A Tribute to Ueli Steck on the Ninth Anniversary of His Passing
Cover photo: Ueli Steck during his expedition to the south face of Annapurna in 2013 (Photo: Patitucciphoto.com)
THE NEWS
Swiss mountaineer Ueli Steck (41), popularly known as «The Swiss Machine» in the mountaineering world, died in an accident near Camp 2 on Mount Everest this Sunday morning, multiple sources at the base camp of the world’s highest peak confirmed.
A group of six rescuers discovered the mountaineer’s body near the Nuptse face on the route to the South Col of Mount Everest, where he may have slipped and fallen on the ice-covered slope. Several climbers had seen him climbing Nuptse alone around 4:30 a.m.
This is the report we published in Alpinismonline Magazine exactly nine years ago. When we were all speechless, unable to grasp that another great one had left his spirit on the mountain. A few days later, as a tribute, we published an article summarizing his entire career and leaving us with his memory. We reproduce it here as a tribute.
THE MEMORY
In an activity where risk reigns supreme, it’s inevitable that from time to time we write about these figures who leave us, but who, at the same time, are making history in world mountaineering.
Great mountaineers, in many cases, pay for their own greatness with their lives. It’s the price the mountain inevitably exacts. Any mountaineer can be climbing one, even the most challenging, and return with their achievement under their belt. Then, at the least expected moment, in the most unexpected place, it takes its toll.
Being reckless on the mountain increases those risks. Impertinent, in the best sense, always maintaining the respect and humility that every mountaineer knows they must possess.
Ueli Steck was undeniably an audacious mountaineer, a daredevil, if you will. He had a style unlike anything we’re used to. He achieved feats, many of them unimaginable. He possessed unparalleled speed when it came to solving routes, and we’re talking about routes that not just anyone can solve.
That was his way of being. Objectionable to some, somewhat excessive to others, too risky for the vast majority. But that was him; it was his way of interacting with the mountains.
And as we said, in the most unexpected scenario, that audacity can come at a price. And that’s what happened this time to Ueli. He was training to solve a route that no one had ever solved before, and the most unexpected scenario appeared, on the least prominent of the three mountains that crown the south col: Nuptse. Yes, a 7,000-meter peak. This time, it was Nuptse that collected the toll.
Let’s go back in time a little, almost nine years. Back then, I remember, Alpinismonline, our publication, was about to be launched. In one of our first articles, we talked about Ueli Steck. Paradoxically, the article was about the disappearance of another of the great Himalayan climbers of that time: Iñaki Ochoa de Olza. So, we’re back in time. Back then, we used to say:
Ueli had never seen Iñaki before Annapurna: «I met him this year, at base camp,» he recounts in a phone conversation. Ueli reached base camp, at about 4,000 meters, with Simon Anthamatten on May 5, 2008. There he met Iñaki. The Navarrese mountaineer was pursuing the summits of Annapurna (8,091 meters) and Kangchenjunga (8,598 meters), the last two he needed to complete the list of the 14 eight-thousanders. Ueli admits that «I had heard of him, but I had never seen him in person.» When he saw him again, at 7,400 meters, Iñaki was still conscious, although he doubts he recognized him. «He knew someone had arrived to help him, but his mind was no longer clear,» Ueli said at the time.
And what followed was the end. In fact, it was Ueli who saw him alive for the last time:
«Iñaki’s sherpas arrived and showed us the way up.» The ascent included four guides, another mountaineer, Simon, and Ueli. Bad weather and the risk of avalanches complicated matters, and it took the group two days to reach Iñaki. The seven reached Camp 3, at 6,900 meters, but the next day only Ueli managed to reach Iñaki’s tent, 500 meters higher. On the climb, he encountered Horia Colibasanu, the Romanian companion who had looked after Iñaki for four nights. He decided to descend when he learned that Ueli was on his way, and his descent opened the route that the Swiss climber ascended. «He was tired and sick. If he had stayed, he would have died too,» Ueli explained regarding Horia’s decision, who was also showing symptoms of pulmonary edema.
