The Art of Empowering Yourself Against an ‘Alpine Divorce’

Last January, an amateur alpinist abandoned his girlfriend near the summit of Austria’s tallest peak, Mt. Grossglockner. But that wasn’t the first time this alpinist, Thomas Plamberger, had deserted a romantic partner in the alpine. During the 14-hour trial, his ex-girlfriend, identified as Andrea B., testified that Plamberger had also left her alone three years ago on the very same mountain. Luckily for Andrea, it had been summer, no storms threatened, and she descended safely alone. This case has triggered more people to share firsthand accounts of “alpine divorce,” the modern term for abandoning a romantic prospect in the mountains.

After editing coverage of this homicide case for several months, I believe alpine divorce can take two forms. There is the intentional (and explicitly criminal) variety, wherein someone takes their spouse or romantic partner into the mountains with the clear intent of engendering their “accidental” death. But there is also the more common, yet more insidious form of alpine divorce, in which a climber or hiker takes a less experienced partner to the mountains and ends up causing their death by making careless, ignorant, and sometimes emotionally motivated errors.

This latter form is what the verdict suggests Plamberger committed. While he has been found guilty of grossly negligent manslaughter, he has not been convicted of willfully or intentionally murdering his girlfriend by leaving her in a brutal storm on Austria’s Mt. Grossglockner. The judge found that his negligence led to her death, not that he had plotted a deliberate “alpine divorce.”

My own experience with an alpine divorce

I’ve had my own brush with the unintentional flavor of alpine divorce in the past. When I moved to Colorado as a 21-year-old urbanite clueless about the outdoors, I often went on climbing trips and remote hikes with my then-boyfriend. He had extensive experience in the mountains—and was a solid trad climber who had summited Denali and climbed technical routes in Patagonia. Needless to say, I was usually eating his dirt.

One summer, on a trip to Unaweep Canyon, Colorado, we went to scout a climb in the afternoon heat. Hiking up talus under the punishing sun, I quickly fell behind. With my head down, I moved slowly, worried about rattlesnakes lurking beneath every rock I stepped on. The next time I looked up, my boyfriend was gone. When I called his name, my voice echoed against the canyon walls.

It was at this point that I realized just how helpless I was without him, having no idea how to find the route we were scouting, or even how to get back to camp. It dawned on me how underprepared we both were for this hot-weather adventure, with little water or food, and no sunscreen. Placing all my trust in his experience, I hadn’t thought to ask questions or make suggestions. And now I was all alone, certain a rattlesnake would appear and suddenly raise the stakes.

About an hour later, I found my boyfriend waiting for me. Of course, he didn’t intend to commit, ahem, an alpine divorce. But he had grown frustrated with my pace and we’d been squabbling about something. If I’d been unlucky, and become hopelessly lost or suffered a snakebite, could he have ended up in a courtroom, explaining away a grossly negligent manslaughter? Maybe. But I might not be there to see it.

The Austrian court case reminded me of how vulnerable I’d been then—and what I wish I could tell myself now. But if you’re heading into the mountains with a more experienced person, there are still ways to avoid falling into the trap of an alpine divorce, intentional or otherwise.

Even if you do trust your more experienced partner, read on below to see what you can do to protect yourself from getting sandbagged, lost, hurt—or worse—in the alpine.

Mistakes to avoid, gleaned from the Grossglockner charges

In defining Thomas Plamberger as the more experienced climber, the prosecution argued that he became the de facto “responsible guide” of Kerstin Gurtner. In that role, the public prosecutor’s office accused Plamberger of nine errors that ultimately led to her death.

Each of these mistakes constituted a charge against him in the case, as well as a lesson or reminder for others to heed.

If you’ve never climbed at high altitude, don’t try it for the first time in winter.

“Despite the woman’s inexperience, who had never undertaken an alpine high-altitude tour of this length, difficulty and altitude,” the Innsbruck Public Prosecutor’s Office wrote, “and despite the challenging winter conditions, the defendant undertook the alpine high-altitude tour … in winter.”

