Christian “Hechei” Hechenberger has fulfilled his dreams. He lives with his wife and two children at the foot of the Wilder Kaiser, works as a mountain guide with two close friends in the small but excellent alpine school “Rock & Roll,” and spends a lot of time in the mountains tackling challenging projects on rock and ice.

During a ski tour in February 2020, Hechei has an avalanche accident on the Grosser Rettenstein in the Kitzbühel Alps (see green box), in which he and his guest are seriously injured. Of course, every mountaineer and even more so every mountain guide has questions after such a drastic event: How could this happen? What did I do wrong? How can I prevent such an accident in the future?

It soon became clear that he had not done anything ‘wrong’, and this was also confirmed by a forensic expert called in during the investigation. Nevertheless, the realisation remained that, although there was actually nothing wrong with the tour, he could very easily have died with his guest. In any case, the accident prompted him to take another critical look at his approach to guiding in winter and to publish these thoughts in the form of an interview for bergundsteigen.

Just as we were about to arrange an interview for the beginning of December 2020, Hechei had an accident during a climbing tour on the Fleischbank-Nordgrat in the Wilder Kaiser. As he was climbing without a rope in grade III difficulty – nothing unusual for a mountain guide who has done the tour many times – he fell about 100 metres over steep rocky terrain, rolling over several times, and came to rest at the foot of the wall with serious injuries (Fig. 4).

After it was initially unclear whether he would survive the fall, let alone whether he would be able to go mountaineering and climbing again, he fought his way back step by step and, contrary to all expectations, was back on classic climbing tours with guests in the summer. As Christian was still motivated to discuss our original topic, we met up for an interview almost exactly one year after his fall.

Avalanche accident in the eastern gully on the Großer Rettenstein – extract from the alpine police report

Author: Martin Hautz, former head of the Kitzbühel Alpine Operations Group

A local 36-year-old (now 38) Austrian mountain and ski guide was travelling to the Kitzbühel Alps almost every day in winter 2019/20 on ski tours and freeriding. In the period from 5 to 7 February 2020, he was in the vicinity of the Grosser Rettenstein and was able to get an overview of the conditions in the eastern gully, which he had done several times before. After obtaining the Tyrolean and Salzburg avalanche situation report on 7 February 2020 – danger level 1 up to 2,300 m and level 2 above 2,300 m was issued for 8 February – and detailed tour planning, he met up with his client on Saturday 8 February at 08:20 at the valley station of the Wagstättbahn cable car in Jochberg. From there, they took the lifts to the so-called ‘2000er’, where they left the secured piste area and climbed up to the Schöntaljoch. From the Schöntaljoch, they traversed far to the north-west and reached the striking eastern gully, where they made the first track and ascended in hairpin bends towards the summit.

At around 2,115 m, they stowed their skis on their rucksacks and continued their ascent/stack on foot (Fig. 1). Here, a 44-year-old and a 39-year-old Austrian – both without formal mountaineering qualifications and friends – followed them on the ascent track and overtook them. While the 44-year-old was now the first to ski up the increasingly steep slope in hairpin bends and his 39-year-old friend followed him at an ever-increasing distance in his track, also on skis, the mountain guide and his client climbed/stacked in a joint stacking track approximately in the fall line in the centre of the gully up to about 15 m above the so-called ‘big stone’ (approx. 2,285 m).

At this height, at around 12:00 noon, both skiers stopped at a vertical distance of approx. 2-7 metres on the approx. 47° steep slope, as the mountain guide was taking a photo of his client when an avalanche suddenly occurred (Fig. 1). The mountain guide and his client were able to deploy their avalanche airbags, were caught by the masses of snow and were swept about 340 metres away. Both came to rest on the surface (visibly) buried and seriously injured at the same height (Fig. 2). Comprehensive documentation of the accident on the Grosser Rettenstein can be found in analyse:berg, Winter 2020/21, pp. 68-78. The specialist magazine from the Austrian Board of Trustees for Alpine Safety is published twice a year and deals with the investigation of alpine accidents. It is available by subscription.

bergundsteigen: Originally, we only wanted to talk about the avalanche accident you had in February 2020. The accident had a lasting effect on you in that it prompted you to critically scrutinise your work as a mountain and ski guide and your approach. What conclusions did you draw?

