The logical consequence thereof was a gradual change in the climbing model, namely, the abandoning of many amenities, such as the assistance of guides, oxygen or the “siegestyle” climbing in the Himalayas. The best expression of these trends is the light alpine style, which, in the words of Wojciech Kurtyka:
The Naked Mountaineer in the Mirror of Myth
[…] meant the art of living and a certain state of consciousness, the essence of which was the ability to fall in love with a mountain and, consequently, the ease of entrusting it unreservedly with one’s own destiny. Later, I happened to call this state the State of Nakedness, expressing vulnerability and trust with this term. The moment of entrustment was usually preceded by great dilemma, uncertainty and fear, a source of rich experience and insight. (1994: 22).
Of course, this “baring” of the mountaineer has its limits; the mountaineer cannot and will not completely discard the “burden” of culture. The need to face extreme conditions that represent objective human limitations has led mountaineering to reevaluate many general philosophical slogans (mainly existentialphenomenological), reducing them to the dimension of cultural practice. The mountaineer is forced to make rational use of the amenities of civilisation, but with an awareness of their imperfections (Pacukiewicz 2012: 261–261). Thus, in seeking a kind of “nakedness” of experience, they remain aware of their dependence on such fundamental and seemingly obvious issues as the clothes they climb in.
Interestingly, however, contemporary issues of clothing (technology, fashion, ethos) have receded into the background in the popular discourse on mountaineering, with the “naked” mountaineer, at the same time, having taken the centre stage. There used to be a lot of attention paid to the colour of mountaineering gaiters, how to sew/make an expedition suit for oneself, the proper cut of climbing shorts, the space technology used in the production of climbing clothes, and finally how to “utilise” them (especially for hygiene purposes). Today, it would seem that the foregoing context has become trivialised, and the boundary of moral shame has also shifted [2]. The most important thing is the “real” human being, the public discourse is dominated by questions about the mountaineer, his or her motivations, the particular “case” of humanity they represent. It is noteworthy that in the analysed discourse there is now less of the relationality in general, and the context present in the statement quoted from Kurtyka, where the starting point is the mountain, that is, the extrahuman and the objective – ultimately mountaineering is, in his terms, the “Path of the Mountain” (1988–1989: 37–43).
[2] This is how Félicité Carrel recalled her 1867 ascent of the Matterhorn: “I could have easily climbed to the top, but I was ashamed of my companions, for the wind blew my dresses too much” (after: Nyka 1976: 73).