Bright Triumphs From Dark Hours: Turning Adversity into Success

5 Gary Guller: Shattering Stereotypes

To climb Everest is an intrinsically irrational act— a triumph of desire over sensibility. Any person who would seriously consider it is almost by definition beyond the sway of reasoned argument. —JON KRAKAUER, Into Thin Air 5 GARY GULLER: Shattering Stereotypes © gary guller The loss of an arm never prevented Gary Guller from scaling the world’s highest peaks. 89 MOUNT EVEREST HAS ALWAYS LOOMED LARGE in the minds of mountaineers. The jagged Himalayan peak, called Chomolungma (Goddess Mother of the Universe) by Tibetans, presents an incredible challenge for any experienced, able-bodied climber. Gary Guller had always dreamed of meeting that challenge. But, in 1986, he suffered a serious climbing accident that took his left arm. Undaunted, seventeen years later , he became the first person with one arm to scale the 29,035-foot peak. In the process, he led the largest cross-disability group to reach Everest’s base camp, at 17,500 feet. Not allowing the tallest mountain in the world to stand in his way, Guller’s accomplishments seem the stuff of myth. In the face of adversity , he shattered the stereotype that having a disability diminishes a life. This courageous combatant reminds us that bright triumphs can emerge from the darkest hours—even if they come one determined footstep at a time. Born on September 7, 1966, the son of a British mother and a U.S. airman stationed overseas, Guller spent his early years in England. After his father mustered out of the military, the family relocated to Georgia. Shortly thereafter, his mother was forced to abandon an abusive marriage , moving seven-year-old Gary and his brother Richard, ten, to North Carolina. There, she subsequently met and married Jeff Guller, a successful attorney, who adopted the two boys. As a youngster, Gary excelled at junior tennis, attempting to emulate his idol, Bjorn Borg. But more than sports, he loved the outdoors— exploring the Carolina countryside. During the summer of 1979, family friends invited him on a camping trip through the Rocky Mountains. 90 bright triumphs “That trip,” he says today, “introduced me to forces that would set my direction: the irresistible pull of high mountains, wild places, other lands, and the addictive weightlessness of nomadic life.” From his early teens, Guller dreamed of pursuing a career reconnoitering the pinnacles of the world. He dedicated himself to learning the craft of mountaineering and mastered various climbing schools— including the rigorous National Outdoor Leadership School—where he was taught the basics of roped glacier travel, self-arrest, and rock climbing . He also learned when to avoid unnecessary risks. In the climbing game, the difference between life and death is narrow. As he took on technically more difficult ascents, Guller understood the perils of making the wrong move. With an almost relentless efficiency, he began ticking off some of the most formidable heights in North America. Piling up climbing feats in a short span of years, Guller set his sights on even bigger challenges: the larger, more exotic and distant peaks of South America. In 1986, the twenty-year-old adventurer convinced three college friends, all experienced climbers—Dave Cianciulli, Jerry Webster, and Steve Brown—to join him in attempting to scale Pico de Orizaba, Mexico’s highest peak. After a “tequila-soaked trip” from Nogales, Arizona , to the village at the base of the mountain, the fearless foursome were mesmerized by the harsh beauty and isolation of the ice-sheathed pinnacle, white and dreamlike. Orizaba was considered a long, but not technically difficult, feat. “Laughably simple,” Guller had described the climb. The 18,800-foot mountain, however, was not a place to make mistakes. Just two weeks earlier, two German climbers had fallen to their deaths. The ascent began blissfully uneventful, although Brown dropped out because of altitude sickness. That morning, Guller, Cianciulli, and Webster pushed off in darkness, in clear weather with little wind. Disaster struck at 6 a.m. Just 100 feet from the summit, Cianciulli, in the lead position , lost his balance, slingshotting the entire team—tethered together— down the icy, boulder-ridden face. For mountaineers, the technical term for a long, scary fall is a “whipper .” Detailed contemplation of a whipper is called “being gripped”—as in gripped by fear. For experienced climbers, self-arrest is the preferred 91 gary guller : shattering stereotypes survival strategy. The idea is to get the ice axe...