Same Board, Different Rules

Michael Kennedy and John Steiger

“Gee, in the old days people used aid to make things easier, nowadays they use aid to make things harder.”

—Juanita Donini, comment on the debate

ROCK CLIMBING in the U.S. has been in a state of flux over the past several years. European climbers, particularly the French with their very high standards of gymnastic rock climbing, have had great influence on the methods deemed acceptable in this country for pioneering new routes. Both in print and through their actions on the crags, America’s leading climbers have also sought to influence the direction of U.S. free climbing as we move into the latter half of the decade.

There appear to be two conflicting areas of style in the country today. In traditional style, the climber starts from the bottom of the proposed route, with the eventual goal of free climbing to the top without falling. When falls are taken, the leader typically lowers to the ground or to a no-hands or similarly-relaxed stance, commonly leaving the rope through the last piece of protection. This is known as yo-yoing. All protection is placed on lead.

Similarly, the goal in French style is to free climb the route from the bottom to the top with no falls. However, anything goes to figure out the moves. This includes inspecting the proposed route from rappel, placing fixed protection from rappel, and rehearsing.

Rehearsing may be from a toprope or on lead. Lead rehearsal is often referred to as hangdogging, which denotes using direct aid or the rope to rest while figuring out individual moves or sequences. The final ascent, where the leader climbs the route from the bottom to the top without weighting the rope or any protection, and commonly placing and clipping all non-fixed protection, is known as a redpoint ascent.

Several other terms are being widely used to differentiate style, primarily for repeat ascents. A vue or on-sight denotes absolutely no prior knowledge of the route. First try implies that a previous attempt by another climber has given the leader crucial move information.

The term flash, originally coined by Jim Bridwell in an early issue of Mountain, has been used to describe both on-sight and first try ascents. Most climbers now use on-sight flash to describe what all styles view as a perfect ascent: on-sight, with no falls.

In an effort to promote a reasonable dialogue on this subject, the American Alpine Club sponsored “The Great Debate (Or, Is 5.14 Worth It?)”, which took place last December during the 84th Annual Meeting in Denver. This was certainly a political coup for the Club, but as could have been expected, nothing was resolved. Perhaps a more appropriate title would have been “Great Opinions—For Those Who Don’t Know Already, Or Can’t Guess.”

Still, it was impressive to have John Bachar, Henry Barber, Christian Griffith, Lynn Hill, Ron Kauk, Rob Robinson, Todd Skinner, Randy Vogel, and Alan Watts sitting together at the same table, having an amiable discussion on rock climbing’s “new style”—namely, bolting on rappel and hangdogging.

The debate turned out to be a loose-knit slinging of ideals rather than a point-by-point analysis. Not surprisingly, the 400-strong audience displayed a clear preference for the traditionalist side of the table, and the out-manned “eurodogs” (a term coined by Russ Raffa and Lynn Hill earlier in the day) seemed destined to be overwhelmed during the question-answer period following each panelist’s statement of position. Nevertheless, all concerned held their positions well, first through a pointed, one-by-one grilling by AAC President Jim McCarthy, and later through questioning by the audience.

Clearly, no side “won,” but the points raised appear to have summed up virtually all the concerns voiced throughout the country, as European tactics are slowly but surely becoming accepted, and traditionalists struggle to maintain “The Way.”

Issues of climbing style reflected the broadest range of opinion, although most seemed to agree that style is a personal matter. Tactics such as hang-dogging, previewing on rappel, and toprope rehearsal were wholeheartedly embraced by Griffith, Skinner and Alan Watts, who was perhaps the most eloquent spokesman for these neoeuropean traditions:

“Personally, I am strongly a proponent of European tactics. Hangdogging is essential to acquire the skills necessary to succeed on today’s hardest climbs. Traditional tactics, as commendable as they are, simply are not a means to succeed on 5.14.

“Many critics of European tactics feel that high numbers are not everything—they point to adventure, danger, and inner growth as vital components of the sport. Indeed, numbers are not everything, but difficulty has always been an important part of climbing tradition.

“The Europeans are way ahead of us in the free climbing game. The world’s hardest routes, the boldest solos, and the most remarkable flashes have all been accomplished by Europeans. Throughout the 1960’s and 1970’s, the U.S. was on top of the rock-climbing world, and I’ve always been proud of this. Frankly, it bothers me when I hear the top French climbers referring to U.S. climbing as a ‘myth.’ The only way for us to improve enough to climb their hardest routes is to adopt their style.

