Belaying

[Recent investigations, theoretical and practical, have stimulated renewed and widespread interest in methods of belaying. The two articles which follow, by Professor Whitney, of Harvard University, and Fred Beckey, of Seattle, will be welcomed, we believe, as contributory to general discussion. It should be understood that the articles, written quite independently, were not designed for juxtaposition in any sort of formal symposium, and that the opinions expressed are entirely the author s own.—Ed.]

PRACTICAL BELAYING

Hassler Whitney

THE average layman, on meeting a mountaineer, exclaims, “Oh, you do rope climbing!” His idea of what is done with the rope is usually rather strange. Its main purpose is of course to increase the security of the party. The average climber, on invading the high peaks, handles the rope with some confidence, putting into practice what he has learned on the cliffs. Unfortunately, the mountain does not care where or how the climber learned his technique; it pays attention only to the realities of the situation. The presence of the rope in fact often adds but little to the safety, and may even be a source of real danger. The purpose of this article is to help the climber bridge the tremendous gap between a superficial knowledge of technique and the ability to use the rope as a true source of safety.

It is clear that real proficiency can come only through actual practice. This should go hand in hand with study, under an experienced mountaineer if possible. And one should refer back constantly to that admirable text by Geoffrey Winthrop Young, Mountain Craft. We cannot go deeply into theory here. Rather, we point out some of the differences between cliff climbing and high mountaineering, and hope to help convince the novice that he is not yet a true mountaineer. We start with some discussion of how the rope can in fact contribute to safety in high climbing. This will help to show how belaying may best be studied in cliff climbing. A final section would have been omitted, except for the alarming accident rate caused by the present tendency in this country to replace hard- won knowledge by quickly-read theory.

Belaying in High Climbing

Let us consider some typical situations. Mythical Mount Magnificent has a normal route, rather long and laborious, with slabs, gullies, and bits of faces and ribs, but is not considered really difficult. There is also a somewhat shorter ridge, with beautiful climbing on firm rock, some sections being quite hard. On July 6th an experienced climber, A, takes B and C up the ridge. A knows that B and C are sure-footed and of stable character. On the harder parts, A belays B, and then supervises B’s belaying of C; he sometimes has B and C change places. Sometimes B and C even lead sections. A discusses basic principles during the climb; it is largely a training course for B and C. Towards the top, there are signs of an approaching storm. A considers, however, that he can get his party over and down the normal route in good time.

Before they have gone far down, the clouds close in, and the wind comes up. The rope has been considerably shortened. B and C are descending together. A has B’s rope firm even while descending; he is commonly right behind B, and is sometimes holding C’s rope at the same time. On some harder bits, A pauses a moment, seeing that B and C are on easy spots, then moves quickly down, still holding the rope. While descending a short chimney this way, B slips on a loose stone. A stops right where he is, holding the rope fairly taut, while B picks himself up. Only on the slabs does A send B and C down one at a time. B’s and C’s attention is kept strictly on the climbing, and they feel that A has full control of the situation. They arrive at the bottom wet and tired, but with a glorious day behind them. A’s procedure may seem a bit scary to some; but it is quite routine to Alpine guides.

On July 10th D and E undertake the same trip. They have climbed some of the hardest spots on the cliffs back home, and are fresh from the ascent of Pointed Peak by the East Face. They are loaded with pitons and confidence. The first part of the ridge is climbed very fast. On the difficult section, E puts the rope over a convenient rock while D climbs; then D does the same for E. E gets into a bad position, and calls out, “Have you got me?” “Wait a second,” D answers. Then E gets up, not noticing that D would not have actually held him in any case. On the final wall, a piton is driven in about halfway up. Getting over the top is the hard part. Of course if D fell here, he would land on the ledge below (with what consequences?), piton or no piton.

