麻豆

鈥淭he Price of Preservation: Climbing, Conservation, and Conflict鈥�

By Nicolas Formella

Dear Reader,

When I first started this autoethnography, I was quite nervous as I had never written an autoethnography before. I only ever wrote argumentative or creative papers throughout high school and college, so this was a completely new experience for me. However, when I learned that it starts with a personal narrative, I began to get excited about writing the paper. This format allowed me to write about my own personal experiences and thoughts in a way I've never done before.

I initially struggled to come up with a topic for the paper, bouncing around between a couple ideas that had ethical and academic significance, but I couldn't really settle on something that resonated with me. I eventually thought about my main hobby, rock climbing, and realized that I've been having internal conflicts surrounding the effects of permanent bolts and climbing access on environmental conservation.

I began to research this topic due to my own experience using bolts for personal safety while climbing outdoors, wondering how much damage the bolts actually caused to the environment, and if there were potential solutions that encouraged environmental conservation. I quickly found that the bolts did not pose much of an issue to habitats and to the landscape; however, climbers themselves are disrupting local flora and fauna and disrupting native and protected lands. I previously had ideas about the disruption of plant and animal life, but I didn't consider the disruption of native and protected lands before doing this research.

This realization caused me to shift my focus from resolving damage due to bolting bolting to general preservation of nature. I began to research the damage being done by climbers to some of the most popular areas in North America while also researching climber ethics and how damage could be prevented. Consistently, I found that education and experience of leave no trace (LNT) principles and on protected lands is the best way to mitigate damage in nature.

Overall, I enjoyed researching for and writing this paper, and I feel that it has allowed me to add a unique voice to my writing that I haven't been able to explore previously. I believe that autoethnographies allow for an enjoyable writing and reading experience, especially because they feel more personal than just a standard research paper.
I hope you enjoy reading the journey this project took me through.

Sincerely,
Nicolas Formella

Abstract

With the growing popularity of outdoor sports, people have been permanently altering and destroying landscapes and the environment to make them more accessible for climbing by placing bolts in rock. Inspired by my own experience seeing disruptions in nature while participating in my hobbies, this paper reflects on the ecological impact of outdoor sports, beginning with a focus on bolting for slacklining and rock climbing. The presence of climbers and explorers alike has inevitably affected ecosystems, wildlife, and culture in regions of practice. Researching these impacts along with prevention methods, I aim to find a solution that allows climbers and outdoor enthusiasts to enjoy nature with minimal destruction.

The Send

It was a warm day at the end of July 2022. The weather was perfect. I set up my slackline as usual, about four feet off the ground, between two trees one hundred feet apart in Dellwood Park. Every time I attempted to send the line (walk across it without falling) I fell off right in the middle, where the line becomes the most unstable. I thought about how to get past the issue and realized I'd have to practice from the midpoint.

As I sat down in the middle of the line, my fears began to kick in. I was worried I'd fall uncontrollably and injure myself. I took several seconds before standing and reminded myself of the litany against fear from Dune. "Fear is the mind killer." I finally stood up but barely remained on the line for a second before getting kicked off. Realizing I was not hurt and could practice like this without injury, my courage increased. Again and again, I fell off the line, but it took longer to fall each time. When I could finally stand on one leg for around six seconds, I knew it was time.

I stretched out my legs and hips and prepared myself for the send. I tried to mentally prepare myself for the distance by taking steps on the ground from one tree to the other, but with each step, my fear grew. I sat on the line and prepared to start, but my breath was trembling and uncontrolled. It felt like I spent hours trying to steady the line before I reached forward and pulled myself into a standing position.

As I stood on the line, I realized I had to find some way to calm myself down on the line. With my mind on the send, adrenaline was coursing through my body, preventing me from relaxing as I usually did. I did the first thing that came to mind: I started taking steps and shifted my focus towards counting them. One, two, balance- three, four, balance... My feet kicked into a natural rhythm without thought while my brain remained focused on counting. Fifteen, sixteen, balance... I paused for a second and realized I was a third of the way across. Twenty-three, twenty-four, balance... My legs shook as I realized I reached the midpoint where I always fell. "Fear is the mind killer," I reminded myself as I pushed forwards. Thirty-one, thirty-two, balance... I finally made it past the hard part, but did my muscles have the strength to continue? Thirty-five, thirty-six, balance... My arms started to drop as my shoulders burned from the movement. Thirty-seven, thirty-eight, balance... I sped up, with the end just in sight. Thirty-nine, forty, forty-one, forty-two, balance... And finally, I reached the tree at the end of the line.

