All language subtitles for Chasing Great 2016 (Chasing Great 2016) (ENGLISH)

Hey, this is Becky.

This is Becky.

I've got 35 people.

Hey, listen.

I'm calling you over and over.

Hey, where are you, man?

Are you off on a loan
somewhere, an Apollo mission?

Hey, listen, I'm
really pissed off.

T-I-S-S-E-D.

I've got some free time
now, you know what I mean?

I have more free
time than money.

Try to give me a call
back as soon as you can.

Call me back if you can today.

Don't give me a
call back any time.

It's not gonna be that big of
a chunk of time in your life.

Fred Becky is an enigma.

There'll be Freudian
psychologists that will

analyze him long after
he's gone to the next world.

He's totally obsessive.

That's who Fred is.

You know, obsessive behavior
can lead to absolute genius.

There's so many urban myths.

And legends that surround
who Fred Becky really is.

He was driven like
nobody I've ever met.

Relentlessly.

One track mind most of the time.

If it wasn't on women,
it was on climbing.

Fred chose this other lifestyle.

He created his own culture.

He became a culture of one.

I suppose you could say he's like
the Bob Dylan of mountain climbing.

All these great achievements,
but completely inscrutable.

And no one's really sure
if they even like him or not.

He's a dirtbag.

And because of
that, I don't think he'll

get the recognition
that he really deserves.

I don't even really know what
motivates a person to climb.

To me, it's some kind of a
combination of adventure that

has a certain amount of risk,
depending on other people.

Almost any climb
has some uncertainty.

You never know.

There could be a
rockfall, an avalanche.

Somebody can get hurt.

So there's a certain
amount of adventure.

I mean, some people
may think it's an adventure

to go on a cruise ship
to the Mediterranean.

I mean, that's great
if they want to do that.

To me, it's no adventure at all.

Unless somebody bombs the ship.

Yeah, good climbing today.

Good climbing.

Yeah, I enjoyed it.

I really did.

Hope I didn't fuck
you guys' movies up.

Is there anything more
important to you than climbing?

It's hard to say.

It's hard to say.

I like to write and
accomplish something.

If I should have brought a pencil with
an eraser, that would have fucked up.

I should know better.

How is it that you can
climb as well as you do still?

Really, what's the secret?

I don't know.

I don't think I have any.

I don't know.

I don't take vitamins and
I'm not a health food addict.

I just try to keep active.

I was drawn to Becky in my book, The
Good Rain, because he's a mythic figure.

There are very few mountains left in
the world that nobody's ever climbed.

And in the climbing world, to be credited
with a first ascent, being the first human

being to climb a mountain,
is considered quite a big deal.

It's hard to imagine anyone in North
America starting to do any form of

climbing and not soon
hear about Fred Becky.

His name is everywhere.

This is a guy from the Pacific
Northwest, and he climbed

all over the United States,
in Europe, in Canada.

He was there before
the rest of us were.

Certainly no person in
the history of climbing

has ever amassed
so many first ascents.

What makes Fred special
in my book is his unending

quest for new routes, to
do something unknown.

His contemporaries, say
in the 1950s and the 1960s,

those people ended up on
the Comfort of Life magazine.

That was, to me, has been
one of the great mysteries.

Why did the best climber of all never
go on to the greatness that they all did?

He's the ultimate dirtbag.

He was the first
dirtbag I ever knew.

And, you know, we all became
dirtbags eventually, but he was the leader.

Because he climbed so much, he didn't
ever work at a job like nine to five,

you know, five days a
week like most people.

In the Alps, there was a tradition of
dressing up formally for alpine climbing.

And Fred, he looked
like somebody that just

came out of a homeless
shelter or someplace.

They had his own style to climb.

There was no doubt about that.

He was different.

He had a pink Thunderbird,
and we all wondered, what

kind of vehicle is that to
load climbing gear into?

We couldn't understand it.

That T-bird did not give him good
mileage, but it got a lot of laughs.

And, of course, it was the
ultimate pick-up car for women.

I just bought the
car, and I went.

It was kind of a joke.

It was a good road car, actually,
but a little bit of a gas eater.

And I drove it all over the country
just to put 100,000 miles on it.

We have a whole culture of dirtbagism
and road tripping in North America,

and Fred's the
grandfather of it.

He's the grandfather
of the road trip.

The legends about him driving halfway
across the western continent, you know,

to do a pinnacle in Arizona and then to do
some climb in British Columbia and then go

back to Montana for another
climb, those are all true.

That's what he did.

You know, a lot of people,
a climbing trip is too weak.

Fred would start off in the spring, climb
through the summer in the mountains,

the high peaks, wind
rivers and other places,

and then in the fall
wind up in the desert.

There's a constant motion Makes you feel
like the ocean Moving through the seasons

And I'm hoping for the day Just so
restless and always living out of his car.

The second home for a
while was my basement.

Climbing actually doesn't
cost that much money.

Especially the way Fred plays it, it
doesn't have to be that expensive.

Food is really available in North
America if you know where to look for it.

You know, we go to
restaurants and he'd pick up ten

packages of ketchup and
sugar and stuff them away.

Make up the eggs.

Put a little
McDonald's sugar here.

Breakfast sandwich.

Nice.

All of us kind of look at Fred going,
God, how can we get a piece of that?

How can we get that fountain of
youth that lies within Fred Becky?

And I don't really know what it is
other than just his spirit and his mindset.

Because if you watch
him eat, he eats like shit.

He eats tons of fast food.

He doesn't drink,
he doesn't smoke.

But he'll hang on to a
piece of food for weeks

and pull it out of his
backpack and eat it.

So I got some cream cheese that I
swiped somewhere and it's edible.

Is that edible?

I remember driving with him in
the car on a road trip somewhere

and I took the empty McDonald's
coffee cup and threw it away.

And real quickly, Fred started questioning,
you know, have you seen my cup?

I had a cup around here.

He proceeded for the next five hours
to look for the cup, talk about the cup,

bitch about the cup.

At McDonald's, you get free
refills with an empty coffee cup.

He's been hanging on to that cup for,
who knows, probably most of the summer.

Fred had this sport coat
that he bought for 25 cents.

He stuffed pieces of this Louis Lemora
novel that he was reading, stuffing it

inside the liner, made a
down jacket out of it basically.

He bivouacked in
that and then the next

morning burned the
thing to heat up some tea.

He is the ultimate, the
consummate dirtbag.

You know, living as
unobtrusively, you know, on the

edge of society as it's
possible for a human to do.

And to still have a
focus on something.

I mean, he was not a druggie
or a drunk or anything like that.

He was an addict.

But his addiction was climbing.

Once again, Fred Becky had a
mountain that was unclimbed, scoped out.

And a lot of people
said before the trip, well,

you know, is he going
to be able to do it?

What happens if Fred Becky dies?

And I think we all just
kind of laughed and

said, Fred's going to
do it with or without us.

Where is this village?

From Convict.

It's around there, two hours.

Right here?

Of the unclimbed challenging things,
I think you're looking at Pakistan,

China, Greenland.

China alone has just
got a wealth of beautiful

unclimbed peaks in the
5,000, 6,000 meter range.

Hardly anybody knows about them.

I think it's a 13 years dream.

I couldn't believe that, you
know, Fred will come back.