They reach the top about the same time of day as the other party. With another storm rapidly approaching, they just have time to start down the normal route, and make out the general direction of descent before being engulfed in mist. Soon they are debating whether to go right or left; it is terribly difficult to pick out a route when you can see only a few yards. They keep the rope on, but, being hurried, belay in a perfunctory manner. Suddenly a cliff is reached. There seems no easy way out on either side. But that is surely a ledge just below. A crack for a piton is found, and D rappels down. The ledge turns out to be merely a discoloration in the rock. D wonders whether he can pull himself up the rope again, then notices that there is an actual ledge a bit farther below. Another rappel brings them to another ledge. The wet rope seems to be jammed; they cannot get it down, till, with an extra hard pull, down it comes, piton and all. Now they are really worried, feeling that they could not possibly climb up again, especially with the fresh snow and wind. Fortunately, the ledge takes them around to easier ground. They have now no idea on what part of the mountain they are. With fear of approaching dark, they hurry still more. D glissades carefully down a little snow gully. He gets back on the rocks, while E glissades. Going a bit farther, E hits an icy stretch, hidden by the fresh snow. The rope catches over a rock, and the fall is stopped. Somehow, the lower slopes are reached at last.

Two days later, rested and warmed by the sun, they start up Terrible Tooth, the dangers of bad weather in mind. But the mountain has other dangers, too. The tragic consequences are well known to readers of True Mountain Tales.

A’s party described above may be considered entirely secure. The rope was the immediate factor in insuring that a slip on the part of B or C would not have bad consequences. Most important, A knew how to manage the party from beginning to end. On the other trip, the presence of the rope was of little physical consequence (except for the rappels). But its psychological consequence, especially during the descent, was marked. It tied the two young men together, giving them courage to continue unfalteringly. On the other hand, it gave them a false sense of safety; in many places, a slip would have meant certain death to both. In such a situation, the individual’s strength and stability of character become highly important. A person can quickly lose his morale; in a group of novices, this makes the descent terribly risky. Only the true mountaineer knows how to guide such a person safely down.

Under what conditions can one expect to belay successfully in high climbing? Let me quote from Young: “And since good men can hold almost anywhere, even while moving … ”1 This is a basic fact, which the novice usually fails completely to understand. He returns from a climb, and says, “There were 500 feet of slabs, with only two belay stances.” The expert belayed for his party continually on these same slabs. In a party with a fully responsible leader, the rope will ensure safety throughout. Only under most exceptional conditions must the leader put his full powers into play to bring his group down without accident. Some remarks on especially difficult climbing are made in Section III below. We have not mentioned the special problems brought up by belaying on snow or ice; this requires more advanced technique yet.

Belaying on Cliffs

Belaying here has two purposes: the immediate safety of the party, and training. The first purpose is sufficiently served by putting the rope around a convenient tree; but this is not usually possible on high peaks. The disadvantages of using a fixed rock for belay are discussed in Young’s book. In practically all normal Alpine climbing, the body belay is the best. In particular, it is secure, and rapid, and the belayer keeps in constant touch with the man below. (As to belaying the leader, see below.) This is true even of cliff climbing. Hence the body belay should be studied thoroughly.

The beginner in belaying must of course be supervised. There are too many ways in which accidents can occur: he may be in a position in which he can not really hold (and no adequate test has been given); he may not know how to bring up the rope properly, or may simply fail to do so; he may let the rope get tangled or jammed in a crack, or let it pull off loose stones; he may shift to a bad position before the climber is up. If he is tied in, be sure this rope is secure, yet without pulling on the belayer so as to help the belay (unless in a really difficult position). Remember that the climber below may act wrongly: for example, he may leap for a hold or pull on the rope above him for “extra security,” thus causing a dangerous slack in the rope.

On each belay position, if the belayer is entirely sure of himself, he may call out “On belay,” to be answered by “Climbing.” Otherwise, “Ready for testing” is answered by “Testing.” The man below gradually puts his whole weight on the rope, then gives some extra pulls, unless called on to stop. Then “O.K.” is followed by “Climbing.” Constant testing is the main source of security in belaying.

The normal method of belaying, the best under the vast majority of circumstances, is to stand with one foot right on the edge of the ledge, the rope coming up right beside the foot and along the leg, held firm and straight. The body is inclined somewhat inwards, with the other foot behind, for good balance. The rope is held by the other hand, at waist height; this hand must never let go of the rope. It will be used also to throw the incoming rope into neat coils (not down the cliff). The hand by the firm leg will be continually feeling the rope. With experience, one can tell whether it goes straight to the climber, and is not caught on a rock. Any change in direction of pull of the rope due to movements of the climber must be taken into account. It is good for the climber to test the belay (with warning and answer) occasionally during a climb.

