By Tom Gnyra

Base jumping, like rock climbing, is an activity that requires a certain level of risk tolerance and mitigation. Even with a keen sense of safety and a lifetime of experience, some of the most accomplished and safest base jumpers have met their maker by pursuing an inexorable love affair with gravity. The tragedy of Steph Davis’ book, Learning to Fly, is being privy to this truth and the ultimate ends of many of the book’s real characters; Mario Richard, Dean Potter and Betty M. Fletcher (Steph’s first Dog) have all, as base jumping culture puts it, gone in.

Learning to Fly, now the second release of Steph Davis’ second book, is as awe-inspiring as it is intense. As Steph puts it herself, she seems to not do anything without throwing herself into it at full speed. Although climbing is not the obvious focus of the book, something which I was led to believe due to my own presumptions (the title is the name of a famous Indian Creek splitter crack), the story follows Steph as she goes full tilt into the world of skydiving, base jumping and wingsuit flying. Peppered in throughout the pursuit of flight is, from time to time, a bold free solo or a hard project which tests Steph’s resilience and dedication to climbing. Honing her abilities to control fear through throwing herself out of aircraft and from the tops of colossal cliffs, she admits to having become more aware of fear and her abilities to control it after a dark period which left her with little to live for.

It is well known to climbers that some of the scariest free solos or most dangerous adventures have been during the darkest periods of one’s life. Steph Davis, sharing her darkest moments in this memoir, is no exception. Without the darkness that had seemingly consumed her life, this story may have never existed in its current form, as Steph comes to grips with how the Delicate Arch debacle may have changed the direction that her life was set to take.

Her then-husband and fellow climber turned base jumper, Dean Potter, had just free soloed Delicate Arch, one of the most famous arches in Arches National Park. Though the formation was technically legal to climb at the time, the National Park Service (NPS) was out for blood due to the obvious fragile nature of the formation. Steph, who had never climbed the arch nor planned on doing so, immediately became a co-conspirator to the NPS and eventually was dropped by one of her sponsors. Truth be told, the situation was definitely not black and white and the company who was between a rock and a hard place at the time, made a decision to support climbing access over personal goals of its athletes in regards to this delicate landmark. A hard choice nonetheless, as this left them with the obligation to dismiss talented athletes in lieu of supporting Dean’s free solo, an action which had immediately led to increased climbing access restrictions within Arches National Park.


Even with Dean apologizing and taking full responsibility, both Steph and Dean were promptly removed from the ambassador line up and became estranged due to the ensuing media circus stirred up, in part, by the NPS. Steph, admittedly never one to follow rules that were not steeped in logic, couldn’t believe the situation and was sent into an emotional tailspin that would eventually lead her back to the Mile-Hi drop zone in Boulder, Colorado. There, she reconnected with her brother and friends who jumped. She expedited the learning process of becoming a skydiver by jumping several times a day, almost every day of the week, for several months.

What follows is the story of love and regaining lost confidence. The story explores the continual hardships of being alone, abandoned by those who trusted and supported her until Dean’s free solo. The story doesn’t only focus on emotional aspects and internal dialogues, and also explains how one goes about getting into wingsuit base jumping. Contrary to popular belief, most wingsuit base jumpers don’t just throw themselves off a cliff after buying a wingsuit and a base rig, hoping for the best. Instead, most base jumpers are masters of flight, training their tracking skills during skydives and slowly working towards base jumping and wingsuit flight after years of practice. Learning to Fly is almost a manual on how to go about becoming a wingsuit flyer, if one were so inclined.

The book also explores her relationships to her new dog Cajun and, eventually, her second husband Mario Richard. Both tales are enthralling and keep us yearning as pages seem to turn quicker during the second half of the book. Fletch and Mario, both described with deep respect and love from Steph, must have been incredible beings and shining beacons for those lost in the darkness of despair.

The writing style is both positive and exuberates energy as the book comes to an end. Steph, who has not yet stopped climbing, base jumping, or flying, is still a force to be reckoned with in the community and a positive influence on the sport and the culture. For someone who has faced true adversity, it is really a pleasure to read a book that never directs negativity or blame towards anyone and instead realizes that life is a gift.

If you’ve already read the book and want to read the final chapter, I would consider getting another copy as it makes a great gift for any adrenaline junkie or aspiring skydiver. Even those who don’t care much for gravity based sports can relate to the experiences, as Steph doesn’t make her writing inapproachable or presumptuous. Reading the last chapter reveals that Steph, after Mario’s death, has still the same will to live that she learned through the Delicate Arch hardships. Her new, unshaken, modus operandi of living life to the fullest remains constant even through grieving her husband’s untimely death. As the pages turn, we understand how she must have felt after such an enormous loss. Even though other base jumpers have since passed away, Mario’s death is the only one mentioned in the final chapter as Steph realizes that this book is now, in a way, an ode to his life.

– Tom Gnyra is a climber and writer based in Calgary.