Never Stop Climbing
Mountaineering, Technology, Coffee, and Other Essentials

So much attention is paid to the climbs (yes I know that’s the idea) but it took Alan years of hard work to pull this campaign together. It didn’t help that he had to pitch it to once company after another in the midst of a severe economic downturn. It looked pretty bleak at times, almost all of the time actually, but Alan tackled the challenge like a true mountaineer – unwaveringly putting one foot in front of the other until he reached his goal. Ida would have been very proud.

I highly recommend his site, it’s how I found my way to this sport, and you can follow him on Twitter too.

Via Alan Arnette comes Daniel Dunn’s account of a SAR operation on Quandary Peak is an excellent read. I don’t know how he managed to capture the essence of climbing in such a short piece but he did:

This particular edge is all funky, rocks going everywhere, it’s off-angle and not clean at all. There is no jumping off involved, it’s more of a belly slide/crawl maneuver, but then I feel my weight being totally on the rope, and I’m hanging. And from here, for me at least, I’m almost on auto pilot. I’m so focused, so involved in the moment, that nothing else matters. I don’t think about the elevation, the drizzle that has started back up, the work that I didn’t do today, the lack of a girlfriend, or any of the other crap in my life. I think about the rock in front of me, keeping my left hand up, and my feet out straight. There is nothing else right now. Ultimate focus.

Colin Dinsmore (red jacket) and Shawn Gorea, set up anchor to lower the missing hikers off a ledge. They are on a pinnacle where the exposure on three sides ranges from 100 to 200 feet, which would most likely result in death should they fall. And then I’m on flat ground, that’s it. About 60 seconds and 200 feet straight down. I call up on the radio, “Off belay”, look up and give the thumbs up. I’m good. Wow! that was incredible, and exactly why I love being high in the mountains. It’s this whole Zen Buddhism thing, being totally committed to the moment, being right here, right now. It’s awesome.

Climbing is, or can be, what a Zen Master friend of mine once referred to as “single minded practice”. Which reminds me of the koan she gave me before one of my climbs:

Who Walks? Never give up until you get the answer….then follow that.

That’s a valid question at any elevation but altitude, physical effort, and a little exposure can sure bring it into focus quickly.

More on Mr. Brown from Wikipedia:

Brown is widely regarded as the outstanding pioneering English rock climber of the 1950s and early 1960s. He established an unprecedented number of classic new routes (especially in Snowdonia and the Peak District); that were at the leading edge of the hardest grades. Examples on Dinas Cromlech in the Llanberis Pass include “Cenotaph Corner” (1952, E1, with Doug Belshaw) and “Cemetery Gates” (1951, E1, with Don Whillans). As well as creating pioneering routes, he often helped create new types of “protection” to improve safety on climbs, and is acknowledged to have created some of the first “nuts” by drilling the thread out of nuts and threading the centre with a sling. So famous was he that the Post Office would often deliver letters simply addressed to “The Human Fly, UK”.

In this context, Brown’s mountaineering achievements in the Alps and Himalaya have often been overlooked: he made many significant ascents in the Alps in the 1950s with Don Whillans and other members of the Rock and Ice climbing club and, in 1955, the first ascent of the third highest mountain in the world, Kangchenjunga in the Nepalese Himalaya, with George Band. In 1956 he made the first ascent of the west summit of the Mustagh Tower in the Karakoram with Ian McNaught-Davis. The other members of the team, John Hartog and Tom Patey, reaching the main summit the next day.

Apart from his numerous classic rock climbs in Britain, and his considerable mountaineering achievements abroad, Joe is remembered for televised rock climbs in the 1960s, three in Snowdonia, and then, in 1967, of a spectacular new route on the Old Man of Hoy, a Scottish sea stack, with luminaries of the climbing world Ian McNaught-Davis and Sir Chris Bonington. Fifteen years later Brown repeated the climb on the Old Man on a popular TV documentary with his second daughter Zoe. Her bubbly personality led her to being chosen as a presenter on the children’s TV show Tiswas.

A really impressive video for an impressive first 14er summit:

Blanca Peak is the fourth highest summit in Colorado and highest in the Sangre de Cristo Range. It is most easily accessed via Lake Como trail, a.k.a. the “Trail of Tears” by the King family. Most of this video was shot in September of 2009, though there are shots of Blanca’s east face from the Huerfano River side shot in June of that year and a nice time lapse shot from companion peak Little Bear in 2007. This was brother Matt’s first 14er summit; a worthy accomplishment coming from Lincoln, NE. Look for very cool time lapse of Little Bear as seen from Blanca.