Christian Hechenberger: When I was questioned by the alpine police, my first impression was confirmed that I hadn’t made any major mistakes and had done everything I could to avoid an accident. I had already travelled in the area the previous days, knew the destination very well and the weather was also perfect. The snow and avalanche situation was quite favourable with an avalanche danger level of moderate (2) from 2,300 m and low (1) below 2,300 m, mainly because there were no danger signs in the terrain. It should be mentioned at this point that the Große Rettenstein is 2,366 m high. A court-appointed expert also came to the conclusion that my approach was extremely careful and that I could not be criticised from a technical point of view.

However, I was more concerned with the question than a technical error: Why did I choose the Grosser Rettenstein as my destination? I could have gone somewhere else. The answer was quite simple: I wanted to offer my guest something and therefore chose a destination that is not commonplace and also has a certain significance from an alpine perspective – at least in the Kitzbühel Alps. And after the aspect of ‘offering the guest something’, I also wanted to offer something to my ego as a mountain guide! A fact that is perhaps sometimes underestimated or that I also underestimated.

With hindsight and the knowledge I now have, I could have heard the alarm bells. We climbed up the slope, which was up to 47° steep, in hairpin bends, which was pretty easy for me, when my guest said to me: ‘I can’t make it on my skis!’ At this point, I could have turned back, we would have skied off and had a nice day in the ski area. But I decided to strap my skis onto my rucksack and trudge the last 200 metres up to the summit. From today’s perspective, that was the crucial point for me!

For the future, I have resolved to be even more aware of such key points when guiding in order to question decisions or even cancel a tour. Another important lesson for me is that mountain guiding is first and foremost about having a great day and not about an extreme goal! A good time together is much more important than an exclusive destination! Of course, I can also tackle a cool destination if there’s nothing to stop me, but I should always ask myself whether it’s necessary and whether it’s worth it?

As a mountain guide, you simply have to be aware that some destinations also mean a higher risk and then be able to assess whether this is still suitable for the guests. But if you get the feedback that it’s more than enough anyway, as a guide you should also take the step of turning back. It was and is a learning process for me as a mountain guide to realise and accept that it doesn’t always have to be higher, more extreme, steeper … but that a good day is simply the goal. Of course, I also have guests who explicitly demand metres in altitude, steepness and difficulty, but that’s how it is for me today: Do I even want that (anymore)?

As a mountain guide, you are also on long and difficult routes in the rock. How do you see the risk of climbing compared to touring?

It’s certainly easier in summer or when climbing than in winter. If someone wants to do the ‘Comici’ on the north face of the Grosse Zinne, then they have an idea and I can do it or not. I can do a preparatory tour with my guest and then decide whether we go. I know the tour, know the difficulties, assess the weather and know what I’m letting myself in for.

And if I don’t know a tour, I can get very good information and compare it with similarly difficult routes. The guests have a clear goal and therefore also determine their risk to a certain extent. It’s much easier for me to plan and it’s also easier to turn back, as the decision points are much clearer. The risk is much more transparent than on a ski tour. This is because when touring and off-piste skiing in winter, I usually decide on the destination and the risk.

In many cases, there are no clearly formulated descent requests on the part of the guests, but primarily my demands or assumptions as to what the guest likes or dislikes and what is expected of me. What’s more, I can charge a lot more for a difficult Kaisertour or a Dolomite face, because a north face or an alpine 7-metre tour is simply worth more than a run-of-the-mill ski tour in the Kitzbühel Alps. It was only after my accident that I really realised that the risk involved in climbing is actually much lower than in ski touring. Now I also know why I like to lead difficult climbing tours! Colleagues sometimes ask: Why do you do that to yourself? But compared to the winter theme, climbing is much ‘grippier’ and easier to assess!

As a mountain guide, you know of course that there are accidents on the mountain. But how do you see the issue of risk as someone who has been or is so directly affected? In your opinion, how should a full-time mountain guide deal with risk?

Overall, the risk on the mountain is incredibly difficult to grasp, because too often you simply don’t know how close it was, especially in winter. I had three birthdays to celebrate in 2020 with my avalanche accident and the fall – but I don’t know how many birthdays there have actually been over the years. Looking back, as a mountain guide I always thought very carefully about what I could do with my guests, but I didn’t really take myself into account – my attitude was: I work anyway!