Now he's 83 years old.

You're recording all this?

You guys got
some first aid stuff?

I do have a roll of duct tape.

I got lunch food.

I got a lot of lemon powder.

Lemon powder?

Anyone that's ever taken
an international third world trip

into the mountains knows
how brutal the travel can be.

You excited to get into
the mountains, Fred?

Don't get too excited.

You're wearing your
pants, you know.

How's your head feeling?

My thinking is that we don't want to
hurry it too much with the acclimatization.

I think we're in a pretty
comfortable spot at this point.

It seems to be doing okay.

And that's the goal is to get him as
rested as possible because it's a big push.

It's boring to go to the
mountains from the fifth

year of your life up to
the 90th year of your life.

This is boring.

I hope you're filming all this.

Reinhold Messner is largely
recognized as the best mountaineer ever.

The guy who climbed, you know,
every major peak without oxygen.

And there's this climbing
called Alpine style,

which is climbing quickly
and without oxygen.

And for that matter, without
supplemental expedition at your base.

Becky was doing that
when he was in his teens and

twenties and everybody else
is saying you need a group.

His experiences and his climbs, I
would say his ocean of what he did and

what is in his soul is so big
that he could give away forever.

Why he's going to China to hike up a
mountain, it's not necessary anymore.

It's much more
important and much more

intelligent that he uses
his last years to do so.

Something creative.

You think you can make it to
the summit, Fred, on this trip?

I don't know.

I hope so.

Did you get some good
sleep last night, Fred?

No.

No?

At least the
weather looks better.

Right now, it stops snowing.

You can see the mountain, yeah.

We got a window of opportunity
with the weather, it looks like.

Yeah.

Yeah, I hope it lasts.

Do you think you want
to go up tomorrow?

I haven't decided yet
what I'm going to go up.

I'm just not sure.

If I don't think I can keep
up, there's no point in it.

Yeah, get some sleep today.

Get some rest.

Seems like you're
feeling better.

Take your time up there.

All right.

Okay.

If you need an
extra day, take it.

Okay, Fred, we're going to
try and go early for the summit.

Just keep plugging away slow.

It's a hell of a job.

It was sad that Fred couldn't
get up there and climb with us

and do what he had done so
many times before in the mountains.

Fred was born in Germany, 1923.

My parents came to the
USA with my brother in 1924.

A good ten years before
Adolf Hitler got into power.

As kids, we were
together all the time.

That's my mother, and that's me in
the middle, Helmi, and there's Fred,

known at that time
as Wolfgang, or Wolf.

The neighborhood
kids kidded him around.

They laughed at him, you
know, because of his name, Wolf.

And then he changed
his name to Fred because

he didn't appreciate
being laughed at.

He went into the Boy Scouts,
and they went hiking and climbing.

We did some small
peaks in the Olympics.

I liked it.

I had a good time.

I enjoyed it.

And I felt it was a lot more
fun than doing any team sports.

And it kind of appealed to me.

It was kind of fun.

And I think just one
thing led to another.

There's a glacial
boulder in Seattle.

It has about six or
seven climbing routes.

And I started a little climbing
class for the older boys.

It was there that Fred and
I struck up our friendship.

By 1938, we were beginning
to do climbs in the Cascades.

I met some people of my
own age who were taking

the course, and we
went on trips of our own.

You started to see a new kind of
mountaineering in the Northwest.

Maybe three or four climbers going out on
much more adventurous, remote trips than

their predecessors had done, and really
starting to explore all throughout the

Northwest and in the Cascades where
Fred really devoted a lot of his energy.

The only real alpine mountains in
lower 48 are in the Pacific Northwest.

So they had this playground, like a
mini-Himalaya, right in their backyard.

When Fred started way
back when, a lot of those

beautiful peaks never had
anybody on their summits.

The first ascent, we
went to Mont Desper.

Probably today's climbers, even the very
most skilled ones, don't have a real deep

feeling of what it's like to try a
route that nobody's ever been on.

Fred was talking about
his climbing, talking,

talking, talking, and he
dragged me along, you know.

1940.

Here are some pictures of the first
ascent we made of Forbidden Peak.

That was my first, first ascent.

Scary.

Frightening.

What did your parents think
about you and Fred climbing?

I don't think they knew how dangerous
things got sometimes, or how scary it was.

I think they understood that there was
some danger out there, but there wasn't

much they could do
about it, except forbid us

to go, and that wouldn't
have worked either.

Yeah, I probably had
pretty independent, yeah.

I don't think of any kids 17
and 19 that would take off

from Mount Waddington when
they were still in high school.

Uh-uh.

Uh-uh.

The second ascent of Mount Waddington,
which Fred and Helmy did when they were

19, and 17 years old,
that's a hard route today.

It's probably been climbed
less than 10 times total.

Waddington was a huge challenge
for North American mountaineers.

The best Sierra Club climbers
went up there and tried it.

And then it was finally done
by Fritz Feastern, who was

considered the leading
climber in the United States.

It's mind-blowing to think that these two
teenage boys from Seattle spent a month

and a half in the absolute
wilderness of British Columbia.

I still can't even remember.

I remember how
we put that together.

We must have somewhere
taken a bus out to a big grocery

store and bought all the
groceries for six weeks.

That's a lot of groceries.

We made a menu
up, then we repeated it.

They had it all figured out, little
squares, packed it up in cloth bags.

So if you had a cloth bag, you know there
was everything you needed for three days.

We would never have
gotten that trip off the ground

if it hadn't been for
Don Mundy and his wife.

They set us up with a
guy who had a fishing boat,

and he took us to the head
of 900 and dropped us off.

Adios.

We spent maybe two weeks
relaying back and forth loads.

This is ferocious bushwhacking
through coastal temperate

forests with downfall the
size of telephone poles.

They've actually called
Waddington the mystery mountain

because for a long time it
was a blank spot on the map.

If it had gone horribly wrong, it's
hard to say if they'd even ever be found.

I once fell into a crevasse.

My brother essentially grabbed
me by the collar and pulled me out.

And that could have been the end of
the trip, the end of more than the trip.

At the very, very, very top,
Fred did the leading, you know.

Right at the word, really hairy.

Scared, frightened.

I don't know about Fred,
he never mentioned it to me.

I was.

You just don't look
down, you know.

You just don't.

Spent the night essentially on
the summit, a few feet below.

Must have been shivering.

All we had was sweaters.

I had my 17th birthday
on top of the Waddington.

Hope we live through the night.

We didn't sleep, we just
sweated it out, you know.

Coming down was more
dangerous than going up because

we were coming down and
they lay down on the ground.

It was the afternoon and by then snow
and ice on the ledges had loosened up.

Rocks were coming down.

My brother got hit on the knee.

God, that hurt like
holy hell, I'll tell you.

Thank God I didn't
get hit on the head.

This is the second
ascent of what was at that

time the hardest alpine
climb in North America.

Two teenage boys walk up, do
that, and the whole world shifts.

It sucks the feet
out from under all the

men because men are
trying to do this thing.

We were a little bit surprised
ourselves that we managed to pull it off.

We got our pictures in the
Seattle newspaper that big.

Unless you're Robert Bank, it's kind
of hard to get your picture in the paper.

During the early years,
they were inseparable.

