The name of Maurice Herzog, the first man to reach the summit of Annapurna, is widely recognized, but how many know Fou Tharkay, the Sherpa who carried the seriously frostbitten Herzog on his back for miles? Although rarely mentioned in published accounts of early expeditions, local climbers have long been significant members of first ascents on the world’s tallest and most challenging peaks. In Alpine Rising , award-winning writer Bernadette McDonald sets the record straight by shining a light on these too often forgotten heroes.
Now, in the 21st century, it is often local climbers who are setting records. A Nepali team was the first to climb K2 in winter; they reached the summit while singing their national anthem. Pakistani climbers like Little Kim and Ali Sadpara devoted their lives to helping others survive and succeed on and off the mountains and their stories deserve to be more widely known. Not only a timely reminder of the need to recognize the contributions of local climbers and the importance of correcting the historical record, Alpine Rising is a celebration of a region’s local heroes.
Sales benefit the Khumbu Climbing Center (Nepal) and the ASCEND climbing program for girls (Pakistan)
Great book. Been waiting for something like this for years. The tragedies made me angry, we are used to read stories of himalayan ascents in a colonialist perspective, ignoring the enduring "jobs" that unknown locals had to do, and this book helps a lot in telling a more nuanced view of this stories. There is so much to say, but I think Bernadette, as always, said it all.
The only problems I had with the book were when the author tells a lot of short descriptions of lifes of local people, and that gets a little bit convoluted for me, but I understand why she does it.
Also, I've always been against the current ascents of 8000mts mountains, the tourism around them and everything. I strongly dislike the showing-off thing about climbing commercial routes, and all the fuzz around them, especially when people say that it was unsupported but it actually was. There is so much to criticize about this industry, and how media and the public idolize climbers that do something that, for me, is very different from climbing.
But Bernadette McDonald challenged me providing another view, about how locals should be morally allowed to comercialize their mountains to tourism and selfie-hungry-westerners if (and only if) they are respected and they lead this changes. I feel now convinced, and I will think differently from now on. After all, nobody criticizes the excess of huts, via ferratas, stores, signs, family-friendly paths and all that has been done to the Alps. And also, it's fair to celebrate the triumph of the locals after so many unfair treatment from so many people that promote their own achievements risking the lives of people they didn't care about.
As always, thank you, Bernadette! You never fail, every book she writes is an essential read for any mountain-book reader.
This book did such an amazing job at telling the stories of these mountains from the views of the often underserved views of the Nepalese and Pakistani climbers, sherpas, and porters. Hearing about some of the accidents and the way they were treated and often continue to be treated when this sport first started to gain traction was heartbreaking and frankly pissed me off.
I have long had a problem with the capitalization and westernization of the 8,000 peaks however Bernadette challenged me on this. I was forced to think through how the locals to these mountains have a right to take advantage of the interest to make a living if and only if mutual respect for both them as humans and the mountain is shared.
Anyone who is interested in high alpine climbing should give this book a read!
Mountaineering literature often focuses exclusively on the western climbers and their perspectives, experiences, and growth and rarely leaves space for the Nepali and Pakistani climbers. This book is devoted to telling about the stories and heroes within the local communities and how they’ve given back, inspired others, and saved countless lives on and within the shadows of the mountains.
Anyone who loves the mountains, whether they've been to the Himalayas or not, should read this book.
Gives much overdue credit to the local climbers of the Himalaya and sheds light on the abuses they've tolerated in the century and a half of increasing mountaineering in the region.
McDonald is by far my favorite mountaineering author and the approach she took in this book to highlight the “local” climbers who in many cases were responsible for the famous ascents attributed to Westerners by books, newspapers, climbing magazines, and now the digital media. She not only told of the role they played in the historical exploration of the 8000 meter peaks but of the major role in the Golden Age of Himalayan and Karakoram climbing but how these Nepalese and Pakistani climbers have evolved to take control of what they climbed, who climbed with them, what they were paid, and who was the boss on these climbs. Can’t wait for your next book, Bernadette!
