An opinion on adventure and motivation
By Hector Pringle
Ancient Roman amphitheatres were designed to awe the spectators and dwarf the “entertainers” – typically gladiators, charioteers, animal slayers and executioners. It is fitting, therefore, that when you stand beneath the Amphitheatre in the Drakensberg you start to wish you were a gladiator or knew how to slay wild animals. The place makes you feel inadequate.
The first thing that strikes you is the massive black wall. It strikes you because it is 4.5km wide and 1km high. It is fucking huge. You then become fixated by the proud bulk of the Sentinel on the western flank. It gazes eastwards over Beacon Buttress to the far eastern flank of the Amphitheatre. The Sentinel is right to keep its gaze on that eastern arm. It is always good to know where the Devil is. Tucked in between the three summits of the Inner Towers and the large bulk of Eastern Buttress is a jagged Tooth of crumbling basalt. The Devils Tooth, and the splintered adjacent Tooth Pick complete the complex eastern flank. The Amphitheatre is an intimidating and inspiring place. This is a story about three very different adventures that unfolded across its walls and peaks.
The first adventure was just over twenty years ago. Two experienced mountaineers shared the Sentinel’s view one day and were inspired by the northern prow of the Eastern Buttress. They went home, made a plan and returned to try and climb a new route up the very outermost arête. They hiked up Lion Ridge below it and climbed straight up the prow in impeccable style, ground up and using no fixed protection. The final two pitches were very bold and committing with bad rock and big runouts. To their surprise they discovered, upon topping out, that they had made the first ascent of a stand-alone peak, separated from the main bulk of Eastern Buttress by a chasm. They abseiled down their route on suspect anchors and finally made it back to their high camp that night, elated at a proud first ascent on a new peak. They named the route Lionheart – a fitting name for the arena of the Amphitheatre.
The second adventure began some nineteen years later, on the opposite flank of the Amphitheatre. A large group of mountain enthusiasts spent hundreds of man hours lugging steel cables, drills, rebar and clamps up the north eastern arête of Beacon Buttress. They drilled 18mm holes in the rock, into which they epoxied the rebar. They then clamped the cable to these anchors to create a via ferrata – an almost continuous snaking cable from near the contour path all the way to the summit. The idea was to create a safe and non-committing route to enable timid climbers and brave non-climbers to experience the massive exposure and thrill of a high Drakensburg climb. The first ascent of The Gordian Edge, as their route was called, was only the start of the adventure. The strongly mixed reactions in the climbing fraternity paled to insignificance alongside the legal route taken by the authorities. The correct permissions had not been sought for the via ferrata construction, and the land owners came out guns blazing. This adventure continues with an uncertain outcome.
Paco Reynolds (4 year old) and partner climb the via ferrata in the Drakensberg. Photo by Dave Reynolds
The third adventure was earlier this year. Two climbing mates had long been inspired both by Lionheart, and by the continuation convoluted Eastern Buttress skyline. They came up with a plan to link the seven eastern summits and the two western summits of the Amphitheatre in a single alpine-style push. Their first attempt was a dismal failure due to heavy snow, but it gave them some new ideas for their second attempt. The project had a high chance of failure and there were many uncertainties. The biggest question marks were the new ground to get from the Tooth onto the Inner Towers, and how to manage the lack of water on the route. On the day, however, the plan was a success. Despite some route finding errors the climbs went quickly and the pair wrapped up their project in just over 41 hours.

The third adventure earlier this year - the entire round trip was 53km with a total altitude gain of 2,700m. Photo by Hector Pringle
What to make of these three, very different adventures?
All three were born out of the inspiration of the Amphitheatre, and a genuine love of high and remote places. In the cases of Lionheart’s first ascent and the Amphitheatre enchainment, the vision was to meet the mountain’s challenges in as minimalist a style as possible. To steal a phrase, the style was the ascent, and to diminish the style was to fail.
In the case of the via ferrata the inspiration was to share a passion for the mountains with the nameless many who possibly would not otherwise experience the grandeur of the big hills. For the via ferrata construction team climbing is such a defining, fulfilling aspect of life that it was obvious to try and educate non-climbers about what they are missing out on. That handles the easy, touchy-feely side of these adventures.