There’s more on Blanca over at 14ers.com.

If you’ve climbed a mountain or skied the backcountry you’re probably familiar with Fitz Cahall’s body of work. If not, take a few minutes to check out an episode of The Season and listen to a segment of his incredibly popular podcast The Dirtbag Diaries before reading through this interview. Do that and you’ll discover one of the most eloquent voices in outdoor media.

Your stories capture the essence of outdoor life because they’re created with an insider’s perspective. You’re able to bypass a lot of the well worn formats, the climbing epic or ski film for example, and say more about the subject’s motivation. So what’s your motivation? Are you more interested in speaking to a core audience (fellow athletes) or is there a desire to reach beyond the outdoor sports community?

It’s funny. I think Mark Twight said in “extreme alpinism” that there are two types of minds attracted to climbing and adventure. The first is the engineer’s mind. Calculated. Detail oriented. Efficient. The other is the artistic minds who come at climbing with a playful, creative, sometimes unprepared approach. I’ve always been the latter — for better or for worse the same is true in my storytelling. I sometimes struggle to read blow by blow by blow by blow — you get the point — accounts of climbing. The jargon, the minute details, I always found myself skimming them — they just never really lived up to how it actually felt to do the sport. But climbing writing by people like John Long, John Krakauer, my friend Kelly Cordes, Mark Jenkins it just leapt off the page for me because it was about people, about where they came from and where they were headed. The climbs were just vehicles for conveying those stories. So right from the start I avoided trip report style stories. I avoided the blow by blow. That said, I don’t ever want to have to explain “How they got the rope up there” in my writing, so I used simple jargon sparingly so a climber could understand what was happening, but my grandmother wouldn’t get lost in a story like “Help Wanted” about the climbers Disneyland employed to scale the Matterhorn roller coaster. I feel like I aim for a middle ground. I wanted a skier to appreciate and understand the overlap in climbing and vice versa. Our sports share so many emotions and lessons.

Tell us about your new project. How has The Season been received?

The Season is a 22-episode web TV project that follows five athletes (a rock climber, mountain biker, kayaker, snowboarder, boulderer) through a course of a single season in the northwest. Some of them are pros. Some aren’t, but all of them have captivating stories. It premieres on www.arcteryx.com and then people can download it from iTunes via our site www.theseasontv.com. We put majority of our money into our production and story design, so that it looked and felt unique. We stuck to our backyard — the Pacific Northwest. To give a sense of the story lines, our rock climber Matt Maddaloni designed a new piece of gear from scratch. He wants to climb this incredibly scary-looking, expanding flake on Squamish’s The Chief. The flake flexes so much that cams pop out. He could bolt it, but instead he decided to create a piece of gear called the anticam which pinches the flake. Hard to explain with words. So we followed him through that process from the engineering on his computer, to the building, to the testing, etc.

In terms of reception, we’ve had an enormous positive response. I wasn’t sure how it would do. I was proud of it, but it’s not like printing a magazine where you make a certain number of copies. You kind of just have to wait and see how many people start downloading and blogging about it. It’s done well in that regard. That said, I think people who want to see Chris Sharma work on a 5.15 are going to be disappointed. There is some amazing world class footage, but Bryan Smith, my co-creator and I give equal if not greater respect to story. There’s going to be talking in it….it’s not straight adventure sport porn. So just be warned. If all you want is climbing, this might not be the series for you. Fortunately, it’s free.

Music plays a significant role in your projects. You feature a lot of indie artists. How did you find them initially? Are they seeking you out now that your projects have so much visibility?

It’s a little of both. I’m really fortunate to work with a group that helps promote independent music acts and labels so I get a lot of music through them. Some people I know, or know through friends of friends. A few contact me. The music makes the show. I’d wanted to use just northwest music on The Season, but I didn’t have time to rally that.

Have you considered taking your storytelling on the road, along with a few bands, for live events?

That would be sick, but as of right now there are no plans for that. I’ve been working so hard lately, that I’m pretty excited just to be able to enjoy the upcoming climbing/biking season here in the northwest because I kind of missed out last year. That would be awesome, and there has been talk of creating a multimedia show; it’s just way on the back burner.

Is storytelling becoming more important than the adventure at this stage or has it always been primary for you?

