on pitons? Pulling yourself up on friends? Subordinating all mountaineering ethics to speed? To choose ice and snow routes instead of the classic, "slower" rock routes? To abandon one's own principles in order to be as fast as possible?
My answer is: NO, I personally am NOT about speed without ethics. Therefore, I would like to clarify here some points that are very important to me.
The supreme discipline of alpinism: challenge through variants
For me personally, a good mountaineer is someone who has a fairly high level in all disciplines, that is, on rock, on ice, in mixed terrain, on high mountains and in many regions of the world. The supreme discipline for me is alpinism, the first ascent of new routes in the alpine environment, which includes steep rock and ice passages. It's not just about mastering high levels of difficulty in different terrain, but also about mastering uncertainty, the possibility of not making it or even having an accident. This is a big difference compared to pure sport climbing, for example. If I make a mistake in sport climbing, I fall into the rope. If the same mistake happens to me in alpine terrain, I can die.
Then, of course, there are many sub-disciplines of it and so some personal preferences, after all, you can not practice all the basic disciplines in all regions of the world. To prove ourselves and stand out from other climbers, we are constantly looking for new ways and creative solutions. Then, perhaps, speed is added to mountaineering - or the attempt to climb a route in winter - or the ascent alone instead of in a rope team. All these are variations of alpinism to express ourselves, to prove ourselves and our skills. I deliberately look for situations that challenge me. That's why I'm not interested in a quick, easy success. The more I invest, the greater the satisfaction.
The ultimate experience: Solo or Free Solo
For me, being alone in the mountains is the ultimate experience. In this situation, you make all the decisions just for you. On nine out of ten tours it's different, here we make decisions as a team for the team. Achieving something together is almost as intense as going it alone, but that's another topic. Back to solo climbing: I try to reach as high a level as possible in the individual disciplines so that I then have enough strength, technique, endurance and experience in the complex terrain. Because that's the only way I can reach the goal as planned. The question here is: What is the goal? Is it the summit and the time? Or is it the process on the way to the goal? I am always happy to stand on the summit, however I find the preparation for it much more satisfying. In the process I make progress, gain important knowledge, find new techniques, optimize everything. If you've done all that right, I think, standing at the top is nothing more than a logical consequence.
In the past, I didn't think so much about it. For me it was always clear HOW I wanted to do a project. Now there are more and more mixed forms, which are all legitimate for me. Everyone can do what he wants and how he wants. But when comparisons are made, which is usually the case, I find it crucial what is being compared. From the outside, it is quite difficult to recognize these differences. Therefore, I try to explain my style a bit here.
Project planning: conflicting goals, principles and trade-offs
When I set my sights on a project, I think about how I want to tackle it. Do I go alone or in a rope team? What equipment do I take with me? Which line do I choose? Solo or free solo? How do I document everything? - Above all, I want to come home healthy again. This brings some challenges and conflicts, because on the one hand I want to be on the road as uncompromisingly as possible, but on the other hand I want to have the greatest possible safety. I don't want to make any mistakes, but at the same time I want to create as great an experience as possible. I want to show myself personally what I can do and what I have learned. In doing so, I have to go to my limits. How do I bring all this together? I have to find my own way to do it.
This brings me to another critical question: Am I doing this project for me or for others? I make my living from mountaineering, I depend on something about me being in the public eye from time to time. This is important for me. However, I have never approached a project for that reason. I have never been in search of quick success in the media. I am most proud when I have achieved something that I have worked out myself, staying true to my own principles! That's why for me the walk-throughs of "Anubis" and "The Hurting" in Scotland are something of the most important. Especially Anubis, because I wanted to discover everything on my own. I knew from the climbing guide where the route was, but there was only a line drawn in a big overview picture. It would have been easy to ask the first climber for details, I know Dave McLeod well. But I didn't want to do that! Since the route has no fixed material (except a fixed wedge at the beginning), I could not orient myself well either. As a result, in the middle of the wall I didn't know whether it was going straight up or out to the right. This unsettled me so much that I fell. I failed. Later I saw in another guidebook that the route continues straight up. A year later, I was able to climb it successfully. For me, the climbing style is more important than success.