On K2 in 1939, a mere few hundred meters from the summit, Pasang Dawa Lama was climbing in support of Fritz Wiessner, the leader of the second American expedition. Wiessner had summit fever. But it was late in the day and the conditions were turning poor. Wiessner took the next step upward, but met resistance from the rope connecting them. Pasang looked to Wiessner and said, "No, sahib." Wiessner passed it off Pasang's desire to stop as superstitious, being so close to the top, the home of the mountain's spirit.
Reluctantly, Wiessner relented and lost his best opportunity to summit. It's also widely believed that Pasang may have saved their lives. I reflected on this story several times in this book, because it encapsulates so many of the things I thought we knew about climbing in the Himalayas in the early 20th Century.
Starting with George Mallory, Western stories about climbing mountains in the Himalaya and Karakorum focused on an individual Western hero, like Fritz Wiessner, and placing local climbers, like Pasang and porters in an ethereal background. In learning about Muhammad Ali Sadpara, Bernadette McDonald, turned her attention to a subject without a lot of previous written records, and researching what did exist and interviewing people in remote regions of Nepal and Pakistan.
The result was Alpine Rising: Sherpas, Baltis, and the Triumph of Local Climbers in the Greater Ranges by Bernadette McDonald and was released by The Mountaineers Books on February 20, 2024. (I appreciate the Oxford comma in the subtitle.) In the acknowledgements section at the end, you can see that she had a cast of many helping interview and gather the information that created the context of their world and the stories of how mountaineering shaped them and, now, how local climbers are shaping mountaineering.
McDonald applies the term local climbers to distinguish those born in and living around the high mountains of the Himalayas and Karakorum, from the foreign or international climbers form elsewhere. Sherpa is one group of people has been the most widely used, both generously with merit and fraudulently, but there are also Ladakhi, Balti, Hunza, Astori, Magar, Bhotia, Rai, and Gurung. McDonald also defines some terms from used in past historical works, from "coolies" (now a demeaning term for hired help or porter,) porter, high-altitude porter (or HAP,) Gurkha (British soldiers now hired from Nepal,) and sahib (a term of respect, once all foreign climbers including Fritz Wiessner, but no longer used today.)
McDonald structures here story chronologically, after introducing the subject, by telling the story of the local climbers involved in the early attempts on Himalayan and Karakorum peaks. Then she shifts to tell the some stories by theme, from a particular climber, like Mingma G., to the widows who started to climb, like Furi Diki, Jangma Sherpa, and Sherki Lamu. In all, she shares the lives of 20-30 local climbers to varying degrees.
She chose the term "mass market climbing" to describe the large commercial climbs that employee many local climbers, especially on Everest and now even on K2 in Pakistan. Multiple generations of local climbers participate, mostly fathers and sons and uncles and nephews, earning their money for their grit and later their skills and tenacity at the heights. While I dislike that style of climbing, it has given birth to Ali Sadpara and Mingma G., who are not just local climbers, HAPs, or Sherpas, but respected climbers.
Overall, I found the book more subtle in its conveying new information. For instance, this wasn't shedding light on ascents unseen or climbers completely unknown to knowledgeable readers, but this was the first survey course, so to speak, on the local climber's work, perspective, and how they also had their own ambitious. Many of those ambitions were easy to relate to: The well being of their family, financial success through a growing resume of expertise, and the sheer joy of being in nature and attempting to reach summits.
Alpine Rising is not a comprehensive history of local climbers, and McDonald acknowledges that. It is still full of helpful historical and contemporary contexts. For instance, understanding why Sherpas were eagerly looking for work when the early British explorations started, and how HAPs (High-Altitude Porters) came to be. In the end, they are increasingly climbers, whether they are working to pay for their mother's medical care, or aspiring to reach the summit for their country. (HAPs, I was interested to learn was first coined by Willi Unsoeld.)
