CLIMBING TO 8,000 METERS SIMPLY TO SKI
March 28 , 2007
In our haste to push into the final frontiers of outdoor recreation, we are running the risk of tarnishing the reputation of the greatest mountain in the world and in the process diminishing the sport of mountaineering into that of a meaningless pastime.
Justifiably or not, Everest is the public’s measuring stick of, not only mountaineering, but arguably of all great outdoor adventures. As it becomes easier and easier to get to the summit of Earth’s highest point, by comparison every other wilderness endeavor becomes less meaningful regardless of the actual difficulty involved or skills required for the achievement.
The “get to the top using any method” mentality that prevails on Mt. Everest today mirrors a prevalent attitude in society where we don’t care how we accumulate our wealth just as long as we have it and everybody knows we have it. We all profess to know that it is the journey and not destination that matters, yet what we know doesn’t translate into what we do. If we don’t make it to the top of Mt. Everest we have failed.
Oftentimes today a “mountaineer’s” resume reads something like this: climbed Mt. Rainier (with a guide), Climbed Mt. McKinley (with a guide), Climbed Mt. Everest (with a guide, Sherpas, and supplemental oxygen). End of mountain climbing career.
It is more than ironic that a great number of climbers who have summated the world’s highest peak have never climbed a mountain alone. They have very little knowledge of the mountain environment or the skills required when visiting there. What small percentage of Everest climbers could set a fixed line much less set up their own camps? How many are able to assess avalanche or weather conditions; evaluations on which their very lives depend.
Reinhold Messner has commented on the “infrastructure of Everest” which is basically the systematic method that has been put in place on the mountain which enables practically anyone to get to the summit.
It has been proven that human beings can climb to the summit of Everest without oxygen. Yet, the vast majority of Everest climbers still rely on it. Sherpas and guides do most of the thinking and physically demanding work eliminating the need for strategizing, strength, and skill on the part of the climber. These are the factors that usually separate sport from mere activity.
Mike and Steve Marolt are two climbers who have resisted the tendency to judge the success of their accomplishments by a simply defined outcome no matter the means to get there. They did not become climbers by way of post-college identity crises or via bouts of mid-life crises.
The brothers began climbing long before they knew they were mountain climbers; playing on the less than massive 700 foot peak near their childhood home in Aspen, Colorado with friends. They fell off small boulders and lost footholds on low angled slabs as kids are prone to do while exploring in relatively safe environments.
Their interest in larger local mountains began in their teen years as they drove into the mountains to ski year-round snowfields with their father Max, who had bought an old mining claim underneath one ice patch for no other reason than that he loved to ski and wanted to run a summer racing camp for kids there.
Climbing to the top of 14,000 foot Castle Peak towering above that snowfield didn’t occur to the boys until years afterwards. Skiing was the challenge and the thrill. Simply walking to the top of that mountain “looked boring”.
As the brothers grew older, they began looking for more adventures to share with their friends. They climbed peaks so that they could ski new routes. They camped above timberline in the wintertime just to see what it was like spend the night in a raging blizzard. They hiked hundreds of miles over several days, once to Vail and another time to Telluride, to see if they could find their way by reckoning compasses to topographic maps and find out if it was possible to plan for most eventualities and carry enough supplies on their backs to survive for eight nights completely removed from civilization.
Their interest in mountaineering came more out of curiosity than from any latent desires for recognition. The two became intrigued by how their bodies could perform under the adverse conditions of severe physical stress brought about from working hard in thin, cold air. They searched for unique things to do with good people to do them with. Sitting around camp talking about the trip and the things they were doing was as much of the attraction to their adventures as were the physical aspects.
A summit day dialogue that took place between the brothers on Shishapagma in Tibet, where in ‘2000 they became the first people in North America to ski from 8000 meters, poignantly and directly lays out their attitude towards mountaineering. Exhausted and suffering half way through their summit day Mike suggested to Steve that they had a much better chance of gaining the top if they dropped their skis and continued on without them. “I’m not standing on that summit without my skis,” Steve replied. “I’ll go as high as I can carry ‘em.” Without further discussion, they shouldered their loads and kept plodding; right to the top of the central peak, 8,012 meters above the beaches where other North Americans vacationed.
They attempted Everest this past spring, for a second time. Their primary goal, once again, was to ski. The far distant second, was to reach the summit; without the aid of Sherpas or supplemental oxygen. In order to acclimate to the thin Himalayan air, they scaled nearby Cho Oyu, the worlds sixth highest mountain, and skied from its summit, proving to themselves that Shishapangma seven years earlier was no fluke. Back on Everest two weeks later, they ended up skiing from 7,650 meters; the summit that eluded them once again was only an afterthought.
Upon their return, many people tried to console them over their perceived failure; especially in light of the heavily publicized fact that record numbers of climbers did make the summit, as per usual these springs.
Sometimes it bothers the brothers that people just don’t understand what they are all about. In all of history, there have been fewer than 50 ski descents from 8,000 meters and less than a dozen by Americans. Of these ski descents from the “dreaded death zone” (above 25,000 feet) six of them are by the twins, one more by long-time climbing partner Jim Gile, and another by their cousin, each of these accompanied with them. Almost anyone can make the summit with bottled oxygen and Sherpas. The question that few ever consider is: which is a bigger deal?
For Mike and Steve Marolt, mountaineering is like art. They don’t create pop art to be appreciated by the masses raised on the culture of Bart Simpson. What they create is a labor of love; appreciated by few and respected by those who know.
For them, spending time on the world’s highest peaks comes down to a simple equation: if you can’t ski it, there is not much reason to climb it and, the higher you get the more you get to ski. So some place between base camp and the summit they will again strap on their skis. And with a little luck, that might just be at the summit.