Only on very demanding tours did I sometimes ask myself the question: Can I do this or do I want to do this? In future, I will involve myself much more and put my own ego aside when leading. When difficult tours arise, this is of course exciting and should be the case, but difficult tours are not the goal or an end in themselves. However, I see a high risk not only in the obviously difficult tours, but also in the often overcrowded destinations of the three- and four-thousand metre peaks in the Alps.

Travelling with unknown and sometimes overtaxed people on rock and firn ridges or on steep flanks is certainly an area that I won’t actively push. We always joke among colleagues that our aim in summer is not to put on crampons, and there is a lot to be said for that in terms of risk. I see a lot of opportunities in summer to be out and about with low risk and a high enjoyment factor for guests and guides.

Of course, there are colleagues who criticise me for only choosing the ‘cherries’ when guiding, and for many mountain guides it won’t be possible in their working environment for them to turn down certain tours. But I don’t have to do it and every mountain guide should organise their professional field in such a way that it suits them! I mean that in terms of content and also in terms of risk. I feel really privileged that I can choose the beautiful tours (summer and winter) and go with guests that I like.

In winter, I see the risk as such that I always have a latent danger lying dormant with my guests, but I can influence this by simply being a little more cautious when travelling – especially when nothing else is required of my guests. It gets exciting when, out of your own ambition and in the desire to offer your beloved guests the maximum, you look for destinations that are rather high in risk and also satisfy your own mountain guide ego.

Is there such a thing as a ‘mountain guide ego’?

There is, of course, the moment among colleagues when it’s all about who has ridden steeper or done the more challenging tour. Having done ‘more’ than the others is also a certain incentive and, in my opinion, not inherently bad. It is also an expression of a professional attitude to work in the sense of a certain willingness to perform. Seen in this light, the quality of the work can also be determined to a certain extent by the quantity of vertical metres or the difficulty, and perhaps this also expresses the ‘mountain guide ego’. I have always tried to deliver a good performance, but since my accidents I have tried even more consciously to engage with the group and, if possible, always see a smile on my guests’ faces. I believe this helps me to find regular customers even better than difficulty and pure performance, and as a professional mountain guide this is ultimately the key to success and the future.

How do you communicate risk to your guests?

On a ski tour, I don’t stand up and explain to my guests the cornerstones of my risk assessment or all aspects of my tour planning – unless my guests want to know. I check the risk and then give my guests appropriate instructions (e.g. following the tracks, keeping a safe distance …).

I don’t see it as absolutely necessary to always communicate the risk. Especially when guiding, it is the mountain guide’s job to cover the topic of risk professionally. One of the reasons why a guest might decide to hire a mountain guide is that they don’t want to or can’t deal with the risks. Transferring the decision to the guest in a critical situation does not work anyway and is not expedient!

What do you think a guest appreciates most about a mountain guide?

Authenticity! Although of course it depends on the guest what he/she particularly appreciates. If someone is desperate to reach a summit or a goal, then they probably appreciate it most when this goal is fulfilled. Most of my guests, however, value the relationship we have with each other. Whether I go to the mountains with my wife, with friends or with guests makes no difference to me!

I always try to make the most of the day, that’s my aim. At work, however, I am always willing to build a relationship with my guests and I believe that they appreciate that. I still have a good relationship with my guest with whom I had the avalanche accident on the Grosser Rettenstein and it was never an issue that he blamed me for the accident. Although he was seriously injured at the time, we have already planned tours together again, and that in turn gives me the feeling that I have done something right when dealing with my guests.

So in addition to the hard facts and the services to be provided, there must also be a relationship level. After my accident in December 2020, last summer I was unable to offer a regular guest the tours that we had done in the past. For example, we climbed the Rosengarten East Face and similar tours. This year I was with him at the Karlsbader Hütte and we climbed tours that were all much less demanding. In the end, he told me that the days in the Lienz Dolomites were just as fulfilling for him as the difficult tours in previous years.

