Steph Davis
I first met Kurt Albert and Bernd Arnold five years ago, at the end of my first season in Patagonia. I had heard a lot about the two Germans and their climbing achievements, freeclimbing new routes at impressively high levels around the world, on everything from boulders, to scary traditional rock routes, to giant granite peaks at high altitude.
Their first ascents of free routes here in this notoriously stormy region remain some of the most visionary efforts in a place where most people are happy to get up and off of the easiest routes on the mountains.
There is always a time during the Patagonia season when Base Camp becomes a grim and dreary place; when it's been raining and snowing for days and weeks; when no one has climbed anything for longer than anyone can remember. But even after eight seasons in Patagonia, Kurt and Bernd always maintain an even keel and a happy outlook here.
Bernd, slim and short, is an almost stereotypical East German. He wears classic round wire-rimmed "Dieter" glasses and an enigmatic smile, and calmly gestures with his pipe as he speaks an oddly comprehensible mix of German and English. Kurt, a West German, is tall and jovial. He laughs happily as he strolls around Base Camp joking with everyone, sociably fluent in every possible language. You can just picture him at home merrily waving a giant beer mug back and forth at St. Pauli girls as he sings some German drinking song.
Even for those who have no interest in extreme freeclimbing in the big mountains, Kurt and Bernd's ideas about the meaning of climbing give some fascinating food for thought about the differences between being born on either side of the Iron Curtain in the mid-20th century.
Bernd, born behind the wall, talks about climbing as freedom and the pursuit of an aesthetic ideal. Kurt, a West German, sees climbing as one of many means to live adventure, and as a way to discover a personal code.
Invariably, Kurt and Bernd climb on the east side of the Fitz Roy range, from the Rio Blanco Base Camp (they'd never even set foot in Campo Bridwell on the west side until they hiked over to visit one day last season). They arrive with plastic expedition barrels and plenty of beer and wine, and set to work hiking up to Paso Superior with big loads of fixed rope and a drill.
They are after new free routes, as well as summits, and believe in equipping the climbs to be repeated quickly and safely. Two bolts at every belay, and even bolts next to cracks if a pitch would demand more than a double set of Camalots. This practice has generated some criticism from the hardcore "traditionalists" in Patagonia, criticism that mostly surprises Kurt and Bernd, and even hurts their feelings a little.
They sincerely believe in the camaraderie of climbers, especially climbers in wild, hostile environments, and their own climbing roots are more than traditional and bold. Bernd is legendary for having established one of the first 7a rock routes in the world way back in the '60s, climbing at his home area in Eastern Germany barefoot with no chalk or harness, and almost no protection.
The two believe in climbing as much and as hard as possible and earnestly want others to repeat and enjoy their free routes, hence the bolts. When the weather is too bad to climb on the peaks, they round up a posse of soggy climbers from camp, and head off to Piedras Blancas, a field of white granite boulders about 20 minutes away from Rio Blanco Base Camp.
The energy of these two is all the more impressive when you discover that, combined, they are 100 years old, as Kurt told me. Every year Bernd says it's his last season in Patagonia, and every year I see him again in Rio Blanco, ready to hike a load up to Paso Superior.
SD: What have you and Bernd done here together?
KA: We have placed a lot of bolts, using fixed ropes which is actually not necessary [laughs]. Four first ascents. In Paine we have done a new route, Riders on the Storm, with Wolfgang Güllich and two other Germans.
Then we went to Fitz Roy. There we tried, in 1993, El Corazon, we even tried it in alpine style, no fixing ropes [laughs more]. But we got in trouble with the weather and we had to retreat from the icefield, and we had only two weeks' time. We tried the Franco-Argentine, and then we left.
And we saw this line, Royal Flush, when we did El Corazon. One year later we returned to climb Royal Flush [a new 5.12 free route on the massive east face of Fitz Roy, joining El Corazon to the summit]. And Bernd had an accident that year, too, so we couldn't summit after the difficult climbing, although it was very good weather, perfect weather for a week. He broke his knee. And then there was one year rest, no Patagonia.