Pushing my Limits

Achieving the send was euphoric. I never felt that much adrenaline in my life until that moment, and I immediately knew I had to find a way to push for harder goals. I began to research, and I discovered there was a highline festival being held in Moab, Utah in November 2022. I immediately began the planning, buying plane tickets, a harness, and camping gear. I didn't think twice about my fear of heights, and I felt like after sending the 100-foot line, I could accomplish anything.

When I arrived at the festival parking lot, I was already mesmerized by how gorgeous the desert appeared. It was in the middle of nowhere, miles from the nearest town, with not a trace of civilization in sight. I felt an intoxicating mixture of fear and exhilaration as I began my two- mile hike to the canyon where the event took place. On that hike, seeing nothing but desert plants and animal life, I felt truly liberated from the boundaries of society, as if I had escaped to a world untouched by humans. When I finally reached the canyon, I was nothing short of stunned by the natural beauty of the landscape, but the scene was disrupted by the dozens of slacklines strung up across the canyon.

Initially, I assumed everything set up was temporary, but it didn't take me long to realize that every slackline was attached to permanent metal bolts drilled into the rock face. I found myself torn between two conflicting truths: these bolts were my lifeline, ensuring my safety on the highline, but also represented an undeniable intrusion on the otherwise untouched landscape. I realized that the sport has a paradox at its heart: high lining fosters a deep connection with nature but also leaves an irreversible mark upon it.

Becoming a Climber

Several months after the festival, I entertained other uses of the harness I purchased by rock climbing. I registered for a membership at a local climbing gym, assuming that climbing would help my fitness and improve my slacklining skills. As time passed, I became increasingly hooked on rock climbing, and in 2024, I began to set my sights on climbing on real rocks outdoors. After talking with a few experienced climbers at the gym, they decided to let me join them on an outdoor climbing trip in July 2024.

I drove almost seven hours to Jackson Falls, Illinois. Hiking from the parking lot to the crag, I once again was reminded of the paradox I saw with slacklining. I was taken aback by the sheer beauty of the forest with its rock cliffs and flowing waterfalls, but I discovered that scattered across almost every rock face were metal bolts installed for climbing. As I began climbing and my fingers searched for tiny edges and crevices worn smooth by generations of climbers before me, I started thinking deeply about how climbing had impacted the landscape. Every time I clipped my rope to a bolt, I thought about how my life depended on something so intrusive.

As I took more outdoor trips, I became more aware of the impact my presence had on the environment. Trails eroded beneath my feet, chalk stained the once-pristine stone, and the echoes of climbers calling out commands cut through the silence of places once untouched by human noise.

Impacts on the Land

One day, while exploring the climbing areas of Pictured Rocks, Iowa, I came across a section of rock that had been heavily bolted for sport climbing. The bolts were spaced unnaturally close together, creating an overabundance of metal where only a few bolts were necessary. I overheard a conversation between two veteran climbers nearby: one argued that bolting was essential for accessibility and safety, the other argued that overuse had marred the rock's natural state. Their debate mirrored the thoughts that had been growing within me, forcing me to confront my own role in the degradation of the natural landscape.

As my experiences grew, so did my understanding of the broader implications of climbing's expansion. The debate over bolting is not just about aesthetics; it is also about ethics, conservation, and respect for the land. Some argue that bolting allows for more climbers to safely experience outdoor climbing, fostering appreciation for nature. Others argue that excessive bolting disrupts not only the rock but also the ecosystems that surround it. Birds that once nested in high alcoves are driven away by the steady influx of climbers, plant life is trampled underfoot, and once-secluded areas are now regulated to grant human access. At what point does the search for deeper immersion in nature justify its transformation and how can climbers, myself included, better advocate for responsible practices?

Revisiting the Send

In July 2022, I stood trembling at the midpoint of a 100-foot slackline in Dellwood Park with the fear of failure and injury clouding my mind. That summer day marked a turning point in my relationship with the outdoors. It taught me not only how to face personal fear, but also how deeply tied our experiences are to the environments that host them. As I ventured deeper into highlining and eventually rock climbing, I realized that the two sports faced the paradox that they build an intimate bond between humans and nature while simultaneously altering nature permanently.

