Arlene Blum - Breaking Trail: A Climbing Life

by Sir Chris Bonington

A RLENE B LUM HAS LED a remarkable life. From unlikely beginnings, she became a leader in the breakthrough of women into mountaineering on the worlds highest peaks. Hers is a compelling narrative on many levelsit is a warm and intimate memoir, an important account of the development of womens climbing, and a dramatic adventure story.

Climbers autobiographies and biographies all too often focus on their ascents to the exclusion of anything personal. Arlene, by contrast, is courageously open about her private life. As well as riveting accounts of her expeditions, she shares with the reader her childhood travails, passage through university, discovery of climbing, relationships on and off the hill, struggles with chauvinistic colleagues, and work as a distinguished research scientist.

These all come together in a beautifully crafted book describing a full and fascinating life. I found myself empathizing with her, for I also was brought up by a single parentmy motherhelped by my grandmother, with conflict between them. I, too, was initially awkward in forming relationships with the opposite sex but was immensely fortunate in finding the woman of my life when I was twenty-seven.

I also share with Arlene the rewards and stresses of leading high-altitude mountaineering expeditions. I have had the same doubts about my ability to lead, hassles with individualistic fellow climbers, and dilemmas in balancing my climbing and personal life. And I, too, have lost all too many close friends.

The hurdles I faced, however, were much lower than those that confronted Arlene. Im an Anglo-Saxon male, and this makes things a great deal easier. Arlene started her climbing career at a time when women were perceived as dutiful seconds who held the rope, made the tea, and did what they were told. In trying to climb with men on an equal basis, Arlene suffered rejections both from individuals and the climbing establishment. Yet she persevered, establishing firsts for women and also planning and carrying out a series of unique adventures, including her inimitable Endless Winter.

Her leadership of the American Womens Himalayan Expedition was an exceptional achievement. Annapurna I is one of the most serious of the 8,000-meter peaks and a desperately dangerous mountain. Arlene set aside trying to reach the summit herself to support the efforts of her teammates. When I led my expedition to Annapurna South Face in 1970, I similarly had to cope with the diverse aspirations of my team and devastating tragedy after success had been attained.

This memoir is gripping throughout and extraordinarily rewarding at the end, when Arlenes childhood, climbing, and scientific careers come together in a surprising and satisfying manner. I heartily recommend Breaking Trail to both men and women climbers (and to armchair mountaineers) as well as to anyone who faces uphill struggles. We learn from Arlenes story that with conviction and persistence, we can achieve our most challenging and improbable goals.

S IR C HRIS B ONINGTON

Nether Row, Cumbria

United Kingdom

March 2005

T HE TOP! W E MADE IT! Exhilarated, the six of us cheered and hugged. We were the first team of women to reach the arctic summit of Denali, the highest mountain in North America. All around us, the high peaks of the Alaska Range extended to the horizon like frozen waves on a turbulent sea. Looking eight thousand feet straight down the vertical south face, we saw a thickening blanket of dark clouds. Although a storm very likely raged below, it was warm and windless up here at 20,320 feet.

We shared a quick lunch and congratulations, but there was little time for celebration. Grace, our leader, was ill and getting worse by the moment. Moving slowly all day, she had insisted on continuing up and had barely made it to the top. Now she lay slumped in the snow, pallid and still. We needed to get her to a lower elevationand fast.

Margaret and Faye led her down the summit ridge on a short rope. Then Dana and I each took one of Graces arms and supported her across a plateau the length of several football fields. She staggered between us in a stupor, her weight dragging us into the sun-softened snow.

One step at a time, I encouraged her. Youve got to keep moving. We managed to get her across the flat area and back up an easy rise to a ridge at 19,600 feet, where she fell onto the snow, retching.

Try to drink a little. Faye held her water bottle to Graces chapped lips.

Stop bothering me, Grace moaned. Im finished.

I grasped her hand and tried to pull her up. Weve got to keep moving, Grace.

Go away. She jerked her hand back and sank down, murmuring. Im going to die. Leave me here in peace. Her eyes closed and she drifted into unconsciousness.

I was terrified. As the deputy leader, I needed to take charge. Our camp was three thousand vertical feet below, we had little emergency gear, and it was seven in the evening. Exhausted from our long ascent, we had to get Grace down the mountain or stay up here with her. Both options seemed impossible.

On the summit of Denali (Mt. McKinley), July 6, 1970. (From left, standing) Dana Isherwood, Margaret Young, and Margaret Clark. Faye Kerr and Grace Hoeman are in front. Im the photographer.

Our team needed a strong leader and a sound plan of action. And so, at age twenty-five, on the frigid apex of North America, with storm clouds massed below and the specter of disaster in Graces inert body, I reluctantly became an expedition leader.

Since that fateful day on Denali, I frequently ask myself why I spend my time and money to sentence myself to lack of oxygen, fierce weather, hard physical labor, and possible death. And I resolve that on my next vacation, Im going to the beach. But invariably, I find myself once again breaking trail through deep snow or trying to sleep on a narrow, icy ledge.

To understand why I love climbing distant mountains, I decided to look close to home, specifically at my upbringing. As a child who was not allowed to cross the street, literally or figuratively, I learned how to find my path through or around most barriers. Like a compressed spring, I was catapulted by my narrow, overprotected early years into the heights. Reliving my childhood while writing this book, I discovered surprising solutions to some family mysteries as well as unexpected roots of my ability to lead mountaineering expeditions, do scientific research, and turn far-fetched visions into reality.