“Climbing the hardest routes is not important to everyone, and there’s no reason why it should be. But for those of us who have made it our goal to put the U.S. on top again, the path to take is clear. Among these individuals, there is no debate.”

In sharp contrast, Bachar, Barber and Kauk took the strongest stands against these European tactics. Henry Barber disagreed with the importance Watts put on competing in the international climbing arena:

“I don’t really see climbing as competition. I see climbing as an activity that is sensitive to the environment. It’s an activity in which we can develop ethics and style, and where we can develop long-lasting friendships, experiences, and camraderie.

“I’ve been climbing for 18 years, I’ve been fortunate to travel all over, and I have a really good feel for the history of rock climbing throughout the world. I have never used Friends for protection. I don’t hangdog, I don’t toprope. I rely on doing a lot of climbing with a lot less.

“Since 1975, when confronted with a possible fall, I’ve either downclimbed to a restpoint or to the belay, and then started back up. In the event of a fall, or if I have to be lowered to a restpoint or the belay, I go down and pull the rope back through.

“I think that style matters in life. I think that tomorrow is another day. We should leave some of these gems of climbs and real challenges for climbers who will be really inspired to do them in the best possible style.”

Hill, Robinson, and Vogel all took a more moderate position on matters of style, primarily from the viewpoint that differences in style do not affect others directly. Rob Robinson, speaking about the relatively-recent development of the Southeastern Sanstone Belt, summed up the attitudes of many:

“The South is a sanctuary where climbers could care less whether you are a eurodogger, redpointer, or believe that the earth is flat. It is enough that you are a climber who shares in the spirit, power, and aesthetics that guide us in our dream-like existence in the vertical world. That you love the sport is, in the final analysis, enough for us.

Lynn Hill commented, “With my background as a gymnast, I view hang-dogging as a technique for training, not climbing. Clearly, it has produced some very hard routes. I don’t see anything wrong with it—it doesn’t hurt anyone else.”

Vogel continued along the same lines: “Hangdogging and previewing may erode a climber’s personal integrity, but once that person is gone, I can still experience the rock the way it was before.”

This statement reflected the stand-off on style very concisely. Although most of the panelists felt that other’s style didn’t interfere in their own climbing, they were quick to criticize. Either the others weren’t climbing as hard because they were too attached to an antiquated style or the others weren’t reaping the full benefits of experience because they were adopting styles with no basis in adventure.

Comparing the two styles is difficult, to say the least. To Robinson, the question that sums it up is, “What is harder, doing a 5.12c/d on-sight in traditional style, or doing a 5.14 hangdog?” This feeling that higher numbers don’t represent a higher quality of experience is a point well taken by climbers of all standards, 5.4 to 5.14. Traditionalists maintained that the traditional quality of experience is higher, as can be seen by Kauk’s statement: “To truly raise the standards of freeclimbing, you can’t sacrifice style or purity for a higher number.”

Issues concerning climbing ethics elicited far more disagreement. Even the definition of the term seemed hard to pin down: do ethics involve only the physical alteration of the rock, or do ethics include actions which infringe upon the rights of others? Or both?

Probably the biggest area of contention centered around the gray area where personal style and community ethics overlap, very specifically the practice of placing bolts on rappel. Todd Skinner summed up the essential new-wave argument: “Ethically, drilling bolts on the lead, bolts however they are drilled, it doesn’t matter. The performance is the end.”

Watts again brought the place of the American climber in the world scene to the forefront: “Bolting on rappel is the only way to protect (these) futuristic routes. Denying the validity of hangdogging and pre-placing bolts closes one’s eyes to one of the best tools available to improve. Simply put, (these tactics) allow a climber to do a hard route faster, and I feel that the more hard routes you do, the better climber you will be. Time is spent facing new challenges, rather than wiring the same old problem. But if this fails to convince you, I suggest a trip to Smith Rock to attempt America’s first 5.14, the Sunshine Wall, a route recently pioneered by Frenchman J. B. Tribout. This one route does more to show the benefits of European tactics than any amount of debate.”

In contrast, John Bachar summed up the traditionalist’s argument that routes should be started from the ground: “I don’t really believe bolts should be placed on rappel—it offends the guys who are out to do first ascents (from the ground up). I travel around looking for virgin rock; I’m looking for gymnastically-difficult stuff. But I like to do it on the lead. I don’t know anything about it; I’m up there pushing gymnastics; I’m trying to put it all together for that first ascent.

“For example, I’ve worked on routes before, fallen off, gotten hurt, then came back to find that some guy put bolts in on rappel and did the ‘first ascent.’ It seems that he copped out on the challenge by walking around the back. I would have more respect if the guy drilled a bolt ladder and freed it—at least he faced up to the fact that he had to climb the route.

