Olympic medals and Everest

The debate over whether climbers and mountaineers should compete for medals in organised events has been going on for decades. In the mid-1970s there was furious opposition from British climbers to a USSR suggestion that the sport should be part of the Olympics (see end of article), but more latterly there has been some excitement that ice climbing will be a cultural event at the 2014 winter games - not to mention climbing being considered for the main Olympics in 2020.

Against this background, the Mount Everest Foundation recently organised a discussion, Race to the Top - What place does competition have in the mountains?, at the Royal Geographical Society.

The starting point for the evening was Kenton Cool's talk about his expedition to take a 1924 Olympic Gold Medal for Alpinism to the summit of Everest. Following the success 1922 assault on the mountain in which the team got to within 500 metres of the top, the International Olympic Committee decided to mark the achievement by awarding medals to all 21 members of the team. The presentation was made at the 1924 Winter Olympic Games and Edward Strutt, deputy leader of expedition, vowed to return to Everest and leave one of the medals at the summit.  However, by that time a number of the climbers were already on their way back to Tibet for another attempt at the mountain and the promise remained unfulfilled. Cool finally honoured the pledge in May 2012 by taking a medal that had belonged to Dr Arthur Wakefield, the oldest member of the group, to get to the top.

Manchester Guardian, 6 February 1924

It was an exciting and enthusiastic talk, illustrated with dramatic film footage of Cool's ascent. While a cynic might suggest the whole medal business was just an excuse to make another adventure film, set in the context of the excitement surrounding the 2012 Olympics, and the heroic story of George Mallory and the climbing pioneers of the 1920s, the whole exercise seemed to make perfect sense.

Why people actually want to go up mountains was explored by Sir Chris Bonington. One of the key differences with other sports, he said, is the element of risk. Bonington gave the example of the 1977 Ogre expedition where, despite Doug Scott having to crawl down the mountain due to breaking both legs above the ankles, and suffering broken ribs himself, there was a certain exhilaration of just being where they were, high on the mountain. He also showed a rare 1970 interview with Dougal Haston and Don Whillans on Annapurna. Asked why he climbed, Whillans said it was partly to do with the fact that as a tradesman, he liked to do a job well. This 'practical' approach, he contrasted with his climbing partner's 'intellectual' approach. Haston claimed the attraction of the sport was the opportunity of being in charge of your own world. Both were valid points but Bonington admitted that climbers can be very egotistical, wanting recognition from their peers.

Graham Tiso, Peak Lenin, 1974

The danger of climbing for more than just peer recognition was explored by Doug Scott. In 1974 he was invited to take part in an International climbing camp in the Pamirs, at the invitation of the Russian Mountaineering Federations. The purpose of the gathering was in part due to the Russians' wish to promote high altitude climbing as part of the Olympic Games. Unfortunately eight women climbers from the host nation died near the summit of Peak Lenin. Apart from being badly equipped, they were under pressure to succeed which may well have led to them making the wrong decisions high up on the mountain. (A Scottish team was also invited to the camp).

If Olympic medals were indeed to be awarded for mountaineering achievement, Sandy Allan and Rick Allen would be in line for the gold. Earlier this year they conquered the Mazeno ridge on Nanga Parbat – one or the last great climbs in the Himalayas. Their story can be read in this Observer piece.

The panel discussion included the speakers plus Lindsay Griffin and Phil Bartlett, and chaired by Ed Douglas. It soon became clear that two strands of the sport were being debated: organised competitions on artificial walls, and serious ascents at high altitude. The general consensus appeared to be that it is fine to make awards after the event - such as the Piolets d'Or or indeed something like the 1924 medals - but pointless, if not impossible to operate and very dangerous if designed to get people to 'race to the top'. It was also mentioned that such awards usually come from outside the sport, not the actual practioners.

