I recently got back (almost exactly a month ago) from a month long climbing trip in Nepal with some friends.
We had three guides, all three of whom have climbed Everest multiple times. One of our guides, who has summited 5 times, described Everest as his "bad habit".
As a relative newbie to high altitude mountaineering (the highest I got was ~19,850 feet), climbing in Nepal was really, really hard. You are never warm, the food sucks, camping for long periods at high altitude sucks rather a lot, you are never clean, altitude sickness sucks, pooping in an 8" hole in the ground sucks, not eating much protein sucks, but… the views are spectacular, the people you meet are amazing, the place itself is awe-inspiring, the wildlife is interesting and diverse, the peace of the place is fantastic, and the mountains… well, the mountains are something special.
I can see why some people spend their lives chasing summits, and I can also see why some people, having seen their first summit, turn away from the mountains forever and never come back. While we were in Nepal, within two days of our summit push, our head guide had two friends die. One died on Cho Oyu in an avalanche while traversing a glacier. The other died on a relatively unknown mountain in Tibet. Both were world-class mountaineers. These were people who no mountaineer in the world would accuse of being irresponsible, inexperienced, unprofessional, or, even, unsafe. They were serious mountaineers with long resumes and respected records.
That said, exploration is always a serious business, and when you're out at the sharp end, sometimes you get cut. Without these people, however, and the part of humanity which they represent, we would never expand our experience of what it is to be human and our knowledge of the space around us.
Even with Mount Everest, where the experience has been honed to the point where there are professionals whose entire job it is to make sure clients make it to the top… it's friggin' hard. Having been to nearly 20k feet, I have nothing but respect for people who can make it to 29,029 feet. Climbing that far is hard, no matter how you do it. I can only imagine the feeling of being on top of the world, and quite frankly I'm not sure I'm up to the challenge, personally, of tackling Mt. Everest. I will certainly never make fun of anyone who has climbed that mountain.
Given the difference in oxygen between where I got to and the top of Everest, I don't think I can comment on the impairment of cognitive facilities climbing Mount Everest imparts. However: there's a good reason most responsible climbs leave a controller in radio contact from base camp or Camp 1 in charge of final decisions. Oxygen deprivation is a serious impediment to rational decision making.
So, yeah, go ahead and don't climb where you don't feel comfortable. Just don't go judging those who do without having done a high climb yourself.
I'm going to go ahead and judge. 1 in 10. Your have a 10% chance of dying if you attempt a summit, right? How much pain is your untimely death going to cause if it happens? How many everest orphans and widows are there? Include in that the considerable cost and time investment to do this when you could be creating something, exploring something that has a conceivable chance of helping humanity, or just plain investing in helping others.
No, this is a hugely selfish act. Other folks are right that people are indeed wired to get addicted to these types of feelings, but every day people choose NOT to give into their wiring. I respect THAT a lot more than climbing Everest.
Anticipating a straw man: No, we don't have a duty to eliminate all unnecessary risk from our lives. But a single act with a 10% mortality rate seems reckless.
It takes all kinds. People with the balls to summit Everest are rare, and they provide great stories to humanity, just the same as astronauts, deep sea divers or spelunkers. I can admire that because it's unusual and inspiring, something that can not be said for people playing it safe.
I won't judge you for your judgement, and I might even share it for people mountaineers who have kids, etc, but I can not agree with your premise that risking death is automatically bad because of how others might feel about it. There's more to life than staying alive.
I don't think the point is risking life is bad in all cases. It depends on the possible gain. A simple example is a lot of people consider freedom something worth dying for.
But what is the gain here of climbing Everest after it has been climbed hundreds of times? Astronauts clearly benefit humanity with more than just great stories. I can't see much marginal benefit for society for each additional Everest climber.
I'm not saying it's wrong or selfish to continue to climb Everest. For the climber him/herself I imagine the benefits are enormous and perhaps worth the risk of life. But I just can't see much benefit for anyone else.
But I just can't see much benefit for anyone else.
I and my oldest son both have a form of cystic fibrosis. I have figured out how to get us well (we actually work together on it but I do most of the research). Reading up on altitude sickness was an Aha! moment for me. In some ways, medical science doesn't have much of value to offer me in terms of thinking through the problem and coming up with new solutions. Medical science is mostly about finding better drugs rather than a better understanding of the process involved in what is typically a slow torturous death where your lungs deteriorate until you qualify for a lung transplant (assuming you don't have bad habits that disqualify you).
Reading this piece was personally meaningful to me in surprising ways that I probably can't adequately express. I belong to entire communities operating in their own medical equivalent of "The Dead Zone", where lack of oxygen, high doses of medication and so on create very emotional, inflammatory discussions and many people seem incapable of thinking logically. I wrestle continuously with both how and whether to offer assistance in the face of enormous hostility and long odds that it will really do any good. Even people who are interested in what I am doing sometimes write me and bluntly state up front "I will never make the extreme lifestyle changes you have made. But can you tell me more about ... (some food or supplement)?"