My sole complaint about Alpine Rising was in McDonald's handling of Nims. McDonald recounts Nirmal "Nims" Purja's six month-attack on the 8,000ers well. He hadn't spent time working his way through the mass market climbing business, and he stepped in, seemingly out of nowhere, to climb all fourteen of the world's highest peaks in a unique style of a modern military assault with helicopters. Nims flew and climbed, and the world watched, as the fourteen mountains were ticked off. Except, today, in this environment of competitive-record climbing, Nims did not reach the actual or true summits of Manaslu and Dhaulagiri.
This may be nitpicking, but when I read this McDonald's take on it, she finishes the first account on this effectively stating the record was six months and six days. I knew that it had actually been two years, five months, and fifteen days. Yet most popular opinions orbit around a six-month record, when it wasn't true. I read through the book and never found a satisfying explanation, which I expected would be more blunt than it was. His six-month record is listed under "Purja, Nirmal" in the index, but the story of his return was not (it's actually on pages 202-203.) It was retold with the story of Mingma G., which makes logical sense since it was Mingma G.'s attention to detail about true summits, particularly Manaslu, but clarifying Nims' record under emphasized, in my opinion.
(This was relevant to Nims' story. It is also a relevant topic in Himalayan and Karakorum climbing today. The actual summits are now better understood, and the number of people taking shortcuts to say they reached the top have grown from either error, omission, or outright lying. This would need to be explained in greater detail in Alpine Rising to get the general reader up to speed, but it is an issue that speaks to the true challenge of Nims accomplishment. It is remarkable, but it wasn't six months and six days, and McDonald does not perpetuate the myth.)
Alpine Rising does not exhaustively break new ground, but as a book deemed as "significant" is fundamentally about what needed to be said. I expect to be referring to it from time to time as the perspectives on these events need to be remembered. McDonald's Alpine Rising tells a story of climbers that needed to be said.
And while I still like to think about Wiessner and Pasang Dawa Lama on K2 in 1939. If they were in the same position, Pasang would not have called Fritz "sahib." They would have had a different conversation, probably one of peers. Or perhaps, Pasang would have his own local team.
This review was updated on April 28, 2024, and first appeared on THE SUBURBAN MOUNTAINEER at SuburbanMountaineer.com
This is a very thorough history of local climbers in the Himalayas and Karakoram. I'm super on board with the mission of this book, and my 3-star rating is because it went for breadth over depth, packing in so much that sometimes it felt like a quick barrage of info about one person/story before moving on to another burst of detail about another person/story.
Some stories get more attention and depth, like the deadliest K2 season, Nimsdai (and his off-putting personality haha), Mingma G, and Ali Sadpara. Just last year I read a book about the K2 disaster, "Buried in the Sky", that focused on the experience from the local climbers' perspective. I couldn't help but reminisce about how engaging and immersive that book was compared to this -- with the narrative also emphasizing local (not foreign) climbers -- but, critically, that book covered a single incident in great detail rather than being a survey of over 100 years of stories... so of course it was more readable.
I'm glad local climbers are finally get respect, attention, and accolades for their much more impressive accomplishments.
(Side note: Personally, I think the commercialization of Everest is deeply damaging and it is unethical to climb the major peaks, particularly if you're a foreign climber who isn't actually capable of climbing independently. Everest is covered in literal garbage as a result of commercial climbing.)