Rather than climb to the top of the cliff and then belay, the climber should belay from several places on the way up. This will teach him how to belay in a variety of rock structures. With constant practice, including testing, he will learn how to hold in the varied situations he will encounter in high climbing. The higher art of rhythm in belaying, climbing up and down, is hard to learn on cliffs.

Belaying the Leader

I wish to make several points here which, at first sight, may seem rather strange. I believe the lack of understanding of this subject is having serious consequences to young American climbers.

In all normal climbing on rock by safe parties, the leader is not belayed.

There is a growing tendency in this country, both on cliffs and on high peaks, to belay the leader. Usually the parties are not gaining the safety they think they are by this maneuver. In fact, they are often increasing the danger.

The young climber, in studying modern techniques and bringing them into play, is commonly losing sight of more basic mountaineering principles.

To discuss these points, we first consider the general problem of safety. Let us classify climbing parties roughly into groups:

(a) high security, (b) medium security, (c) little security. Those in group (c) are clearly reckless; on reading of a mountaineering accident in the papers, one usually places the party mentally in this group. Unfortunately, the party usually belongs in fact to group (b); the trouble is that many climbers think that they are in (a) and that those having accidents are in (c), not realizing the existence and large extent of (b). If the leader of a party is thoroughly experienced in the type of climb he is on, and has full responsibility with respect to the state of the mountain and the composition of the party, then the party is presumably in group (a). This holds, in particular, for practically all guided parties. The less experienced climber is commonly unaware of the great variety of problems the mountain may put to him—hence his mistake in thinking that his party is in group (a).

To come to point (1), we note first that a guide taking a party up a standard route (even a highly difficult one) does not ask to be belayed. If the whole party is strong, there can be some particular places, like a short traverse, where the leader may call for a belay; he knows that a slip can have no really serious consequences. If a first-rate party attacks a most difficult route, the leader may be belayed. The climbers know that a fall may be serious, and that they are edging from (a) towards (b). In actual fact, a fall in such a party is rare. We do not call such climbs “normal.” Attempts by novices to emulate these parties are foolhardy.

To explain the reason for (1), we give two more points:

The purpose of a belay for the leader is generally not to insure safety, which it can seldom do, but merely to reduce the seriousness of an accident.

A leader in group (a), knowing this, is so secure in his climbing that he has no need of a belay.

Let me quote again from Young: “A leader, or a last man down, does not fall. It is the first condition of his hegemony that he must not. His fall from any height must mean injury to himself, and may involve the whole party.… To fall, get injured and survive in the Alps is more actually dangerous to the rest of the party than to get killed.”2 If a leader falls, no amount of theory can insure him against breaking a leg or skull, if he is any distance above his belay.

In normal climbing by a group in (a), the leader is not belayed, first, because he does not need it, and, second, because it is a waste of valuable time. The usual belaying of the leader in an inexperienced party is in fact rather ineffectual, and may even give the leader a false sense of security. This is tragically shown by the four serious accidents described in recent American Alpine Club Safety Committee Reports in which the leader was relying on pitons.

The danger in belaying an inexperienced leader may be shown by the following example. The leader starts up a difficult stretch, and soon drives in a piton. Higher, it being even harder than he expected, he drives in another. This is tiring work. Still higher, a feeling of tension grows in him about his position. Two feet above there seems to be security, with a fine climb accomplished, if he can make it. Below, there is the shame of failure—that is, if he can get down. Having done very little climbing down on difficult rock, and being worn out, he does not dare descend. At the crucial moment, he feels that the modern technique of pitons for security now comes into play. A desperate effort is made, and the accident occurs. Without pitons, the climber would not have worked himself into this position.

One may ask: Suppose the leader does not feel perfectly secure? Should he then not be belayed ? Asking this presupposes that the party is beyond safe limits, perhaps getting into group (c). It is beyond the scope of this article to discuss corrective method.