If you haven’t undertaken a big alpine climb before, don’t let anyone convince you to head up your country’s biggest mountain—especially in winter, where the dangers are far greater than in summer.

When it comes to the difficulty of the objective, don’t take your partner’s word for it. Look up the route online yourself, post questions in an online forum, and assess whether you’ve done enough similar climbing to take on what your partner is proposing.

Furthermore, always look up the forecast before a climb. Plamberger and Gurtner ended up in 46 mph winds and temperatures as low as negative 4 degrees Fahrenheit with wind chill. If a storm is forecasted during your climbing window, it’s probably best to choose a quicker, closer-to-town climb.

Give yourself plenty of time to get down before dark or bad weather.

One of the prosecutor’s accusations detailed how Plamberger began their climb about two hours too late. While the judge ultimately rejected the charge, it sheds light on something other rescuers have called out about accidents and timing. Be realistic about how long a climb will take you—and never base your estimate off the fastest known times out there. Consider your pace on past comparable trails or climbs, as well as when you need to be done, based on weather moving in or other factors. Then add an hour or two as a cushion.

This usually means getting an alpine start, which might be as early as midnight. Plamberger and Gurtner began their climb up Grossglockner at 6:45 a.m., much too late for their objective and capabilities, particularly in the limited light of winter.

Especially in winter, always bring an emergency shelter.

This one is pretty straightforward. If someone gets injured or equipment fails, you could get stuck on the mountain. In winter, that’s particularly deadly, when the cold and the elements can quickly become fatal. Make sure your partner is bringing equipment for an emergency bivouac, even if you feel as confident as Plamberger—who did not carry bivy gear—claimed to be.

Make sure you have the right equipment.

Trying to summit a 14er in Chacos? Going on a multi-pitch ice climb with horizontal front point crampons? Probably a bad idea—just as ascending Grossglockner in winter with snowboarding boots and a splitboard ended up being for Gurtner.

If your partner is trying to convince you that you can make do with the wrong gear, push back. Choose a different objective that you do have the right gear for—or see if you can borrow or rent the right gear locally. That said, you still need to know how to use that gear. You shouldn’t learn how to use crampons or ice tools on a committing alpine climb, for example.

If you’re not sure which equipment you need, do some of your own research or ask on an online forum to crowdsource some info on whether what you have is acceptably safe for the climb you want to do.

Ensure you are using the best systems.

Right before trial, the prosecution added a tenth charge against Plamberger stating that he should have employed a running belay rather than a fixed belay, presumably so that the pair could have moved faster over the moderate terrain leading to Grossglockner’s summit. This sheds light on other gaps in the Austrian climber’s knowledge, particularly in rescue systems.

If you’re heading out on a technical winter objective, ideally both parties have enough experience to align on and use the best belay set-ups, plans for protecting the climb, and self-rescue procedures. If your partner refuses to teach you systems, don’t let them take you on a technical objective. Sure, if everything goes to plan, the climb might go well. But if anything goes wrong, you’ll be the most vulnerable.

Have a clear idea of what merits turning back.

Another charge wrought against Plamberger stated that he should have made the decision to turn around at “the Breakfast Spot,” which serves as a critical turnaround point on the route they were taking up Grossglockner. They were behind schedule on their climb and the weather had started to turn. Had they headed down here, Gurtner likely wouldn’t have lost her life.

Every alpine climb should have a preset turnaround time. If your climb isn’t going as planned—you’re behind schedule, a health issue arises, a gear failure occurs, weather is moving in, etc.—turn around. Don’t let a stubborn partner try to convince you otherwise. One climber suggested that coming up with a Plan B for your “date”—beyond the summit—can help ease the decision of turning around. Maybe you have a back-up plan to go to the climbing gym or play cards at a pub as a consolation prize to standing on the summit or topping out on a route.

Call for help before it’s too late.

