One of the most striking quotes for me was: "Alex once told me that he had never fallen completely unexpectedly—meaning without at least some prior inclination that it could happen. When I told him that I had unexpectedly fallen at least ten times, he looked confused, like somehow that didn’t compute."
It really illustrates what a professional Alex is and how in-tune he is with his skills and his craft.
I take the same thing from that quote. I have a good friend who has become one of the top competition paraglider pilots in the world. A lot of paragliders see him as doing terrifying, reckless things. He's told me that he considers himself a conservative pilot, and that he doesn't take risks. I agree with his self-assessment. I've known him a long time, and saw him ascend through a long, well-ordered series of incremental challenges.
Luck only lasts so long. You don't last long at sports like this if you aren't cautious and well-trained, that's for sure.
I'll offer a counter anecdote to yours: I was talking to a guy this weekend who had been a serious hang-glider for over a decade when he was younger. Every time a friend would have a problem, he analyzed it and saw that because of the way he operated he wouldn't make the same mistake and could therefore rationalize his continued participation in the sport. Eventually though, he had a problem, he made a mistake, it scared him, but it took fully two years of continuing to fly before he finally worked through it and decided that he could never eliminate enough risk and quit flying.
EDIT: I may have mischaracterized his response and removed "error-free" language and clarified with "eliminate enough risk".
So, both of the replies to my comment seem like they assume there's a need for a strong assurance that "it won't happen to me." I know hundreds of para/hang pilots, and I think the majority of them don't think about it that way. We already made a fundamental decision to risk life and limb to fly.
We engage in that kind of analysis continually, and collectively. Our conversations are like 80% post-mortem, all the time. Somebody gets hurt, the whole community analyses it in minute detail, the pilot writes it up, we watch video of the incidents. We check in with ourselves about whether we would make the mistake, whether we have the knowledge/skill/pre-flight routine to avoid it. Contrary to the other commenter, constant self- and peer- assessment is extremely useful. It's just that the goal isn't to assure ourselves that we won't get hurt. The goal is simply to improve our odds. That's all.
Most of us know multiple pilots who died unexpectedly, sometimes very good pilots in benign conditions. I'd guess every one of us knows someone who broke their back. We're very conscious of the risks, people who think their skill puts them above it are in the minority. We only talk about odds, and increasing our time between incidents. Those few of us who have been unscathed know that we're due. It's worth it. I've seen a paraplegic come back and fly again.
EDIT: Yes, "eliminate enough risk" sounds much more like para-talk to me. My instructor always harped on about high-percentage vs low-percentage decisions. He was downright gleeful about responding to ubiquitous "Is flying safe?" questions by popping catastrophe reels into the DVD player.
We had two high-profile paragliding deaths over the past year in my area. One, a seasoned pro who'd flown (and instructed) here for decades apparently took a risky line (if you don't have enough altitude or updrafts to make it over a saddle, there's nowhere to go) and didn't make it. She knew the area well and knew the issues but something went wrong - what specifically happened is unknown of course, maybe canopy collapse. The second was a father who took his daughter up, failed to clip himself in correctly somehow, got disconnected, and fell 1000 feet. His daughter didn't know how to fly but survived her subsequent crash landing.
* I'm not a paraglider, so apologies if the terminology is off.
Austria, Switzerland and Germany have a very long rock climbing history (unsurprisingly), and their respective climbing associations are obsessed about safety.
> ... he wouldn't make the same mistake and could therefore rationalize his continued participation in the sport.
In the early chapters of the book The Right Stuff, Tom Wolfe says that this was the normal attitude among test pilots about their brethren who crashed and died. "How could anybody fail to check his hose connections? And how could anybody be in such poor condition as to pass out that quickly from hypoxia? ... One theorem was: There are no accidents and no fatal flaws in the machines; there are only pilots with the Wrong Stuff. (I.e., blind Fate can't kill me.)"
I've never heard anyone describe themselves as a reckless or unsafe driver. I'm sure majority of people before accidents say they're conservative drivers.
