Scott Backes
I met Scott Backes in 1985, the night Jonny Blitz fractured his elbow on a wood stove, slam-dancing at the going-away party thrown for my second trip to Chamonix. We didn't actually talk until '89 when he came to France with Michael Gilbert. They had climbed the north face of the Eiger but, with the weather going bad, wanted to head south to climb in the Verdon Gorge.
We agreed to meet at the Choucas, midway down the Rue Paccard. Scott introduced himself by saying, “I don't know what happened man, I just fell down the goddamned stairs.” I was the only Skinny Puppy fan I knew - he quoted one of their songs titled "Stairs and Flowers", and in that moment I knew we would be friends, and climbing partners.
We really meshed on that Verdon trip but didn't see each other for a while afterwards. Scott was busy working as a Grip in the film business, and climbing in Yosemite and the Canadian Rockies, as well as the north shore of Lake Superior. I was living in Chamonix and also traveling to climb quite a lot. We ran into each other in the streets of Kathmandu in October 1991, and climbed waterfalls in Utah and the Canadian Rockies later that winter.
Scott came back to France in May '92 and, out of 30 days on the ground, he only saw two days when it didn't rain. Eventually, the tally of consecutive bad weather days got up to 53 or 55 that spring but while we didn't climb we trained a lot, drank coffee, and made plans for the future. In autumn of 1993 conditions for ice and mixed routes came good in the Alps so Scott flew over and we climbed two new routes, "Birthright" on the Grands Charmoz and "There Goes The Neighborhood" on the Aiguille Sans Nom. Seeing the potential to take some lessons learned in the "urban" Mont Blanc massif to the greater ranges, we made a date to meet in Alaska the following year. The highpoint of that trip was the first ascent of "Deprivation" on the north buttress of Mount Hunter, done in a 72-hour roundtrip from base camp.
During that trip we also participated in a rescue on Mount Hunter which I wrote about for Climbing Magazine and later revisited for the third issue of RAZE. That event got us invited back the following year to volunteer at the 14,000-foot camp on Denali, being around and available should any climbers need rescue, or bodies need recovery. We figured three weeks at or above 14k would get us acclimatized for a quick hit on Mount Foraker, but failed to factor in the emotional cost of the rescues and recoveries we undertook. That was a very heavy trip.
The following year we took a lighter trip to Bolivia, where we got lucky, and also had one of the most beautiful mountain experiences we had ever shared up to that point. Many details from that trip are discussed during Episode 77 of the podcast.
We didn't see each other much until 2000 when we climbed the Slovak Direct on Denali with Steve House in a single 60-hour push. That route and the way we did it was the culmination of a lot of trial and error, of imagination, of humility as well as hubris, and always asking the question, "How light is too light?" Steve said it was his "first world-class route", while both Scott and I knew it would be our last. Scott backed away from the big mountains and their inherent risk to start a family, but kept a hand in, climbing ice and mixed routes, and long rock routes in Yosemite. He placed fifth at Ouray Ice Comp when he was 58, and did some big, new waterfall routes in Icefall Brook, in Canada as he approached retirement age.
After the Slovak route I quit climbing altogether. Scott and I would see each other at trade shows, or when I had a military training gig and needed his expertise, and his remarkable ability to communicate. We had a few good days on the bike together as well. We don't need to tie in to the rope to remain bound to one another. Each time we meet our conversation picks up where we last left off, with no beats missed, and no love lost. Scott's influence on my life has been strong, and transformative. Making the decision to quit climbing meant he and I would never rope up again. Some days I regretted that choice and I know he felt the loss too but also understood and respected my path, and what I needed to do.
It never occurred to me that we would climb together again but circumstances late in 2020 allowed just that. We met in Cody, with Brian Hall and Blair Speed. I bought some boots and borrowed the rest of the gear I needed, but forgot my helmet, which caused some uneasy laughs, and he made good on his promise to be the rope gun. Tying in reaffirmed our love for one another. Seeing him move — with the grace and efficiency that comes from doing the activity for over forty years — was quite special, something I'll not forget. I wouldn't be the man I am without his friendship and our experiences together, and I'll say that the same is true for him.
Scott has appeared on the podcast