Good question. One I’ve been grappling with recently. The last few years I’ve really had to put a lot of energy into my creative exploits — it’s the predicament of every small business owner. I missed going to Yosemite for the first time in a while last year. That said there is a time and place for everything and I’ve loved seeing the Diaries blossom and the Season come to life. Bryan has become a close friend in the process. My brother does our design work so it’s awesome to collaborate with him, so there are a lot of pluses. It is tough though — something a lot of go through. The other day I went out Index my local crag and got stomped on a route that I used to have wired. I was whipping every where on tiny wires and old pitons. I got frustrated and then I remembered that climbing is hard. That’s why I do it — to be pushed and to step up to that challenge. I love alpine rock routes — it can be intimidating to do that kind of thing out of shape especially after you used to be efficient, but I try to remember that I may just have to try hard, dig deep. I’d rather go and fall all over than not go. If I approach it like that it doesn’t take too many beat downs to get back to the point where it just feels like having fun.

That will always be a balance for me. If I’m climbing too much, I’m not writing, but also if I don’t climb, if I don’t maintain my relationship with the natural world, I won’t have anything to write about.

You often profile otherwise average people who find themselves driven, sometimes unexpectedly, to pursue adventure, risk, and extreme athletic performance. What common threads are emerging as you tell these stories?

Hmm…I would say that what I take away from the stories I encounter is — Don’t be afraid to surprise yourself. Whether that is in life or in climbing/adventure. Here’s a great non-climbing example. My good friend went to the dentist the other day. It was St. Patrick’s’ day. He was sick. No one likes going to the dentist. Going there sick is worse. He gets there and there are two cute girls working at the desk. They start chatting him up. My friend tends to be grumpy. They invite him out for the office party. He says no. He goes in. The hygienist asks him to come out. He tells her no. His dentists invites him to the party. He’s sitting there thinking “I’m sick. I’m tired. I’ll I want to do is go home, lie on the couch and watch T.V. but all these people keep asking me to go out.” So he decided to just go. He met this incredible, beautiful cool woman there. They’ve seen each other almost everyday since. Sometimes, you just have to surprise yourself, to step outside you comfort zone. We all struggle with this, but we are all capable of success. Sometimes, it’s just a simple as realizing that work, or sleep, or rest or comforts — they don’t make the world spin. If you go with out them for a bit, if you step outside of what feels normal, good things often come of that.

You appear to be making a living while not making mass market content (that’s a compliment). Are these vehicles viable from a financial perspective?

Yep. I won’t ever get rich doing this but I’m also able to pay my rent, drink beer, put gas in the car, pay for my health insurance (ouch) and save and donate a little money here and there. But it’s what I love and it makes me happy. And at this stage in my career I can’t really think of anything else I would want to do. I often get to do cool stuff for work, love the community I work with, get paid to think and am continually pushed.

So where is your storytelling career headed? Any plans to explore different media? Films? Novels? Games?

I think all those things are on the table, except the games. I hadn’t thought of that. Hmm…

You can also follow Fitz on Twitter @DirtBagDiaries.

Reinhold Messner is probably the greatest climber ever – definitely one of the toughest. It’s a must watch if you wonder why accomplished climbers do what they do.

Found over at Alan’s blog.

Climbing is difficult. My friend Alan Arnette reminds us that so is staying behind:

Climbers know what each day is like. They share the cold, the hunger, the pain in their lungs; and their hearts with teammates. They know the unknown.

Back home, the unknown is a mystery. Days go by with no information. No news is good news, they were told. But no news creates demons.

Then the phone rings, the computer beeps and all is well. Contact again. Smiles, a laugh, a tear of happiness. The team is together, focused on one goal.

A moment of clarity. The unknown is known. A deep breath. Then the silence returns as the connection ends.

As climbers we owe those who support us “back home” a great deal of gratitude.

Most know Washington state attorney Sara Lingafelter as “TheClimberGirl” or “Rock Climber Girl” – a prolific climbing blogger and key member of the Twitter climbing community. Her launch of the Twitter Climbers Wiki introduced dozens of Twitter climbers to each other and inspired at least one developer to start work on a very sophisticated Twitter climbing community site. Thankfully, she had enough time in her busy schedule to answer a few questions about climbing, technology, and her professional life. – John

Give us a brief overview of your climbing history. How long have you been at it?