It was during the epic
Waddington expedition that Helmy

sustained a rock fall on
his knee and injured it badly.

Ever since then, Fred
and Helmy drifted apart.

Helmy ended up going to Europe and
he became a successful opera singer.

But once Helmy stopped
climbing with Fred, Fred

no longer took any
interest in Helmy's life.

They rarely saw each other.

Our relationship deteriorated
because he continued to climb.

And I did not climb anymore.

Fred was 42 when
the war was on then.

Fred had to go in the army.

He was in the mountain troops.

He was instructing
climbers and skiers.

He didn't have to go
to Europe and fight.

What did you do in the army?

Very little.

I was in the mountain training
corps, taught snowshoeing.

I don't know what there
is to teach, but, you

know, I spent a half
time freezing your butt off.

I spent more time on a
railroad than I did anywhere else.

That's going from
place to place.

He was discharged before
the division went overseas.

I don't know whether it
was a medical or what.

And he never talked
to you about that?

Never talked about it.

When I climb a window Down the wall to
the ground below What you're doing Where

you're going Where you end
up when the morning comes

I think that I have to go to my
cobwebs and my little peanut-sized brain.

The next biggest thing I did was get
together with Cliff Schmincke and Bob

Craig and went to Kiss
Needle in Devil's Hound.

I think that's the
biggest thing I did.

Fred had read somewhere in the Sierra
Club Journal about this great mountain.

I certainly didn't know
about Devil's Hound.

But Fred was an encyclopedia of available
mountains that hadn't been climbed.

I was just out of the
Navy, and Fred called me.

Everything is all set.

We've got lots of
food up on the glacier.

Come up to Wrangell,
Alaska, and I'll meet you.

And we'll go up the Chiquine
River and make this climb.

Typical Fred enthusiasm and
not very much more detail than that.

He and Schmincke said they agreed to
come up in about a week the next boat.

Several parties had tried Kiss Needle,
but nobody had tried Devil's Hound.

Waiting out the weather, we
eventually climbed Kiss Needle.

We made three attempts on Devil's
Hound and had to retreat twice.

And on the third attempt,
we got to the summit.

And we were running out
of food down at our camp.

We're cooking some of the
last remaining food we had.

Fred handed me this bag,
which I thought were beans.

And I poured it into the pan
and we melted some snow.

And I suddenly looked
and I said, Fred, these

beans don't have anything
in them except maggots.

Where did this come from?

He said, well, Helmy and
I had it on Waddington.

So we ate this stew
of beans and maggots.

We were pretty
hungry at that point.

Fred was lively and
addictive and very outgoing.

There's some sort
of magnetism there.

He burned through women
like a gypsy went through horses.

He has a real soft place
in his heart for women.

He's called Dirty Blonde.

There's a certain kind of girl
that frequented roller skating rinks,

roller dames, rink rats.

I know guys that wouldn't introduce them to
their women or let them stay in their home.

Beware of Becky.

He'll steal your women,
he'll steal your climes.

Is that true, you think?

Oh, yeah.

He's had a lot of girlfriends.

And he does it with that same tenacious
quality that he does his climbing.

He met this very attractive woman by the
name of Vasiliki skiing at Stevens Pass.

And they hit it off.

Vasiliki was her name.

She actually
called herself Betty.

She came from a
Greek background.

Fred named a series
of rock spires, not only

after her, but also
after her favorite drinks.

It's an honor, I guess.

He put me on the map.

What can I say?

That's wonderful.

This has been over 50 years now that
people have said, are you the Vasiliki?

Yes.

Well, I've climbed you.

And I said, oh, okay.

When I asked him about
that, his face was startled.

I mean, it's like I
caught him in something.

He goes, how did
you know about her?

She was the one, the
one great love of his life.

Turns out she marries one of the
most famous people in the Northwest,

Bill Dwyer, a federal judge.

Vasiliki chose the judge
instead of the dirt bag climber.

But I guess you can't blame her.

Maybe it's a good thing that she turned
him down because Fred would have actually

gone for it and not kept climbing
cutting edge routes for another 50 years.

He was a very interesting man to me,
not because he was a mountain man,

but because he was so well read and
he used to give me old books of poetry.

He was a different
sort of creature.

He moved more
than a gypsy, I think.

He was just gone.

But he'd come back to write.

I liked that sense
of freedom to go.

He was not free
from his passion.

But he was free from everyday things that
the rest of the people are involved in.

And he just was
driven to this way of life.

Do you think you'll
ever get married?

Yeah, sometime I should.

I should try it out.

Yeah.

What would be the
perfect... I don't know.

I am the daughter of Scotty, who was
a girlfriend of Fred's for several years.

Probably around 49 to 52.

1950, they went on a
trip to Europe together.

My mother said she was going
to go skiing and ran off to France.

And then at some point, Fred
came back and my mom stayed on.

When they broke up,
my mom and Fred went to

the court to separate
their personal items.

So who knows, you
know, did they elope?

This is probably
the most significant

relationship in her life
before she met my dad.

Even years later, after my mom
was married to my dad, Fred would

call sometimes and I think
try to get her to run off with him.

Yeah, he always
had women in his life.

Rarely had the same
one for a very long time.

Sybil was one of the exceptions.

He invited me to go on lots of climbs
and just hang around base camp, which with

Fred, a week-long trip would
usually morph into three months.

Now, some things that people don't
know about Fred is he likes opera.

He likes libraries.

Fred did have some tenderness
and romanticness in him.

Everybody knows Fred
has a strong personality and

consequently we had a lot of
fireworks and a lot of sparks.

We just kind of drifted apart
and back together and apart.

And I think what he wanted
was a satisfying playmate.

A good number of years, he
was living in my townhouse.

Quite often he would bring lady friends
over and I could hear Fred talking about

the most personal
issues in his life, which he

would never think of
doing with his best friends.

Here was this very secretive and reclusive
legend who was opening up his innermost

feelings to these women that he's
only going to see for a few days.

I wish some of those women would have
had a tape recorder and just recorded it

because it would have
made interesting reading.

You got me sorry.

Real sorry.

I guess Phoenix
just plugged this girl.

Oh, I do.

It screws me up too because
he can't go climbing now.

You guys go
ahead if you want to.

I got to get some water.

I don't know why
you're thinking movies.

I'm just climbing like shit.

All climbers know about his
climbing accomplishments.

And he has probably
made four first ascents in

North America than any
other climber ever will.

But there's another side to
Fred that I think is very interesting.

And that is that
he is a scholar.

He must have spent thousands
of hours in libraries researching.

Even a college professor could hardly
get out that amount of work in a lifetime.

Well, every time somebody opens up
a guidebook in an area where Becky's

climbed, they're going to be
following his footsteps, like it or not.

Becky's Cascade Alpine
Guide, that was like our Bible.

Every week we'd pick out something,
where we wanted to go, what we wanted to

climb, and we'd have Becky's book
with us and we'd memorize what he said.

You know, very detailed information about
not only how to get there, what moves to

make, what equipment to
bring, how long it would take.

The attention to
detail was amazing.

And the fact that he did most of the climbs
that he wrote about is even more amazing.

The guy knows more
about the mountains of

North America than
anyone that's ever lived.

You can't go climbing with Fred Becky
without Fred having a piece of paper

shoved into his pocket and some pens taped
around his neck on like a piece of string.

