Beyond the Mountain by Steve House #
Beyond the Mountain, Steve House. I picked this book up used for $4 at the public library in Bozeman, Montana awhile back and finally got around to reading it recently. House is someone who I know a decent amount about, but mainly from reputation and from training resourcesFor instance, I’ve read Training for the New Alpinism. since his days at the bleeding edge of alpine climbing predate my interest in climbing. This memoir recounts his career from 1990 through 2005, beginning as a rather green member of a Slovenian expedition to Nanga Parbat and culminating in his alpine-style ascent with Vince Anderson of the Rupal face of the same mountain.For which they won the 2006 Piolet D’Or, becoming the first North Americans to do so. Along the way, we meet a person singularly dedicated to climbing as much as possible, often at the expense of other aspects of life like romantic relationships. A long-term relationship, for instance, ends roughly because he doesn’t feel the depth of connection with his partner that he did with his climbing partners on a speedy ascent of the Slovak Direct route on Denali.
The book ends with depictions of House’s reluctance to be in the spotlight after his climbs: an unexpected welcome ceremony in a local village after the Nanga Parbat, the Piolet D’Or awards ceremony, and a talk at the Ouray ice festival. When reading the book, one often feels the same hesitance. The prose is extremely direct. While this has some refreshing qualities—House only occasionally enters into tired cliches about the mountains—it leaves the reader wanting more sometimes. The book does have its literary moments. The description of the Rupal face climb jumps back and forth between the climb and the descent, creating a dizziness in the reader at first that must be a (very dim of course) reflection of their mental state.
Just like House, the book thrives in the climbing sections, with very detailed accounts of what it really takes to get up and down some truly awe-inspiring lines in the big mountains. Just like House, the book leaves the reader wanting more emotional depth, feeling like there’s more behind the surface that we don’t get to see. In that sense, this memoir might indeed be a true reflection of its author.