While writing the narrative on this ethical conundrum, I began to wonder. How have scholars, environmentalists, and the outdoor community addressed these issues? What solutions or further problems have been studied? To gain more perspective, I began to look into academic research on the topic.

Initial Literature Review

Firstly, it is important to understand exactly what bolting is to grasp its effect on the environment. A bolt is a semi-permanent metal rod struck into a natural rockscape that climbers use as a safety precaution when climbing natural rock. Climbers use a "quickdraw" (two carabiners attached by a piece of nylon webbing) to catch them before they hit the ground if they slip and fall, using the bolt as an anchor point. A piece I discovered written by Andrea Manes, a Department of Mechanical Engineering professor from Politecnico di Milano University in Milan, Italy, describes equipment used by climbers to guarantee their safety. "Several types of rock-climbing protection devices are currently used, such as bolts (adhesive and friction expansion rock anchors), pitons, passive devices (tapers and camming chocks/nuts) and active devices (spring loaded camming devices also known as frictional anchor and called "friends" or "cams" in climber's jargon)," (245). Manes extends on these terms, describing how each one is installed and used. In my experience and observations, pitons are the most common type of bolt used by climbers in North America and Europe. "Pitons are anchor devices that can be placed inside cracks using a hammer. Generally they are built with a blade [...] with a lug on one for a karabiner to be clipped in," (248-249). This specific form of bolting causes much concern in the climbing community regarding its ethical purpose in permanently disfiguring rock and making once beautiful rockscapes look littered and destroyed.

A piece written by Mark Colyvan, titled "Ethics, Morality and Rockclimbing", offers distinctions between sport climbers and traditional climbers. He explains traditional climbers focus on keeping natural rock formations intact when alternative protection sources exist (like slinging webbing or rope around boulders or trees), while sport climbers are "more prepared to bolt and to chip holds," (2) which is "immature with respect to an environmental ethic," (2). Despite these differences, Colyvan elaborates and explains that traditional and sport climbers may have the same ethics when it comes to routes that cannot be protected without bolts: "If a sport climber were to place a number of bolts on a good quality new route, and so long as the bolts were not clippable from a nearby naturally protected route, then I suggest that the traditional climbers would have no disagreement with the sport climber," (2). Even though the act of bolting would contest the traditional climber's ethics, they would agree with sport climbers as long as the bolts are necessary for route access. It is important to recognize the differing opinions and ideas of climbers in the community when it comes to bolting, as it demonstrates the ethics of this practice has been a longstanding issue even within groups of climbers.

During my dig for different ideas and opinions on this topic, I discovered a piece written by Paolo Vitali regarding his experiences with bolting in the Alpine Mountains. Vitali believes that the impact on the environment does not outweigh the safety of the climber in dangerous settings. "I have come to realize that a sensible use of bolts can eliminate almost all (but not quite all) the risks of a fatal fall," (182). He adds to this statement, writing, "...adventure in the mountains does not, for me, involve playing a game of chance with my life," (182). Many climbers throughout the world hold these same ideas, prioritizing needs of safety over preservation of the environment. Vitali explains that the use of high-quality bolts for belay points that will last generations is a better solution than old, rusted bolts that litter walls on different routes. "I believe that, with a mixture of experience and good judgement, one can use bolts responsibly, never employing them where they would be unnecessary..." (182). I empathize with Vitali's view in this writing. Other climbers and I value our own and our peers' safety. Good bolts not only protect the one who implanted it, but those who come after to climb and enjoy the sport as well.

Realizing that bolting is necessary to keep climbers safe, I decided to look for sources more in line with the environmental impacts of climbing. This led me to the paper "An Investigation of the Ecological and Social Impacts Caused by Rock Climbers." by Aram Attarian. This paper studied the soil, vegetation, wildlife, visual, rock, and 'other' impacts in fourteen of the most popular US rock climbing areas. Attarian found that 71% of the areas "reported some observable damage to soil as a result of climbers seeking access to climbing areas," (3). Additionally, 57% of the areas report vegetation damage, occurring due to off trail hiking and from using trees as anchors, and 43% of the areas reported concerns over wildlife. Attarian cites studies that indicate that the encounters reported by climbers result in a negative effect on "population densities, feeding and migration patterns, and diversity of wildlife," (5). Additionally, he writes that the rock that climbers use is often a remote face used as a habitat for raptors, especially peregrine falcons, prairie falcons, and golden eagles. Finally, 78% of the areas reported a variety of social impacts, which refers to noise (from radios, power drills, or rock hammers), shiny hardware (bolts, pitons, and carabiners), brightly colored software (clothing, webbing, rope), chalk marks on rock, and litter from climbers. To counteract these impacts, areas have been attempting to educate visitors on proper use and conduct. One important thing to note is that according to Attarian, observations of the impacts lacked any supporting empirical evidence. Climbers may not have been the sole cause for all these impacts, and there possibly may have been other contributing factors.