Sometimes the most inopportune times
you hear him shout, hold on a second,

and you look down and he's in the middle
of a pitch, like scribbling notes about

some obscure section
of like an obscure pitch.

Kind of a big ledge.

Trees growing right.

What are these, what
are these, mahogany?

Got three bolts up there?

Yep, three bolts.

He's like a mad scientist.

He doesn't know
what he's wearing.

He doesn't care if there's
stains on his clothes.

Fred has one focus, which is climbing and
documenting, climbing through his topos.

You went out here to
kind of like a little ramp.

Yeah.

There was a block
and you stepped.

Yep, yep.

I still remember that.

I stuck here and
you went up here.

Yep.

Okay.

Either one's a bummer.

I'm a 155 foot fish.

And he has all of those notes cataloged
in the Fred-Becky way, shoved into closets

and shoe boxes and FedEx
envelopes in his house.

I got about 90 topos at
home on different routes.

And I got them all glued together so I can
carry them around and show them to people.

Uh-huh.

I got them all organized
by state or area, you know.

Wow.

Whatever.

The amount of data that, you know, it's
almost like Fred-Becky the supercomputer.

There was an
encyclopedia of climbing.

It's really, it's
inside of his head.

Okay.

Go up this crack.

About 20 feet.

You'll see it.

And cut out the right.

It's very obvious.

You look up there,
you'll see a giant horse.

It looks like a dog head.

You know.

Cut the right.

You'll see the gully.

You can't miss it.

You'll have fun.

So did you ever study
writing techniques?

Or did you... No.

Believe it or not, I never did.

Really?

Never took a fucking course.

Okay.

All right.

I think in taking a writing
course, it just fucked me up totally.

He chained himself to a desk at the Oregon
Historical Society trying to produce this

greater book about the
history of the Cascades.

I was all over.

National Archives
and you name it.

Probably every research
library in the East Coast.

I should have had a
girlfriend hanging around

with me to keep me
company doing all this stuff.

Did a range of glaciers do okay?

Not money wise, not for me.

The money has
never been very good.

It should have been.

I blame, I don't know
who to blame, the public.

The internet.

The books that are really selling
are these self-help books, Dr.

Phil, I'm okay, you're okay, you're not
okay, I'm okay, you're an idiot, you know,

how to improve yourself, how to
get, how to increase Increase your

sensibilities, how to make love,
how to make this, how to do that.

There's a whole shells
of them in Seattle.

Look at the... a whole...

eight feet high, that wide.

Self-help psychology, how to
improve this, how to improve...

Jesus Christ, there must be a
lot of people that are insecure.

There must be.

It's not my kind of thing.

You know, not at all.

But, I mean, I'm not
knocking it, great.

Good for Dr. Phil.

He's probably making ten
million dollars a year on that.

I'm trying to put
together a bit of a hybrid.

To kind of portray the
mountain or the route.

Access, route description,
summary, picture, map, topo.

All my friends say it'll go
over, but they're my friends.

So I'm not sure I
trust them, you know.

Originally, I had in mind the
name, 100 Classic Climbs.

That was the first
idea, and somewhere...

the last couple of years, I went bonkers
and forgot all about the numbers...

and just kept
writing and writing.

And the last time I have a
list of the climbs, I counted 137.

Can you believe it?

There's four climbs
when we started with him...

that he still hadn't been able to
do, but he wanted to put it anyway...

because they're such classics.

I feel very strongly...

I feel strongly that I
want to have done each of

these climbs, or made a
good solid attempt on it.

Tentatively, I've included them.

In fact, that's one reason
I can't really finish this

thing until the fall, as
far as totally finishing it.

This is an explanation, and part of this
is my idiosyncrasies involved in it, too.

I admit that.

I'd

like to do a Cinnaboy.

It's not a hard climb,
but it's interesting,

and kind of a big high mountain.

With a character like Becky,
going back becomes almost routine.

It almost becomes expected.

Well, if I miss it today, I'll go
back tomorrow, or next year.

I want to jump you in
and go to a Cinnaboy.

It's dry now, excellent
conditions, the weather's good.

This is the opposite
of trying to do it.

And let's get going on this.

He'd go back, and he'd
go back, and he'd go

back, and damn it,
eventually he'd get it done.

It's the most important
trip of the summer for

me, and I want to be
sure it does not fail.

I realize this is almost
impossible, short

notice, but I've done
stuff like that before.

Just jump on an airplane
to hell with it all and get out.

A lot of mountain climbing and
alpinism is mastering the art of suffering.

And a lot of it is torturous,
laborious, physical work.

I mean, it's hard, and it's uncomfortable,
and you're cold, and you're hungry,

and you're wet.

For a guy like Fred,
I'm sure within his first

decade, realize that he
was in love with the process.

Fred really enjoyed the
mountains, more than just,

let's say, making a first
ascent or something.

He truly loved being out there.

Fred Bickey is, in my opinion, a
poetic genius, where the poetry is the

beauty and wildness of unchanging
nature and the challenge of the heights.

It's hard to describe,
for me anyway.

You might call it a sense of awe, a
sense of amazement, a sense of...

it's a different view than
you get from the valley.

And it's a very
temporal one, obviously,

because you're not
going to be there very long.

You know, most city sports,
like football, you can quit.

If you're pooped
out, out you go.

When you're climbing, you're in the middle
of a wall somewhere, and the weather's

coming in, and you've
got a lot of commitment.

To me, there's an endless
beauty involved in these things.

And depending on the
conditions and the weather

and times, it's
changeable all the time.

I think there's a certain
satisfaction that builds up naturally.

Maybe even compared to winning a
ball game, there's a good feeling about it.

Different than going
to work every day, you

don't feel any better
after the end of the day.

At least I don't.

One of the things that Becky is really
bad at, and this is, to me, a virtue,

he lacks self-promotion.

Other people would have
not only entire lines of gear

with their name on it, he
would be a household name.

He had opportunities
to endorse products and

be on the back page of
every climbing magazine.

He never followed that
opportunity, because that would

compromise his real
ambition, and that was climbing.

In other words,
he was not for sale.

In his prime, he was the
consummate all-around climber.

He could climb rock as
good as anybody, if not better.

I've known a lot of
climbers, but he was singular.

Again, he had this drive
that was like the whole

universe is coming down
in a spiral at that point.

And that's Fred.

Fred Becky, climbing
leader of the party, at

30, one of America's
foremost mountaineers.

The year after the first ascent of Everest
in 1954, Fred Becky did the All-Star,

Grand Slam, Super Bowl,
World Series, Stanley Cup,

all wrapped into one
season in the Alaska range.

First ascent of Mount Deborah.

First ascent of Northwest.

The first buttress of Denali.

Pretty challenging route.

Seldomly climbed now.

And then the first
ascent of Mount Hunter.

Seventy miles of pack-out
after climbing a mountain.

But they're all smiling.

They have nearly won.

Behind them is the summit of
the north face of Mount McKinley.

20,000 feet of arctic
mountain climb.

A mountain beaten.

Whenever I think about, oh,
how badass am I right now?

It's like, I'm soft, I'm light
compared to Fred in 54.

If you were to be remembered by a
single climb, the most important or most

significant climb that you've
done, what would it be?

Probably Mount Deborah.

