History of Next Level Free Solo Climbs!
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If you tell someone you climb, there is about a 90 percent chance they will say the same thing. “Oh, like that free solo guy?” Somehow, after decades of sport climbing, trad climbing, bouldering, comps, and big walls, the entire sport still gets boiled down to one man on one wall.
And sure, it can get old. But if we are being honest, free soloing is still completely insane. Maybe Alex Honnold has a uniquely calm amygdala. Mine definitely does not. I get five feet off the ground on a V2 and start questioning my life choices. I need chalk just to watch some of these videos without sweating through my shirt.
What most people do not realize, though, is that Honnold is only one name in a much deeper and wilder history. Free soloing did not start with El Capitan, and it certainly did not peak there. For decades, climbers have been quietly pushing the limits of what is possible without a rope, often with almost no recognition.
So let’s take a look at the history of the world’s hardest free solos, from obscure single pitches to massive alpine walls. I guarantee you have not heard of most of them.

Single Pitches
Single-pitch routes are short enough to climb with a single rope length—if you’re using protection, which in this case, we’re not. Typically they’re 60–70 meters at most, often much shorter. Multi-pitch routes, on the other hand, are much longer, with multiple anchors acting as checkpoints. While single pitches might not be as visually striking as something like El Capitan, they’re often much harder than any single section on big wall routes like Free Rider. And if you fall mid-route, you’re almost certainly dead.
Like much of early climbing history, the beginnings of free soloing aren’t well documented. Many ascents have probably been lost to time. But we can go back to 1958, when Alan Austin soloed two famous routes in England: Western Front (E3 5c) and Wall of Horrors (E3 6a). British grading is notoriously confusing, but these likely convert to around 5.11 in the American system. For perspective, that’s similar to what Honnold graded his ascent of Taipei 101. And Austin did it eight years before the Civil Rights Act was passed. According to Dennis Gray, he had already decked once attempting Western Front.
That same year, John Gill soloed Thimble in South Dakota, considered the first 7a+ free solo—roughly 5.12. It was only nine meters tall and technically a boulder, but there were no crash pads back then. Falling from the top could easily mean broken ankles or worse. Today it’s graded around V4 or V5, but that style—blank, vertical face climbing—is brutally technical. Even V11 climbers can get shut down on much easier grades in that style.

It took nearly 20 years for the standard to rise again, with Mickey’s Beach Crack in San Francisco by Dan Goodwin and Baby Apes by John Bachar. Now we were entering the mythical French 8th grade. From this point on, the routes discussed are as hard or harder than the hardest single pitches Honnold has ever soloed: Heaven (5.12d/13a), The Phoenix (5.13a), and Cosmic Debris (5.13b).
One standout was Revelations at Raven Tor, soloed by Antoine Le Menestrel. At the time, it was the hardest route in Britain. He simply walked up and soloed it in front of a crowd. It was a bold, almost confrontational statement.
We also have Wolfgang Güllich, who completed the first 7c free solo with Weed Killer at Raven Tor, shortly before his iconic solo of Separate Reality (5.12a). That image—later repeated by Dean Potter—became one of the most famous photos in climbing.
In 1987, Jean-Christophe Lafaille soloed the first 8a+. Lafaille’s life was extraordinary: he climbed 11 of the 14 eight-thousanders and once descended Annapurna’s south face alone with a broken arm after his partner died in a fall. He later disappeared attempting a winter ascent of Makalu.
Then there’s Alain Robert, the “French Spider-Man,” known for his urban free solos. He soloed Ombres in France (8b), the first of its grade, and later climbed the Framatome building in Paris, grading it around 5.13b. On a difficulty scale from 1 to 10, he rated it a 10—compared to Taipei 101 at a 6 or 7. He’s still climbing in his 60s.
In the early 2000s, Alexander Huber went on a generational run, soloing routes like Der Opportunist (8b) and Kommunist (8b+) in Austria. This was the first time free soloing broke into 5.14 territory. Even today, most climbers will never climb 5.14 with a rope, let alone without one.
Then came Dave MacLeod’s solo of Darwin Dixit. Originally graded 8c and later downgraded to 8b+, it featured a near one-arm move on a mono pocket 40 feet off the ground. MacLeod said he did it as training for Echo Wall, a trad route so dangerous that parts of it are effectively free solos. This is someone who had already broken both ankles in previous falls. Absolute insanity.
In 2021, 52-year-old Alfredo Webber completed what is likely the hardest single-pitch free solo ever: Panem et Circenses (9a) in Arco, Italy. For perspective, when Honnold soloed El Capitan, his hardest roped ascent was 8c+. Here was a 52-year-old soloing just one grade below that. The video barely cracked 5,000 views.
More recently, Pete Whittaker of the Wide Boyz completed Autobahn, a crack project on a bridge. He carried gear but placed none, climbing at his absolute limit with death potential the entire time. He trained by repeatedly climbing sections until he was about to fall, placing gear at the last possible second. The mental fortitude required is hard to comprehend.

Multi-Pitches
Now let’s move to what most people associate with climbing: massive multi-pitch routes.
At the turn of the 20th century, climbers were already soloing big objectives. Via Piaz in Italy (around 5.7) is considered the first recorded multi-pitch free solo. Eleven years later, Paul Preuss soloed a 600-meter, 19-pitch route at 5a. Two years after that, Hans Dülfer soloed a 5.8 in Austria’s Kaiser Mountains. These grades seem easy now, but at the time there was no modern gear, little understanding of rock quality, and often loose holds on first ascents.
In 1978, the standard jumped to 5.11 with Naked Edge in Eldorado Canyon, soloed by Jim Collins. In Yosemite, John Bachar soloed Nabisco Wall, while Peter Croft soloed Astroman and the Rostrum—both later repeated in a single day by Honnold.
Alexander Huber returned in the early 2000s with a free solo of Brandler-Hasse on the Cima Grande, 580 meters tall and 17 pitches, with difficulties up to 7a+. It was the first big wall solo at that grade.
Then Michael Reardon onsight free soloed Romantic Warrior (7b/5.12b). Onsight means he had never climbed or rehearsed it. Honnold rehearsed Free Rider hundreds of times. Reardon had to read 300 meters of 5.12 climbing on the fly.
Honnold himself has numerous massive solos beyond Free Rider: the Regular Northwest Face of Half Dome (including a speed solo in 1 hour 22 minutes), Shune’s Buttress onsight in a snowstorm, and Moonlight Buttress (5.12c), one of the most striking lines in the world.
Arguably his most underrated ascent is El Sendero Luminoso in Mexico—1,750 feet tall, with a crux of 5.12d and sustained difficulty throughout.

In 2013, Hansjörg Auer soloed the Fish Route on Marmolada—850 meters tall, 37 pitches, with cruxes at 7b+. It’s one of the closest comparisons to Free Rider in scale and difficulty. Auer later died in an avalanche alongside David Lama and Jess Roskelley in Banff National Park.
We also have Marc-André Leclerc, featured in the documentary The Alpinist. His solos in Patagonia, including Torre Egger, involved sustained mixed climbing in winter, often onsight, with no rescue possible. These weren’t just hard—they were objectively dangerous in ways that make even El Capitan look controlled by comparison. Leclerc also died in an avalanche during the film’s production.
And finally, there’s Free Rider on El Capitan, soloed by Alex Honnold. Four hours of total focus, executing every move perfectly. While many climbers roll their eyes at the constant obsession with free soloing, there’s no denying the impact of that ascent. The documentary introduced millions to climbing. Somewhere out there, it probably inspired the next Adam Ondra or Janja Garnbret—or maybe someone who will push free soloing even further.
Only time will tell.