There was also agreement, or at least a tolerance in some quarters, that there is no harm in the organised climbing competition. Kenton Cool though did make a strong case, citing the fact that with 'mountaineering' being one of only four sports in the UK to show an increase in participation, it should be in the Olympics. If nothing else it would raise the profile and attract sponsorship. Apart from that though, as anyone who has ever watched such an event will know, they can be incredibly exciting, and easily on a par with many other Olympic sports. As an example, Ed Douglas urged the audience to take a look at  footage of British climber Fran Brown, Paraclimbing world champion.

The event was held to raise money for the Mount Everest Foundation and Community Action Nepal.

The Guardian, 29 October 1976:

Fine dining on Everest

The news that an Everest expedition plans to eat a series of gourmet meals all the way up the mountain was guaranteed to ensure a few headlines. Climbers on the Iceland Everest 2011 will have food prepared by an expedition chef and served on tables with linen, napkins and fine wine. Catalan chicken and boeuf bourguignon are just some of the delights that will replace the usual rehydrated mush. Alan Hinkes, a member of the climbing team, can be heard talking about the expected culinary delights on a recent BBC Radio 4 Today programme.

Of course fine dining on Himalayan mountains is hardly a new phenomenon. The 1924 British expedition's provisions included quail in foie gras, 1915 vintage Montebello champagne and crystallised ginger, all supplied by Fortnum & Mason. Going further back, in 1906 Dr and Mrs Bullock Workman were said to enjoy champagne and 'jugged hare in tins' while climbing in the mountains of Kashmir. Meanwhile, on the 1930 international expedition to Kangchenjungu, Hettie Dyhrenfurth, wife of its leader GO Dyhrenfurth, was responsible for managing provisions and equipment. As the Manchester Guardian reported, supplies included "dainties and essentials ranging from caviare and pate de foie gras...to say nothing of a ton or more of chocolate. For liquid nourishment there are, among other things, 500 bottles of Munich beer, cases of whisky, rum, champagne, brandy and different kinds of liqueurs".

A serious amount of booze was also taken on the 1936 French attempt of Hidden Peak - "unnecessary luxuries" as Frank Smythe put it in a review of Himalayan Assault, the book of the expedition (Observer, September 28, 1938). Beyond this though, the review is an interesting account of the changes taking place in mountaineering during the 1930s.

George Everest and the Manor Hotel

Christmas travel plans included staying at the Manor Hotel, Crickhowell in south Wales. Plenty of character in a fantastic location, it's also supposed to be the birthplace of George Everest in 1790 - although the building was then known as the Manor of Gwernvale.


While the world's highest mountain was named after Everest in 1856, the military engineer and geodesist was always rather embarrassed by the honour. The story goes that in 1852, Radhanath Sikhdar who worked for the Grand Trigonometrical Survey of India, discovered what he thought was the highest peak in the world. Several years later this was confirmed and despite it already being called Chomolungma by the Tibetans and Sagarmatha by the Nepalese (words not deemed "intelligible to civilised man"), the British decided to name it after Colonel George Everest, head of the survey.

News of the great discovery eventually reached the British papers - the following Manchester Guardian article appearing on October 7 1856 (lifted from the Times, as was the custom in those days).

1921 British Reconnaissance Expedition to Everest

The latest issue of Footless Crow features a first hand account by George Mallory of the 1921 British Reconnaissance Expedition to Everest. Despite various problems members of the team got up to 23,000 feet and saw the way up to the final ridge quite clearly.

Once back in the UK, Mallory was part of lecture series about the assault on the mountain - and the forthcoming 1922 expedition. The following review appeared in the Manchester Guardian on January 11 1922. Interestingly, though, three days later the paper also covered the lecture given at Manchester Free Trade Hall where it was noted that the speaker was "sparing in his use of maps". A later piece also revealed that Mallory stated what a pleasure it was to read the Guardian Weekly on Everest.