There is no shortcut to mountaineering experience. The mountaineer, meeting the young climber with hardware dangling from his belt, knows pretty well what to expect from him. Some pitons in the sack for emergencies such as rappels is a different story. When the climber has graduated into the top class and, in particular, can give up a climb without loss of pride, he may then if he chooses study intensively the problem of belaying the leader.3

BELAYING ON SNOW AND ICE

Fred Beckey

IN that bible of the climber, Mountain Craft, Geoffrey Winthrop

Young wrote: “Mountaineering, like other arts, has suffered much, for all its youth, from the limitations imposed by hasty tradition and by doctrine prematurely crystallized.”1 The craft, he suggested, must be enlarged and improved by experiment. He did not regard the principles which he set forth as being above improvement; he expressed, rather, the hope that they might provide the basis for more general discussion. Young’s exposition of belaying is the finest that has been published; but recent experiments have indicated that his suggestions, both for rock and for snow, can be improved. In reviewing the fifth edition of Mountain Craft, R. M. Leonard points out that “Young’s constant reference to climbing unroped on steep snow and ice shows a realization of the basic weaknesses of belays on snow and ice.”2

Since snow and ice permanently cover the higher peaks, the ability to climb on them safely is essential in a “compleat” mountaineer. It would appear that the reluctantly proffered suggestion that the leader may have to be sacrificed, in the event of a serious fall from a great height, applies to climbing on snow as well as on rock. But the present-day climber is not easily reconciled to this gloomy notion, or to the suggestion that there is no reasonably certain protection for a roped party on steep snow or ice. The best preventive principle, it is true, is that the leader should not fall; and the discovery of new safeguards should not tempt him to lessen his vigilance. Present-day climbers, however, should not on that account neglect the new techniques.

Arresting a fall is fundamentally a problem of absorbing energy. A belay must absorb the kinetic energy of a falling man in such a way that no severe load will be imposed on the man, his belayer, a piton or an ice-axe. In a “static” belay, the fixed rope alone absorbs the energy. Theory and experiment have shown conclusively that a static belay is inadequate to arrest a leader’s fall. The “resilient” belay seeks to lessen the shock: the rope having been snubbed around the belayer’s body, both rope and body “give” somewhat under the load. Although many climbers have recognized the importance of resiliency, “none of them”—as Leonard and Wexler wrote in 1946—“has clearly explained how to obtain it.” The principle of the “dynamic” belay was therefore developed by these two climbers in the Sierra Club Bulletin.3 Wexler has explained it thus: “The rope is permitted to slide, under control, over the support; and the friction generated between rope and support is the dominant factor in absorbing the energy of a fall.”4

Repercussions of these advances appear to have been felt chiefly among rock-climbers. What about belaying on snow and ice ? Some ten years ago, my brother and I found ourselves dissatisfied with the methods advocated by the various books on mountaineering technique. Having made a close comparison of the effects of numerous practice falls held by different methods, we began to suspect that a good many ideas had been expounded without adequate testing. One published sketch, for example, showed a leader secured by means of ice pitons and a shoulder belay. Further, we knew that mountaineering annals are full of accounts of falls in which the leader pulled the second man from his stance when an axe anchorage failed. Such was the cause of the 2000-foot fall of Toni Schmid and Ernst Krebs on the Grosse Wiesbachhorn in 1932.5 The dangers of a static belay are as great on snow or ice as on rock.

We have now a technique to propose. We make no claim to be the discoverers, but we believe it to be sufficiently novel to merit discussion. It is proposed now only after repeated tests by climbing associates, including Schoening, Hieb, Widrig, Sharpe and Craig.

Experiments have shown that, if a severe fall occurs on steep snow, only a dynamic belay, whereby the rope is allowed to slide over the belay point (ice-axe, or ice-axe arrest belay), permits the kinetic energy to be absorbed so that the check is made gradually over the residual rope distance.

If the axe can be driven into the snow, its use will at least somewhat improve a belayer’s situation. To hold most firmly, it should be driven almost perpendicular to a horizontal plane, not at right angles to the slope. Some advocate merely holding the rope in hand, after it has been passed behind the axe and over one knee, and pressing upon the axe with the free hand, or a shoulder or knee. This method has some merit: “slack” can be given easily, and a dynamic belay effected to mitigate the force of the fall. But there are drawbacks. A hand belay affords little control: the be- layer may be unable to hold a serious fall. Also, the position of the belayer unless he is anchored to the axe, and the axe is driven deep—is none too secure. The advantage of being able to give sudden slack is hardly compensatory.

