Jimmy Chin - There and Back: Photographs from the Edge

Acknowledgments

This book owes its existence to many.

To Mom and Dad, thank you for your unconditional love and for shaping me into who I am today.

Thank you to my sister, Grace, who has taken care of me for as long as I can remember and encouraged me to forge my own path.

I am indebted to my dear friends and mentorsConrad Anker and Jennifer Lowe-Anker, Rick and Jennifer Ridgeway, Yvon and Malinda Chouinard, Doug and Kris Tompkins, David Breashears, Galen Rowell, and Jon Krakauerfor sharing their wisdom and showing me the way.

Thank you to my editor, Matt Inman, my designer, Kelly Booth, and my agent, Alex Kane, for their patience and guidance at each stage of creating this book.

Thank you to Jon Krakauer, Marshall Heyman, and David Gonzales for the help with the writing. There is a reason I am a photographer and not a writer.

There are countless climbers, skiers, snowboarders, alpinists, and mountaineers who have inspired me to do what I do, especially Peter Croft, Dean Potter, Steph Davis, Timmy ONeill, Alex Honnold, Tommy Caldwell, Jeremy Jones, Travis Rice, Scot Schmidt, and my teammates on The North Face Athlete Team. Youve all influenced me more than you know.

I am especially thankful to my photographer peers at National Geographic, whose excellence I am endlessly aspiring to; to Sadie Quarrier, my photo editor at National Geographic, for all of her insight and editing over the years; to Rebecca Martin who believed in me from the beginning and to The North Face and Steve Rendle for supporting me over the last twenty years.

To my friends who have always been there for me through thick and thin, I am forever grateful to all of you. Special thanks to Jimmy Hartman, Brady Robinson, Rob and Kit DesLauriers, Doug Workman, Dave Barnett, Eric Henderson, Matt Wilson, Dave Cronin, Mikey Schaefer, Dirk Collins, Peter McBride, and Chris Figenshau.

Finally, thank you to my amazing wife, Chai, for sharing your brilliance with me and for being such an incredible mother; and to my children, James and Marina, for bringing a light and joy to my life I never knew was possible.

Home away from home. Everest base camp. Khumbu, Nepal, 2004.

About the Author

Jimmy Chin is an Academy Awardwinning filmmaker, and National Geographic photographer. For over twenty years, he has collaborated with the greatest adventure athletes and explorers in the world.

As a professional athlete and photographer focused on documenting cutting-edge expeditions, he has climbed and skied Mount Everest from the summit and made the coveted first ascent of the Sharks Fin on Mount Meru, among other firsts. He has photographed on all seven continents, and his images have graced the covers of numerous publications, including National Geographic and the New York Times Magazine. Chins work has also been featured in the New Yorker, Vanity Fair, Outside magazine, and Mens Journal. His photography accolades include being awarded the National Geographic Photographers Photographer Award by his peers in 2020.

As a filmmaker, Chin co-produces and co-directs with his wife, Chai Vasarhelyi. Their film Meru won the Audience Award at the Sundance Film Festival in 2015 and was shortlisted for the 2016 Academy Award for Best Documentary Feature. Their documentary Free Solo won the Academy Award for Best Documentary Feature in 2019, a BAFTA, and seven Primetime Emmy awards. Jimmy splits his time between Jackson Hole, Wyoming, and New York City with Chai; their daughter, Marina; and son, James.

Jugging on the Pacific Ocean Wall. El Capitan, Yosemite National Park, 2007. Photo by Dave Hahn.

CHARAKUSA 1999

Naysar Peak, Charakusa Valley, Pakistan.

You only get to experience your first expedition once.

The unknowns seem greater. The stakes feel higher. The dread, more acute, and the awe, more profound. Traveling to the Charakusa Valley of Pakistan in the summer of 1999 was a turning point for me. It led me away from pursuing any sensible career and toward a life spent scaling big mountains instead.

Id first seen photos of the Charakusa Valley in a climbing magazine. Legendary climber and photographer Galen Rowell had captured stunning images of revered climbers Conrad Anker and Peter Croft making first ascents in the Karakoram range. The images made up my mind; real climbers climbed in the Karakoram Mountains. And I wanted to be a real climber.

I didnt know the first thing about organizing an expedition to Pakistan, so I steered my carmy residence at the timetoward Berkeley, California, to ask Galen myself. After a night sleeping in the parking lot, I walked into the office of the Mountain Light Gallery, looking and smelling like the dirtbag climber I was, and asked a skeptical receptionist if I could see Galen. I was told that he was busy, but that I could wait in the lobby. For five days in a row, I sat patiently until the gallery closed each evening. Galen finally emerged late on a Friday afternoon and said, You must be Jimmy

He ushered me into his office, and for two hours, he shared images and stories from his trip to the Charakusa Valley, explained the logistics of getting there, and gave me his main contact in Pakistan. He then walked me through a room full of prints laid out on tables for him to sign. In between signatures, he explained how hed gotten each shot. Before I left, he handed me a slide, still precious to me, that showed two giant granite towers. Theres your objectives, he said. Make sure you bring a camera.

As I walked into the Charakusa Valley months later, I was struck dumb by the sight of Fathi Tower and Parhat Tower, two granite sentries standing guard. Imagining climbing either filled me with fear. I took out my newly bought camera and snapped a photo.

My climbing partner Brady Robinson and I threw ourselves at Fathi Tower, but were thwarted twice by its size, steepness, and complexity. Waking at 2 a.m. for our third attempt, Brady muttered, This is the last thing I want to do in the entire world. I felt the same. I doubted this was how real climbers were supposed to feel.

We tried one more time, drawing from skills learned on previous ascents in Yosemite and the High Sierra, and sometimes resorting to techniques wed only read about in climbing magazines. As we passed our previous high points, we gained momentum, climbing pitch after pitch. This time, we prevailed. The peak was so sharp we had to take turns perching on the summit for pictures.

Our friends Jed and Doug Workman and Evan Howe joined us later in the trip and we climbed two more new routes in the valley. Wandering up oceans of rock previously untouched by humans changed us forever. We left the valley feeling like real climbers. I didnt know it at the time, but I would devote the next two decades to traveling the world in pursuit of the same sense of fear and awe that gripped me when I first stepped foot in that spectacular valley.

Fathi Tower. Our new route followed the dihedral on the left skyline.