Shifting the Focus

Initially, I focused my ideas on the emotional conflict I felt when encountering bolts in nature. However, researching scholarly work shifted my focus toward a broader question. How can outdoor recreational communities, especially climbers and slackliners, better balance their personal pursuits with genuine environmental conservation? I realized that the debate isn't simply about whether bolts are "good" or "bad." Instead, it's about recognizing the nuanced decisions involved in protecting landscapes while making them accessible and identifying better alternatives to push for in the future.

Continuing Research

Michela Stinson, a graduate from the University of Waterloo in Ontario, Canada, wrote a thesis concerned with the same issues. She believes that the practices of climbers and outdoor explorers are backed by environmentally conscious beliefs. In her research she states, "Focus on reducing damage to the environment (or an externalized nature) is frequently mentioned as being a primary focus of many climbers, and one that climbers are 'more skilled at mitigating' than non-climbers," (34-35). In other words, Stinson finds that those further immersed in naturalist sports are much more likely to value nature and conservation than the average person. She continues, stating that knowledge and experience is important in how a person values the environment, "Climbers frequently position themselves as more environmentally-conscious, better stewards, and as engaging in more sustainable practices than non-climbers- these behaviors tend to correlate with years of experience," (114). Stinson makes it clear that she believes most climbers in the community have strong morals and ethics in their practices, and what really makes or breaks the argument comes down to education; how much experience a person has in outdoor adventure and exploration. I agree with Stinson, in that all climbers, new or experienced, should be educated on the importance of conservation and protection of the land we use in our practices.

Other than education and mindfulness for the environment's sake, it is important to know the value of the land to natives. Most land in North America has some cultural importance to it, and it is vital for non-native rock climbers to understand it. David Rozul, a fellow passionate rock climber and communications specialist based in Tempe, Arizona, wrote a literate piece reflecting the importance of respecting indigenous lands. Rozul attended a Phoenix REI event where he met Ashleigh Thompson, an anthropology PhD student and member of the Red Lake Ojibwe. "She emphasized that land is important to Tribal nations even if it's not on a reservation or designated as Tribal land. There is an Indigenous history tied to all of the ground we walk on," (Rozul 2020). Thompson had explained that most land is sacred and has specific practices and ceremonies tied to it. Thompson states it is important for climbers and non-natives to know the importance of the land they walk on, and to understand some history and background behind it. She shares tips on how to go forth in enjoying and sharing indigenous lands, including hiring native guides, practicing good stewardship, and being respectful to others who use the lands. By using these practices in new areas, climbers will not only protect the land for nature's sake, but also the cultural history and importance to its natives.

Findings

Through my research, I have learned that climbers and outdoor explorers do not typically bolt and alter the environment negligently. It is found that those who practice outdoor sports educate themselves and use their experience to show extra care for the environment compared to the average person. I also learned how important it is for explorers who do tend to practice farther from their homeland to learn about where they are going, how the land is appreciated and used by natives, and what using the land means on a cultural level. In most cases, natives are cordial in sharing their lands for the experience of others, however they may be disgruntled at careless practices.

Beth Baker, a freelance writer and editor, featured in large publications such as The Washington Post, and BioScience, explains the importance of educating new climbers on ethical practices. In this piece, Baker argues the solution to the issue: "[...] continue to conduct research, educate the public about rock climbing's impact, and restrict access to the more pristine cliff communities," (Baker 1999). In other words, the issue doesn't come down to the bolts themselves, but the lack of care toward the land climbers use and the nature surrounding it. The best way to combat this issue is by educating both new and experienced climbers, using permit systems in well-known and preserved cliff areas and by encouraging research on the area the climber is set to climb in.

