MOUNTAINEERING HAD LONG BEEN A sport portrayed in the media through the eyes of men as an escape from domestic life to the wilds of the outdoors. In many societies, being “feminine” meant staying at home, while masculinity was defined as seeking faraway adventures. By the late 1980s, the world of high-dollar, flashy expeditions had erupted. Commercially organized mountaineering tours could take clients as high as their pockets were deep. The influence of money was apparent, both in the gear developed to aid in climbs and in the amount needed to undertake far-flung trips. At the time, the commercial landscape was heavily male-dominated, resulting in women creating their own, allfemale trips.
Among the earliest to take this approach was mountaineer Arlene Blum, who in 1969 received this response to her request to join an allmale expedition in Afghanistan:
Dear Miss Blum:
Not too easy a letter to write as your prior work in Peru demonstrates your ability to go high, and a source I trust has furnished a glowing account of your pleasant nature in the mountains.
But one woman and nine men would seem to me to be unpleasant high on the open ice, not only in excretory situations, but in the easy masculine companionship which is so vital a part of the joy of an expedition.
Sorry as hell.
Aside from the perceived intrusion of females at base camp, the ability of women to undertake the same physical rigors as men was called into question, as Blum discovered. “When I asked why women wouldn’t be admitted to a commercial climb of Mount McKinley that year,” she recalled, “I was informed that women are a liability in the high mountains: They are not strong enough to carry their share of the loads and lack the emotional stability to withstand the psychological stresses of a high-altitude climb.”
There’s little doubt that the physical challenges women face in alpine climbing are different from those men face. With generally smaller bodies, women shoulder a larger percentage of their body weight than men when required to carry the basics needed for survival at high altitudes. Yet many women argue that the mental game women play is more effective and better suited to the stress of climbing. Mountaineer Vanessa O’Brien, the first American and British (dual citizen) woman to successfully summit K2 in 2017, explained it this way: “I believe women have a bit of luck, which comes in two forms. The first is their open and transparent communication style that helps them get where they need to go. The second is their mental focus that helps them stay the course when the going gets tough: and the going always gets tough. That’s quite simply, our secret.”
WITH LITTLE FANFARE, SCOTT FISCHER invited Stacy Allison to climb Everest with him in 1987. A friend from his NOLS days, Allison had the grit and talent to be part of the expedition, no matter her gender. Though the two didn’t summit, in 1988 she attempted again with a different group, this time becoming the first American woman to reach the top of the world’s highest peak. The news buoyed Scott, for if anyone could see the strength women brought to the mountains—in practice or in spirit—it was Scott. His own mother, Shirley, had graced Everest Base Camp on one of his trips there, spending time with him in the place he loved.
In 1993, elite rock climber Lynn Hill became the first person to free climb the Nose, a route on El Capitan in the Yosemite Valley. Though she’d already won competitions all over the world, she faced the same challenges as other women in terms of gender discrimination. When some attributed Hill’s success to the fact that she had small fingers and a petite frame, she responded:
Both are true facts, but there were other sections of the route that were perhaps more difficult for me because of my small size. I think those statements indicate hints of jealousy that come from sexism and the idea that men always have to be better—if a woman does something before a man, some men try to find a reason to undermine the achievement instead of just recognizing the beauty and vision of the ascent. No matter what size you are, you still have to be a very good climber to free climb the Nose, so why couldn’t they accept the fact that a woman is capable of making such a breakthrough ascent? I don’t see a point in dwelling on people’s smallminded ego problems. It’s not my problem; it’s their problem.
The conversation of whether women approached climbing differently than men evolved through the 1990s. While it was still not uncommon to recognize the basic physiological differences, people became more cautious about making assumptions based on gender. Chris adopted this approach in her own climbing. Differences existed among climbers, more often between individuals and less between genders.
As she grew in the sport, her source of inspiration remained Polish climber Wanda Rutkiewicz. With nine summits of 8,000-meter peaks to her name, Rutkiewicz perished in 1992. She lost her life on Kangchenjunga, on the Nepal-India border, just as Chris was falling in love with climbing. “Wanda was a huge influence on me,” Chris said. “She played a huge part in establishing a place for women in the high-altitude mountaineering world. Unfortunately there hasn’t really been anyone after her.”
Christine Boskoff was next.
CHAPTER 5
BROAD PEAK
TUCKED INTO THE BORDER BETWEEN Pakistan and China, 26,401-foot Broad Peak ranks high on the list of 8,000-meter peaks for those in the game of summiting all fourteen. Though steep in sections, the mountain lacks any sheer vertical walls, and there’s little technical climbing required. Broad Peak’s wide summit stretches a mile long, offering stunning views of nearby K2 and both Gasherbrum I and II.
Accessing Broad Peak requires a trek of a week or more from Askole, the last village in Pakistan connecting climbers to the rest of the world. The hike to base camp funnels expeditions directly along the top of the Baltoro Glacier, a thirty-five-mile-long, three-mile-wide expanse of breathtaking beauty. Dividing the Indian subcontinent from Tibet, this part of the Karakoram Range packs in a few 8,000-meter peaks along with many just below that height, like younger siblings but nearly as formidable. An intoxicating stretch of rock and ice reaches a pinnacle at the convergence of the Baltoro with the Godwin-Austen Glacier. Known as Concordia, the intersection gives climbers their first views of K2 and Broad Peak. The sight has been known to stun and shock mountaineers in such a way that some climbers immediately wither, surrendering any hope of making it to the top.
IN JULY 1995, KEITH AND Chris took leave from their Atlanta jobs to climb Broad Peak. It would be the first attempt at this altitude for both of them. After years of partnering with Keith, Chris was going to get the chance to test her fortitude with others, including Scott Fischer. Scott had gathered a team of friends suited to the challenges of the mountain. He’d also hired Lopsang Jangbu Sherpa, a high-altitude guide, who had become a trusted team member after summiting Everest with Scott. This climbing season bridged the gap between Scott’s 1994 clean-up expedition to Everest and the Everest expedition he was planning with clients for the next year.
When they arrived, Broad Peak Base Camp bustled with activity. Its proximity to K2 meant that climbers attempting that lofty peak need only take an easy hike of an hour to visit with those on Broad Peak. The Mountain Madness camp welcomed climbers both established and unknown. Among the more famous was Peter Hillary, the son of legendary alpinist Sir Edmund Hillary. He’d be attempting K2 with British mountaineer Alison Hargreaves, who just months earlier had reached the summit of Mount Everest without the assistance of Sherpas, fixed ropes, or bottled oxygen.
Unlike Chris, Alison had climbed for decades before arriving at K2 in 1995. But like Chris, she’d risen without much initial notice in the sport of mountain climbing. In a field packed with men, the women in Europe who’d gained notoriety had often been heralded more because of their gender than their