This tip combines three charges held against Plamberger: The first is that he failed to call for help until it was essentially too late, at 12:35 a.m. when violent winds and cold had set in. The second was that he didn’t signal for help when rescuers went to check on him. At 10:30 p.m., a rescue helicopter dispatched to Grossglockner had flown overhead. But Plamberger or Gurtner offered no distress signals at that time. When Plamberger finally did call for help, the police stated that his request was “unclear.” And the third charge? After this call, Plamberger put his phone on silent. He didn’t call for help again until 2:00 a.m., after abandoning Gurtner, and when the conditions made a helicopter evacuation too dangerous to attempt.

While this whole rescue timeline is confusing at best, what’s clear is that you should call for help when things go south—especially if night and weather are closing in. This may seem obvious, but you should also clearly state where you are and what you need from rescuers, then keep your phone or satellite communications device powered on to field any follow-up comms.

If you will be out of cell service, make sure you and/or your partner have a communications device like a Garmin inReach or Spot device to call for help if needed.

If your partner must leave you to seek help, ensure you’re in the best possible spot.

While Plamberger’s account of where he left Gurtner conflicts with where rescuers actually found her body, the reality is that Gurtner died hanging in her harness about 50 meters from the summit. She was not on flat ground or in a sheltered position, and was still wearing her backpack. If one partner must leave another to get help, ensure the person left behind is on flat, safe terrain, and anchored in, if they are in a fall zone. Try to find a spot sheltered from the wind or elements, and deploy a bivy or emergency blankets for additional protection and warmth.

More ways to protect yourself from an alpine divorce

The Grossglockner case offers some hard takeaways on preventing yourself from becoming the victim of gross negligence. But there are a few more invaluable takeaways if you read between the lines.

Be critical of your partner’s skills and experience.

As we alluded to above, consider the size of your partner’s experience against the size of the challenge they’re proposing—do they match? Plamberger admitted to being self-taught mostly through online videos when it comes to alpinism.

A few questions to consider: How many years has your partner been climbing? Have they gone through any formal training or certifications such as an American Mountain Guides Association course or avalanche training? Do they have strong mentors? Or did they learn about climbing on YouTube?

If you’re thinking of heading into the mountains with someone who you just started dating, don’t be shy about quizzing them about their climbing credentials.

Ask lots of the questions—and do your own research.

Don’t hold back. Got questions about climbing grades, altitude, conditions, or gear? Ask them, and don’t be afraid to challenge your prospective partner’s answers.

If your partner seems unsure or dismissive of your questions, do your own research. Read prior trip reports on the route or trail. Ask around for more beta. Look up the wind, temperature, and precipitation forecast. If what you find runs counter to what your partner says, that’s a warning sign.

Look out for red flags that your partner is incompetent—or has bad intentions.

Not long ago, we outlined some of the red flags any climber should look for in a partner, romantic or otherwise. Some of these warning signs translate to less technical objectives in the mountains as well. Have they sandbagged you—gotten you in over your head on an adventure—before, and on purpose? Do they include you in decision-making, or ignore your input? If they don’t respect your opinion, don’t partner up with them in the mountains.

Furthermore, if you’ve been on bad terms or fighting with your romantic partner, it might be ideal to hold off on stressful adventures, lest you run the risk of a real “alpine divorce,” in the purest sense.

Be resilient, never fully relying on your partner for safety.

Bring your own satellite communications device. Tell someone else where you’re going and when you expect to return. Pack your own bivy gear. Use your own map or mapping app and know the route in advance. Pay attention to your surroundings and the skies. If something happens to your partner—or if they abandon you—make sure you have what you need to get yourself out independently.

Don’t let romance blur your reality.

As journalist and climber Owen Clarke, who has been reporting on the Grossglockner case for Climbing, explains in a video about his coverage, climbing with a romantic partner can get complicated. Perhaps you’re trying to impress your new(ish) paramour. Maybe you’re embarrassed to admit to someone you just started dating that you’re struggling or need help. Or possibly, the hormones of love have flooded your system, making you feel capable of anything.

It goes without saying, but your safety and your life should take priority over achieving any relationship objectives you have in mind. Try to be aware of these emotions or tensions you may be experiencing so they don’t cloud your judgement or increase your risk beyond what you’re prepared for. There’s nothing romantic about dying an unnecessary death.

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