By taking one or more turns of the rope about the axe, one can gain full control of the rope; but a severe fall will tend to create a static belay, resulting in dangers already discussed, and making it possible for sudden strain to snap off the axe. This type of belay is quite permissible, however, and even advantageous, when a party is crossing gentle terrain made dangerous by hidden—or open— crevasses not in line with the direction of travel. Under such conditions, a fall will be short, and absorbed by the rope’s cutting into the lip of the crevasse. The belayer can rapidly put a clove hitch and then a final anchor to the rope about the axe, and be free to assist in immediate extrication. Experience and discretion are needed; the conditions under which this belay may be useful must be understood. If a climber is crossing a snow bridge, or travelling in line with the crevasses, or ascending a steep slope that presents the double danger of slip and treacherous crevasse, he may have a longer fall. For these conditions, the proposed new dynamic belay is recommended.

Our experiments showed that the belay which came nearest to perfection was one combining the advantages of the techniques aforementioned, and interposing the body between the rope and the axe, as in a belay on rock. The method is quite simple. Let us assume that the leader would theoretically fall left of the belayer, who should always make his stance off the potential fall line. The running portion of the rope is passed above the vertical ice-axe, and then behind the hips of the belayer (who is facing obliquely to the left) to his outstretched left hand, as in a rock piton belay. The inside (right) knee of the belayer presses against the axe, and his inside shoulder and arm press down on the axe. The angle and density of the snow determine just how this will work out: the rope may be passed above the buttocks or below, and it may be the inside shoulder, armpit or chest which is pressing upon the axe. The body is not kept erect, but planted securely in a tripod position, with the feet braced and the bent inside knee pressing hard against the axe. The inside hand grasps the axe head (pick pointing in), with the thumb under the adze and fingers over the base of the pick. This technique can be practised even when the surface is so hard that the axe can be driven in only a few inches. It is much superior to any other ice-axe belay.

If a fall occurs, the controlling grip of the gloved key hand is sufficient to bring the strain slowly to an end. Slack must be given until the peak of the shock has been passed. It must be remembered, by the way, that a belayer watching a slip may develop a dangerous tendency to “freeze” the rope. He would thus lose the value of this belay. The technique has to be practised; but one can learn, readily enough, to keep the peak load below the lowest of the breaking points of any of the links—body, rope, ice-axe. Full control of the rope can, indeed, be had with ease. Moreover, two former dangers, that the belayer may be pulled off his stance and that the axe may be torn out, are set against each other: the greater the pull of the rope behind the axe, the greater the upward pull on the belayer, who resolves this force upon the axe and welds the belay into the soundest, solidest unit possible.

It may be well to remind the reader at this point that Wexler has shown why a leader should terminate his leads on rock so as to give the belayer a length of rope equal to one-third of the distance through which a fall would be possible.6 Otherwise, a dynamic belay will not be effective. On snow or ice, the leader could go farther, depending upon the gradient and the frictional qualities of the slope. Although study of this point is needed, it may be estimated that at the end of a lead a length of rope equal to one-sixth of the distance of a fall should be available to the belayer.

The mountaineer will see how the leader can adapt this belay to safeguard the second man’s ascent—using his inside armpit or chest to pin the axe, since he needs both hands to take up rope. I have found it expedient, when there are three on the rope, and the axe can be anchored fairly securely, for the third man to use the rope to the middle man (who is belaying the leader) as a fixed line, anchored to an ice-axe loop on the rope immediately behind the second man. The party’s speed of ascent or descent can thus be made to approximate that of a two-man team. To an able climber, the fixed rope gives security; the technique can be considered safe on any but especially steep or crevassed terrain. Similarly, if the leader has a staunch belay, numbers two and three can climb simultaneously.

Sometimes unusual features of the surface make it possible to arrange a standing or sitting hip belay, permitting application of the principle of the dynamic belay, without recourse to the axe, except perhaps as an auxiliary anchor. Thus, a snow hummock, ice pinnacle, sharp arête or other protrusion may give the leader an excellent belay of the type normally used in rock climbing. Sometimes, also, a groove or circular trench may be cut in the snow or ice, and used as an anchor for a belay: the rope is passed through the groove on a lead, or snapped to a karabiner on a sling running through the groove.

When the slope is flat and the snow is so porous as to allow the insertion of the axe to the hilt, another technique that uses the tactics of dynamic belaying is recommended. The belayer passes the rope behind the axe, being careful to keep the pick in so that the rope can not escape, and presses on the axe head with the inside foot. He passes the standing end of the rope above and behind the hips, and faces the axe at a right angle to the line of fall, giving a standing hip belay.