“Another reason for not bolting on rappel is that after someone has toproped it, the bolts might be too far apart for someone to attempt it on-sight. For example, if I got into this business of placing bolts on rappel after toproping, I could produce some death routes.

“Should I expect a person to walk up and climb something on-sight, after I had it thoroughly wired? That would be unfair. So the only way to bolt is on the lead, on-sight, without prior knowledge of the route. And if you can’t do it, leave it for someone else.”

And what of the difference between bolts placed on hooks and those placed on rappel? Although Bachar acknowledged that a bolt placed on hook is aid, the similarities stop there. “The big difference is whether or not you start from the ground. A lot of these new routes placed on rappel are really abstract, in the sense that the methods used have no practical sense in the world of alpinism. Placing a bolt on rappel is not a choice in the mountains.”

Randy Vogel sees an analogy between what industry is doing to the environment and what the current trend of placing bolts on rappel is doing to the rock. “The oil industry is saying, ‘We need to exploit our environment so we can insure our great status as a nation, do what ever it takes to stay ahead.’ They’re looking at the short term, not the long term.”

This theme, that first ascentionists who place bolts on rappel are depleting the potential for first ascents too quickly, was echoed by Robinson. “Too me it looks like they the Europeans are burning the rock reserves up. They’re not going to have anything left.”

Henry Barber added an interesting tack to the traditionalist argument, invoking the name of diversity. “I really don’t want to tell people how to climb, but I really believe that when you are in Rome, you do as the Romans do—and I don’t want to build Rome here. I want to go to Rome, I want to travel all over the world and experience the different types of climbing available in different areas. I don’t want to make it all the same.”

Lynn Hill took perhaps the most moderate position on the issue of rappel-placed bolts. “I don’t look down on people who place bolts. There are obviously different types of rock, limestone in France, welded tuff in Smith Rocks, and I have enjoyed doing routes that have been bolted on rappel. … Each area is unique and it is the responsibility of the local climbers to organize themselves and decide what should be done.”

Certainly, this deference to local practice weaved through many of the panelists’ comments. Not surprisingly, the question of community enforcement, namely chopping bolts, soon came up.

If there was a unanimous agreement on anything, it was on manufacturing holds. Virtually every panelist denounced this practice, despite style. Griffith, who apparently embraced the concept in his opinion article “Manifesto” (Climbing no. 98), addressed McCarthy’s query on the issue: “Most people up here consider chipping holds as being completely disadvantageous. I really agree with that right now.” He further qualified his position by stating, “I consider extreme difficulty as being relatively unnatural. You have to have just enough that you can climb it but not so much that it is easy, and the variation in between is very, very limited. There may come a time when there isn’t a natural place for a 5.15, or 5.16.”

Others were far more vocal on this issue. Skinner stated that manufacturing holds is where the quest for ultimate difficulty ceases. “That is the point where you admit the route is too hard for you.” Vogel summed up the traditionalist’s argument against alteration of the rock itself: “People think, ‘Well, nobody really chops holds,’ but there are some very revered climbers who have been known to participate in this activity. What those climbers were saying is that they were the best climbers in the world, and that nobody would ever be any better.

“People are justifying what they’re doing because of the extreme level of climbing they’re participating in. They’re doing a 5.13, therefore it is justifiable to do something a little quasi-ethical. However, five or ten years from now, dozens of people will be doing 5.13’s every day—to think otherwise is very naive.”

Bachar reiterated the idea of leaving the rock intact for future generations, pointing out that in Buoux, “Chiseling is commonplace. Some 7c’s that were the hardest routes of the time were chiseled, manufactured to make them go. Now 7c’s are commonplace, and they’re looking for 8b’s and 8c’s to do. They had them—they chiseled them to make the 7c’s—and now the new 8b’s are (being) manufactured.”

Another area of agreement was on the need for communication and honesty in reporting new routes. A concensus to respect local traditions was also reached, although tradition is subject to change. Watts pointed out: “Change is inevitable. When a majority of the local climbers in each area decide it’s time for a transition, then change will occur, despite tradition. Change, as much as anything, is what tradition in climbing is about.”

Clearly, every panelist came to the podium hoping to explain their position and sway attitudes. Equally clear, however, was the feeling of community as the panelists lined up for photographs shortly after. Barber’s closing remark seemed to be dead-center on the proverbial nail:

“Together, the old chumsters like me and these guys today, we can all walk away from here talking the same language even though we don’t agree. think this is really where the future of the sport lies.”