(click to enlarge)

Everest season

This year's Everest season is producing yet more mountaineering firsts. Jordan Romero, at the age of 13, has become the youngest person to scale the summit, while last week Bonita Norris claimed the title of youngest British woman to get there. However, lest anyone think climbing Everest it is a pushover, the Observer printed an account of just how dangerous the mountain can be.

Another climber going for a record is Duncan Chessell who is aiming to become the first Australian to climb Everest three times. On the descent he plans to look for the body of Andrew 'Sandy' Irvine, which, if found, will prove an Englishman got to the summit 30 years before Sir Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay. Irvine and George Mallory were last seen on the ascent, a few hundred metres from top, in June 1924. Mallory's body was found in 1999 but certain pieces of equipment, including cameras, and personal effects were not located. The body of Irvine has never been found.

Reading about this reminded me Mother Goddess of the World, a 1980s account of young Americans looking for Mallory and Irvine. Don't worry if you haven't heard of this infamous expedition as it's one of four stories that make up Kim Stanley Robinson's Escape from Kathmandu. This Nepal-based fiction revolves around the misadventures of George and Freds, part of the US expatriate mountaineer/traveller community.

Mother Goddess sees George unwillingly roped into climbing Everest with Freds and an oft-reincarnated Tibetan Guru, while on a mission to hide the bodies of the 1920s climbers from an expedition - not unlike Chessell's. Other characters include some naive English climbers and a documentary filmmaker who specialises in voyeurism. It's a hilarious tale that should be read alongside all the po-faced news reports about Mallory's tweed jacket, lost film etc, etc.

Alfred Gregory

The death of Alfred Gregory, the mountaineer and photographer who recorded the Everest expedition of 1953, has seen two fine obituaries appear in British newspapers: Jim Perrin's in the Guardian and Stephen Venables's in the Independent. Examples of his work can been here and here, plus there are more pictures and extracts from Alfred Gregory: Photographs from Everest to Africa on Penguin Books Australia's website.

Hunt for lost camera on Everest

The hunt for Mallory and Irvine's lost camera is becoming the Holy Grail of Mountaineering. As the Adventure Blog reports, this Spring will see yet another expedition heading to Everest in the hope of finding the Vest Pocket Kodak that may just prove that the mountain was climbed in 1924.

Just to recap, George Mallory and Andrew 'Sandy' Irvine were part of the third attempt on the 'Third Pole,' as Edward Whymper once dubbed it. On June 6 1924, the two climbers set out from their high camp at 23,100 feet to make a bid for the summit. They were last spotted on the afternoon of June 8 by Noel Odell who saw them near the Second step, a rock step at the base of the "summit pyramid."

The discovery of Mallory's body in 1999 reignited the debate as to whether they were in fact the first to reach the summit, nearly three decades before Hillary and Tenzing. Evidence cited that they had indeed been successful included the fact that there was no sign of a photograph of Mallory's wife Ruth on his body suggesting that he'd placed it on the summit. However, there was no concrete proof in the form of the camera and film.

Now, Everest historian, Tom Holzel, claims to have used high resolution satellite photos to try and locate the body of Irvine. Plenty of detail can be found on the Velocity Press site.

Meanwhile, on the Nepalese side of the Everest, a Sherpa led expedition is planning to clean up more than two tonnes of rubbish discarded in the "death zone", the area above 8,000 metres. Almost 4,000 people have climbed the mountain since 1953 and the higher slopes are littered with everything from old flags, tents, human waste and even a couple of dead bodies that have been there for years.

Sir Edmund Hillary

While Sir Edmund Hillary will always be known as the conqueror of Everest (along with Tenzing Norgay), his achievements post June 1953 were arguably more impressive. He not only climbed 10 other peaks in the Himalaya, went to the North and South Poles, but his charity work in Nepal - of which he was most proud of - greatly improved the welfare of the Sherpa people.

Hillary raised money to develop schools and hospitals as well as being one of the first to start talking about protecting the environment around Everest. See Frank Brown's article in the Financial Times where he describes the former bee-keeper as "a real model for our leaders of tomorrow".

