High Crimes, Chapter 11
The following story–an excerpt from the recently released nonfiction novel High Crimes–reveals the dark underbelly of high-altitude mountaineering: the loss of valuables, the loss of life.
The following story–an excerpt from the recently released nonfiction novel High Crimes–reveals the dark underbelly of high-altitude mountaineering: the loss of valuables, the loss of life.
Remembering Alpinist’s most acclaimed artist–Paul Dedi–the rare personality whose enthusiastic, witty, scrappy outlook instituted him as an offbeat bastion of the climbing and illustrating communities.
“So far we had little luck finding any climbing in Chile. But in a pension in Pucon there was a small photo on the wall showing a distant view of some interesting-looking cliffs, on a mountaintop above some woods. Our interest was roused immediately when, by chance, a local raft guide commented that no one had climbed on these walls, some of which rose 2,500 feet above the canopy.”
“We live in Lawrence, Kansas, my friend, a small college town lost in a sea of plains. If by local crag you mean a two-hour drive to some crumbling, dripping limestone in Missouri, then sure, that’s our local crag.”
Forty Kiwi mountaineers raised their axes as one to form the New Zealand Alpine Club’s honor guard when Sir Edmund Hillary’s coffin emerged…
Simon Richardson shares his inspiration: Giusto Gervasutti. “As a teenager, consumed by a newfound passion for mountaineering, I had a voracious appetite for climbing books. I read my way through the school library and then the local town library, seeking out more adventures and experiences on the written page, so that I could gauge my own faltering beginnings in the sport.”
Kelly Cordes and Masatoshi Kuriaki share their inspiration. “High Alaska, the classic from Jonathan Waterman, started it all for me. But different writings have influenced me in different ways at different times. For me, influence has come from photos, words and people.”
Four nights. Twenty-two films. Eight premieres. One Grand Prize winner. $7,000+ raised for Surf Aid International. One bag of trash.
There are over a hundred lines in the Ouray Ice Park, but–if you’re actually looking to climb–any veteran’s recommendation is: “Wake up at 6 a.m., claim a line, and lap it all day. Best of luck.” Yet competition morning, January 12th, was different, if only for a few minutes.
“It may sound strange, but it was as though a period of my life was ending this spring. At first I was grieving for the past and very lost, but eventually I had to learn how to let go, and I entered a new life.”