It's the one that
scared us the most.

I had heard about
Fred Becky before.

And then I had the chance
to climb this Fred Becky.

Really?

Yeah.

When you are in Europe and you climb in
the Alps, whatever you do has been done.

It's been done a few
hundred times before.

And when I was in Alaska, I
heard about unclimbed mountain.

Huh?

Okay, let's try.

Hydrocar had heard that we
were up there climbing on McKinley.

And we just sort of met up there in
Fairbanks and we just joined forces.

First ascension, you never know.

There's all these mysteries and, you
know, what's going to happen up there.

How difficult is it going to be?

You know, a lot of unknown.

You don't know exactly
what equipment you'll need.

You don't know where
the difficulties will be, how

hard it will be, what
the descent will be like.

And first ascents are
coveted because of that.

To do that in 1954, given the state
of the equipment that people had then,

given the methods that you would
use to get there, because this is a remote

wilderness, and the body of knowledge
then, I mean, that's phenomenal.

In 1963, when the American Everest
expedition went to the Himalayas,

Fred Becky was undoubtedly
the foremost climber in America.

And Norman.

Norman, when he was choosing the Everest
group, deliberately passed over Fred on

the theory that Fred
didn't play well with others.

In 63, he applied.

I said, Fred, no.

It was felt that Fred was
not as much of a team player.

And I sensed that some of that came from
what happened on that Lhotse expedition.

In 1955, I finally got the
permission for Lhotse,

the fourth highest mountain,
right next to Everest.

I had two Swiss, one
doctor, and I had three

Americans, and Fred
Becky was one of them.

I knew his reputation, and I read
in the American Alpine Journal.

I knew that he was a
good climber, yes, but I also

knew that he had never
been invited on an expedition.

There's some compromises
that you have to accept when

you go on a Himalayan
expedition with a big team.

You've got to accept that I
might not get a chance to go to

the top, I've got to be a team
player, I've got to contribute.

He didn't hit it off too
well with the others.

There were Austrians and Swiss.

The Europeans called them the
Polites, which means proletarian.

Ha!

He was a likable guy.

He was a good climber.

He meant well, but he
didn't always do the right

thing, and he left our
doctor at our high camp.

I was in a tent with Bruno
Spierig, who was a doctor.

He was a Swiss climber.

We were camped at
roughly 23,000 feet.

Wind picked up, and it
was really a bad storm.

The wind just tore the tent apart,
and Spierig started feeling bad.

Some of the party were camped.

I'd say about 1,500 vertical feet
below us, and there was a choice.

What was I going to do?

He left him alone and came down to
advanced space, and everybody was aghast.

They said, well, why
did you leave him alone?

He says, well, he didn't
even have a sleeping bag.

Sure, I could have stayed
there, but what could I do for him?

We had no radio communication.

I felt the best thing to do
was to go down and get help.

Help might have come up that
day or the next day, but who knows?

I felt it was more urgent.

The best policy was to
go down and get help and

then come back, and I
came back up with him.

The next morning, I went up with
my friend Angaba and Fred Becky,

and the three of us went up,
and we got him down, the doctor.

But ever since, they
couldn't figure out why

I didn't stay with him
or bring him down.

After this thing,
things changed.

It's a huge difference between
second-guessing somebody

and being there when you
have got to make that decision.

You have got to do this,
and these are the factors.

The first time I heard about
Fred was I was just a young kid.

He was a little different, but, you know,
nature is diverse, and so is humanity.

My life was more, I guess
you would say, structured.

And I would definitely say
that Fred's life was unstructured.

His contemporaries,
they founded companies.

They were like
movie stars for a while.

They were glamorous.

They were like the astronauts of
mountaineering, and Becky was left out.

To imagine Fred being the first American
to climb Everest and substituting him for

Whitaker, I can't imagine Fred
to be sort of the public persona.

Of the expedition, it's a hell of a
responsibility, and I'm glad it was Jim

who I think could
manage it and thrived on it.

Who was Whitaker other
than he climbed Everest?

But these are the guys that get to talk to
the President of the USA, and they're big

heroes, you know, because they're the
first Americans to climb Mount Everest.

I was never attracted
to any dirtbag style.

I wasn't that far
out of the box.

My whole life wasn't climbing.

It was Fred's
whole life, actually.

I wouldn't like to have
gone, I'm sure, but since I

wasn't invited, all right,
so you weren't, you know.

It's all right.

There's these pivot points in life
where you can go one way or the other.

Becky had about ten of
them, and at every turn,

he stayed in the
climber bum dirtbag lane.

He never turned off.

He never took the
exit to respectability.

He never took the
exit to an easy life.

He never took the exit
to branding Fred Becky.

Would he have liked to?

I mean, the
proof is in the life.

I can't say I've
had any regrets.

At least I haven't
thought about it.

I really don't like to dwell
back on the background.

You did what you
did and forget it.

You know, look forward
to it, to something new.

So he missed out on these
big expeditions, and these trips

at the time, it was what
professional climbers were doing.

You were either part of one of these big
trips or you were out there forging your

own path, and Fred
was forging his own path.

While the Everest expedition spent a
whole season climbing one peak and only a

handful made it to the top,
Fred spent the same amount of

time doing dozens of first
ascents all over North America.

You could take in isolation
probably a dozen Becky peaks.

Any of those dozen
would make a career.

But then expand
that by a factor of ten.

And Becky was just knocking
them off one after the other.

It was like, tell me a place that's
unclimbable and I'll be there on Saturday.

It was astonishing people.

In those early days, Fred seemed
to be climbing almost all the time.

In fact, many of us
wondered where he got all the

money because he never
seemed to have a job or work.

No one really knew much about
how he made his living or what he did.

He had no money.

I mean, he was working, I think,
as a paper salesman in those days.

When I first met him,
he sold insurance.

He usually had a company car.

He didn't work at all.

I don't quite know
how he did it.

Then the big rumor came along.

There was this
plane crash on Slessy.

And the rumor was that
there was all this gold aboard.

Fred was trying to get people
to go into Slessy with him.

Some of us began to think,
well, you know, maybe he

actually got in there and
got hold of that money.

And that's why he was able to,
you know, spend all his time climbing.

He put away money and we never will find
out how much, but he put it away in stocks.

How much do I
have on the market?

That's all?

Well, I can't buy
anything with that.

Okay, great.

Thanks.

How about this
macaroni and cheese?

What do you say when someone
asks you, what do you do for a living?

It depends who it is.

If I don't want to talk to the
person, let's tell them adios.

You're not in a
fucking business.

When I got to know him,
he was sort of twitching.

Whenever he was at sea level.

He doesn't do well
when he's not in thin air.

Yeah, I wish they'd
make the lock.

Car first for that shit
is fucking, fuck them.

Like China to Bangkok or Europe.

Here, the fucking people that walk
out across the street don't even look.

It's like he was in prison or
something when he was in the city.

The mountains are the only
thing that made him comfortable.

Hey there, it's Becky.

Can you rent a car?

But we've got to
get out of here.

The weather might come in on Sunday
and it'll fuck the whole damn trip up.

Becky again.

I'm calling you over and over.

The whole trip is not gonna
work unless we get going.

This is a crisis.

This is the bed.

You have got to be here
on the 12th on Saturday.

That was our agreement.