Hidden Histories of Exploration

The Hidden Histories of Exploration exhibition at the Royal Geographical Society (RGS) highlights the role of 'local' people in many of the great expeditions of the past. As Felix Driver, one of its researchers, has said "There's something about exploration which encourages an emphasis on the lone heroic explorer. We want to change the perspective and look at who the explorers depended on."

For example, naturalists such as Alfred Russel Wallace relied on indigenous collectors to gather materials in the field, the knowledge of native inhabitants was essential when making maps, while almost every kind of expedition relied on local manpower to cart equipment across deserts, up mountains etc. Even David Livingstone, perhaps the most famous of the 'lone travellers', had support while tramping around the jungles of Central Africa.

Exhibits include images of exploration since 1800 such as paintings by Thomas Baines (1820-1875), photographs, and documentary film footage from the 1922 Everest Expedition. The latter, in particular, provides a fascinating glimpse of Tibetan life, as well as shots of the climbers pretending to enjoy their yak butter tea. To make this film though, John Noel, needed eight Sherpas to assist him.

This idea of exploration being more than just the lone European explorer was something I tried to reflect in Those Who Dared. This was easier said than done with most reports usually concentrating on British adventurers. However, I did manage to find a few pieces such as a feature on Nain Singh, the famous pundit, from 1903. Pundits were native surveyors used by the British to map areas in the Himalaya, and particular Tibet, that were out of bounds to Europeans. Often disguised as traders, they would conceal sextants in specially designed secret pockets and hide their results in Tibetan Prayer wheels, which were supposed to contains strips of paper with prayers written on them.

The exhibition runs until December 10 2009. An interview with Felix Driver can be read here.

Lakeland climbing

A couple of news snippets about Lakeland climbing caught my eye today. Firstly, in the Guardian's Country diary Tony Greenbank reminisces about climbing a streaming wet Kern Knotts Chimney with two people who worked for K shoes of Kendal, sometime in the 1950s. All very interesting, but he also mentions that K Shoes used to be called Somervell Bros, and that a family member was Howard Somervell, of Everest fame. An experienced alpine climber and surgeon, he joined both the 1922 and 1924 expeditions, and was a close friend of George Mallory.

Following the attempts on Everest, Somervell turned his back on a prestigious surgeon’s job in London and instead worked for nearly 40 years as a missionary doctor in South India before retiring to the English Lake District. His book, After Everest: The Experiences of a Mountaineer and Medical Missionary, is well respected and the following review appeared in the Manchester Guardian on January 5 1937.

Turning to an earlier climbing generation, UKClimbing features a story about Dave Birkett making a winter ascent of Botterill's Slab, a route high on Scafell, in the Lake District. When Fred Botterill put up the climb in 1903 it was one of the first to be graded Very Severe, a grade it still maintains today. Botterill's Slab, a film by Alison Stockwell, that re-creates the original climb can be seen here.

Sadly the Manchester Guardian didn't feature this first ascent but the period did see an incredible amount of reporting of the growing sport of rock climbing, a number of which are featured in On the Roof of the World.

The Fall

I'm glad to see that Simon Mawer's The Fall has been suggested for Tony Astill's list of mountaineering books by British writers, over on ClimbUK. The winner of the 2003 Boardman Tasker prize, it’s a tale of two life-long friends, linked by their shared love of climbing, as well as various women in their lives.

The success of The Fall is that it’s a mountaineering novel that can be enjoyed by anyone - something not all books of the genre seem to manage. Mawer combines gripping mountain top drama and tangled relationships, whilst weaving social, as well as climbing, history into the plot. Events that inspired one aspect of the novel can be read here. The Glass Room, Mawer’s most recent novel made it to the Man Booker 2009 shortlist.

One omission from Astill’s list is Mount Everest: The Reconnaissance 1935, his own book about one of Eric Shipton’s often forgotten, but actually quite successful, expeditions to the Himalaya.