Of Love and Mountains: Thoughts on Free Soloing
My childhood best friend occasionally sends me a message to check in, asking questions about climbing or showing me a picture of something that looks particularly sketchy, but in reality, is quite safe. To no fault of her own, she lacks knowledge or awareness in general about outdoor rock climbing. For example, last week she inquired about cairns and would it be ok to move them off of trails? I responded with a firm “no”.
But I find her general bewilderment of the sport endearing as I take a few moments to explain certain aspects of outdoor rock climbing. “I mean, it’s one thing to do it with a rope to keep you from plummeting!” she exclaimed over the phone to me. “It’s beyond fucked up.”
It’s not that she is wrong; free soloing is sort of its own beast. She continues on to make several more points to express feelings of reverential respect mixed with anxiety and fear, but in the end, she tells me, “I could never do what you do.”
A few years ago, Matt O’Connor invited me to end our climbing day free soloing Betty. It’s a fun and easy 5.3 in the Gunks and I was perhaps, a little smitten with Matt at the time, so I probably would have followed him up anything. But truthfully, the climb was amazing and every ounce of 5.3—Betty was abundant with face holds everywhere you turned. We scrambled up and then back down down the Uberfall Descent just as swiftly. I wasn’t necessarily hooked or anything, like, I don’t jones to go climbing enough to leave my rack and rope at home. But it was fun. It was in that moment I then revised my opinion of free soloing.Ok, so maybe people free solo easier things that are well below their limit. That’s ok, that makes sense.
A significant amount of time has passed between Betty and the present day. I never free soloed anything since then but have considered High Exposure or Son of Easy O, climbs I’ve done an innumerable amount of times, aware of every crack, seam, and ripple. Always, in the back of my mind, I think, maybe. “Just because you can do something doesn’t necessarily mean you should!” I had declared long ago. But things change—our opinions change—as we do. How we feel about anything is shaped by our own personal experiences. Climbing is no exception.
It’s important that free soloing be accepted among climbers—though not without careful consideration. Soloists are important to the sport because ultimately, they inspire us. I have often thought that those who accomplish the impossible change the world, showing the full spectrum of impossible and possible and then, where they lie on that spectrum. That is what changes how we approach our own personal Dawn Walls.
However, the risk of free soloing goes far beyond our own mortality. We applaud Alex Honnold for his recent free solo of El Cap (which is considered the greatest pure feat of rock climbing to-date), but are also uncomfortably aware of the consequences had he not succeeded. The repercussions of high-risk climbing are not lost on any of us, and whether roped up or ropeless, we all share a heavy responsibility. It’s a responsibility that encompasses loved ones, but also—a generation of climbers we don’t know and in all actuality, may never meet. Does glorifying free soloing, in some capacity, encourage younger climbers? Just like my Muggle friend, naive to knowledge most climbers would consider common, newer generations rely on the words and traditions we pass down to them. What do the young minds think?
No, not every climber is going to run out and free solo because Honnold soloed El Cap. But he did an incredible thing that has never been done before, and it’s left a lasting impression on all of us. Should even one climber have the notion that they would, too, free solo and meet a fateful end—then it’s one too many.
I read this on a Reddit thread the other day:
“For context: I've been climbing for 7 years, soloing for 3. I consistently climb 5.11 trad. I've soloed up to 5.10a, but generally keep it to 5.8 and under.
For me, the appeal of free solo climbing is not to push my boundaries, conquer fear, and stare death in the face. I free solo mainly to experience routes I would not otherwise do, to move quickly and efficiently over the rock, and for the meditative state it brings. Ask me to climb Cathedral Peak in Yosemite with you (5P, 5.6) and I'll likely turn you down; being on the wall for hours on an easy route just doesn't sound appealing. Take the rope away and suddenly that climb becomes one long pitch of beautiful climbing, no waiting, no fiddling with gear, just a calm dance up the wall, bottom to top in less time than we'd finish the first pitch on a rope.
I have been truly scared doing it. One day, early in my soloing career, I stupidly decided to summit a peak in the Yosemite back country that I knew nothing about. The line looked good from the base but I discovered halfway up that the rock was really loose. At one point, with a left hand jammed securely in the crack, my right foot and handhold both broke in succession, and for a moment my entire body was suspended by my left hand. It was a straight 60ft drop to the next ledge, and had that left hand slipped I would have died. My view on free soloing changed a lot that day. I still do it often, but I am much more cautious. I rather like being alive.
Free solo if you want. Done right it can be a very rewarding experience. Done wrong, you won't be doing it long. Make smart choices, don't be afraid to back off something, and never overestimate your abilities.”
Even a climber who has been free soloing for three years admits that he has truly been scared doing it. I’m not denying that climbing is inherently risky already with a rope, however, to truly appreciate these risks we should approach them with a level of maturity, maybe a little more respect, and a little less glorification, for posterity’s sake.