In his discussion of belays on ice, Young furnishes excellent advice. “On hard grainy ice,” he points out, “it is useless to attempt to belay the rope with the axe.”7 He continues: “On soft grainy ice it is sometimes possible to make a belay by striking in the pick at a sharp downward inclination above us, and looping the rope round the pick and close to the ice”—but he warns of the insecurity of this belay. It would be better to combine a body belay and a dynamic belay, with the rope running above the pick. On such ground, however, it would be better still to chop two good foot stances and give a standing hip belay, especially if crampons were being worn.

think that only the use of ice pitons—though purists may despise them and trust to good fortune—can make passages on steep, hard ice safe. Full discussion of their use is beyond the scope of this paper, but a brief warning may perhaps be offered: no climber should try them on steep ice unless he is well versed in their use and limitations, and has practised with them on safe terrain. Certain of the tubular and barbed pitons are excellent for use in belaying; but one must remember that any ice piton may loosen up in a short time, despite regelation, unless the temperature is below the freezing point and the piton is concealed from strong sunlight. Ice pitons are, of course, excellent mediums for application of the dynamic belay. Tactics resemble those for rock pitons.

If the leader falls while a party is climbing in combination on snow, there is little time for the belayer to assume an adequate stance, and attempts to pull in slack rope may end disastrously. For a party travelling together on long, doubtful slopes of soft snow, Young’s advice would seem still to be the best: pass the rope above the shaft, letting it rest on the snow. Unless there is imminent danger from crevasses, climbers moving in combination on steep terrain should carry some loose coils of rope in hand, for they can thus have enough rope to effect a running belay if the leader falls. But on hard snow it is important to keep the rope fairly taut and rely on self-arrest, by means of the ice-axe, to stop the fall of any member of the team. In the event of a fall by the leader, this technique is resilient” in that the second man is pulled downward for some distance before the leader is brought to a decelerating halt.

Some analyses of belaying on snow and ice fail to mention the limitations of the axe and anchor loop for a party travelling in combination.8 Keen discernment is needed. If this is lacking, I would recommend not using the axe loop. At any rate, it can be used justifiably only when the snow is soft enough to permit quick, firm axe anchorage and there is danger from crevasses, yet no likelihood that the leader will suffer a long, uncontrolled fall because of objective difficulties. The loop must be dropped to the snow surface with instinctive quickness, if someone falls into a crevasse. Since the fall will be short, and the lip of the crevasse will have a cushioning effect, the static belay is acceptable. It should be observed that, since the axe loop should be on the rope immediately ahead of the climber, a leader would never use one. As Young suggests, the leader must have his axe free. If a slip occurs while climbers are moving in combination, every man—unless a running belay around the axe is used to halt the leader’s fall—should keep both hands on the axe. This can not be emphasized too strongly.

II

The desire to improve standard rope technique has led recently to the formulation of the “sliding middleman technique.”9 Instead of tying into the main climbing rope, the middle member of a trio snaps onto it by means of a karabiner spliced into the end of a short connecting rope. He ties into the connecting rope (bowline-on-a- coil) and, at the point where it reaches the snow when he stands erect, fixes a butterfly knot with a small ice-axe loop. The middle man acts as a fixed anchor or belaying point for the third man. When the party is climbing in combination, the third man carries some slack and, in case of a fall by the leader, gives a dynamic belay through the aforementioned karabiner.

One can imagine an advantage in the use of this technique, admirable in theory, to stop a leader’s fall on steep, uncrevassed snow slopes, for the division of duties facilitates specialization, and the third man could take up a little slack while the leader was falling. The principal disadvantage is that the stability of the middle man (or anchor) would be uncertain in the event of a hard fall, as the force would tend to pull him off the slope rather than up. Less vital but equally obvious defects are that the technique would be impracticable if there were any danger of falling into a crevasse, and that the leader could not hold a slip by the middle man until he had slid half the rope-length and struck the third man—unless knots were tied all along the rope behind the middle man, in which case the whole point of the technique would be nullified.