You cannot be here
as late as Monday.

We are losing the money.

He called me up a couple weeks ago to
check in on how the book was coming along,

and I said, well, how are you
coming along on the climbs?

And he said, oh, I got weathered off
last year, but I'm getting all geared up.

We'll get it done.

We'll get it done
before press time.

Don't take movies of me.

I look kind of
ugly this morning.

Yeah, you look great.

Hey.

Anybody want agua?

Sure, I'll have a little.

Yeah, it's free.

How many times have
you been up here?

Too many.

Things just haven't clicked.

It's sometimes my fault,
sometimes the wetter.

Okay.

Get laid.

I'm not doing very well.

I do see Fred get really defeated
by not physically being able to do it,

because mentally, he still thinks
of being able to climb this stuff.

He still wants to climb lucky
streaks and believes he can.

I hope I climb better
than this tomorrow.

Fuck.

I didn't set any speed
records on that, man.

Kind of fun, though.

Hope I didn't embarrass
you guys too much.

You did great, man.

I had fun, and I was
still a little clumsy.

Very quickly after the defeat and the
self-doubt, he's real quick to just turn

right back around and
somehow just erase all that.

He's got to get that
from his brain and start

fresh that he wants to
climb lucky streaks again.

I may go back next year.

Let's see.

If I do, I think I'm just going to go up
and climb three pitches and just bail off.

Fuck it.

One thing about alpine climbing, if
you can't handle rejection or failure,

don't even go there.

We're in Bishop, California.

It was a Saturday night and we
all went to a country western bar.

And there were a lot of women.

Fred's a big fan.

There was this table with about nine
attractive women in their maybe 30s.

He would go over and he'd tap one on
the shoulder and she'd look up at him.

You know, he's 35 years older.

Hey, hey, would
you like to dance?

No.

And okay, you know,
go to the next one.

Hey, how about you?

Would you like to dance?

I don't think so.

But he went right around
the table to about the

fifth or sixth one and
the most attractive even.

And she said, sure, I'll dance.

And they went up and they
disappeared and we never saw them.

Again for three days.

And persistence pays off.

Something like that?

Yeah.

Yeah.

That's good.

Don't we smile or grouch or?

You're great.

Good job.

What are you, five to eight?

Five to eight.

Yeah.

Five to eight.

You haven't been
rock climbing at all?

Sorry.

Kind of scary.

Yeah, sort of.

You don't think?

It is scary.

Yeah.

I want some other things.

It's scary.

Yeah, that's true.

Fred Becky in his late 80s is more
motivated for expeditions and has more

ideas for what he would like
to climb than any other climber.

And it's because he's thinking
about this stuff 24 7 for 80 plus years.

Still now, he's not
staying in a motel.

He's sleeping on the side of
the road and hasn't changed at all.

Okay.

Guess we're out of here.

I probably won't get back
until July 12th, 14th maybe.

I'm not sure, you know.

One way you knew you'd made
the North American climbing

landscape was you'd get your
first Fred Becky phone calls.

Fred Becky, let's get
together on a climb.

Actually I'm kicking off.

I hope today.

I'm trying to get something
to get her to go to Canada.

Yeah I'm hot to go on this thing
as soon as we can get mobilized.

In a way you look
forward to climbing.

...communications with Fred and the
way you looked a little bit with dread that

the next time he's
going to give you a call.

Right now, I don't know what
I'm doing except tomorrow.

I have no idea.

Are you in Alaska?

Okay, you just got back.

I've been trying to get a hold
of you, as you probably know.

He was persuasive.

Yeah, he'd get you on the phone.

He'd analyze the weather,
the weta, as he called it.

Call the weta man.

He's supposed to be good.

What do you think of
this awful summer weta?

I will try to call Canada today.

And I may call some
ranger up there like the

Icefields and get an idea
of what is really happening.

How many thousands of people have
gotten a call in the middle of the night?

You know, what's the
weather doing there?

I don't know.

Fred, it's fucking dark out.

I don't know.

I think conditions are
pretty darn good right now.

The weather's excellent.

Actually got room
for another guy.

Three would be perfect.

He would do his best to
convince a guy to go climbing.

You're putting your
luck sometimes like that

high blood pressure
by just working for it.

Too hard.

He'd hound you
until you caved in.

He will not rest until
you call him back.

Like, there's no
blowing off Fred.

Shit!

Especially if he knows where
you live, like, you don't know.

He could just, like,
show up at your house.

I'm Fred Becky.

Remember me?

Hey, we're right in
front of your house.

Fucking system, I gotta
do something about this.

I'm on your street, but I don't know
where your license is gonna stop by.

Are you the one with the fence?

If you've ever seen Fred's filing
system, it's a series of different cards

rubber-banned together,
in different areas.

Phone numbers scratched out.

More current phone numbers.

Addresses.

What days a person has off.

I've seen him fill
this out on the phone.

So, what days are you off again?

Thurs-days and Fridays
I can climb with this guy.

He thinks nothing of making
that late-night phone call.

He just pulls in and
just would throw his

sleeping bag down in our
driveway and crash out.

I remember having kids walk
past in the morning going to school.

One of the kids said, why do you
make your grandpa sleep in the driveway?

In the early 60s, Shiprock only had
one route on it, so any other ascent would

result in the first ascent,
and that was Fred's Forte.

So he tried to recruit Erik
Bjornstedt and me to do the

climb with him, and Erik agreed
to go with him, and I didn't.

When we went to Shiprock in the early 60s,
the lady that I was going with at the time

had tattoos over about 80% of
her body, and Fred just hated her.

I really don't even know
why he brought her.

She was not a climber.

What was she going
to do there all that time?

You know, I mean, I think
it was a really bad choice.

I spent 20 days on the southwest buttress
of Shiprock with Fred and this lady,

and finally had a
falling out with Fred.

When Erik decided to quit,
Fred just couldn't handle it.

And of course, they were out
there in Fred's Thunderbird.

Fred wouldn't even take
Erik to the bus station, so

Erik and his girlfriend had
to walk across the desert.

We hiked back out to
the highway, which was

several miles, and then
hitchhiked back to Seattle.

And Fred would dog us.

He would follow us in
the car, saying within view.

And then as we'd get let
off, he would drive by slowly.

And he did that all
the way into Oregon.

He then got on the phone, you know, every
few hours and would call me at my office.

And so when the phone
would ring, the boss would

answer the phone and
it'd be long distance.

And there'd be a long
discourse of how great

the climate is and how
good the conditions are.

Oh yeah, Erik, you know, lost interest,
you know, there was no big problem,

which was all a lie.

My boss started getting
angry with me because,

you know, I was
getting paid by the hour.

I figured, hey, I've
got a race coming.

So I kind of asked
my boss for the race.

And when he didn't give me the race, it
was a good excuse to quit and join Fred.

When Erik and I were there,
it was too windy, too cold.

When Alex came, I was
told that everything changed.

It got too warm.

We were within 200 feet of the summit
when Fred decided that we couldn't go any

further because we only had
maybe a cup of water left in our tank.

It was our last bottle.

He was adamant about going down
and I was adamant about going up.

And Fred, I think, almost
had a nervous breakdown.

Eventually, I felt exhausted
just arguing with him.

And I said, okay, let's go down,
but I'm not coming back up again.

