Sheer Cliffs and Discerning Risk

On August 13th in 1995, Alison Hargreaves, a wife and mother of two small children, summitted the notorious K2, one of the most dangerous mountains in the world, on whose ice-encrusted face 99 climbers have (so far) perished. This attempt on K2 followed upon the heels of what some thought a quixotically dangerous endeavour to summit all three of the highest mountains in the world in one summer, including Everest and Kangchenjunga.

Alison was very good, one of the best, but inexorable nature, red in tooth and claw, has her way. Although it was a sunny day on the way up, some climbers noticed the weather changing, with a fierce storm setting in. They, including Peter Hillary, son of the famous Edmund, turned around. Alison did not, with six others. On their way down the slopes, the hurricane hit. No one knows quite what happened, but Alison’s bloodied parka and other gear were found on the rocky slopes hundreds of feet below the summit, and her body not far away. The surmise is that all the climbers were simply blown right off the cliff face.

What’s makes this story more tragic is that her son, Tom Ballard, six-years old at his mother’s death, himself grew up to be a professional and highly competent climber. But he too pushed his limits to the edge. With his climbing partner, Daniele Nardi, he attempted the brutal Nanga Parbat in February 2019. They were never returned; both their bodies were found in the inaccessible ‘Mummery Spur’.

The bodies of both mother and son still remain where they perished, at about the same age, 100 miles apart, encased in ice until the end of the world.

Requiescant in pace. Here is Alison’s story:

Then there’s the almost-supernatural phenomenon that is Alex Honnold, the greatest climber the world has likely ever seen, unless pre-lapsarian Adam had some skills of which we know little. Here he is in 2015 free-soloing – that is, without ropes or pitons, and quite literally on the edge of death – El Sendero Luminoso, a 1500-foot sheer cliff. My hands were sweating just watching this.

Risk is a curious thing, for we humans don’t want simply to live, but to live to the full. We take risks all the time: crossing the road; careening in aluminum cars on major highways; swimming in raging oceans or crossing them in fragile boats; and, yes, climbing mountains. (We will leave aside for now moral and psychological risks, like asking a girl out, or even to marry you, or venturing upon the crazy adventure that is marriage – but the same principles apply).

And what are those principles? Well, the Church permits risk, so long as it’s proportionate to the end or goal intended. Here are some things to ponder.

There is the inherent danger involved, to oneself and others. Could this lead to harm or death, or to sorrow and hardship for those who may grieve our loss?

We should also consider others’ dependence upon us, emotional, spiritual, financial. This plays especially into the considerations of those who are fathers and mothers, not least of small children.

How skilled are we in handling the risk? Alex Honnold seems rather comfortable balancing on one inch of rock a thousand feet from the ground. He claims he’s not petrified – pardon the pun – for if he were, he wouldn’t do it (like the rest of sane humanity). They’ve done studies on his brain, and his ‘fear centre’ (in the amygdala) shows far less response than normal.

But there are the external factors – how solid is the rock on which he balances? And for Alison, there were the constantly changing weather in the mountains. There is also exhaustion, our own emotions, and the mistakes or incompetency of other people.

At the end of the day, we have to ask ourselves why we’re taking the risk and is it worth it. Some risks are unavoidable, such as driving, taking airplanes, riding a bike, eating food. Others are done more for fun, which is not wrong, so long as all in balance. Adrenaline can be a drug, and dangers deliberately increases as things become too ‘easy and safe’. High risk sports are prey to this – base jumpers, wing-suit flyers who want to ‘touch’ the cliffs at 100 miles per hour, and Honnold who can’t wait to ‘get off the ropes’ and go free solo.

People say that Alison died ‘doing what she loved’, but that would give small comfort to her little children and husband, whom, we may presume, she loved more than mountain climbing, and who loved her more than she loved mountain climbing. We don’t know why Alison Hargreaves felt she had to get to the top of K2 on that fateful August day. The short documentary above claims there were financial reasons, to please her sponsors and fans, but there may have been ambition, glory, and, as Edmund Hillary responded when asked why he had risked his life climbing Everest, ‘because it’s there’. Still, if I were accompanying him, or his son, and they had decided to turn around, likely so would I.

I enjoy risks now and again, and do offer gratitude to God that I have so far lived another day from those I have taken. Still, we should at least consider slowing down and not moving so fast, and making the morning last. Enjoy God’s great outdoors for their own inherent beauty and majesty, and not primarily for the thrill its dangers may give, even if these may at times offer an extra, shall we say, frisson. All in balance and proportion.