
(Photo: iStock)
No, it's not a divorce hearing held on a mountain top. Instead, the phrase alpine divorce captures an unhappy (and apparently all-too-common) phenomenon that plays out in the Great Outdoors, in which women set off for a hike or nature walk with their male partners only to be left behind because they were deemed too slow or because the pair got into an argument. (A recent Globe and Mail story cleverly traced the concept back to a 19th century short story called “An Alpine Divorce,” about a grim marital hike with a dark twist.)
The phrase gained traction in March 2025 after a TikTok post went viral. In the video, which has so far garnered nearly 30 million views, a woman makes her way through a rocky landscape alone after being abandoned by her male partner.
“You go on a hike with him in the mountains, but he leaves you alone by yourself and you realize he never liked you to begin with,” read the caption by everafteriya, the handle of a Las Vegas photographer.
Her post struck a chord.
Among the nearly 25,000 comments on her ordeal were other women chiming in to share their own versions of the same experience, suggesting that this style of abandonment isn't uncommon.
The ethics of leaving someone behind in the woods or on a trail seem clear: it’s a decidedly awful thing to do, and can have a lot of unintended and even life-threatening consequences. That ethical consideration becomes even more serious when the hike involves rugged terrain, bad weather and/or high altitudes.
This past February, an Austrian chef and mountaineer was found guilty of gross negligence and manslaughter for leaving his girlfriend behind during a hike to the summit of Austria’s highest mountaintop.
An Austrian judge gave Thomas Plamberger a suspended prison sentence and fine after he left his girlfriend, Kerstin Gurtner, just below the summit of the Grossglockner in January of 2025. The 33-year-old Gurtner, who was also an avid alpinist, reportedly died of hypothermia.
The hike was marred by poor judgment, terrible weather and what rescuers say were repeated rejections of their attempts to contact the couple. In his defence, Plamberger claimed he didn’t see the calls from rescuers and that when he finally did contact them, he left Gurtner behind to get help. (He’s reportedly set to appeal the judgment.)
During the trial, the court heard the testimony of one of Plamberger’s former girlfriends, who testified he had left her behind on the same mountain in 2023 after they argued and her headlamp died.
Among the women talking about this phenomenon, not everyone in agreement about how to interpret its gender dynamics. Many professional women alpinists have bristled at the interpretation of their vulnerability, for example.
Adventurer and dogsledder Blair Braverman told The Guardian she’d be more worried for the man who wanders away from her on a mountain than herself. “I think it’s interesting that [the term] assumes that the woman is the one with less capability,” she said.
Guertler’s mother, who testified on Plamberger’s behalf, also took issue with the characterization of her daughter as a victim.
“It makes me angry that Kerstin is being portrayed as a stupid little thing,” she told a German newspaper earlier this year. “Kerstin was in top physical condition. And she had already mastered far more difficult climbing tours, both alone and with her boyfriend.”
While it’s not entirely fair to draw a direct comparison between being abandoned on a nature trail on a Sunday afternoon by a boyfriend with being left to fend for yourself on Austria’s highest mountaintop at night in the middle of a snowstorm, the discussion around the dynamics of care, concern and even courage that the phenomenon brings up for women has generated a lot of meaningful responses.
For women who aren’t professional climbers, adventurers or alpinists, getting left on a trail by a male partner may not rise to the level of a high-profile court case. But it does raise questions about the type of person you want to go on a hike with in the first place.
Flannery Dean is a writer based in Hamilton, Ont. She’s written for The Narwhal, the Globe and Mail and The Guardian.