I’m celebrating my fourth anniversary as a climber. I first set foot in the gym just after Christmas, 2004. Before that, I was a non-athlete. I sucked at competitive sports in high school, but always liked dancing, so resumed ballet classes when I was in college. Between college and climbing I had a brief stint as a distance road cyclist, but otherwise was relatively sedentary.

Do you remember what first sparked your interest in climbing?

The true credit goes to my bad-ass girlfriend Amy Moorhead. She took up climbing about a year and a half before I did. I’d never seen her so passionate and enthusiastic about anything, in the many years I’d known her. She is, truly, bad ass. I was terrified of heights, and swore I’d never set foot in that gym, despite her fun stories. That resolve held until my then-husband took up indoor climbing to rehabilitate a knee injury — he kept coming back from climbing so happy, enthusiastic, and energized. He got me a gift certificate for an introductory class for Christmas that year, and I was pissed! My response was “I’ll show you — I’m going to take the class, and I’ll HATE it the whole time!”

Famous last words. I was hooked from the moment I touched that first hold, despite my sometimes paralyzing fear of heights.

Once you decided to climb how did you turn it into reality? Did you take formal classes, sign up at gym, or have climbing friends who gave you the initial lessons?

I started out by taking the intro class at my local climbing gym. I fell instantly in love with the movement involved with working my way up the wall — it was like dancing, but better. I milked my two-week post-class membership, took my belay test, and then started climbing regularly.

I have done some training since — a lead climbing class at my gym; a two-day traditional gear and crack climbing clinic by the gym’s outdoor program; and we used to have an awesome women’s’ program at our gym — and I read a lot about climbing. But aside from those basics, the vast majority of my learning has come from the people I’m blessed to spend my climbing time with. I have a great core group of climbing partners who I’ve been privileged to travel the Western United States with over the last four years, climbing with, and learning from.

You’ve written that at times you “envy people for whom climbing can be an occasional activity… folks who can harness up a few times a year, and have fun climbing, without having climbing take over the rest of their lives… without making career and other sacrifices in order to indulge the climbing life.” Is this still true or have you embraced the fact that climbing is such a large part of your life?

It’s true, and not true. It’s hard to really describe. Either climbing has changed me, at a cellular level – or, climbing has brought me out in a way that I didn’t see coming – I don’t know which. Friends who haven’t seen me for a few years are a bit baffled by “the new Sara,” but most people who spend any time with me are enthusiastic about and supportive of this evolution. The part I envy is the relative ease of conventional living… existence is relatively calm and straightforward when you live in a house, work a regular day job, and spend your free time watching movies. There’s nothing easy or conventional about how I live now, but for me, my life now is much more full and happy than it has been in the past.

Steph Davis talks about making “fundamental life decisions impetuously, based on what feels right inside, and … never look[ing] back.” Before climbing, I was on the moving sidewalk. My life and decisions looked very “normal.” I spent all of my time and energy in a socially-acceptable caretaker mode, very much tuned to the needs and happiness of the people around me, with very little attention paid to myself. Since becoming a climber, I’ve become acutely tuned to myself – and although that’s made life much more complicated than it used to be, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I feel now like I make decisions at a cellular level – I don’t second guess myself, because I now have an unflappable trust of my own instincts. I definitely credit the strength, toughness, and experience I’ve gained from climbing with those changes.

So, yes – I’ve embraced the fact that climbing is a huge part of my life, and it’s one of the currents that moves me along. But, life would be a lot simpler, with a lot fewer difficult decisions, if I could crawl back into the “old Sara” sometimes!

How do you define climbing success?

I am firmly in the camp that the best climber is the one having the most fun. My first few years of climbing had some high points, but they weren’t my happiest years. I got frustrated and scared (terrified, really – sometimes to the point of hyperventilating on route) easily, I was still figuring out what it meant to be a climbing partner, and not all of my companions were happy, positive, encouraging partners.

The last year has definitely been the highlight so far… I’ve really come into my own as a climber, and have refined what to look for in climbing partners. I have had some tough and/or frustrating days in the last year, but I bounce back quickly (after ten minutes of deep breathing or a snack, instead of after days or weeks like it used to be). When I think about the 2008 climbing season, all I think of are funny stories, successes, laughter, beautiful places and routes, and fun. That’s unlike years past, where I remember a lot of scary and/or unhappy times.

Do you have any major climbing goals for 2009 or beyond?