And he said, that's fine.

Luckily, I'd been in touch with Harvey
Carter, who I'd climbed with before.

Harvey came out and
met Fred at Shiprock.

And within half a day,
they reached the summit.

So the first ascent
of the Southwest

Buttress was Fred,
Becky, and Harvey Carter.

But Alex had spent a whole week on the
climb and I'd spent 20 days on the climb.

We have an important
announcement!

We're standing on the
summit of Mount Gale!

The culture of that time
was one of personal pride.

If you were a climber, you kind
of felt you were a little bit special.

It was very appealing to do something
that few other people could do.

And back in the 60s, it was
pretty esoteric, you know.

Why people climb now,
I think, is totally different.

Some people talk about the sport of
mountaineering or the sport of climbing.

And for me, what sport
is so much about is rules.

You have to follow the rules.

And I think what
defines being up in the

mountains and climbing
is that there is no rules.

There was a fierce
competition in those days.

We didn't really get along well.

I had my ideas of what I wanted to do, and
he had his ideas of what he wanted to do.

The first ascents
were the thing.

Cooper might have been
one that he was interested,

maybe sometimes interested
in the same climbs I was.

And that's fine, you know.

There was some competition.

But sometimes I
joined him on climbs too.

It became a little
bit of a game.

He wouldn't tell his partners
where they were going.

In case the weather turned bad and they
never got there, then he wouldn't tip them

off about this first ascent
that he wants to do.

Fred was only focused on climbing, and his
partners had to be dedicated the same way.

And he never felt sorry for you if
your climbing ended up in a divorce.

He's had to leave a few
burning bridges behind

in order to live the
life that he's wanted.

He went through dozens
and dozens of climbers.

And he would have
falling outs with them.

And he was a difficult
person to be around.

But I got along well with him because I
admired Fred for his climbing ability and

just overlooked the other
faults that he might have had.

Now, climbers are a
pretty single-minded bunch.

But he's more single-minded
than the single-minded bunch.

People thought I was a fanatic.

They thought my
friends were fanatics.

And that's nothing,
nothing compared to Fred.

He would kind
of talk all the time.

Almost constantly.

Fred will wear you down.

He'll repeat the same thing
over and over and over again.

And that can drive you nuts.

There were three subjects
that he would talk about.

Of course, the first
one is moments.

The other, of course, weather.

And the other
subject were women.

Women he dated, women that he wanted to
date, you know, women he should have dated.

And those were the three
subjects that you were

stuck with when you
were in a tent with Fred.

Do you think people considered
you sort of a renegade climber?

They probably think
I'm pretty independent.

It's all right.

I don't care what they think.

I could care less.

There was a school of
thought that he was unsafe.

That what comes with being a
spectacular pioneer is recklessness.

People died climbing with him.

Have you lost a lot of
friends in the mountains?

A few, yeah.

Dick Bergey on Mount Bering.

That was a bad one.

And we lost Charles
Simbrick in an accident on

Montserrat in the Waddington
area, the Waddington Ridge.

Very unfortunate.

I feel very, very,
very bad about it.

Many climbers have lost some
of their best friends climbing.

It's not for everybody.

It definitely is not.

There is an element of luck
involved in these risky sports.

They never pin the blame
specifically on him for these deaths.

It was more like he
lived and they didn't.

They took the fatal wrong step.

But there was enough there for the
gossips that he developed a bad reputation.

If risk appealed to
me, I'd go out in the

jungle and, you know,
hang around the lions.

He was...

to my knowledge, never
injured seriously in an accident.

And that's quite a feat with all
the climbing that he has done.

You were guaranteed
going back in the mountains

with Fred, you weren't
going to get lost at least.

He knew exactly where
he was all the time.

He'd spent enough years in the mountains
to know that if you're going to continue

doing this sort of thing and
survive, well, you've got to be careful.

The reason I'm alive today
is probably because of Fred

and the things I learned
alpine climbing with him.

There was probably 250
serious climbers in America.

I didn't know who Fred was when I first
met him, but then I started realizing,

you know, he's one of the few guys that
actually searched out hard alpine climbs.

Beautiful Mount Edith
Cavell in Canada.

Many have wanted to
scale the north face of this

mountain, but no one
has ever dared it before.

When we tried to sign out with the
park warden, he wouldn't sign us out.

He said it's suicide.

And so we said, okay, we're
going to go do it anyway.

7 a.m.

The men set out
to risk their lives.

And there it is.

Are they worried?

You doggone right they are.

But the goal is
greater than fear.

It's an interesting combination where
you have Yvonne, the young Yosemite

specialist, apprentice to
the master mountain climber.

Not many of us can endure
such a prolonged struggle.

But Yvonne and Fred and
Dan keep their goal in mind.

We knew we could climb the
peak as far as the difficulties go.

The danger is rockfall
and possible avalanches.

We had a bad lightning storm that
pretty much frightened us the night.

We bivouacked about
500 feet below the summit.

Suddenly, the struggle is over.

And they become the first
men in history to climb the

dangerous north face of the
summit of Mount Eith Cavell.

There'd be time to congratulate
themselves later when they

return to the everyday world
where congratulations matter.

We got back down.

There was a note on our car from
the warden that said, good work, boys.

After we climbed Eith Cavell,
Sonar and I went to the Bugaboo.

That's when we had our ascent
on the South Tower of Hauser.

That's the ultimate in climbing, is to
do a first ascent on a beautiful line.

Fred's a climber's climber.

He chose to do
good routes that were

challenging, that were
aesthetically beautiful.

He has an artist's
eye for the line.

What Fred has given back to
climbing is thousands of routes.

There's probably no
human being on the

planet that has more
routes named after him.

The Becky this, the Becky that,
the Becky the rack, the Becky...

He was a very good researcher,
which gave rise to whether

or not this mythological
notebook actually exists.

You've always heard
about this black book.

The black book
that Fred Becky has.

All the unclimbed peaks
that he still wanted to do.

It's become legendary
in American climbing.

People whisper about that
somebody found the black book.

The black book.

There's no black book.

That was in the haul
bag on Tehippity Dome.

No.

I don't know of any black book.

I would never have put a black book...
Why would I put a black book in a haul bag?

I mean, it doesn't make sense.

People make up stories,
I've never had a black book.

He didn't need a black book.

He remembered every mountain
that he ever saw, pictures of, or

climbed, or from the summit,
looking over to the next range.

He knew what he wanted to climb,
and he remembered those details.

Hey, listen.

I'm planning on heading down for
Russell and Whitney in a few days.

But we wanted one more climber.

We needed somebody,
but so far we've had no luck.

I've called about 35 people.

This is the only way
I can do it this year.

The only way.

The fact that he still has these high
standards of routes that he wants to do,

and he's really, we all know he's
really not capable of doing them.

I don't think it's ego.

I think it's, he's
just an idealist.

Fred loves the mountains,
and he still wants that

lifestyle of having his car
full of gear, just in case.

He's a climber.

He's not going to give
up until it's his last breath.

You know, you damn well wouldn't want your
kid to grow up to be Fred Becky because of

this exclusive focus,
this unnatural focus.

Other people have moved on.

They have normal lives.

They had families.

They had wives.

They have grandkids now.

They have their
place in history.

Fred never did.