In that sense, I have certainly also fulfilled my own ego on my guided tours in the past. It was simply so motivating for me to go on difficult routes and to earn my money with these routes. To have a job that allows you to do that is simply the best thing for someone whose great passion is climbing. Today, I’m sure that good days on the mountain and a good time are more important than difficult routes!

Are your two accidents in 2020 connected in any way?

For me, these are two completely unrelated events. I didn’t learn anything from the avalanche accident that could have prevented the crash. The crash at the Fleischbank is of course more present at the moment because the consequences were also more serious. Although I see the two accidents as separate, there are also overlaps. One overlap is that I didn’t do anything impossible in terms of the goal and there were no ‘technical’ mistakes. An important parallel for me is that I asked myself afterwards whether it had to be this particular destination, as I could have had 1,000 other options.

On the other hand, the accident could have happened to me ten years earlier or in ten years’ time. Of course I asked myself whether it wouldn’t have been better to choose a different destination on 8 December: In hindsight, certainly, although I have often done much more difficult tours! Over the past few months, I’ve been able to think a lot about what I’ve already experienced on the mountain and how often I’ve perhaps been lucky – the risk was certainly very high, especially when it came to dedicated solo climbing.

A key experience was a solo tour on the Schleier Waterfall, where I was already thinking about what else I could climb solo during the tour. Instead of concentrating, my mind was already somewhere else. And then I suddenly realised that I shouldn’t do it, and I’ve stuck to this decision to this day.

Have you ever asked yourself the question of the meaning of mountaineering and what is important to you in your life?

I personally didn’t ask myself the question about the meaning, others did, especially from my circle of friends. Many of them said: ‘He’ll probably give it a rest now!’ But nobody from the mountaineering circle said that! My colleagues and friends would probably have been blindsided if I had stopped. It was my passion before and it still is, I love climbing and mountaineering and I’m still living my dream. I ‘have to’ go to the mountains because otherwise I’m not me! I would therefore not question the purpose of mountaineering, but rather ask myself the question:

What can I do differently? I also found some answers to this in my avalanche accident. When it comes to my climbing accident, I find it more difficult because the only thing I can think of is staying at home, although I now often ask myself the question: ‘Do I have to do this today?’ My agenda of desired goals has also become much smaller. I’m no longer so driven by very ambitious goals, which is certainly also due to the fact that I’m much more at home with my family. I already appreciated the fact that we were doing well as a family, but the realisation that my children and my wife need me now is much more conscious and decisive. My life is certainly determined to a large extent by the mountains, but the great importance of family is much more present today in the face of total loss.

I will therefore continue to pursue my passions in the mountains in the future, but I want to make sure that I do so in harmony with my family and friends. It’s not just about me and my needs, but about all areas of my life. On the whole, I would like to continue living my life as it is, but perhaps occasionally take a look from the outside to see if it really fits. All in all, my life has turned out really well – I have my dream job, a great family and good friends – and I almost lost this dream life because of supposedly small events. In this sense, I can put my own ego aside much better today.

Today I certainly have a different perspective on the whole thing – my perspective has changed! For example, in the past ten years, I’ve lived my life to the full in ice climbing and performance was extremely important to me, so it was really difficult for me to settle for anything. Now I’m grateful that I’m physically and mentally able to do it again and that I can be out with my friends on icefalls that I would have dismissed as ridiculous two years ago. And the most exciting thing is that I can now see that even ‘normal tours’ are really enjoyable and fulfilling. You can’t change the past, so it’s all about extracting many positive aspects from what I’ve experienced and realising as much as possible of what I’ve set out to do.

Do you think there are opportunities in training to prepare mountain guides for these challenges?

In my mountain guide training, soft skills played a subordinate role; it was primarily about technical ability, mountaineering skills and guiding methods. I think it would be very important if mountain guide training could perhaps do more in this area. After all, our profession is not just about pure technique; other things also play a major role in professional life. ‘Hard facts’ are essential, but the personality level should have a higher priority. This is difficult, especially in the existing training setting, where performance parameters are decisive. However, learning how to respond to the personality of guests while taking your own personality into account would certainly be a benefit.

“Building relationships with unknown people is a big part of our profession that shouldn’t be neglected. There doesn’t have to be a magic formula, but perhaps what I’ve experienced will give some people food for thought.”