commercial mountaineering

It looked like a good year to come to Denali. Prior to our arrival there had been an unprecedented spell of good weather and people were climbing straight up and reaching the summit without a hitch. But the good weather was certain to break eventually. Would it continue long enough for us?

When Belmore Browne and Herschel Parker had to turn around just 50m short of the summit of Denali during a storm in 1912, it would have been hard for them to imagine there could be any consolation in such bad luck. But sometimes the mountain is trying to tell you something, and when that happens it’s always worth listening.

Today is the 60th anniversary of the first ascent of Everest by Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay. I expect there will be quite a few editorial pieces published today reflecting on how the mountain has changed in the intervening years. I expect most of them will lament the changes as a bad thing, but I’m going to adopt a slightly different stance in this post.

This is a post I have been meaning to write for a while. Much has been written by westerners about Sherpas over the last hundred years, but the voice of the Sherpas themselves is rare. I can’t provide it, but I can provide my own perspective of a people who have given me many happy memories, taken me to places I could never have been without them, and put their lives at risk to help me.

There’s nothing like a negative Everest story to trigger a flurry of publishing absurdity. For example, some people say Everest has now become so crowded with commercial expeditions there is no longer any room for real climbers, an argument that can be easily refuted with a single photograph.

Photographs of members of the Russian 7 Summits Club playing pool at base camp on Everest’s north side will have raised the blood pressure of a few purists who believe such luxuries have no place in mountaineering, but a bit of pampering at base camp has long been a part of expeditions to the 8000m peaks.

This time last year I was lying in a tent on the north side of Everest, listening to a deafening wind pound against the nylon beside my head. Every spring a few hundred people seek to share my experience by trying to climb Everest, and thanks to the miracle of modern communications, it’s possible to watch from the sidelines.

It’s not always wise or worthwhile to respond to a rant, but occasionally something you hold dear is attacked so mercilessly that you can’t help yourself. There’s been quite a lot of nonsense published about last month’s avalanche on Manaslu,

As Martin Luther King once said, “I have a dream”. Mine perhaps isn’t quite as worthy as his, but in its own way it’s just as heartfelt. I dream that one day everyone who climbs Everest will enjoy it, not just for the climb itself, but the whole experience of being in the mountains.

On the eve of the Paralympics there was a timely film on UK television this week about a group of remarkable disabled mountaineers on an expedition to the Himalayas, which also provided some insight into one of the most talked

A good year to climb Denali (if you’re lucky)

When the mountain is trying to tell you something

Is it a bad thing the world is becoming more accessible?

A tribute to Sherpas, the tigers of the snow

Everest is not for climbers – you’re joking aren’t you!

How civilised does an expedition base camp have to be?

Following the Everesters

In defence of Manaslu (and commercial mountaineering)

The people who give Everest a bad name

Why did Harry’s Mountain Heroes leave Everest early?