Thin air can be a bargain. On a higher, colder ridge, elite climbers sometimes spend fewer kilojoules than on a gentler flank that ends at the same summit height, even though the ridge forces extra vertical gain and harsher exposure.
The key advantage is surface physics, not heroism. Cold ridges carry firmer neve and ice, which deform less under each step; in mechanical terms, reduced substrate plasticity cuts the work done in repetitive foot penetration and limits eccentric muscle damage. On sun baked slopes, every stride is a mini leg press through deep snow, multiplying metabolic cost and accelerating glycogen depletion. Add micro slips and constant balance corrections, and oxygen consumption rises despite the milder gradient.
Aerodynamics then tilts the equation. Ridges shed wind and spindrift, but they also expose climbers to stronger flow that strips warm boundary layers from clothing, allowing more efficient convective heat transfer and reducing the need for heavy insulation that increases load. Less mass means lower mechanical work per meter climbed. Finally, a steeper, more direct line shortens horizontal distance, so even with a sharper angle the total impulse on joints can fall, especially when movement stays within efficient ranges of joint torque and cadence.
What looks like needless suffering from afar is often a quiet calculation of snow mechanics, thermoregulation, and biomechanics, written in each deliberate step along the ridge edge.
