Close to the edge
On taking care of each other
You might have read recently about the Austrian man who was convicted of gross negligent manslaughter, after leaving his girlfriend behind on an ascent of Grossglockner. She was a significantly less experienced climber than him, and died of hypothermia while he carried on. The man has been strongly criticised for his failure to turn back or call for help, but the main reason this case has attracted attention is the judge’s assertion that, as the more experienced member of the party, he should have taken responsibility for her safety. This, commentators are saying, has troubling implications for anyone who goes on an adventure with people less experienced than them.
I’m not going to offer any judgement or commentary on the Grossglockner case, of which I know no more than has been published in the news. There are far better qualified people to speak on the matter than me. I know that it has been a topic of discussion – and avoidance – among climbing communities, and I know that mountaineers already have a far more explicit system of ethics and etiquette than many other outdoor sports.
But it was inevitable that I should find myself preoccupied by this case. It raises difficult questions about who takes responsibility in the outdoors, and how we can better take care of the people we ride (and run and hike) with. It’s made me realise that the most important thing I need to cultivate in the groups I’m leading is honesty.
I have worked extensively as a guide and ride leader. I have also been guided and led, and informally spent a lot of time in the outdoors with friends, some of whom are more experienced than me, and some far less. There is, I now understand, a grey area in mixed-ability groups, especially when it’s friends or peers, rather than a party with a clearly defined leader.
Someone I know was involved in a sea kayaking incident a few years ago, and very nearly lost his life. Among many other factors in this near-catastrophe was the fact that some of his party were experienced kayakers, and some virtually beginners. Statistically, he told me, things are more likely to go wrong in a group of mixed ability. He himself was one of the more experienced members, and as far as I recall it hadn’t been any obvious mistake on the part of the novices that caused things to go awry – it was the product of countless small decisions, reactions and interactions, as well as the sea not behaving in a way that anyone had expected.
Thankfully I’ve never found myself in a life-or-death situation, but hearing about near misses like this has made me realise just how many assumptions we make about each other when we’re adventuring together, how wrong those might sometimes be, and how quickly things could escalate if, to give just a few examples, a tired rider says they’re ok when they’re not, or one member of the group doesn’t realise the others are relying on her for navigation, or another is assumed to be competent just because he has all the gear.
