You know what Jams My Cams? Foreshadowing. Like re-reading a well written book with a twist, going back over events and statements made in the past can take on new shades of meaning after you know the ending.
Climbing is an extreme sport, and with that comes danger in a lot of forms. As the years go on, accidents happen that leave us without our friends and inspirations. Generally, watching or reading something featuring a climber I know to have passed isn’t too heavy. Sure, I feel sad to know they’ve gone, but usually its just an appreciation that their spark was captured in media such that I can still remember it. Its not always without pain though. Sometimes a phrase or a concept will leap out, plucking a nerve that you didn’t know was exposed.
I always liked footage of Micah Dash and Jonny Copp. They both lived the sport, worked hard, and suffered with a smile. Watching the First Ascent Series segment ‘Point of No Return‘ is tear jerking on its own, seeing how crushed everyone is at the deaths of Micah, Jonny, and Wade Johnson. Months, maybe years, later, as part of a movie night, the film of choice was ‘The Sharp End‘. One segment is on alpinism, with none other than Micah and Jonny. I had forgotten about that segment, and seeing Jonny visit shrines to fallen climbers, and talking both candidly and prophetically about the fatal risks in alpinism did a number on me. That film will never be the same knowing what I know now.
‘Patagonia Promise‘ outlines the despondency Sean “Stanley” Leary fell into at the passing of his girlfriend. He was in a dark place, away from friends, away from climbing. Taking up skydiving and BASE jumping gave him a way to reaffirm his will to live, much to the initial worry of his friends. As he saw it, you throw yourself into the void, and then you have to make the conscious decision, the active effort, to throw your pilot chute and therefore save your own life. Steph Davis notes Sean as someone who helped her when her own husband passed away in a wingsuiting accident, having known the pain of lost someone he loved and come out the other side. Sadly, Sean was himself later killed in a wingsuiting accident.
Referencing the same box-set a third time, ‘Fly or Die’ may be the worst offender. Dean Potter had dreams of flying, and BASE jumping wingsuit flying gave him that opportunity. As one of the free-soloists pushing standards at the time, he was also keenly aware that to solo at his true physical limit would mean falling would be a possibility. With the addition of a BASE rig, he could ‘freeBASE’, soloing hard terrain with a parachute as a means of saving himself should he fall. Literally transforming the worst thing ever, dying, into what he felt was the best thing ever, flying. He too was killed in a wingsuit accident some years later.
I could go on and on. Uli Steck talking about risk as he made speed solo ascents. John Bachar talking about free-soloing.
Any time someone points a camera in a climber’s face, for it to appeal to the mass market, they are going to have to talk about the risks and dangers. Danger sells. Now with every tragic accident, there’s likely to be a piece of proceeding footage the heart-less among us can point to, shouting about how they knew they risks, were irresponsible, and got themselves killed. Others might think it comforting in some way that those that push the edge of the envelope think about the consequences enough to speak eloquently on them, to understand them and take on that risk “knowing” what might happen.
I think I am somewhere in the middle. Many of us have lost friends to their passions, climbing or otherwise. “They died doing what they loved” is a romantic notion, but one that glosses over the permanence of the death part. Sit down and ask yourself how much you are willing to lose to accomplish an objective, and be honest with yourself. Do honest algebra, and take calculated risks. Be honest with others when they ask you about the dangers of our sport – don’t over-inflate it or underplay it, both are a disservice. And most importantly, stay safe out there.
Justin Meserve