But what about that other, and equally important, aspect of motivation: Ego? For all three ascents there were strong external motivations. They were all firsts in some way and everyone wants to be the first. They were all advertised and touted after the ascent – journal articles, blogs, web pages and the like, within the constraints of the era. You need a lot of ego to put in the mental and physical effort demanded by all three adventures. You get a buzz off the recognition of doing something hard or dangerous – even if the recognition is negative.
Enough impartial observing now, and time to put my opinion on the line. I found the via ferrata shocking. I have huge respect for the protagonists and their prior accomplishments and I just could not reconcile this with what I viewed as a desecration. But why is my claim over that piece of ground stronger than theirs? Why, according to me, is there more merit in what Andrew (Porter) and I did with our enchainment, or in what Paul and Russ did on their first ascent of Lionheart, than in the ostensibly altruistic construction of an accessible route that all can enjoy?
For me it boils down to what it is that we seek in the mountains. And that is adventure. Everyone will have their own definition of an adventure, but mine goes something like this: An adventure is an unnecessary goal-oriented undertaking with an uncertain outcome. When I think about it fundamentally, the process of adventure is truly the reason I climb. I imagine the same applies to most any climber – from bouldering to sport or trad to the alpine, the learning process is the point, irrespective of the level of difficulty or whether you succeed or fail. And in order to learn there must be uncertainty. There must be a chance of failure, and a chance of averting failure by making good decisions. I therefore see the via ferrata as dismally unsuccessful in the realm of allowing people to fall in love with climbing. It sends out the message that you should expect decisions to be made for you, and thereby removes all uncertainty. It is not an adventure, it is a stunt, like bungy jumping. By all means many people enjoy via ferrata for the sheer fun of it, and I have no doubt it must be a hell of a lot of fun. But is that really the hook that will bring them back again and again? I argue that those who pursue climbing seriously after a via ferrata excursion would be equally likely to get psyched after being taken up the Sentinel, say, or after their first trip to ‘Boven. Both those outings would have a far greater fundamental element of adventure than following a steel cable up the side of a cliff.
But, the argument might run, if it is fun what is the harm? I say the risk is that a via ferrata steals someone else’s adventure. Two young alpinists recently chopped the infamous compressor route on Cerro Torre after climbing a variation of it using almost no bolts. Jason Kruk, one of the choppees, said of Cesare Maestri who originally put the bolts in: “He stole that climb from the future“. I realise this is a dramatic and overstated example, but as a principle I agree with it in the context of via ferrata. Steel cables preclude any adventure other than the one designed by the installers. If you have a different vision for that piece of hill, then sorry. Rather go look elsewhere.
In writing this I’m aware of the gauntlet of arguments and absolutes that can ensue. I think its important to keep three things in mind. One, in the grand scheme of things climbing is insignificant. A steel cable here, or a bolt there has zilch impact on the rest of the world. So let’s keep some perspective. Two, very little in life is clear cut. Everything has nuance and circumstantial uniqueness. Let’s not use dogmatic principle to dilute the nuance. And three, anyone reading this, and anyone involved in mountainous adventures almost certainly loves high places. We might have different visions, but we all have the same passion.
After many, many words the points I am trying to make are: let’s be honest to ourselves about our motivations for climbing; and let’s be aware of the impact our adventures have on the adventures and dreams of others.
2000 years down the track and the Roman Amphitheatres are still with us. Gladiators no longer skewer each other and wild animals no longer get slain. Instead camera-wielding tourists traipse between the columns. Although the Drakensberg Amphitheatre rock is crumbly the grass there is tough and it binds the whole lot together quite well. I give the via erbosa, or grassy routes, there good odds to last longer than 2000 years. By then, our adventures and cables, via ferrata and chain ladders will be irrelevant. Now there’s a thought that gets me psyched to go out into the hills.
Notes:
- Lionheart was opened by Paul Fatti and Russ Dodding in March 1992.
- The Gordian Edge was installed by a host of people in late 2011. Ezemvelo KZN Wildlife, the authority responsible for the management of the area in which the via ferrata was constructed, has declared the via ferrata illegal and has taken legal action against some of the installers.