Maybe he's right, but... self-assessments of skills are rarely useful. Survival bias and all that.
A combat fighter pilot once told me that 90% of pilots were fearful they were not good enough, and covered it up with bravado and drinking. The other 10% knew they were good enough.
Having never tried rock climbing, I'm curious what the potential causes of catastrophic events would be on this kind of a climb (that would necessitate safety gear for most climbers in the first place)...pieces of rock that give out under a hand/foot, appendage slipping out of place, etc.?
I am a mediocre climber (after about 5.10c, I start thinking, "Greg, this is fucking insane."), but I used to be quite heavily involved with the Alpine Club of Canada and have read many incident reports about climbing deaths. One thing sticks out as being common enough to warrant mention. It is insane how often deaths happen when highly experienced climbers get out of their routine and make tiny little mistakes. When you are working on a difficult enough problem, a tiny mistake is most often fatal (unless you are using ropes).
With climbs like El Cap, a tiny mistake could be something as simple as letting momentum carry you a few degrees too far, losing your focus for an instant, or even losing strength. Climbing is a cross between chess, long distance running and gymnastics and to free solo something like El Cap, you need to be world class at all of those...simultaneously.
Several years ago, when I had a total of three hours of climbing experience (one hour in a classroom and two hours on an indoor wall), I made a mistake ice climbing that could have been fatal if I had not been properly roped in. I was incredibly inexperienced, got incredibly scared and started gripping onto my tools for dear life. I was so scared that I put all of my strength into my grip. My forearms spasmed and I lost my grip. I was an ugly climber, so my belay partner had given me a little too much slack, so I fell about six or seven feet, thus leaving a very experienced climber's very expensive tools in an ice wall several feet above me. Rather than get lowered and try to recover his tools the proper way, I decided to use crampons and my gloved hands to climb the ice like I would climb a rock. It was an incredibly sunny day, so the waterfall was a little wet and that was likely the most miserable seven feet that I have ever climbed.
In retrospect, it's a funny story about a noob getting scared and I had to buy several rounds of beer when we got back to civilization. But, that's an example of losing focus and doing something incredibly foolish that could have had tragic consequences.
I've run into plenty of snakes and had a bee land on my hand while reaching for a hold. I've had rocks break off beneath my feet. My arms have gotten tired and my feet have slipped unexpectedly. Heck, I've tripped just going down a flight of stairs. That's why I always use a rope. As a climber, I'm in awe of this feat but seriously hope he's the last person to do it.
Despite what others have said, there is still loose rock on El Capitan. That is always a concern.
The particular route Honnold climbed (Freerider) is hardly "cutting edge" (at 5.13-, it is roughly eight or nine grade levels below the absolute hardest rock climbs in the world), but the most difficult section (the "crux" in climbing jargon) is notoriously insecure, meaning that even skilled climbers find the movement difficult. Honnold himself spent time on the route on a rope learning this sequence (and others).
For us mortals, it is far more likely that you simply lose your balance, strength, or concentration. A typical multi-pitch climb is hard work and the odds of missing a move are pretty high.
Granted, I'm a mediocre climber (can lead 10c/d), but falling every once and a while is pretty common for most of us.
If you're a skilled climber, the most common reasons for falling are likely: fatigue, improper execution of a move, improper foot or hand placement, improper sequence of moves, random shit.
Like you said, it's not uncommon for people's feet to slip out from under them. A big part of climbing is the friction your shoes have against the rock, but move around, reach for something, and angle of your foot against the rock changes, along with the friction, and zoosh: your foot slides off.
The rock can break off ("chossy" climbs, Pinnacles is notorious for this), but that's a less common occurrence than Hollywood would lead one to believe.
>The rock can break off ("chossy" climbs, Pinnacles is notorious for this)
A doctor from our local hospital died from, as far as we can tell, exactly this while climbing Discovery Wall. He was an excellent climber, and was using appropriate gear. He just was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and his safety equipment wasn't enough.
El Capitan is granite, and perhaps even more importantly, it's very heavily climbed so for the most part anything that can break will have already been broken off by someone else.