It is alleged that standard rope technique has shortcomings: anchor security or rope control is sacrificed when one man must attend to both simultaneously; the third man can give only moral support; anchoring time is short when the rope is taut; restriction of leads makes the technique awkward, slow and inflexible. Proponents of the “sliding middleman technique” claim that it yields greater climbing speed, efficient use of two men to control a fall, flexibility in the choice of anchors, smoothness of braking due to the sliding of the karabiner, and more time to cope with unexpected falls.

Let us examine these allegations and claims, recalling as we do so that the “sliding middleman technique” has been described as “still in an experimental stage.” Giving an account of it in The Mountaineer for 1950, Cameron Beckwith writes, “Perhaps it holds the answer to many of our snow-climbing problems but we doubt that it will ever be a magic cure-all for them all.”10

Owing to the ease of control through balancing of forces in the belay previously discussed, standard technique need not be considered the weaker just because one man must attend simultaneously both to anchor security and to rope control. Indeed, one man in complete control can tell more accurately how much slack or how much pressure will be required to stop a fall than two men working independently, neither of them fully aware of the strains on the other.

Standard technique allows the third man to give more than moral support. In a dangerous spot he may move up and give an auxiliary anchor to the second man; if he is below, he has ample time to prepare an arrest. It is true that the time for anchoring is short if the climber who slips is behind; but a quick axe arrest with little impact is much to be preferred to a time-lag and a greater jerk, due to the middle man’s sliding free half the rope- length or the last man’s sliding some 15 feet.

For a practised party, standard technique need not mean slow and awkward movement. The third man can often use the rope as a fixed line while the leader is being belayed, thus speeding the ascent; or an end man may belay while the other two move simultaneously. It has been suggested that a party using the “sliding middleman technique” may increase its upward speed by having the middle man anchor through the axe loop while both end men move together. But there is no mention of the danger of a fall by the last man: the force would come entirely on the leader, who might be in a precarious position at the time.

The criticism that standard technique is inflexible seems hastily conceived, for it can be the more flexible of the two. If difficulties are expected, a trio will generally use two ropes (always handy for extrications from crevasses), with the members separated by about 100 feet. The total length of the ropes could be over 200 feet—a length occasionally of advantage on a long, treacherous pitch in that one end man may be able to keep a solid belay. The proposed technique, however, allows only one rope-length. Furthermore, it can be used only by a team of three or of some multiple of three. Without intending to advocate two-man parties, I should still say that they are sometimes necessary, and that on expeditions climbers generally rope in pairs. Where varying terrain—snow, ice, rock— must be traversed, as frequently on a big mountain, the proposed technique would not be satisfactory.

I can not be persuaded of the advantages claimed for the new technique. Unless risks are taken, neither method can much increase a party’s speed of climbing. Standard technique is the safer when two are moving and a third is anchoring or belaying. Specialization does not necessarily mean more efficiency in belaying; it may mean less, as has already been suggested. The leader has no more freedom of movement; if circumstances require an unusually long lead, he has less. The two techniques give the middle man equal opportunities to find the best belaying point. The suggestion that the rear man can take up lengths of slack while the leader is falling is difficult to accept, for in a real fall there is not much time to do this, and there is much danger of losing proper control of the rope in an attempt to do it.

Advocates of the proposed techniques have apparently not perceived that, when a leader must be held, the mechanical advantage of the karabiner as brake-pulley is something of a boomerang. Stopping a fall is easy only when a great deal of slack is available. Let us assume that the leader falls and exerts downward pressure of 1000 pounds, the forces being along the fall line of the slope. If the pulley action of the rope through the karabiner is perfect, the instantaneous downward force which the belayer must exert to counterbalance this force must be 1000 pounds. The sum of these two forces must equal the single upward force on the karabiner and middleman anchor—2000 pounds. In a prepared belay position, the upward force would be 2000 pounds in either case; but an analysis of comparative situations indicates that the dynamic ice- axe belay makes for a much sounder position. Not only does the friction of the rope biting into the snow behind the axe mitigate the force more than the friction on the karabiner, but the rope does not tend to pull the axe laterally out of place, as it does in the proposed technique.