My major climbing goals for 2009 are to do my best to remain uninjured, to surround myself with positive, fun climbing partners, and to climb every chance I get. Specific goals are to spend more time in Squamish, BC and really get my gear mojo on – I’ve done a bit of gear climbing elsewhere, but Squamish is the place I’ve had the most fun gear climbing. I’d like 2009 to be the year of getting competent at gear leading since my last two seasons of gear leading have definitely left something to be desired. I’d also like to get more solid leading sport 5.10s – 10s should be no problem for me given my fitness, strength and skill at this point, but mentally I still have work to do. It would be a real accomplishment for me if I got to a point of feeling confident and having fun leading 5.10 sport routes this year.

Do you have any interest in branching out into other climbing styles?

Yes. I still have yet to develop the power and strength to get off the ground bouldering, although I’m anticipating really hitting the boulders in 2009 after this winter’s training. I also got a baby taste of the alpine existence doing Eichorns Pinnacle in Tuolumne this summer – my overall fitness is finally where it needs to be for me to do the longer approaches necessary for some of the real classic technical routes. Finally – I still haven’t tried ice climbing. Despite much encouragement and many invitations, I’m not going to make it to Ourey this year – perhaps that’s a possibility for 2010.

Let’s move on to technology. I know that we share a common interest in building the online climbing community. You’ve been very active on Twitter and created the Twitter Climbers Wiki. How has this impacted your connection to the climbing community?

To set the stage for my answer… earlier this year, I found myself leaving work on a Friday with everything I needed for a weekend of climbing and camping in my car, and one by one my planned partners became unavailable. I changed plans, picked a new destination where I knew I’d be able to “happen upon” other climbers, and set out by myself. It was a real turning point for me. Until then, I’d always had trusted, known, more experienced climbing partners to guide me. It didn’t dawn on me that it may not always be like that. My desire to climb outweighed my shyness, and I very quickly got used to the idea of making new climbing friends everywhere I go.

My climbing partners all tease me about the fact that I introduce myself to every climber I meet…But, talking to other climbers, hearing their stories, sharing what I’ve learned and learning from others, has been a blessing. I love the idea that now I have friends, or friends of friends, in just about any climbing area in the U.S. (and some, abroad).

Where do you see the technology and related community heading in the next year or two?

That’s a tough one. I think we’re a small enough demographic as techie climbers, that I don’t see any huge commercial investment in climbing community technology. I think that we’ll see an evolution of the ideas we’re all talking about now — Tom’s (Tom Markiewicz) on the right track with his ThinkClimbing project.

I’d have to give some thought to why I lean toward and see more potential in the Twitter climbing community over other sites (like rockclimbing.com) — I don’t have an instant answer for that. I do occasionally read and participate in the rockclimbing.com forums, summitpost.org forums, and more regularly participate at cascadeclimbers.com — but I’ve met more folks who have turned into real life friends through Twitter, so far.

Have you considered using some of these tools to document your climbs in real-time or would you find it all too obtrusive and complicated? Will we see you tweeting from a wall or summit one of these days?

I work a part time job, I own a small business, I operate a number of side projects that are technology-dependent, and I also have a bunch of volunteer projects that involve technology. My Blackberry generally gets turned off when I arrive at a climbing destination, then turned back on when I get about half-way home. Climbing trips are the one time I really try to get away from work, and part of that, is having the Blackberry off. I really love writing reflective trip reports after the fact. A phone/camera company sent me a wireless device to participate in a couple-month “document your adventures” program and the thing never left the top of my pack. Real-time tool use isn’t complicated, but it’s a distraction I rarely engage in.

That’s not to say it never happens… you’ll see an occasional tweet or cell phone pic from me on some climbing days!

Photo © Shawn Campbell

You’ve done some pro bono work as a lawyer for the climbing community. Do you see your career further merging with your interest in climbing at some point?

Part of my chatting up climbers is talking to them about what they do for a living, since I’m still working on building a career that allows me to live the life I want to live. I took a step in that direction in 2008 by going to work for the Puget Sound Partnership – even though I’m doing work related to Puget Sound, I’ve learned a ton about issues that are also related to climbing (public lands, parks issues, etc.).

I’m actively working on transitioning to a work life more connected with the outdoor industry and/or climbing policy. I don’t have the patience anymore to do work that I don’t love, so 2009 is shaping up to be the year where I build a career based on work I love, and that means the environment and the outdoors.

