slopes
Monica Graaff Obituary To those who don’t climb – and I am one of them – the question “why” always comes up. Why risk your life unnecessarily? Why choose the most difficult route up a mountain when you could stroll up the back? Why?
To Duncan Elliott, the 35-year-old South African alpinist who died on an epic climb in Peru last week, the question was almost irrelevant. Climbing was an essential part of his life and without it – at this stage in his life – he would not be whole. One day, he always said, he would ease back on himself, settle down as professor of physics somewhere and have four gorgeous daughters with names like Sophia, Francesca and Isobella. But for now, he instinctively knew that his fiery brilliance needed testing and tempering by the icy cliffs of lonely mountains. They kept an exceptionally talented young man both humble and challenged by the agonising power of nature.
Elliott knew he was special – it would have been impossible not to. He could not walk into a room without touching people’s lives with his astounding intellect, deep interest in everyone he met and infectious spirit. It was a mixed blessing that he finely managed by leading a life that was an odd cocktail of the ascetic and the sociable.
Born and bred in Cape Town and educated at Sacs, King Edward VII High School (where he matriculated with seven
distinctions) and the University of Cape Town, Elliott had just completed a PhD in theoretical particle physics and was due to start post-doctoral research abroad upon his return from Peru. He was as passionate about physics as he was about climbing, although neither of these disciplines defined the man. He was one of those rare human beings who was able to converse knowledgeably and intelligently on just about any subject – from science to soccer to opera. He had an almost perfect memory and so was able to apply his mind to distilling a subject in such a way that would make it fascinating to almost any audience, whatever their age. When I founded Out There magazine at the end of 1995, Elliott, already a long-time friend, lent me most of the courage I lacked for the task and agreed to go out on a limb for me by covering the ill-fated first South African Everest expedition of which my magazine was a co- sponsor. He hated the way that mountaineering was becoming commercialised, and the tragic deaths that occurred on Everest in May 1996 proved his point. The big mountains were no place for amateurs – inexperienced climbers who were paying guides to get them to the tops of big-name mountains for the sake of being able to brag about it. They defiled his sport and his heroes and frequently inconvenienced the likes of him who had to convert their own climbing missions into rescue ones. In an article he wrote for Out There about a year later, Elliott wrote: “Alpinism is the Formula One of all mountain sports. And like Formula One you will have to be tested in the less epic arenas before you can slip into your sleek Gore-Tex suit and race up the north face of the Eiger. “Alpinism is primarily a mind game. On big faces conditions change rapidly, a factor which can cost you your life. Within the overall picture of your goal you need to weigh up each small part of the puzzle. Sometimes you wait, sometimes you turn back, sometimes you blaze on through. Decisions are always needing to be made. They can gnaw at your stomach. Success must not be assured, but won through skill and drive.
“Many, many skills are required, for the alpinist is a master craftsman: at home on rock and ice, patient in poor conditions, ruthlessly swift when the mountain has its defences lowered. The whale-backed ridges of the big peaks are left to the mountaineers; alpinists descend that way. Their routes must pull at the heart of the mountain, must offer a voyage of self-realisation.” Elliott died at about 6E400m while attempting an ascent of the difficult north face of Mount Huascaran, the highest peak in Peru. He was hit by an ice avalanche and battled for his life for about 40 hours before succumbing. His Peruvian climbing partner, Markoz Lopez, remained with him until the end in true mountaineering comradeship, before being taken down the mountain by rescuers who had crossed over from the easier route. Elliott’s body will remain on the mountain, as would have been his wish. His spirit is already back here with the many people who loved him. He climbed because he loved life, not because he wanted to die. Monica Graaff is marketing director of Conservation
Corporation Africa and founding editor of Out There magazine