- The ‘Amphitheatre Enchainment‘ was done by Hector Pringle and Andrew Porter in April 2012.










What a brilliant piece Hector, thanks for bringing sensibility and sensitivity to the debarkle. May your passion for adventure and sacred mountain environments prevail.
Brilliant hector!!
Nice one. Via Ferrata is a bit like chipping. Can’t do it so we’ll bring it down to our abilities.
Of course, Hector, some may argue that a lifetime of climbing across all its genres will necessarily lead to a diminishing of ego (and that that is its point, after all).
Within that context, your piece is cannily articulate – and your use of the concept of “nuance” is impeccable.
yes, yes, yes! Love it, dig your definition of adventure vs a stunt.
Viva Erbosa, viva!
Who’s to say someone else’s adventure up the via ferrata won’t match your adventure on the enchainment? For much of the way on the ‘enchainment’ you were following a known ‘route’ (with an RD) just as those climbing the VF are, by following the cable (the other ingredients for adventure are still there…even if only to a more timid, lesser skilled individual). Where VFs fail is their need to permanently alter the original environment. That, I believe, is the only issue you can have with them. The rest just comes down to your definition of adventure. But then, should we not be equally appalled by all the bolts littering the country’s sport climbing crags? There are countless routes, now bolted, that could be climbed without fixed protection, or if not, which might be so climbed in the future. Interesting double standard, don’t you think?
Sam, you are correct that VF’s can be adventurous for some people, but it is all about context. Hector has very clearly articulated the difference.
Furthermore, going out and contriving your own adventures is a completely different process to engineering a VF or bungy or zip line or bolted route or fixed line up a mountain and contriving an “adventure” for all and sundry. If you read about Everest this season (700 people attempting an ascent at the same time) one can hardly consider an ascent of Everest an “adventure” in that context anymore.
The message is an excellent one and very clear. Pursue your own adventures in any way you choose but take due consideration of the context in which you do so and do not trivialize or steal anyone else’s adventures.
Agreed! So what ARE we going to do about all those bolted sports routes?? Or has the Berg got some special claim to being left unscarred for purist adventurers? There’s enough adventure to go round – 4.5km of it, apparently. So why not share a little love? The world is full of allsorts
Very well articulated, beautiful, thought provoking piece Hector. Thanks. And you’re right it isn’t clear cut. It never is. Sam has a point about the sport routes. But I for one still like them there. I still want to climb them. All we can really do is be true to ourselves and act with as much awareness as we are capable of. And I’m still not entirely sure where that leaves the via ferrata.
Sam, I know there are contradictions between condemning bolting in certain areas, and embracing it in others. I love clipping bolts at ‘boven, even when they are right next to bomber cracks. How does that fit into my definition of adventure? Why is that not just a stunt? I don’t know exactly. On a good day sport climbing still feels like learning. Maybe that’s part of it. I also love repeating easy trad routes that I know I won’t fall off. Even ones I’ve done dozens of times. Where is the adventure in that? What can I possible learn? I don’t know, but I do it all day with a massive grin.
Debates about climbing ethics are usually argued in absolutes. Dogma has no space for nuance and changing ideas. The usual way is to define a set of ethics and then hunt for “evidence” to support this. This results in two opposing, ranting camps. My starting point was to rather try figure out why I climb and what I get out of it. If I know why I climb I will have a clearer picture of what ethics I should subscribe to. I’ll probably never know for sure, but it doesn’t hurt to ask and maybe get some half-answers. In principle, the motivations for building or repeating a via feratta seem very far from my motivations for climbing. Irreconcilably far. Some of the motivations for bolting or repeating a sport route overlap with mine, so I can accept much of sport climbing. This is all grey, messy and undefined. But I reckon its closer to the truth than the usual trad vs. sport nonsense. Why do you climb?
Awesome writing Hector! I absolutely love hearing about your adventures.
Brilliant, open and honest responses to the feedback too
Photo by Neil Lindsay
Hector, please realise that Via Ferrata and Climbing are two different sports.
Are tennis and badminton the same sport? Yes, they must be because they both use a racquet and a court.
Are snow skiing and water-skiing the same sport? They must be because they both use skis etc etc etc.