Alan Arnette makes his home in Colorado, where he climbs frequently. He’s been a regular visitor to some of the highest mountains in the world – Denali, Shishapangma, Aconcagua, Orizaba and Everest and others. His web site is a fantastic resource for anyone interested in climbing. Alan has used the attention his climbs have received to raise funds and awareness for the Cure Alzheimer’s Fund. He has also been a significant resource for us as we prepared to launch Never Stop Climbing and we were thrilled he agreed to this interview. – John

You started climbing rather late in life at 38. How difficult was it for you to get fit and how do you stay climbing-ready (or close to it) today?

I had always tried to stay in decent shape but with a job that had me on the road 3 days a week and crossing continents it was tough – very tough. I was your basic weekend warrior, climbing whenever I could. The funny thing is that I excelled at cross-country and track in high school but stopped cold once I started working and never really exercised diligently until I started climbing around age 38.

Once I started climbing, running and climbing became my focus. While on the road I would work out in hotel gyms on the weights then run the hotel stairs late at night – I was always afraid I would get arrested! Today my basic routine is climbing (what else?) and lot’s of time on the elliptical machine since my knees will not let me do the long runs anymore.

You wrote that “Mountains test your essence.” How has your understanding of yourself changed after dozens of climbs?

Climbing, especially hard routes or at extreme altitudes tends to focus your mind on what is important to you. I am fond of saying that I have turned back on more mountains than stood on the summit. That is ok with me. I thoroughly enjoy the overall experience and the summit is a bonus not the measure of success – for me. While my absolute goal on a big climb is to summit safely, I don’t dwell on it if I don’t get there as long as I gave it my best effort.

Can you point to a particular climb or moment where you started to gather real confidence in your ability to take on difficult high-altitude climbs?

Yes, it was on my climb of Ama Dablam in 2000. I saw it a few years before and considered it impossible for me given my skills. However, I made the summit in good style and while trekking through the Khumbu on the way home my guide, David Hiddleston, asked me if I had ever thought about Everest. Of course I had but never admitted it to anyone. But with his simple question and my safe summit of Ama Dablam, a seed was planted that would influence me for the rest of my life.

Approaching Camp 3 on Ama Dablam, Nepal

You’ve expressed some regret that your focus on Himalayan goals distracted you from some of the climbing opportunities in South America. Do you have plans in the region beyond Aconcagua and your other climbs? Would you have liked to have tackled some of the mountains there earlier in your climbing career?

While I have climbed and trekked in South America three times I still prefer the Himalayas. Both have incredible mountains and offer world-class challenges but the people of the Himalaya mountain villages stand out to me. They live in such simple conditions yet have such big smiles and unselfish attitudes that I always leave there for the better. That said, one day I would like to attempt the high peaks of Peru.

Alan on the summit of Acancagua

In reading your dispatches it quickly becomes apparent that you are a very deliberate and cautious climber. Can you point to any single event where your judgment failed you and you made what could have been a critical mistake? If so, how did that event impact your climbing style from that point forward?

I try to be aware and cautious on my climbs both for my own safety as well as that of my teammates. I think it is each climber’s responsibility not to put yourself in a rescue situation or to assume others will take care of you in a crisis.

Coming down to Camp 1 on Cho Oyu in 1998 after our summit bid, I had a very heavy pack and became careless. While on a ridge above the Camp 1, I deliberately did not clip into the fixed rope thinking it was safe terrain and I was in complete control. Well, I tripped over my own feet and went sprawling towards a 3,000’ drop-off. Thankfully I self arrested my fall at the edge of the ridge. It was at that point that I vowed never to become over-confident again.

Alan on Broad Peak, Pakistan

In 1997 you helped bury 42 year old climber Alex Yaggi who, if I read it correctly, died unexpectedly in his sleep after a successful summit. You obviously struggled with this event and its implications in your 2002 Death on Everest essay. Are your feelings about death and risk in climbing still evolving or is the issue resolved for you?

Not an expedition goes by when at some point I think about Alex. While I never knew him well, I knew him well enough that his death was a shock to my very essence. Deaths occur on all mountains and happen to climbers from amateur to professional. It is part of the contract of serious climbing. The lesson I learned from burying Alex is that you never know what toll high altitude can take on you so be as prepared as you can and err on the side of caution.

You climb in support of the Cure Alzheimer’s Fund. Are you satisfied with your charity efforts so far and what advice would you give folks like ourselves who wish to climb for a cause?