Two years later we came back and tried Royal Flush again, but we did only seven pitches because it was very, very bad weather. And then we returned every year. Next year we did a new route on Saint Exupery [Condorito—the name of a South American cartoon condor] and next year we climbed the Red Pillar on Mermoz [a new route climbed almost to the summit, but unfinished by the Americans Kennan Harvey and Topher Donahue in 1992] and the next year, last year, we did the Franco-Argentine to finally summit Fitz Roy, relieving the prison of Fitz Roy.
SD: How many times have you been to Paso Superior?
KA: I guess about 90 times. Maybe I have the record even, Bernd and I. I can't think of people who went more than us. Once I counted the footsteps just because I was bored. I think it's from the lake to the top of the pass, four thousand, eight hundred something.
SD: How long have you and Bernd been climbing together?
KA: I've known Bernd a long time because when I was young—a long time ago [laughs], I went to East Germany to climb and there he was famous, very famous, for the routes he did. I only knew his routes for 15 years, and he heard of my difficult routes in West Germany, when not many people climbed difficult things there. We went to Great Trango Tower in 1988, that's the first time we climbed. Since then, in the last 13 years, we have climbed in Mali, Venezuela, Madagascar, and Patagonia.
SD: How did you know you would get along on a major expedition to the Himalaya without ever having climbed together?
KA: I didn't know it before—it was a big expedition with 10 members from the German Alpine Club. So I was invited, Bernd was invited, Wolfgang Güllich and many others as well. We tried the Norwegian route, the northeast pillar of Great Trango Tower. We made our way up to the headwall and then we got in a storm. We had to retreat and then the climb was filled with ice, so we went to Nameless Tower to climb the Yugoslavian route.
We saw this line to the left [a new route, Eternal Flame, which they attempted as an all-free first ascent, a committing style not usually attempted in the Himalaya]. So we returned immediately, one year later, 1989. We did Eternal Flame.
But Bernd was not there. He had to stay back home because actually in 1988 he escaped from East Germany to go to Great Trango Tower. He got permission for two weeks to visit somebody in West Germany but he didn't go back. He went on the expedition with us! Half a year later he went back because he had an accident on the expedition, he nearly died. He fell in a crevasse at the Trangos and he had to stay in the hospital in West Germany.
I think he got a little trouble. But in '89, there was a big deal with East Germany, and they came together.
SD: Why do you and Bernd always climb here together?
KA: Because we are doomed to go to Patagonia! It's hard to find a partner for Patagonia, so there's not a big choice [laughs]. I think we are a good team. I understand Bernd. We have known each other a long time and we can deal pretty good. It's not a torture for me to be together with Bernd in bad weather. We have the same goals.
SD: What keeps drawing you back to Patagonia?
KA: In one way I hate it, in one way I like it, my feelings are mixed. But I like it more than I hate it, so I return. And then, it's very intense when you do something. We know people now in Chaltén, and meet many interesting people in the camp, that's a good aspect. And the mountains are so beautiful.... Patagonia without little rewards would not be so good. When you finally are on the summit on a nice day—sometimes you have to be up there on a nice day and enjoy the climbing.
SD: Are you discouraged by the terrible weather here this year?>
KA: I am not so much motivated this year than I used to be. But I don't feel negative. It's the way, sometimes you are not so motivated. If you sit in the rain, it's not nice, it adds up. The things we wanted to do would be a big effort now if the weather gets good now, to do this combination of Royal Flush and El Corazon, and a lot of time has passed already so I would rather prefer to go [laughs].
It depends. I think we go up one more time and if we can't do anything, we will take our stuff down. It adds up. Bernd has been here six weeks in the same place and hasn't done anything. But it can change very quickly with Bernd, you never know. When he sees the summits and the sun, with that sarcastic grin of Fitz Roy, that inviting grin, it can change in one hour.
SD: What about this bolting issue that came up after you climbed the Red Pillar route and equipped it with bolts?
