The Alpine Divorce
On Partnership, Abandonment, and the Obligation That Runs in Every Direction
Living in Steamboat, you learn quickly that the person you’re with on a bluebird day isn’t necessarily the person you want with you when a squall hits the Zirkels. There’s a term in alpine climbing for what happens when that partner abandons you at the hardest point on the route. They call it the Alpine Divorce. I’ve seen this play out across the entire cap table — the investor who goes dark during a bridge round, the founder who “forgets” to invite an early backer to the next call, the co-founder who starts making unilateral decisions the moment the cash runway gets short. It always happens at the worst possible moment.
If you haven’t seen it yet, you will. The term has gone viral in the last several months, sparked by a real case in Austria where a climber left his girlfriend on Grossglockner, the country’s highest peak, in freezing conditions near the summit. She didn’t make it down. He was convicted of gross negligent manslaughter. The outdoor community has been processing it ever since, and the phrase has taken on a life of its own on TikTok and beyond.
The climbing definition is stark: one partner abandons the other when conditions get hard and the summit feels less certain than it did at the trailhead.
The business definition is quieter, more socially acceptable, and more common than anyone talks about.
But here’s what I’ve learned after watching enough of these play out from both sides of the table: the Alpine Divorce is not just something investors do to founders. Founders do it too. And understanding both versions is the only way to protect yourself from either one.
The Investor Version
This one is well documented in private, never talked about publicly. The capital partner shows up early with energy and conviction. The term sheet gets signed. For a while, things feel solid. Then something goes wrong. Not catastrophically wrong. Just the kind of wrong that tests whether the relationship was real.
And that’s when the calls stop getting returned.
The investor version of the Alpine Divorce isn’t a loud argument — it’s a slow fade. It’s the “let’s circle back after the quarter” email when you’re thirty days from zero cash. It’s a partner who was texting you every weekend during the bull market suddenly becoming “impossible to reach” the moment the weather turns. The founder is still on the face. The partner has quietly found somewhere warmer to be.
What makes it damaging is the timing. You discover it at the crux, which is by definition the moment you most needed someone to hold the other side of the rope.
The Founder Version
This one gets talked about even less, which is why it causes so much damage.
Founders do it, too. They’ll take the early-stage capital when nobody else is looking, then “edit out” those same investors the moment a sexier lead or a strategic shift makes the original cap table look inconvenient. The updates get shorter. The transparency vanishes. You realize you’ve been cut loose only after the new deal is already signed.
Sometimes founders do it to each other. Two people build something together, one of them starts to see the summit differently, and instead of a hard conversation, they just start making unilateral moves. The other person figures it out slowly, then all at once.
The Alpine Divorce is not just a capital partner problem. It’s a partnership problem. And it runs in every direction.
What to Do About It
1. Before you rope up, ask about a deal that went sideways.
Before you rope up, ask about a deal that went sideways. I don’t care about their wins. I want to know how they acted when a company was failing. Did they stay on the pitch or did they cut the rope? That answer tells you more than any reference call.
2. Define the crux before you start climbing.
In climbing, experienced partners talk through the hard sections before they’re standing on them. In business, this means having explicit conversations about what happens when things go sideways. What does bridge financing look like if we miss the quarter? What do we do if the lead investor passes? What’s the conversation we’ll have before we stop returning each other’s calls? Most partnerships avoid this conversation. The ones that have it are the ones that survive the crux.
3. Silence is a decision. Treat it as one.
Treat silence as a “No.” If your investor stops returning texts, don’t make excuses for them. They haven’t “lost the email” — they’ve mentally checked out. Force the hard conversation immediately so you aren’t wasting oxygen chasing a ghost.
4. The obligation runs both ways.
Founders are not the only ones who are owed honesty at the crux. Investors are too. If you’re a founder who knows the story has changed, tell your investors before they figure it out from the outside. If you’re an investor who has mentally moved on, say so instead of going quiet and letting the founder waste six months chasing a yes that was already a no. The outdoor world is correctly processing the ethics of abandonment right now. The business world should do the same.
5. Remember who stayed.
I’ve watched founders come out of genuinely brutal stretches and talk almost exclusively about the partners who didn’t bail. Not with bitterness toward the ones who left. With a clarity and loyalty toward the ones who stayed that becomes the foundation of every relationship they build afterward. The Alpine Divorce clarifies everything. Quickly. It’s painful, but it’s honest information.
The outdoor community is finally holding people accountable for what happens when conditions get hard and a partner doesn’t make it down. That conversation is long overdue in venture, too. If you’re going to rope up with someone, be the person who stays on the wall when the storm hits.
What’s the most important question you’ve ever asked a business partner before committing to something serious?
I’m Andrew Luter, founder of Rio Chato Investments. We back early-stage outdoor recreation and lifestyle brands -- the kind of companies building gear and experiences for people who’d rather be outside. I’m based in Steamboat Springs, Colorado, which is basically a full-time reminder of why this space matters.
#OutdoorIndustry #EarlyStageInvesting #FounderAdvice #Partnership #OutdoorBrands #AlpineDivorce #RioChato #StartupLife