I have been on 40 VF routes in France, Italy and Switzerland. Not once anywhere was there any feeling that a VF was a ‘dumbed-down’ climbing route, meant for wussies that can’t climb.
Climbing, bouldering, scrambling and VF are all similar, but different and all have their place in life.
If you don’t want to do VF, water-ski, play chess, whatever – don’t, but don’t deny those who do want to just because you don’t.
VF is not Climbing!
Will you ALL please get this fundamental point!
I am not defending anyone’s actions here, merely trying to get this salient point across.
Incidentally, I have ascended The Gordian Knot and have found it to be a superb VF, one of the finest.
Cheers and Peace
Greg you are really just muddying the waters. Nobody is confusing VF’s and climbing at all. Merely the Raison d’être of this particular VF in its particular context.
Greg, call me out if I’m wrong but I think your analogy is flawed:
Tennis and badmington are not played on the same court? If you set up a badmington net on a tennis court then you can’t play tennis?
This particular VF appears to cross a pre-existing trad route. It also potentially jeopardised access for all climbers to parts of the berg by p’ing off the authorities with whom climbers had a good relationship.
I don’t recall anyone being against the concept of via ferrata’s in principle.
I think we all accept that we have to share our space in a crowded world (even possibly with a cable car!), it just requires some give and take on both sides.
And, yes, many people (including the UN) think that the Berg IS special, thats why its a World Heritage site – so, its not the same as bolting crags.
At the end of day,we are all on the same side, so peace brothers and sisters and see you on the mountains (and crags).
I agree with Greg, and would personally have liked to have gone up the VF, oooh horror, but before you shoot me down, let me add, I don’t like all of the new bok coaches choices for the springboks but my nieghbour does, thats life. There will never be a correct answer to the above debate only our opinions. Nicely written Hector, I enjoyed reading it. Please don’t reply to this comment, I know some of you disaggree and some of you don’t, it really doesn’t matter.
Howzit Hector. Just a quick one – I’m weary of being drawn too far into this ‘debate’ (more like a Roman Amphitheatre!). Your opinion seems a fairly polarised one with respect to the VF, judging from your use of terms such as “shocking” and “desecration”. But these statements seem incongruous beside later talk of nuance and especially in view of the application of a double standard when one considers countless other areas which have been ‘developed’ for our climbing convenience and enjoyment. In short, I think you (and many others) are being unfair to the establishers of the VF because you argue that this as something different to other types of climbing development in which the natural environment has been altered permanently. Perhaps we could have a more constructive debate over the criteria we should use to determine which areas get developed, as well as the degree to which they are developed. I think this is what Snort means by ‘context’? But this debate really needs to be tolerant of views other than those expressed by the hardcore adventurer/climber fraternity. Calling an ascent of a VF route a stunt is simply not helpful.
I have a defence strategy should the accused need any advice for their day in court! They should just say that god instructed them to put up the via ferratta. Trust me no one can dare argue or question religion! They could say they were building a special ladder to take people up to see god.
Oh the end must be near, we are killing all the whales, rhino’s etc etc and now finally we are even trying to kill off adventure….. May god help us all
)))))
Oh ja I’m away again so any hate mail from the religious zealots and via ferrata supporters would be much appreciated! It’s lonely down here
neels@fastmail.fm
So what do I do. I have hiked up the River then the chains 3x and urinated over the falls, passing all the walls drooling at the mouth humbled and inspired, got a pair of shoes, found a leader; a second who kicked me in the back of the head now n again when i needed to change a grip before i peeled off, as a tight rope would pull me off balence,watched many a sunset with pride in my heart n` teers in my eyes. managed to do most trad up to13`s in C.T. Tafelberg frontal, Black slab on a sloppy top rope, a few higher numbers on granit, now i hear about the V.F. route in the Berg and my mind goes into overdrive, my spirits soar, then i read what u ……………. [fill in your own words] have to say, i am saddened at the ego`s of the youth who will be so greatfull for that way of iron when they turn 80 or more. The mountains belong to all of us, if u can`t get up a route u aid your way, like on Fenster India the staples are there , BUT u dont have to use them, so don`t deny others who dont have your skills but have just as much passion for the rock as you.