KA: For sure in Yosemite I wouldn't place bolts in cracks, it is not the history, but here I don't have problems with this. And we don't create bolt ladders, so somehow you adapt for the climbing area, you have to have a feeling. Like in the gritstone, I think it's good they don't use bolts there in England. It's a wonderful place. You have to respect this. Also Yosemite, it has special ethics which have grown from the history.
In Patagonia, I develop my own style; bring all your stuff back that you bring to the mountain, of course. When I do a route, a first ascent, I always try to find free lines. Then I leave everything I placed with a hammer in the rock [for the next freeclimbers]. If I place a bad piton, we change it normally to a bolt afterwards. I think I like sometimes bolts even if you don't "need" them. You don't have to bring so much equipment. So, but maybe this is not so interesting.
SD: Why do you think people criticize each other's styles?
KA: Hmmm. Maybe to put themselves higher, on the way to put other people down. My answer is if you can still do it [the Red Pillar route] without the "unnecessary" bolts, then you can say you are a much better climber [laughs]. Not so important, I think. But I have to say that everybody who has repeated the routes we have done has liked it.
SD: So you prefer new routes?
KA: Normally, yes. But I still like to repeat. I also like to climb fast. Less material, and because it's always a big effort to make new routes here, fixed ropes and stuff. For me, climbing is like a vehicle to come to different cultures, travel around the world, it's always connected. You open your mind not only thinking of little rocks in your home area.
For example, Antarctica was a great trip. The most time we spent on a sailing boat. It took us one week to cross the Drake Passage, and then we went around one week more in the Antarctic, we climbed one week and then went sailing back one more week.
I learned a lot of respect for sailing trips, like what the people have done a hundred years ago when they went to Antarctica. Must be incredible what they have done on these adventures, people like Shackleton. Really to know the place perfectly, the landscape and everything, to live in the boat. And then we did these other trips with kayaks to climb new routes, Baffin and Greenland. I like these kind of trips because you don't stay in one place like here, six weeks in Rio Blanco Base Camp. You move on every day, you see new things.
SD: How did you start climbing?
KA: I had to go to church when I was very young. There was a little club of young people and a little priest who climbed, and he took us climbing. I was 14. First we climbed in the Frankenjura, where I live, and we went also to the Alps. I was addicted from the beginning.
From this point I went every weekend. I climbed as much when I was young as I do now! I didn't go on expeditions, but I climbed a lot, especially when I was at school. This was the reason I studied for 10 years, because I went climbing always. I think I climb less now than I used to climb! I studied mathematics and physics. I was a teacher for three years, high school. It was interesting, I liked it—challenging, because it's hard to motivate the kids for mathematics. I stopped teaching to go on expeditions. Okay, first it was a long trip to Yosemite! But the next year, 1988, I went to Great Trango Tower.
SD: And how old are you now?
KA: I was born in Nuremberg a long time ago.... Together Bernd and I are 100 years old now.... Alright, I am 47.
SD:How long can you keep this pace of constant expeditions and adventures and being a professional climber?
KA: "I think as long as you are healthy you can keep it up. You can also do interesting expeditions when you are old. You need not be the best climber to do interesting things.
SD: No plans for afterwards?
KA: After? After what? In my next life?
Bernd Arnold (translations and two cents by Kurt Albert)
SD: When did you start climbing?
BA: 1959, when I was 5 years old. I started in the Elbesandstein area of East Germany. Five minutes from my father's house there were the rocks. They started climbing there more than one hundred years ago, and there is a long tradition. So there were already many climbs and there was already very hard stuff.
I grew up in the rocks, saw the rocks, touched them, started climbing. I thought when I was young that this was the sport I wanted to do. I wanted to express myself. At school there was boxing also, and the other people beat me, but I was a better climber than the others, so because I didn't like boxing I started climbing.
SD: How did you move into expeditions?
BA: I wanted to travel and see big mountains and climb. For a long time, I couldn't go because I lived in East Germany, was imprisoned. So we always traveled to the east, Czechoslovakia, Romania, Bulgaria, Poland, Russia. And the biggest journey was North Korea. The first real expedition was Great Trango Tower, 1988.
