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One man's analysis of the Cerro Torre conflict
I fancy myself an alpine climber, which is to say I once climbed a mountain or two while it was cold outside. (I had to wear a jacket, and my hands got cold; it was very serious.) I also almost booked a ticket to Patagonia once. Taken in concert, I think both these characteristics give me a significant stake and the proper credibility from which to comment on the current David- Lama-takes-a-pick-axe-to-Cerro-Torre conflict. I could wax on and off like the karate kid all day, but the only thing that will get the window clean are the cold, hard-as-Cerro’s granite facts (taken with a bit of hyperbole to keep things interesting, of course). The initial reports went something like this: shortly after sacrificing a group of Argentinean children at the base of the glacier, David Lama took to the face of Cerro Torre with a Hilti and a crazed look in his eye as he bolted a ladder to the top; he was then seen shortly afterward in the Gulf of Mexico freediving to the base of the BP Horizon well with a satchel of explosives in hand.
The firing squad was close on his heels. Nearly every alpine climber had something to say. Steve House labeled it “Red Bull goes BP.” Kelly Cordes called “Red Bullshit” on the whole affair. At last count, the story on Red Bull’s website had accumulated 110 comments accusing Lama and his crew of everything from leaving behind more trash than Jersey to conceiving the antichrist.
The realities were a bit more mundane. Will Gadd took the effort to acquire firsthand information from everyone involved and provided the most in-depth investigation and analysis on his blog. (For you youngsters out there with your crash pads and curvy climbing shoes, Will Gadd is a Canadian who has ruled the ice and mixed climbing scene for the last decade or more. He is also sponsored by Red Bull.) Lama and his partner went up to free the Compressor Route on Cerro Torre, a feat attempted over the years by some hardmen whose names and sponsors I forgot. So Lama and his partner could focus on the climbing, Red Bull sent a film crew headed by a European guide tasked with the responsibility of the rigging and their safety. The film crew added a total of 26 bolts, most of which were off to the side or below the original route. They also left a bunch of gear and ropes on the mountain when forced to retreat in bad weather. All, or nearly all, of that abandoned offal was later removed by guides Red Bull hired for that exact purpose.
Cesare Maestri first made FA claims of the vaunted Torre in 1959, returning from the mountain alone after his partner Toni Egger was swept to his death along with the sole photographic evidence. Subsequent teams have failed to discover any evidence of his presence high on the route; the crotchety Italian even puzzlingly remarked in a 2006 interview, “What I did was the most important endeavor in the world. I did it single-handedly. But this doesn’t mean that I… that I reached the top, do you understand? Do I make myself clear?” No, Cesare, you most certainly do not. In an effort to silence his detractors, Maestri returned to the mountain in 1970 hauling a gas-powered compressor and blasted his way to the top with the shiny comfort of more than 400 bolts. Well, almost the top—he turned back 150 feet shy of the summit in the face of Cerro Torre’s infamous ice mushrooms. Hence the moniker “The Compressor Route.” The ethics of Maestri’s aforementioned first ascent have been volleyed back and forth more than Serena and Venus’ fuzzy, yellow ball. Nonetheless, most alpinists consider it a violent abomination coming in a close second to Dr. Moreau.
In his interview posted on Red Bull’s website before he headed south to the land of empanadas and windstorms, little David made some Goliath claims: “Cesare Maestri, who made the first ascent in 1970, left an entire highway of bolts and pitons in the mountain’s southeast face, which has nothing to do with today’s climbing ethics… Daniel and myself will be carrying all of our stuff into the park and out again. Transport flights are forbidden, but it’s not in our interest to leave any traces anyway.”
Setting aside the singular notoriety of Cerro Torre and the sordid history of the route itself, Lama set a high bar for his trip. Even though he was focused on the climbing, he has rightly acknowledged responsibility for the actions of his film crew. After airing out all the facts, a ripe opportunity existed for the 19-year-old phenom to stand up, address his detractors’ concerns and consensual ethics, and move forward with a renewed credibility and support from the climbing community. Everybody makes mistakes, and even if his weren’t nearly as gratuitous as initially reported, admitting them as error and moving on would have been as simple for the Austrian lad as lacing up his sending shoes.
Maybe we’re getting ahead of ourselves, you say? What iron cast ethic casts aspersions on the actions taken by his crew in the first place? It’s true: there is no fundamental principle we can stand on when it comes to climbing ethics. Ultimately, the ethic of any area, boulder, or mountain rests on the shifting sands of arbitrary consensus. The basis for the rules is less important than the fact that we all agree to play by them.
The storm of controversy surrounding the Compressor Route for the last 40 years gives ample notice to any climber gunning for its rime-plastered summit. Lama knew this. Even if he didn’t, the reaction from the climbing and local community was clear enough. Unfortunately, he has so far ducked his chance to take the heat, admit his mistake, and move forward. In a recent response, Lama appealed to the importance of fi lm projects and photo shoots for vindication of his missteps. He said their decision not to fix more gear would “have consequences on the quality of the production.” Which at best seems more of an obvious skirting of blame.
No one needs to string the boy up. I think (I hope) it’s fair to say he learned something valuable from the sheer amount of detractions posted in every corner of the Internet devoted to climbing. No one wants blood. Rather, two words said with enough sincerity could calm the blood boiling in both the active and armchair alpinists with two hands and a keyboard. Tuck your chin, take a square one on the jaw, and admit your fault in the matter. Then we can all move on to more important issues, like Lil’ Wayne getting released from prison in a month.