In Memoriam

CHRIS CHANDLER 1948-1985

All the clichés applied to Chris— he was physically strong, psychologically

tough, and dedicated to the solitude of high montains. But the clichés do not

begin to define the extraordinary human being who died on Kangchenjunga in

January. Other words more readily come to mind— enigmatic, complex, hedon­

istic, moody, irresponsible— above all, free-spirited. Those are the qualities we

remember, molding a personality that was truly unique.

When we joined the Club in 1973, his record was not much different than the

other climbers entered on the first page of “Cs” in the AAC News— Phil Cardon,

Bruce Carson, and R.D. Caughron. It included impressive winter first ascents in

the Cascades, a climb of McKinley, and a number of peaks in Canada. But in the

next decade Chris set his distinctive course. First came Peru, and then the

Himalaya where he made his mark as one of America’s most accomplished, and

least heralded, climbers. Just as he wanted it. He summitted Everest in 1976 (the

second U.S. expedition to that peak), participated in the successful assault of K2

in 1978, and twice attempted Kangchenjunga in the 1980s. The conventional

achievements— impressive as they were to his friends— were not the important

thing to Chris. He was the quintessential non-conformist. He didn’t care much

about rules. But he was steadfast when he was needed, loyal when it counted.

On Everest he made a lot of sick people well on our way to the mountain. He

saved a Sherpa’s life at Base Camp. And then he climbed the peak. As we

prepared for the climb I would not have picked Chris as among the more reliable

members of the group. It didn’t take long for me to revise my assessment. I

quickly realized that despite his somewhat unusual appearance, he actually did

what he was asked to do. I learned more about his character when he led us up

Liberty Ridge and over the Rainier summit in a whiteout (rescuing some lost

Rainier guides in the process). He knew where he was going; and he went there.

That was Chris. He created a world that he wanted, and he lived in it. I

suspect Kangchenjunga was the perfect embodiment of that world— Chris and

Cheri, alone— challenging God knows what, pushing themselves to the edge,

and beyond. Chris would never stop.

He was an obsessed man, and chose to isolate himself in a separate universe.

His life, his views, and his actions were a challenge to all of us who knew him.

America has lost a distinguished mountaineer, although Chris wouldn’t give a

damn about that. We will miss a good friend.

Ph il ip T r im b l e