Conclusion

Following this research, I intend on raising awareness regarding conservation while outdoor climbing starting at my local climbing gym, and I also intend on contacting land management for nearby outdoor climbing areas, such as Pictured Rocks, Iowa, and Jackson Falls, Illinois to ask about opportunities to raise awareness. I also vow to be more conscious of the impact my practices have on the environment, local wildlife, and cultures. A push for natural conservation education should be made, especially in areas like climbing gyms and sports stores that include camping gear and equipment for outdoor climbing. With the popularity and accessibility of outdoor sports increasing, education and ethics for the environment should be made available to not just climbers, but to hikers and other outdoor enthusiasts. By using ecofriendly products, minimizing the number of bolts and use of permanent equipment, avoiding littering, educating oneself of the land, and being conscious of wildlife, people can ensure that nature can be used for our enjoyment as well as being preserved for the long term.

Annotated Bibliography

Attarian, Aram. "An Investigation of the Ecological and Social Impacts Caused by Rock

Climbers." (1992).

This piece analyzes the ecological and social impacts of rock climbing in different parts of the country, including federal, state, local, and private parks. Using statistical data, Attarian found that there was a high impact of climbing in these parks, including damage to soil and vegetation, disruptions to local wildlife, and conservative concerns left by bolts in the rockface, rope, noisy climbers, etc. Attarian carries a lot of credibility in his source, as he is an Associate Professor at the North Carolina State University, conducting research and receiving data collected through surveys involving the general public who attend these parks. I decided to use this piece in my writing to involve the standpoint of the typical non-climber as to what their usual encounter with the climbing community and its impacts would be. The intended audience of this piece includes Attarian's students, general members of the public concerned about the impact rock climbers have, and scholars conducting research regarding these impacts.
Baker, Beth. "Controversy over use of rock-climbing anchors may be missing the mark."

BioScience 49.7 (1999): 529-529.

Colyvan, Mark. "Ethics, Morality and Rockclimbing." THE 6 (1993): 20-1.

Manes, A., and F. Cadini. "Assessment of the Ultimate Actual Strength of Rock-Climbing Protection Devices: Extraction Tests in the Field and the Human Capability to Predict the Ultimate Strength." Muscles, Ligaments & Tendons Journal (MLTJ) 10.2 (2020).
This piece, written by two professors in the Department of Mechanical Engineering at Politecnico di Milano University in Milan, Italy, describes different equipment used by climbers. They explain what different pieces of equipment are, using photographic references for the viewer, as well as data and statistics on failure loads. These two authors carry much credibility being engineering professors conducting thorough research and data collection. The intended audience includes students and scholars as well as climbers interested in studying and learning about failure loads in different types of equipment. I have decided to use this piece to describe the most common type of bolt in the outdoor climbing world and allow my viewers to refer to this piece for their own studies.
Rozul, David. "How to climb respectfully from an indigenous perspective." Sierra Club (2020).

Stinson, Michela Janelle. Beta and bolt hangers: An Actor-Network approach to storying the

Niagara Escarpment. MS thesis. University of Waterloo, 2019.

Stinson's piece was a thesis written for her Master's Degree from the University of Waterloo, 0ntario, Canada. As a fellow rock climber, Stinson writes about what climbing is, and also completed research about the impact climbing and bolting has on the environment. Stinson's credibility comes from both being a climber as well as a scholar doing similar research as me, also being why I decided to use her literature piece in mine. The intended audience for Stinson's thesis includes her professors at the University of Waterloo as well as peers also conducting research on climbers' ethics and bolting.

Vitali, P. A. 0. L. 0. "Bolting in the Alpine environment." Alpine Journal 102 (1997): 181-183.

This piece outlines the author's personal experiences rock climbing in the Alpine Mountains, as well as his own personal observations and research. Vitali describes his climbing experience, as well as his personal values and beliefs when it comes to bolting in historic mountainsides. His position on the argument of bolting in the climbing community is that he believes in its use, however disagrees with the unnecessary amount some climbers use. Vitali labels himself as a seasoned climber in the harsh Alpines, as well as his own experience in route-setting and bolting in natural stone. I decided to use this source as it is important to take into perspective the other side of the argument and hearing it from a peer in the climbing community. The intended audience for this piece includes people like me, experienced climbers who have ethical questions regarding the permanent alterations caused by bolting.