«Perhaps with oxygen he could have lasted two more days, but how would we have gotten him down?«
Ueli was the right person for the rescue. In February, he had broken his own speed record for climbing the Eiger’s north face (in the Swiss Alps), completing the 3,970 meters in 2 hours and 47 minutes. In October 2006, he attempted to climb Annapurna solo and without supplemental oxygen, but had to abandon his attempt in May 2007 when a rock struck him on the head.
Ueli couldn’t prevent Iñaki’s death. He arrived on Thursday, and during the night the Navarrese mountaineer’s condition deteriorated until he could no longer endure it. A team had been set up in Pamplona to coordinate the care Iñaki needed and advise Ueli on his medical treatment. When Iñaki went into cardiac arrest, the Swiss climber tried to resuscitate him with CPR, but it was useless. When did you lose hope that he would survive? «When he stopped breathing, not before.»
This is a story that I remember because it happened at a special time, as I said before, when we started writing Alpinismonline. On the day of Ueli’s death, this story immediately came to mind.
And I also remembered another senseless death that happened a year after Iñaki’s. Similarly, the most unexpected mountain claimed the life of another «imprudent» climber: Slovenian Tomaz Humar. In his case, it was Langtang Lirung, another 7,000-meter peak.
It would seem that, in some cases, 7,000-meter peaks are responsible for collecting their due. There are more cases, including some involving famous climbers; we’ll save another one for the end.
But beyond that, Tomaz’s case shares many similarities with Ueli’s. A 7,000-meter peak, a fall, and both were the same age, 40. Tomaz’s fall wasn’t as dramatic, but it was fatal:
«This is my end,» were the last words he was heard saying over the radio. According to members of his team, who found him lifeless two days later, he had a broken leg and spine.
In 2012, Ueli Steck summited Everest without supplemental oxygen. At that time, Ueli himself was writing a chronicle about that promotion. I’ll let him explain it to you:
«There are few things in a mountaineer’s life that simply must be done. For me, one of these was climbing Mount Everest. It was one of the goals I wanted to achieve as a climber and mountaineer.
Mount Everest is the highest point on the planet. Nowhere is the air as thin as on Everest. It’s the third Pole. Reaching the roof of the world has always been an idea that haunts me.
However, I was afraid. From a commercial standpoint, this mountain is literally massacred. A huge business has developed around it in recent years, a business focused primarily on those clients who reach the summit using fixed ropes and supplemental oxygen. Without oxygen, only 142 ascents have been recorded—a small percentage, considering that almost 6,000 summits have been reached.
Since Loretan and Troillet (1986), no other Swiss climber has reached the summit of Everest without oxygen and returned to base camp. This fascinated me. Many powerful mountaineers needed multiple attempts to achieve the summit, without using that magnificent doping that comes out of the bottle.»
That phrase is excellent: «without using that magnificent doping that comes out of the bottle.» Something unthinkable for his level of mountaineering. Let’s continue:
«This shouldn’t worry me too much. It’s everyone’s personal decision how to climb Everest. For me, a climb with supplemental oxygen has never been an option. From the beginning, I was very clear that I wanted to be on the true summit, without artificial oxygen.
The path to the top was long and seemed endless. Suddenly, the pace was no longer slow. I looked up, and the South Summit seemed to be getting nowhere. Finally, I didn’t see the leader. That meant he had reached that summit. So, we had 100 meters left to the top. From the South Summit, you descend 20 meters and continue along the ridge to the roof of the world. I checked my watch. It was late. It would be after midday when we reached the summit. The weather was still perfect. But what if it changed? A storm was unlikely. And for the 19th, it was still good. I trusted the Sherpas. They’ve been up there many times and know what they’re doing. I knew I could descend very quickly. In an hour and a half, I could get down to the South Col if I descended.» From the south summit where I was, I decided to take the risk and continue.