Favorite parts: • Ang Tsering schafft es 1934 den Nanga Parbat hinab • Trauer vs. Leere • Die Stärke von Wiessners Team kommt von den Sherpas • Die Briten stellen nepalesische Priester als tanzende Lamas aus • Tenzings Jugendjahre im Khumbu Tal • Dawa Tenzings Tragödie • Ich habe den Everest bestiegen, damit du es nicht musst • Pete Schoening wirft sich auf den Pickel • Ein wirklicher Mensch ist jener, der seinen Besitz verwendet, um Bedürftigen zu helfen • Um fit zu bleiben verdiene ich mein Geld im Steinbruch • Alex will am Nanga Parbat vor allem seine Lieblingssocken trocknen • Ali, Alex und Simone auf dem Gipfel • Lu Chung-Han fürchtet sich vor Lawinen unterhalb von Lager 3. Daher fliegt er zur Erholung nach Kathmandu, lässt sich seinen leichten Erfrierungen behandeln, und dann per Heli-shuttle weiter zu seinem nächsten Achttausender. • 14/7 klingt cool. Alles muss cool sein. • Rettungsversuch am Annapurna • Von der Party ins Basislager und im Sturm auf den Gipfel. • Nimsdai kriecht im Sturm auf den Shishapangma • Shaka statt Demut und Respekt • Auch Nimsdai hat grosszügige Momente • 13-jährige Dawa trägt 30 kg Last über den Tashi Labsta Pass, um ein Flugticket nach Kathmandu zu kaufen
This is actually a very interesting book, but the longer I read it, the more exhausting it became for me. I liked that it is very thorough and largely based on historical facts, but at times this level of detail was overwhelming—by the halfway point, I was already wishing it would end. I appreciate the idea behind it and understand what the author wanted to convey, but I felt the overall format lost some of its meaning. There is a huge amount of information here, sometimes even too much—because there are so many foreign-sounding names and terms, I often found myself losing the reading flow. I also missed connecting sentences and a more conversational style. For example, when telling the story of a particular character, there’s no need to repeat their full name several times in one paragraph—using pronouns would have made the text much smoother. Because of this, the book required my full concentration, even though the stories themselves weren’t that demanding—which ultimately made it quite tiring. Additionally, I missed a summary and an explanation of why the author chose these particular figures. In the end, this book just didn’t fully resonate with me.
I was going to read this book no matter what, because the author and her publisher are generously directing part of the book sales proceeds to my nonprofit organization. But it was absolutely fascinating and kept me going from story to story. Some of the characters are friends and acquaintances, whose stories deserve such a respectful and honest telling. McDonald rightly calls out the arrogance and almost absurd self-centeredness that has traditionally been a part of Western climbing in Nepal, Pakistan and beyond, as if the locals who enable expeditions are not even people with names. But she also pays tribute to the toughness and grit displayed by all the climbers, Western and Asian, whatever their human failings might be, and includes many details of personal heroism and teamwork as well. In sum, it's a timely and important book about the evolution of climbing in the Himalaya and the Karakoram, focused on the relationship between the people who live amongst those mountains and the people who come to climb them. Highly recommend!
For those readers who have devoured books about mountaineers and mountaineering, but have wanted to know more about the incredible local climbers on the world's highest peaks, this one is for you. It's an overview of the history of the climbers who are often lumped together as "Sherpas" (although there are many other local ethnic groups who also climb).
There are memoirs from some of these climbers, which I also intend to read, but McDonald (aided by a strong interviewing team who conducted interviews where she had a language barrier) has created a wonderful and absorbing overview. I would read this first to get a sense for the history, and then go to the memoirs from there.
The section focusing on Nims does feel incomplete now that the serious allegations from multiple female climbers have emerged. If this book had come out a year later, I imagine this would have been included.
For a relatively short book, this packed a lot of information about climbers that rarely see the credit for their work. I appreciated the focus on women climbers as well as bringing the information into the present day. We see how local climbers shaped expeditions to these mountains from the very beginning. I enjoyed the chance to learn more about this topic as someone who has read mountaineering books before, but not from this perspective. I believe the final copy will have photos, which was a part i felt lacking in this ARC copy. Definitely interested to see the final work and like that proceeds are going to support NGOs in Nepal and Pakistan. Thank you to the publisher for the ARC copy.
In this book, McDonald paves the way for a westener audience to pay attencion to the high altitude achivements by the Sherpa and Balti communities. I recommend this book to an audience that is facinated by the meaning of the mountains since the achievements by these communities in the world of mountaniering must be acknowledge and celebrated.