Consider now a party using standard technique and climbing continuously. In the event of a fall by the leader, if we assume the forces aforementioned, the upward force on the middle man using the ice-axe self-arrest will be only 1000 pounds, for the force on the belayer equals the force on the leader. If the “sliding middleman technique” were employed and a non-dynamic belay given, the force on the middle man would be 2000 pounds, for the force on the anchor theoretically equals twice the force on the leader. It can be seen that the middle man is the weak link: only perfect application by trained climbers can make it likely that the 15 to 20 feet of slack will be used correctly—that is, in such a way as to ease uniformly to some smaller value the force on all members. Theoretical examples indicate that, in a party climbing in combination, the belay would have to be almost perfect in order to make the force on the middle man less than it would be if standard technique were used.

More dangerous features of the “sliding middleman technique” have yet to be mentioned. If the last man slips while a party is moving together, almost all the force will be on the leader, for on most climbs positions are likely to be closer to the fall line than the advocates of the proposed technique suggest. And what if the middle man slips? Think of the sudden force on the leader (who may not be in a position secure enough to enable him to cope with the fall), and of the possibility of a collision between the middle man and the rear man. If the first two men both fall, the shocks, it is true, should not come simultaneously on the third man, as in standard technique. But the first man and the second may collide; and the third, concentrating on taking in slack, will be lucky if he gets his axe in position quickly enough to stop the fall. If the middle man slips at a time when the party has a fixed belaying position, he may (again) strike the third man with much force. The leader must bear the force of such a fall—yet it is suggested that he should anchor the rope statically.

In crevassed terrain, the middle man is to move across a taut rope on his karabiner. The circumstances are hard to visualize, because most routes are not along a straight line. If the middle man breaks through, he will hang and slide (laterally, perhaps) to the lowest point of the rope. A Bilgeri rescue will be impracticable unless the fallen man can fix the karabiner securely by slings and be certain that it will not slip. Otherwise, he may find himself at the bottom of the crevasse when one of the end men unties. On crevassed terrain, a party would have to carry a second rope to be safe. An escape by Prussik sling would be difficult; and, if the karabiner on the connecting rope were buried in the lip of the crevasse, it might be very difficult, if not impossible, to tie slings above it. What if the middle man is injured? If the leader falls into a crevasse, the axes will be all tied up in a belayed situation, as no assistance can be given until the rope is firmly anchored—a process during which the leader may be dropped further. If the last man falls in while the party is travelling together, he will have an extra drop of 15 feet—the length of the slack usually to be carried by him. Perhaps the most annoying feature of the technique

is that the end men can not prevent short plunges by the middle man. In most cases, these are merely “step-ins,” such that an end man can jerk the middle man out before he falls from sight. I can suggest an improvement: when the party is travelling over crevassed terrain, let the middle man snap into a loop in the rope. But that would be an implicit admission that the technique is not quite practical.

1 Mountain Craft, p. 214; 5th ed. (1946), p. 164.

2 Mountain Craft, p. 260; 5th ed. (1946), p. 211.

3 The basic source is still Young. For further study, see R. M. Leonard and A. Wexler, “Belaying the Leader,” Sierra Club Bulletin, XXXI (Dec. 1946), 68-100. A mathematical study of certain points has been made by Wexler in “The Theory of Belaying,” A.A.J., VII (1950), 379-405. We make a few remarks on this last article. The “dynamic belay” (letting the rope slide some) is age-old. Anyone uses it rather than be pulled off his feet. It is discussed in several places by Young. At the bottom of p. 400, “velocity” should be “acceleration”; the following analysis is incorrect. Pulling in slack if a leader falls is a common experience, especially on snow; though it is dangerous in some circumstances, it is very helpful in others.

1 3rd ed. (London: Methuen and Co., 1934), p. vii.

2 Sierra Club Bulletin, XXX (Dec. 1945), 124.

3 R. M. Leonard and A. Wexler, “Belaying the Leader,” Sierra Club Bulletin, XXXI (Dec. 1946), 68-100.

4 A. Wexler, “The Theory of Belaying,” A.A.J., VII (1950), 390.

5 A.J., XLIV (1932), 348-9.

6 Wexler, op. cit., pp. 393, 405.

7 Young, Mountain Craft, 3rd ed., p. 306.

8 Cf. D. Lind and O. Daiber, “Snow and Ice Travel,” Mountaineer. XXXII (1939), 41.

9 C. Beckwith, “Sliding Middleman Technique in Snow,” Mountaineer, XLIII

10 Ibid., p. 24.