In some cases he may be a sad,
lonely man who doesn't have anything.

But I think he also appreciates the fact
that he can still do what most of us can't.

There's almost this morbid fear of being
the one who's with Fred when he goes.

Am I going to be the one who's
known as the guy who killed Fred Becky?

I can grab your pack, Fred.

Ah, it's okay, buddy.

I feel guilty.

Hey, Fred.

You got a guilt trip?

No, the main thing is
that you get up high.

It doesn't matter
how you get there.

Yeah, it does.

When I see him, I think, gosh, he's
so much smaller than I remember.

You know, I remember him
being so much taller and straight.

And now he's getting,
you know, he's...

Like all of us,
he's getting there.

What do you think?

I don't know, man.

Don't take movies of me, shit.

He doesn't run up here.

Maybe not run, but...

You know, you want to
get some climbing footage.

You know, you want to get a movie
about climbing and not backpacking.

Me walking uphill
across some crooks.

I mean, okay, but how
much of that is valuable?

I don't know.

How are you feeling, Fred?

I don't know.

I'm gonna lay on my
ass here for a minute.

Fucking lungs.

I mean, fuck.

I can't believe taking
three days to get here.

I just, I don't think
I can cut the climb.

I got no fucking energy.

Going so fucking
slow, I'm embarrassed.

That's ridiculous.

I don't know, what
the fuck is wrong?

Yeah, maybe we're
just not gonna bail.

I don't know.

I just don't know
how I'm gonna feel.

I hate to deal with it.

Should we get going?

Yeah.

Probably the smartest move.

I never deliberate this much.

Either I want to do
something or I don't do it.

Well, I think today, Fred, with his
age, that he keeps going and he's kind of

living on memories and living
on a dream, that he can still do it.

And I say more power to him.

You know, if he does
fall off a steep trail or

something, I don't think
he'd have it any other way.

It's hard to tell.

Was he just driven?

Because through what he did, it would
become immortal in a way, which it will.

Come on, people,
we're at Beckham.

Good to meet you.

Don't lose the books.

I hope.

Don't worry.

In recent years, there have
been a number of people who

have recognized him for what
he is, the last of a dying man.

The last of a dying breed
of wilderness explorers.

I was perfectly okay until
about three years ago.

And on the Canadian
Rockies, I started feeling funny.

Don't know what it is.

Probably lucky to be alive.

And I've got a whole rack of medicines
that the doctor wishes I would take,

but I don't do it.

Everything from A to Z, vitamins,
vitamin C, which will probably help.

I probably should do it.

Do you want any candy?

Definitely get some donuts.

I like donuts.

Trying to gain some weight.

The best donuts are the Canadian
ones, but they don't have them here.

My favorite kind of
donut is a jelly donut.

Some kind of raspberry
jelly or something.

Or all these donuts that
have cream puff inside of them.

They're pretty good.

We're here in Canyonlands
National Park near the site of Moses.

This is the first time I've
been back since 1972.

I welcome the chance to
climb in a different environment.

And the Utah desert is about
as different from my background.

I thought it was very
beautiful and unusual.

It took me a while to
get used to the rock.

I used to come out
here for climbing practice.

I think I was one of the earliest
people to climb on the rock.

Fred is sort of alone
here in the States.

And who's his family?

Who's his support network?

You need to have
community to stay healthy.

Fred's family is the
climbing community.

Right now I have
a driving problem.

The driver's license.

People don't think
I'm a good driver.

Maybe I'm not.

I think I am.

But whatever.

It's difficult because I'd like to get
somebody to go skiing with this weekend.

I'm not even sure who I am.

I may not be able
to find anyone.

Are we going to see Jury
tomorrow at the Bluest Pass?

Can you please call me back?

I hope this works out.

Yeah, but do call me.

I'm waiting.

I would like to hear from you.

All right.

Do I go to the park?

Do I go down by the beach?

My brother's two and a half
years younger than I was.

He did everything I did.

One time my brother and I found a couple
of logs and we nailed boards together and

we made kind of a
makeshift raft and then

went and paddled across
over to Vashon Island.

We went a hell
of a long ways out.

Freighters and ocean
liners would come along.

One ship did come by.

The ship created waves and wake.

I was worried that it
might shake the raft apart.

It's about three miles
over to Vashon Island.

We stayed on the
island maybe a night.

We abandoned
the raft over there.

We took the ferry boat back.

I think maybe we
were pushing the limits.

I think we were
pushing our luck.

I sure wouldn't dream
of doing it today.

I don't talk to Fred, you know, because
he's always... He's too hard to reach.

Have you talked to Helmy?

I made a trip there.

We had some
communication problems.

He's having a
tough time hearing.

He came to visit,
you know, over here.

But not to see me, but
to go into the Dolomites.

He changed his lifestyle a lot.

He's just totally
immersed in music.

Which is okay.

But I think he overdoes it.

I'm proud of him.

He's a real hero.

And he's the most modest damn
person in the world, you know.

There must be a lot of people that are
just plain resentful or jealous or what.

Because Fred is
different, you know.

You want to pick up a duck?

They either hate the guy
or fear him or love him.

I don't know if
I'm contributing.

I'm not sure I am.

I hope I'm contributing a
little bit to mountaineering,

education, people's
knowledge of the mountains.

I think the dirtbag thing...

I don't know where
it really started.

I don't feel that
I've been a dirtbag.

I've always had a car.

And I've always had a purpose.

The first sentence I've done...

Going to Kate's Needle and
Devil's Thumb and Mount Hunter.

John Devere in Alaska.

The Waddington trip.

I don't think you can
call that dirtbagging.

So do you feel like you did
everything you wanted to do?

Never, no.

I just scratched the surface.

Obviously with
climbing, it's endless.

You know, you can
make a hit list of things

that you want to
climb or places to visit.

Hey, I'd love to go to Majorca.

The islands in Greece.

I haven't even been to Thailand.

And even in North America.

There are mountains in Colorado, Wyoming,
Montana that I haven't even been to.

I haven't even climbed Mexico.

All of South America.

I've never done anything really.

I can't do all these things.

But I don't regret having it.

It may be better
to look forward to it.

Maybe I'll get there sometime.

I'd like to go to Hawaii
and get younger.

But I guess nobody's
figured that out yet.

Do you have any single one thing you value
most in life that you value the very most?

Stay alive.

That's important.

When we study individuals who
break the mold, we should not

just study artists and scientists
and authors and architects.

We should include
Fred Becky among them.

Becky was trained classically,
but then he just smashed the model.

Sometimes it just calls
for a single-minded bastard.

So many of us grow up and are stuck in
dead-end jobs and can't get out of them.

You see this person who has pursued his
passion and has pursued it passionately.

And we all know
instinctively, that's what I

should have done from
the time I was 18 years old.

You know, I could sit the
heck with it and go play

golf, take up cards, sit
around the picnic table.

It's a lot more
fun, a lot easier.

But I guess I have a
certain amount of motivation

or drive to go out
and do these things.

Why?

I can't explain it.

I'd rather do something
than do nothing.

Put it that way.

Oh.

Yeah, do it!

What

I believe about most
people is as they get

older, they don't
necessarily get any wiser.

In fact, rarely.

They just become more so.

What they've always been.

And I think probably with
Fred, it's the same thing.

He is...

etched in stone.