Chris Bonington and his boys were the first generation of climbers to revolutionise alpine and high-altitude climbing after the ascent of Everest. Many of them died pushing the limits. Clint Willis claims to answer whether it was worth it. He doesn’t. No one, including climbers, can ever tell you why and whether it was worth the risk.
As is apparent in the title of Lionel Terray’s book, Conquistadors of the Useless, climbing is inherently a useless activity. Once upon a time, national pride and traditional exploration were at stake. No more. Many of the big ‘firsts’ had been done. What was next? Well, next was what Bonington’s boys set out to do. Climbing the hardest mountains of the world by their hardest routes.
The story starts with Bonington’s incredible first ascents in the Alps—such as the first ascent of the Freney Pillar, and climbs on the Eiger North Wall. It chronicles the accounts of expeditions he and his ‘boys’ did in the Himalayas. It’s a little breathless, and perhaps to those not interested deeply enough, repetitive. But it’s true. And that’s what hits you.
It’s about the infamous epic on the Ogre in the Karakoram, where Dougal Haston broke both legs falling off the ends of the rope on a rappel off the summit; and crawled through a storm for days. It’s the story of Mick Burke, who died while pushing for the summit. It’s about Joe Tasker and Peter Boardman; who climbed Indian mountains by high-altitude rock routes that no Indian climber has ever even thought of repeating. They died high on the unclimbed West Ridge of Everest, of sheer bloody exhaustion. Willis tells his or her stories with the first-hand awareness of someone who’s been there enough to imagine it.
The Boys of Everest, Clint Willis (Robson, Rs 1,024) is about boys who had a sense of who they wanted to be—something extraordinary. Boys who were looking for enlightenment without understanding what that meant. It’s about the myth of heroes. Because that is what climbing is about.