SD: Have your goals changed through all your years of climbing?
BA: Yes. In the beginning I was a conqueror and now I climb more consciously.
And the aesthetic is very important—nice movement, aesthetic lines. I think more of the art of climbing now. The moving is more important, not only to conquer the summit or the wall, the style. How you do the climb, and the things you use. The best style to me is freeclimbing, in an aesthetic form. But I like first ascents the most, because I like to be the first climbing without any traces of anybody else before.
SD: What brings you back to Patagonia year after year?
BA: The Fitz Roy. Fitz Roy for me is the most beautiful mountain in the world that I have seen so far.
KA: And Royal Flush, of course, the nicest climb [laughs]. But you have to think like this because otherwise you don't get the motivation to do all this fighting and carrying and rappelling and going up and down if you're not convinced of your goal. And when we climbed it, we were totally convinced, all four climbers.
BA: Here it is also an aspect of conquering something. Here I find the real adventure in contrast to the other form of climbing I do all the year. Only one or the other is not enough, not complete. Here it's a mixture of everything. I think the new generation, where I live in the cities, they start the climbing in the gyms and have a completely different attitude toward climbing, only the hard moves. They don't see the whole space of climbing, they just see the hard routes, the grade.
I like in Patagonia to sit down and look at the big mountains and realize how small the people are. The power of nature. There is a special freedom in Patagonia which I don't have anywhere else, because I have to work all the year round and then I look forward to going to Patagonia. But now I am a prisoner of the weather!
Everything is a contradiction in Patagonia!
SD: What does the wind mean to you?
BA: It's too strong.
KA: Breaks legs...and minds, sometimes.
SD: But what would Patagonia be without the wind?
KA: Yosemite! Or like Chamonix, maybe. I think without the bad weather there would be much more climbers, more routes.
BA: Patagonia without the wind would not be Patagonia.
SD: How many more years will you come to Patagonia?
BA: Boo [laughs]. I would like to come with my daughter, she is 23.
KA: And his wife and his grandmother and everybody!
BA: No, no, only my daughter and wife. Heike is connected with climbing since she was born because we took her out always to the rocks, but she is busy in the university now and mostly boulders. My wife Kristina is managing our sport shop in Germany while I am here.
SD: Why do you say you have more freedom here, when the weather makes you a prisoner?
BA: In Elbesandstein [Bernd's home area], the rules are very complicated. The rules come from above, there are many climbing areas where you aren't allowed to climb. We only climb on towers, rock where you can hike to the top is forbidden.
This comes from the tradition from the old times when the climbers wanted to distinguish themselves from the hikers, to reach spots and summits where the hikers cannot go. They built up a climbing club, from the year 1910, and they made the rules. Now it's law. It's a national park.
You can't use chalk. You can't use cams and stoppers, no metal, and the bolts are rings and they have to have a certain distance. And if you're doing a first ascent and the distance is not okay, they will pull the bolts. And first ascents only from ground up. But it's allowed to rest on the rings, on the protection.
SD: That's a lot of rules!
BA: It's too much. And it blocks the development of the climbing as well in this area. Everybody should find his own rules and his own ethic in climbing, and the general rules shouldn't limit people from finding their own style.
SD: Do you think there should be no rules in climbing?
BA: Yes, I think so, but some basic rules, natural rules which don't have to be invented. That's the nice thing about climbing if you compare it with other sports. Respect nature, for example, and respect what other people have done. You have to climb the route and you have to be honest how you have climbed it. And that's everything.
SD: What makes you the happiest?
BA: Third-classing, solo climbing without a rope. When I have everything under control. Soloing hard routes is relative, in control. This makes me very happy also.
SD: Will you ever stop climbing?
BA: The whole life long you can climb on your own border, on your own limits, you can be satisfied all the time. I never want to stop climbing. I can't imagine to stop climbing because it lives in my brain somehow. It exists and it makes me happy.
—
Steph Davis, MountainZone.com Correspondent
