Behind the histories of exploration lie less-visible tales of rumored summits that prove to be nonexistent, and of physical mountains whose shapes and heights transform according to different legends.
On October 5, 1999, while Dave Bridges and Alex Lowe were investigating a potential ski descent on the southwest face of Shishapangma, an avalanche buried them. This spring, their remains were found on the mountain.
We asked Lise Billon and Jerome Sullivan, two of the four authors of “A Quartet for Silent Lands” in Alpinist 53 (the other two authors are Diego Simari and Antoine Moineville) to share additional photos from their story for us to post online.
At seventy-three, Cascades climber Fay Pullen bushwhacks through dense thickets and climbs isolated peaks–generally alone. Cindy Beavon pays a visit to one of Washington’s most prolific soloists.
![David Bridges (left), Conrad Anker (middle) and Alex Lowe sorting gear on a rooftop in Kathmandu before the 1999 Shishapangma trip. [Photo] Andrew McLean](https://alpinist.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/shish1-930x620.jpg)
Andrew McLean shares his reflections on the 1999 expedition, the avalanche that killed Alex Lowe and David Bridges and the void left by their passing.
Eric Klimt, a climber, teacher and videographer from Baltimore, Maryland, passed away in a climbing accident in Zion National Park on March 9. His family remembers him as an adventurer who projected routes around the globe. To remember Eric and his adventures, the Klimt family will hold two services.
In 1904 the artist Frederick Samuel Dellenbaugh wrote of the landscape that became Zion National Park: “Never before has such a naked mountain of rock entered into our minds!… There is almost nothing to compare to it. Niagara has the beauty of energy; the Grand Canyon, of immensity; the Yellowstone, of singularity; the Yosemite, of altitude; the ocean, of power; this great temple, of eternity.”
During the mid-1980s, Steve Hong was finishing his medical studies at the University of Utah, but he wasn’t yet done with his youthful antics. On weekends, he and his partners explored Indian Creek’s arid landscape of silent towers, crimson walls and grazing cattle. There, they found fissures that would eventually rank as iconic desert climbs. One was a 160-foot crack leading skyward up a smooth panel of maroon and orange varnish
ONLY A FEW CLIMBERS have seen Mt. Chobutse, the 6686-meter mountain above my village in the Rolwaling Valley of Nepal. In Tibetan scripture, the original name of the peak is Khang Tagri. Although the north and south ridges rise in gradual arcs, the west face looks as sharp as an upturned axe.
JANUARY: SHADOWS AND SILENCE fill the canyon of Zion National Park. Within the Emerald Pools amphitheater, icicles clatter to earth. I pull out my binoculars. A gently overhanging prow on Mt. Majestic catches wan winter sun. Bracketed by deep clefts, the sleek, southeast-facing buttress rises through dark-red sandstone and mahogany iron stains.
COFFEE LIFTS ON THE AIR. A dog marks time (and place) in the distance, its tail a silent metronome. The cold air, gently sinking, pulls a breeze across my face. I don’t like it. I want to crawl deeper in my bag. From the floor of the living room in John “Deucey” Midddendorf’s Hurricane home, I can just see the top of Mt. Kinesava, I think, starting to light up in the eastern sun.
This year will mark the 50th anniversary of the 1966 American Antarctic Mountaineering Expedition. This is John Evans’s story of the first ascent of Mt. Tyree–one of six unclimbed peaks the AAME team summited.