At the Hillary Step, I had to wait longer—at least 40 minutes. I started to shiver. The temperature wasn’t very low, maybe -20°C. Nevertheless, I was shivering. I was glad when we moved on. I was disappointed with the Hillary Step. I had expected it to be more impressive. It wasn’t even vertical. Suddenly, it seemed to me that the others were moving quickly. I couldn’t keep up with them. From then on, it was time to fight, I told myself. And I wanted to reach the summit. Tenji was coming up behind me; I couldn’t see him. He would come. I concentrated on my steps. Each one was leading me to the summit. But where was the summit? Finally, I accepted that the others would set the pace. As long as I could keep up, everything would be fine. I could think clearly; I controlled my steps. But, it must have been the altitude, I felt powerless. Not exhausted, just slow, terribly slow. Finally, I reached the summit. Prayer flags fluttered in the wind. Some Sherpas were already there. No more fixed ropes. It was 1:15 pm.
This was his account of his ascent to the roof of the world, told in Ueli’s own words. A priceless document, even more so now.
On October 9, 2013, Ueli achieved one of his most significant accomplishments, earning him the 2013 Piolet d’Or: his solo ascent of the south face of Annapurna. After 20 hours of solo climbing, scaling an ice wall over 3,000 meters high and surviving an avalanche that nearly wiped him off the mountain, he reached the summit via the south face of Annapurna. Eight hours later, he was entering base camp. In doing so, he became the first person to successfully climb the south face of Annapurna, perhaps the most technically challenging ascent in the world, and scored one of the most impressive feats in the history of mountaineering.
And it was on Annapurna, the mountain with which we began this story, yes, with the failed rescue of Iñaki Ochoa. Annapurna. The «Goddess of the Harvests.»
To conclude, I’ll share the farewell of Simone Moro, his friend, who, upon learning of his passing, made this testimony public at the time:
«There is no such thing as a noble death or a miserable death. Ueli wasn’t seeking approval or understanding; he was simply striving to do things in the best way possible, according to his desires and motivations. He had the ‘flaw’ of being ahead of the curve, perhaps too much so, and that’s why many of his colleagues, instead of silently revering his skill, preferred to doubt him and ask questions. He was a champion, in sports and in life. Life has given me the gift of having experienced and shared parts of his existence and plans. And that, for me now, is a treasure, a gift, amidst all the pain I feel now for having lost him. Goodbye, Ueli, see you later.»
And as Simone says, surely, he wasn’t seeking anyone’s approval, only his own, striving to do things his way; that was his style, objectionable to some, satisfying to him, daring for the mountain.
At the beginning, we were talking about this issue of the seven-thousanders that absurdly claim the lives of great mountaineers. It happened again recently with Ueli Steck, a similar case, bordering on the identical, to Tomaz Humar in 2009, and we’ve saved a very special one for last, remembering Chogolisa, that majestic seven-thousander that claimed the life of the great eight-thousander conqueror back in June 1957: Hermann Buhl.
Ueli Steck wrote a large part of the history of contemporary mountaineering, leaving behind the legacy of a very particular and extremely difficult style to execute; therein lies the very essence of this loss: there is no one today who can match this style and achieve his accomplishments.
And that distinctive style, so characteristic of him, displayed in recent times on every mountain that lay before him, one step after another, seeking the summit, seeking to assert his presence on the mountain. It was Nuptse, the silent protagonist of this story; tragic for us, lovers of mountaineering and great feats; exhilarating for the mountain itself, which feeds on these adventurous spirits, forging its own spirit, which will then be present in every ascent and attempt to conquer it, granting it the wisdom to ultimately decide who can and who cannot.
Beyond what we experience year after year in the Himalayan springs, the spring of 2017 was undoubtedly a significant protagonist in the history of Himalayan mountaineering, because of what it claimed. And it is Nuptse, almost oblivious to what is happening around him, who made his presence felt so that we will all remember that spring from now on as the spring of Nuptse.
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