It is a great honor to climb to raise money for Alzheimer’s. I recently visited my mother who is suffering from the disease and I am more determined than ever to help find a way to prevent this from happening to future generations.

The Cure Alzheimer’s Fund was a great partner in getting the word out about my ‘Road Back to Mt. Everest: Memories Are Everything’ five climb journey but there is so much more we can do.

My best advice would be to find a nationwide partner who is willing to promote your effort to as many people as possible. Fund raising, especially in tough economic times, is a numbers game so you need to reach as many people as possible to raise the money.

You are a self-funded climber. Have you considered working with sponsors?

I was very fortunate to have had a good career that allowed me to climb extensively but I have reached the limits of that model today. I would love to work with a sponsor that would help in the Alzheimer’s fund raising through a partnership with my climbing.

What would you do if a sponsor with deep pockets allowed you to create your dream expedition?

I would attempt the 7 Summits, including a fourth attempt of Everest. While not the most technically challenging climbs, they would present an opportunity to take the Alzheimer’s message to each continent on the planet. Alzheimer’s is a disease that potentially impacts every person on earth as we live longer and longer. The economic impact can easily bankrupt the largest health care systems much less those in smaller countries. It is truly an impending epidemic that we must address before it is too late.

Do you have any big goals in front of you at the moment? What’s next?

Nothing ready to make public but I am always thinking. I am currently doing presentations to schools and anyone who will have me showing my climbing pictures and talking about Alzheimer’s. Also I am staying busy climbing my Colorado mountains. But just when I think it is time to hang up my crampons, I get the itch to return to high altitude. Mountains are special to me and while not every mountain has loved me, I love them all!

Alan lives in Colorado and can be reached at climbing@alanarnette.com. He is available for individual presentations or multi-day workshops including team building, business consulting or individual coaching.

The most often asked question of anyone who does a dangerous or unique undertaking is “Why?” My altimeter watch shows that I have climbed over 300,000 vertical feet, 90,000 on Everest expeditions alone. I must like it! Here is my clumsy attempt to answer the question for me:

Why do you climb? An age-old question first publicly asked in the 1920s of George Mallory during his attempts on Everest. His incredibly complex or dismissive answer was “Because it is there.” Similar to mine and no less understood by strangers, acquaintances, friends and some of my family.

To see the sun rise before it does. To understand fellow climbers in an accelerated environment. An alternative to the day-to-day world. To see if you can do it. To spend time with yourself and see if you are really whom you think you are. To discover your limits.

Climbing captures the allure and mystery of life for me. First there is the peacefulness of being high on a mountain as the sun peaks around the Earth. Then there is the camaraderie of friends being roped together as they work up a mountain not as individuals but as a team. Finally, there is the challenge of taking a step on a steep slope knowing that a mistake could be deadly but the next step will be rewarding.

After six weeks of climbing up and down the Khumbu Icefall, Western Cwm and Lhotse Face, I leaned heavily on my right knee. My headlamp showed pure white snow at my foot – a sharp contrast to my bright yellow boots. I felt another wave coming over me. I gagged once again and struggled for breath. Even with my oxygen bottle turned on, I was having serious difficulties at 27,200′ on Mt. Everest. After a quiet discussion with myself, I turned around to return to the South Col and Camp 4. My 2002 summit of Everest would have to wait.

A test of my body or of my mind?

France, Tour Ronde, 1996, I am climbing a 60% slope on mixed ice and rock. I am roped to Jouergen, my German guide. I thought I was in good shape but this 12,000-foot peak is testing my condition. I plant my ice axe in one secure position and then another. I concentrate on kicking the front points of my crampons solid into the ice. At ten thousand feet it is easy, and then the summit tests my strength. I take each step one by one. Jouergen asked me if I am tired. I answer “no”. He replies “I would be surprised if you were not.” An instant dose of reality. From now on, I tell the truth.

I once heard that adventure is defined as when you are doing it you pray to God to get you out alive and once it is over you pray to God to do it again.

Alaska, the Granite Range, 1999, Howie and I are almost up the couloir when we hear the telltale CRACK of ice breaking. We instantly fall to the snow, plant our ice axes, cover our heads and hold on to each other. The fall passes and we acknowledge the danger with a smile. It was a small “water-fall” avalanche that covered us with ice, snow and rock. Twenty minutes later, another covers us and Howie looks at me with the unspoken question to which I respond “Let’s go down.”