Very informative. It's about time the sherpas and local climbers get their due! Such resilient people who also deserve recognition and their stories told about their monumental climbs.
No doubt much work went into the finding out and telling of these stories. The stories are told in a captivating way and raise such an important awareness of these cultures and lives.
📖 Cały świat przyglądał się jak w 2021 roku dziesięciu Nepalczyków weszło zimą na K2 i stało się ulubieńcami mediów społecznościowych. Niewiele osób wie jak w lipcu 1954 roku Amir Mehdi, drobny tragarz pakistański, wniósł 40-kilogramowe butle z tlenem do najwyższego obozu na 8100 m. Dzięki temu Comagnoni i Lacedelli dokonali pierwszego wejścia na K2, ale kosztem wszystkich palców u nóg i jednej trzeciej jednej ze stóp Mehdiego. „Mehdi był już wtedy na granicy szaleństwa. Poruszał się nerwowo, kopiąc wściekle śnieg, i krzyczał z bólu. Jego palce u nóg, wciśnięte w o dwa numery za małe włoskie buty wojskowe, zaczynały się odmrażać.” W konsekwencji Amir Mehdi nie był w stanie wspinać się i zarabiać na utrzymanie rodziny. „Pokonany, cierpiący i zapomniany zmarł w 1999 roku.” 📖 Wyjście z cienia to książka o wspinaczach, których imion nie znamy. O tragarzach, którzy są fundamentem wszystkich wypraw wysokogórskich od samego początku eksploracji tych terenów. O partnerach górskich, ludziach niewidzialnych, którzy walczą o trudną drogę, doskonale orientują się w terenie i pomagają himalaistom. Bazuje na wspomnieniach Szerpów, Hunzów, Astorów, Baltów i Magarów. Książka o kolonializmie, nierównych szansach. O tym jak Nepalscy wspinacze żyjący w ubóstwie obserwowali, jak zachodni wspinacze wydają masę pieniędzy, podróżują, wspinają się, zdobywają sponsorów i stają się sławni. Ale też jest to książka o wzajemnym górskim szacunku, o docenianiu pomocy. Świadomość się zmienia, żyjemy w czasach, gdzie powoli oddaje się sprawiedliwość krzywdzonym autochtonom a „Wspinacze z Nepalu i Pakistanu zasługują na cały szacunek, którym są wreszcie obdarzani. Szacunek warto świętować.” 📖 Uwielbiam reportaże za to, że autorzy poświęcają tygodnie, miesiące, nawet lata, żeby w pigułce przekazać kwintesencję tego, co najważniejsze. Mozolnie dochodzą do faktów, które pomagają mi być mniejszym ignorantem, bardziej rozumieć i szanować. Autorka zastrzega, że jest to książka o wybranych postaciach i przejściach, w niewielkim stopniu wyczerpująca temat. Wiele osób pomija i ma nadzieje, że znajdą się inni, którzy o nich napiszą. Ja też, bo wtedy z chęcią to przeczytam 😉Warto, bardzo polecam 🖤 Paul Bauer: „Ci wspaniali Bhutiowe [Tybetańczycy] i Szerpowie (...) szli za nami z wielkim poświęceniem w najgorsze miejsca, pełni ufności i entuzjazmu, których nie sposób wymiernie nagrodzić, bez nadziei na zapłatę, ale z powodów czysto etycznych, ze szlachetnego naturalnego odruchu” Phurba Tashi Sherpa: „Wiele osób mówi mi, że powinienem jeszcze raz pobić rekord, ale jest to dla mnie bez znaczenia (…) Od czasu trzęsienia ziemi, kiedy myślę o swojej karierze, największym rozczarowaniem dla mnie jest to, że wciąż muszę się martwić o swoją przyszłość” No nie, Panie Bauer. Robili to, żeby przetrwać.