Death, Risk and Climbing Alasdair Buchanan

Mountains have always been part of my life, my family's main focus on holiday and climbing a personal passion since I was able to adventure under my own steam. Up until this year the risks associated with these high, wild places have always been abstract or at worst once removed. My brothers, best friend's two uncles and a cousin, members of my Mum's Ptarmigan walking club going through a cornice, friends of my dad's falling and dying on Ben Nevis in poor conditions.

This year it's been my friends. First I heard about two climbers I admired enormously in Canada, lost on the North face of the Devils thumb. Then in September Caroline's death came like the proverbial bolt out of the blue. Other people are writing about Caroline in this journal and will do it far better than I can but I miss her calmness and serenity so much.

Guy Edwards and John Millar were fast becoming one of the most respected alpine climbing teams in North America. They were both wild free spirits. I first met Guy at a Halloween party, I arrived late to meet him in the street dressed as a Tibetan spinning monk leading an impromptu moon worship. Among dozens of first ascents around the Vancouver area his most legendary climbing capers were the speed record for the Squamish Grand Wall in 1hr 45 min and a 12 minute ascent of pigeon spire in the Bugaboos, naked. Guy always maintained that his favourite route of all was a massive red cedar in the coastal rainforest of North Vancouver. It was there that the Vancouver climbing community came to pay its respects in a memorial service for John and Guy.

John Millar was very different. I only met him a couple of times as he was usually of climbing somewhere more exciting. He was a big, quiet almost bearlike presence. Very private he was totally secure in his own choice and direction in life and an encouragement to other people in theirs. Everyone's climbing was respected by both Guy and John. When one of his friends planned to second his girlfriends lead wearing approach shoes John asked him to take it seriously rather than belittle her efforts and put on rock shoes. His friends considered him the most considerate man they had ever met.

Their exploits as a team were extraordinary, with Leena Rowat and two others they made the first ski traverse of the entire Coast Range of western Canada. An 8 month, 2015km ski odyssey from near Vancouver to Skagway, a town at the top of the Alaskan panhandle. In the summer of 2002 they travelled to the Garwal Himalaya and climbed the West Face of something or other. Their route was described by the authors of High Info as the most significant climb in that area for at least ten years.

The Devils thumb is a Patagonia-esque lump of granite close to the Arctic Circle. John Krakauer made it famous as the opening story in his collection -Eiger dreams. The face attempted by Guy and John had never been seriously attempted and it was their third trip to the area. The first time they summited a satellite peak in telemark boots. On their second visit the weather was too awful to seriously contemplate anything. The final time they went in as a three with Guy's long time climbing partner Kai. He decided it was too dangerous with overhanging seracs on the steep approach. John and Guy left with four days food, planning to cross the danger zone at dead of night and were never seen again.
It was weird for me discovering a friend's death sitting at my computer in the bowels of Glasgow Caledonian. They weren't special people beyond an intensely close community of adventurous West Coast climbers, but they were the two most talented alpinists I had ever met and they died doing exactly what I want to do but rarely have the courage for. Fortunately there was no shocking discovery for their parents who knew exactly what they were up to. Climbing was both their lives. Both had degrees from UBC. Guy had one proper job in the two years I knew him and was just starting to get the sort of recognition that his sheer ability deserved. John was much quieter, climbed for adventure and refused to record his climbs. His renown was sufficient however for a WI 6 freestanding pillar in Lilooet to be named Millar's pillar.

Not sure how to conclude this piece apart from with special memories of Guy and John. The VOC banquet and Guy asking whether I was around in the summer as 'we need some good climbers for the alpine season', a compliment that meant an enormous amount to me. Climbing with John, Matt and Jacqui on a sunny, cold day in Squamish. I onsighted my first ever 10c, John was going to lead me up something when a frightened shout brought us running to a shaken Matt sitting at Jacqui's feet after giving them both a fright. Falling, flipping upside down and ripping gear from a bouldery 5.11. Maybe a good job Matt wasn't wearing a helmet as he swept the ground with his hair. John made no fuss, apart from checking pretty carefully that they were both fine. Then leading the pitch retrieving the gear and setting a top rope so Matt could jump straight back on it!

They lived beautifully.