Danger seems to drive the adrenaline that keeps us going. Maybe this is a commentary on the lack of excitement in our everyday lives. While watching the soccer game or band concert brings family satisfaction, it is often what we do for ourselves that brings personal satisfaction.

Climbing is a sport that requires you to be fit, mentally in control, a team player, patient and accepting of failure. This last characteristic is very misunderstood. Consider spending from 6 to 18 weeks attempting a summit only to be turned back by weather, equipment failure, your own inadequacies or something else: a team-member’s inadequacy. Do you place blame or just go on? What do you learn?

My life is a balance of three areas: family, work and myself. I try to focus on each area while not ignoring another area. I find that when I get out of balance, my overall happiness suffers as does the other areas. My personal time is focused on climbing, today.

Mountains test your “essence”. They bring out your best and your worst. They are completely unforgiving, impersonal and answer to no higher authority. When you agree to climb one of these high mountains, you declare formally or informally how to dispose your body upon death. This exercise makes declaring beneficiaries simple.

August 1997, Cathy and I are sitting on our patio and discussing my “body disposal” assuming the worst for the upcoming Cho Oyu expedition. I have the legal form on the table for both of us to read. The choices: 1) bury on the mountain, 2) cremate in Katmandu or 3) return to your home. By the way, choices 2 and 3 are conditional upon being able to get your body off the mountain – highly unlikely in the vast majority of the cases.

Why does someone go on these expeditions knowing what you know? Many people I have met on these expeditions are very successful in life already. Almost everyone has the full support of the closest family members. For me this is without question and gives me strength. So why risk EVERYTHING for a mountain summit?

Standing on the summit of Ama Dablam, October 2000, I feel grateful. It was only 3 years ago when I first saw this beautiful mountain and privately declared it an impossible dream. It was too high, too steep and too technical plus I had neither the time nor the money to climb these “impossible” mountains. I was happy just trekking in the Khumbu. But something got inside me on that trip. I could feel my lungs crying out yearning for more oxygen. I could see myself taking one slow step, stopping for a deep breath and then forcing another step. I could see myself pushing towards the summit.

I read the message on New Years Eve 2003, David Hiddleston had died on Mt Tasimen in an avalanche. My friend and my guide on Ama Dablam and Everest was gone. Doing what he loved. His friends and family, in their grief, expressed their understanding.

Lying in the medical tent with an IV in my arm, I think about the last six days, the last six weeks. Everest had been hard, very hard. I was suffering from a bacterial lung infection and dehydration. I was glad to be back in base camp after a two day ordeal from the Balcony. No regrets, no self-absorbed pity party – at least at that time. Get to Katmandu and then Colorado and then maybe I could reflect on the experience. Consider what had happened, what I learned and what next. Attempt peaks a lower altitude. Go after more technical mountains? Maybe rock climb the locals. Canada, there a lot’s of mountains there! Or should I stop climbing while I am still alive?

June 2006. At 20,800′ on Broad Peak I am having the best day and the worst day. The snow under my crampons is soft yet solid. The views of K2 and the Godwin-Austin Glacier are mind-blowing. I see my friends ahead and behind me and draw comfort from their company. However, deep inside, I know it is over. The body is not right. The risks too high. Time to come home. Before …

I wrote in a dispatch from Broad Peak “… as I prepare to go up the Hill, I ask for all your positive energy for me and my teammates. Wilco and Gerrard are making their bid tonight. More climbers tomorrow and more later. We will move from camp to camp higher up the Hill and make the final bid from Camp 4. The whole process will take 4 or 5 days. This is why we are here. This is when the test really begins. There are a thousand reasons to stop and only a few to push on. And those are personal and unique to each climber. Please accept our love of mountaineering. Please accept our result regardless of what it is. Please know that this is what makes us alive, it is the fuel that drives us on an individual level …”

So, Why? Is the answer to reach the ever-higher altitudes on earth? Or is climbing simply a way of seeing how far you can take yourself? The brutal honesty it forces? The clear understanding of the consequences? The bonds developed when life is simplified? The insight that personal growth is accelerated when you push? Or is it just because?

Alan Arnette makes his home in Colorado, where he climbs frequently. He’s been a frequent visitor to some of the highest mountains in the world – Denali, Shishapangma, Aconcagua, Orizaba and Everest and others. His web site is a fantastic resource for anyone interested in climbing. Alan has used the attention his climbs have received to raise funds and awareness for the Cure Alzheimer’s Fund.

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