A word about the big difference between Free Solo and Solo. Solo means simply alone, I have the material with me, can belay if necessary, etc.. Free Solo means doing without everything during the ascent: no rope, no harness, no carabiner, nothing. However, on some free solos I have deposited a rope at the exit beforehand to get back down. I'm not very proud of that, but the rope had no effect on the actual record. It makes a huge difference if I have the possibility to belay or not. On my last big north face, the Petit Dru in Chamonix, I would have loved to climb free solo. For me personally, that would have been the style I wanted to do it, so it would have been right. However, in the days before, I could observe the water ice just below the summit, which thawed during the day and froze again during the night. Usually you can see these spots quite badly and they are less than a millimeter thick. They carry some risks. The uncertainty of how these places would be then led me to climb "only" solo. I didn't need the rope during the whole climb. But yes, I did not dare to climb this route Free Solo at that time!
In focus: classic routes of the first ascenders
As already mentioned, my view of such things was not so clear at the beginning. For example, on the north face of the Eiger: I had 50 meters of rope, a harness and some belay equipment with me, so I went solo. At that time, I never considered going free solo. It was also clear to me that I would use the rope to get across at the Hinterstoisser traverse. It was only years later that I saw that there are conditions - albeit extremely rare - where the snow on the slab sticks so strongly that you can make this left traverse without a rope. A mistake in terms of my climbing ethics. As I said, it was the right thing for me to do at that time and I still stand by it today. But what was already clear at that time: I would never simply pull myself up on a piton or slings in order to be faster. On the Eiger, two climbers saw me, because of whom I had to climb a bypass above the waterfall chimney. This place is very exposed, much more difficult than the normal route and has two old pitons in it. The two climbers can confirm that I did not touch these pitons.
I have climbed all the big north faces via the classic routes alone and fast. Why did I choose the classic routes? Because that's where the most significant stories were written. There are well over thirty routes on the Eiger north face, many ending halfway up the west ridge or even further down. These routes would be faster, but they simply no longer have anything to do with the classic line of 1938. Even on the Matterhorn, it would have been faster to climb up to the left after the ramp and then take the normal route to the summit. But the first climbers, the Schmid brothers, climbed exactly there further to the right, once again back to the central part of the wall. So I also chose this route.
If I could pick the perfect terrain to climb fast, it would be very hard and steep firn. Just as many routes on the Grandes Jorasses are in good conditions. But the classic route goes over the Walkerpfeiler, and there the rock part predominates. For me it was clear that I wanted to go up there as well. On Badile, I climbed from the glacier below. That makes today almost no one more, because in addition still the ice material is needed. First ascent Cassin is but up there and not further up reingequert!
Two other points are important for me to explain: First, it is about preparing and auzubouldern routes: For example, to climb the Salbit West Ridge, you have to rappel a few times. There are rappelling rings there for that purpose. If there were a carabiner placed there instead, which you could open, it would save time. Because then I could just clip the rope in half and rappel instead of pulling half the rope through this ring. But that was the right way for me to do it.
And secondly, it's about the markings on the route: for many, it's quite normal to make a mark at the key point so that you know where it's best to hold the handle. That's not a problem either. But if I now have to mark entire routes with magnesium strokes to know where the right and left hand should reach for each move, I find that very unattractive.
Route finding in the north faces is sometimes quite complex, the more often I climb these routes in preparation, the more details I know and the more efficient and faster I am. Good climbers do not need hundreds of attempts to be successful. As a result, for example, I climbed the Badile only twice before going solo, the Comici on the big pinnacle only three times, and the Grandes Jorasses only three times. On the Eiger, I don't remember exactly, between five and six times, and the Petit Dru twice before the actual ascent. If I wanted to be even faster, I could climb these routes more often to train. But for me, this radical path was the right approach.
Conclusion: Fairness and transparency are central
In the previous sections I have tried to show how I have realized some of my big projects and what has been important to me. This is very personal and perhaps delicate, but I think: if you make a living from mountaineering and want to compare yourself with the big names in our sport, it is a question of fairness to make these details transparent, because only in this way can the great achievements in our sport be compared with each other.
Our passion offers so much. Everyone finds his or her personal challenge. We have the opportunity and the freedom to do anything we want. But we have to bear the consequences ourselves. Try to be careful, there are many dangers lurking in our mountains, prepare yourself well, only go to the mountains with friends you trust and have fun with. If you want to get to the top and make a living out of mountaineering, please be honest and transparent. This will also give the interested public a chance to really appreciate your achievements.
Dani Arnold, January 2023