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:

Because It's There

Because It's There was a one-evening exploration of what mountains represent to humanity, held at the Royal Geographical Society. A tall order, but over three hours various speakers touched on everything from why people climb, fear, women and mountaineering, the commercialisation of Everest expeditions to is true adventure still possible?

The first part of the programme consisted of four short talks. Journalist Ed Douglas began by looking at the relationship between the media and mountaineers. This has changed since the days of Arthur Hinks, then secretary of the Mount Everest Committee, who attempted to stifle all publicity relating to the Everest attempts of the 1920s, and who found that ‘All these questions of dealing with the newspapers are personally very distasteful to me'. On the 1953 British Everest expedition, Jan Morris (then James) used a pre-arranged code to ensure the Times got their Hillary/Tenzing exclusive.

Now climbers are blogging and writing on the mountain, often in real-time. One consequence of this is that media hails those that can write as the best climbers, while the true stars and innovators often go unnoticed.

Louise Turner talked about her long mountaineering career and how the real adventure often begins when the unexpected happens. However, she was very clear that she enjoyed living, not dying, and thus didn't take unnecessary risks.

Peter Baily then presented a meditation on what you can learn about yourself when you're in the mountains - the relationship between the the body, mind and emotions. He's as interested in the spiritual benefits of interacting with the landscape, as the physical exertion of getting to the summit. He illustrated this with a line from Walter Bonatti's The Mountains of My Life where the Italian climber states "it was solo climbing, above all, that let me enter into the spirit of the mountains and so come to recognize my own true nature". Finally, photographer Alexandre Buisse explained how the best photographs often come about in situations when you don't really want to be hanging around adjusting camera equipment.

The author and mountaineer Stephen Venables made the keynote speech. This was an inspiring romp through many of his expeditions, but he concluded that adventure doesn't always have to take place in the most inaccessible places.

The second part of the evening was the debate, Has Everest killed the true spirit of adventure? With a strong panel, it looked like being an exciting session. All agreed that climbing on the mountain had opened up new vistas, both in their climbing and non climbing lives. Kenton Cool, who has been to the Everest summit eight times, warned that you should never take it for granted. Meanwhile, Doug Scott talked about the importance of his 'apprenticeship' on the mountains of Scotland the Alps, before venturing into the higher reaches of the Himalaya. He also pointed out that there were more unclimbed than climbed mountains in Nepal - adventure for anyone who seeks it.

All of the panellists, with their anecdotes, tales and great experiences, made for exciting listening. However, the debate only occasionally came close to answering the main question. In many ways a well moderated online discussion might have revealed more. Nevertheless, it was a stimulating evening and pictures of the event can be seen here.

Finally, mention must be made of the complimentary King's Ginger that was available during the break. The drink of 'sporting gentlemen and high-spirited ladies', no doubt it was also taken on expeditions. Despite being often thought of as a winter drink, I've noticed that people have started sipping it in the warmer months (at least in South London they have). No mention in Double Measures, but this piece from the Observer's celebrated wine writer (December 17 1967) explains all: