The point everyone misses about the recent K2 incident

Once upon a time there were adventurers climbing the mountain "because it is there" (George Mallory). Today, it's about how fast you can run up and down the same hill.

It is all about the footage and the followers. Instagrammed records. Gathering material for your keynote presentation.

We used to be in it for the moment.

Now, we hope the moment will bring us reach, kickbacks, ROI, followers, fame - and bookings to important events as motivational speakers.

Real alpinists are self sustained mountaineers, and they climb without the assistance of rope fixing teams, helicopters and dozens of sherpa guides to carry your equipment, anchoring you and hauling you to the top.

It used to be about how lean you can climb. Mastering your own fear. Turning around when you realize how small and vulnerable you are in this environment.

It all used to be about how pure and clean you are able to scale the summit, and doing it with respect for its majestic and frightening power. The power to utterly eliminate you with a whiff of an avalanche.

"We are dealing with mass tourism, not alpinism," says Reinhold Messner in an interview with the austrian Der Standard on August 10th.

(Link:) https://www.derstandard.at/consent/tcf/story/3000000182510/messner-nach-skandal-auf-dem-k2-es-werden-in-zukunft-grosse-katastrophen-passieren

"Huge accidents are waiting to happen," Messner warns, adding: "In the near future. This year, it is simply a strike of luck that 30 or 40 wasn't killed on July 27th."

He makes a comparison to a village vs a big city:

"Everyone knows eachother in the village. Everyone says hello when they meet, and if someone gets into trouble, people rush in to help their neighbour. In a big city, you are on your own."

When Muhammad Hassan, the pakistani porter dies on K2, two weeks ago, it is because nobody knows him. He is alone in the big city, the crowd is passing him without concern, since he is just another faceless individual on the street.

When 200 clients waiting in line, having paid $500 000 to be hauled up K2 by a group of hired sherpa, hunza or balti porters and climbers, it is sheer mass tourism. Wating for two or more hours in a line below the dangerous serac in the bottleneck area is hazardous as hell.

You run the risk of dying yourself, even as death again has appeared on the scene as K2's horrific, but oh so well known ingredient, right in front of you.

This was not the plan. Dying was not on the menu, having to help a dying climber certainly wasn't on the itinerary or in the brochure. The dying man, hanging from the ropes has become an obstacle, a disturbance in the force, something that needs to be dealt with - by others - so the expensive ride to the top can continue.

Helicopters to bring ropes up the slope. Sherpa teams throwing themselves on the snowy hillsides to break paths, at all costs. Some of them die trying. The clients are chanting: "This is how dangerous it is up here." Then they crowdfund a buck or two for the widows and the children left behind without their bread winner.

We buy our way out of bad conscience. Like paying for the mass at church, seven hail Marys times seven. A hundred bucks to the family. God help them, because we certainly didn't.

So, in all this; a record setting climber with only half a click left to go, in order to secure her speed record. What do you do? You know you cannot stay here forever, and certainly not abort mission. To help a father of three gone astray, it is mostly his own fault, coming up here with no down suit or proper oxygen mask, lack of training.

He shouldn't have been there. We repeat this, almost with anger in our voice. But we won't comment until it is absolutely necessary. Better to wait, maybe it will all blow over.

Nobody said a word. Everyone posted happy, clappy pictures and cheered for the record. For two weeks, we didn't hear about Muhammad Hassan. Until someone posted a video.

Er, we wanted to wait. In respect. Now would you please not post pictures of his DEAD BODY? Are you really that insensitive?

Clearly, all hoped it would just go away. The unsettling image of a dying somebody, a John Doe on K2 boulevard, a homeless beggar, an aboriginal, a local sitting face down on the curb with no place to go.

Maybe that is why, when celebrating the summmit and the speed record for climbing all 14 of them, we never hear one word about this drama. It simply was too disturbing to mention, and certainly not our fault he had come this high up, just to make a buck to pay for medical treatment for a relative.

"We didn't know him."

Of course you didn't, because the climbers are no longer part of that village, that community where we used to care for eachother.

The climbing venue has taken shape of a circus the size of a metropolis, where there's everyone for himself. Or herself.