I don't agree with that. In fact, I wear a helmet whenever I am near a wall because I have seen way too many formerly solid looking rocks fall, even on granite.
Heck, a few years ago, a 2000 ton slab of rock fell off of Half Dome, which is a famous granite dome in Yosemite. I can't find the article now (of course), but I read a great article about how rock expands and contracts with the heat of the sun, water gets into cracks and plates will break off.
This article is okay, though it isn't the one that I'm thinking of. If I can the correct article, I'll edit this answer.
You're missing a very important distinction though: for a solo climber the main thing out of their control that's different from normal rock climbing is holds breaking unexpectedly. For that risk, having lots of people climbing the rock helps increase the chances that such unexpectedly weak holds will have been broken already by someone else; obviously loose rock isn't so much of an issue, for the simple reason that you know it's loose and can climb appropriately.
Rock fall meanwhile is dangerous to all climbers, whether or not they're using ropes. Sure, it's more dangerous to a solo climber - you might get lucky and just get knocked out, something a rope can save you from - but we're talking about a moderate risk vs. high risk comparison, not zero-risk to high risk. That 2000 ton slab you gave isn't a very good example, because something that big has a pretty good chance of killing you rope or not.
FWIW, I do a lot of cave exploration, and in caves the "already broken off" effect is a very powerful one. Virgin passage that's never been explored before can be a very scary place to be because everything can be loose and ready to fall. This is particularly true in areas that undergo freeze-thaw cycles, such as upper parts of alpine caves - I've been in places where every single bit of rock, including the ceiling, is heavily fractured due to frost. Breakdown piles are also a big problem - they're huge piles of rocks and boulders, generally due to ceilings gradually collapsing, and you have to be really careful around ones that haven't been visited frequently because pretty much anything you stand on could be unstable. Lots of cavers have been trapped in breakdown piles that shifted unexpectedly.
The underlying cause of this problem in caves is simple: caves can be very static environments with no weather, increasing the chances that the force you exert on a rock will be the largest force it has ever experienced in that position.
For example, I've personally done quite a bit of what's actually free soloing in cave exploration, but that style of climbing is done in confined spaces with rock on every side. You're much less dependent on individual holds as you'll usually be supporting yourself by pushing against the rock with your whole body, so it's a lot safer than most free soloing - even if you do fall you have a good chance of self arresting by, and if you can't you can at least slow your fall significantly and just slide to the bottom.
In the Outside article up thread, Tommy Caldwell who free climbed the route with Alex a couple weeks ago mentions loose rock as scaring him: "I went to Yosemite last week over the Memorial Day holiday and we did a practice lap on the Freerider with a rope. High on the wall, panting and sweating, feet smearing on crispy flakes that made crunching noises as I stepped on them."
I was highlighting the sudden surprises that tend to catch a climber off-guard. If someone is climbing on wet sandstone, they should already be cognisant that it may crumble. (They should also avoid climbing it when wet so that they don't break holds, but that's another topic on stewardship.)
when you climb high grades the rock becomes extremely difficult to navigate and 'grip'. The common example is stacking 2-3 credit cards on top of each other and looking at the edge from the top - thats the size of the rock people are holding onto and stepping on with all their weight. In some cases you won't even have a flat piece of rock to step on, imagine climbing a brick wall. Asides from the difficulty, there are obvious elements such as high winds when you're at that altitude, mist, rain, wildlife, etc.
Alex may be the standout that never makes a mistake. But a notable free soloist dies while climbing about once a year. And I'm sure they all claim to know their limits and understand their abilities as well.
This quote is telling. After listening to a lecture given by someone who is a master of their craft (even if I watch online), I can feel a sense of clarity whenever I'm doing the task they talk about. A master of his/her craft knows the craft so deeply that it's as easy as breathing. This is how climbing must be for Alex... though, sometimes everyone skips a breath. I guess his atypical Amygdala helps him get over that.
It really illustrates what a professional Alex is and how in-tune he is with his skills and his craft.