Available on: PC, PS5
Looking up at the towering 9,000 metres of Mount Kami, it feels impossible to conquer. Yet, climbing every single metre of it is exactly what The Game Bakers’ climbing sim Cairn asks of those who step into the shadow of the gargantuan, unconquered peak. Venturing forth as Aava, a mountaineer who has left her life behind to tackle the ascent, those expecting a short hike will be quickly humbled. The path upward is punishing, with a single misplaced step proving fatal. But those willing to undertake the climb will be rewarded with one of gaming’s most unique and soulful experiences to date.
Making your way up the mountain is decidedly intuitive. Each limb can be controlled and placed separately, finding its grip along the ever-bumpy surfaces. It is as much enjoyable puzzle as it is life-or-death challenge. Scanning the rock for a crevasse to slip one foot into or a crack for a hand brings real satisfaction, as you piece together a safe path upwards. Looming over every placement is the knowledge that the only salvation between Aava and the abyss below comes from a limited number of pitons. These can be embedded in the rock to serve as mini-checkpoints. Be warned, though: overconfidence has no place in Cairn. Scrambling over surfaces without a proper grip will leave limbs shaking and promptly send Aava plunging mercilessly into the void.
The climb may be punishing, and the harsh sting of a fall — losing 30 minutes of hard-won progress —never gets any easier, but it rarely feels unfair. If anything, the brutality only fuels the urge to try again. You navigate limb by limb, pushing and pulling, picking each placement with pinpoint precision, until you can practically feel the rock biting into Aava’s hands through your own clenched thumbsticks. And when she finally hauls herself onto solid ground once more, the sense of personal achievement is nothing short of euphoric.
Looking down and knowing that every inch of the journey so far was conquered by you alone, delivers a level of satisfaction few games can match.
It is on that solid ground that Cairn opens up, offering space to explore its beautiful environments. The game allows time to pause and gaze in awe as deer dart past a still lake, or to pick through its many ancient ruins. There is even the joy of running into (and away from) a cave-dwelling bear. This is a world that encourages exploration, and more often than not you will be rewarded with one of its many surprises for doing so.
On foot, Cairn’s survival elements kick in. It is not just a fall that can set you back. Food, drink, sleep, and the very real threat of freezing to death are all on the cards. Crucially, the balance is just right. Resource management is always on your mind, but never so overwhelming that it derails the central climb, instead adding to the immersive whole.
As Aava takes stock and cozies up in her bivouac, the game starts feeding you pieces of her backstory, and it becomes quickly clear that threaded through Cairn are some big questions. The game never shies away from digging into the philosophical pull of it all — why would anyone choose to take on something so life-threatening, and is the obsession it demands ever truly worth it? These ideas are bolstered by the stories littered throughout its world: notes left behind by climbers who did not make it, carvings on walls from a civilisation long swallowed by time. All these little details chip away at your soul as relentlessly as the climb works Aava’s fingertips, creating an experience that, by journey’s end, is undoubtedly profound.
Standing 5,000 metres up above the world, looking down and knowing that every inch of the journey so far was conquered by you alone, delivers a level of satisfaction few games can match. And despite the gruelling odyssey, once the controller is finally put down, it is the beauty of Cairn that holds fast. In the end, it is simply doing what the game asks of you, putting one hand in front of the other, time and time again, and letting the mountain take its hold on you.