Stories about mountain climbing, altitude sickness et al are the absolute best analogies I have tripped across for what I am dealing with. I don't care if mountain climbers are crazy or selfish or whatever. I am grateful for the information they provide. I have a medical condition that forces most people with it to basically gradually suffocate. So I find value in the stories and experiences of mountain climbers. Also, living at 3000 feet above sea level for about 2.5 years, thereby forcibly expanding my lung capacity, probably helped save my life when I spent a year at death's door and was bedridden for 3.5 months and finally got a diagnosis after a lifetime of being treated like a hypochondriac.
Some people are facing things like this totally involuntarily and their situations are difficult to talk about in normal company because it is viewed pathetically rather than like a heroic struggle. I don't need any pity-parties. I am perfectly capable of wallowing in self-pity without any assistance. I need some kind of healthier, more useful feedback. Pieces like this one may be the best I can get given the kind of social responses my story tends to inspire.
> Also, living at 3000 feet above sea level for about 2.5 years, thereby forcibly expanding my lung capacity.
Fascinating. It is certainly no regular doctor would prescribe to anyone. But it makes sense.
My grandfather was wounded during the war and as a result was left with a severely reduced lung capacity. When he came back, everyone was surprised when he started singing in a local church choir. Here is a man that can barely breathe and now he wants to sing. Everyone in the village thought he was crazy. But I think the singing was helping him breathe a great deal. He lived 50 more years.
So sometimes the counter-intuitive thing makes sense.
I am often frustrated when I talk to doctors because I want to know in more details what is going on, I want the results of tests explained and so on, Then I am not sure if they are just busy and think I am an asshole for asking annoying questions, or what I am more scared of, they don't actually know or care to know these things and just prescribe pills according to a textbook checklist of symptoms.
I am often frustrated when I talk to doctors because I want to know in more details what is going on, I want the results of tests explained and so on, Then I am not sure if they are just busy and think I am an asshole for asking annoying questions, or what I am more scared of, they don't actually know or care to know these things and just prescribe pills according to a textbook checklist of symptoms.
Someone who helped me enormously for a time was a former RN who later studied a lot of alternative medicine approaches. I took guaifenisen (sp?) for a time and was trying to figure out what it was doing that it helped. After an internet search failed to answer my questions, I asked her what it did in the body or if she could come up with some information online that might help me understand (she had a track record of coming up with stuff like that). She basically told me "I don't think anyone really knows that. That isn't how drug studies work. You are asking questions that the medical establishment cannot answer." So I suspect that in many cases your bigger fear is exactly what is going on.
I still don't know what gauifenisen really does to the body. It ended up being the last remaining drug I took for a time. I got off it some time in the summer of 2009 and have been drug free ever since.
Have you considered taking up playing a wind instrument ?
This might help you to maintain that extra lung capacity or even to build it out further.
I've had a collapsed lung about two years ago and it was my years and years of sax playing that probably saved the day (that and a helpful neighbor that figured out that something serious over and beyond serious chest pain when inhaling was amiss, I'm off the 'if it came by itself it will go by itself' persuasion, which is ok most of the times but not always).
I am so not musical (I appear to be tone deaf, though as I heal, my hearing has changed and I understand lyrics better than I used to). And a wind instrument would not likely fit into my lifestyle at the moment in terms of owning so very little and keeping everything germ-free. However, chest x-rays 4 years ago and the lack of pain in my left lung indicate that the hole I once had has closed up. I also generally have more stamina..etc.. I have a very long list of criteria for an ideal place to live and, somewhat to my annoyance, Cheyenne Wyoming is looking like it might be the next place I go (assuming I can arrange to go anywhere I want). It happens to be 6000 feet above sea level, which is likely a good thing.
Ai, that rules that out. Ok. Great to see you're healing like that, you should write a book about what you're going through, or at a minimum a very well documented website, I've never heard of someone with CF to recover that much by banging their head against the problem, collecting the data in one spot might be a godsend for others.
But I just can't see much benefit for anyone else.
If the mountain climber's goal is to be a stronger person, both he and the people around him benefit from his achieving it. If he comes out of the experience a strong, unintimidatable leader who inspires others and fights hard to make the world a better place, it's even arguable that the people around him benefit from his experience more than he does.
There is a balance to everything. I am not sure if 10% chance of dying is worth the gamble to emerge as a better leader on the other side, especially, as it was pointed out, if it leaves behind a grieving widow, son, mother, or friend.
Risking your life climbing a mountain is no more "living", than sitting at home with your family watching tv is. Romanticised bullshit.
If you enjoy doing something, do it. Don't do it so you can add it to your list of life experiences so you can pretend that you've lived a better life than somebody who hasn't done it.
I think what is required to even get the change to summit Everest weeds out any people who are just there so they can "pretend they've lived a better life".
I disagree. Most of the time when people do stuff like this, they do it just so they can tell other people that they've done it. They don't do it for the experience, they do it for the bragging rights.
Note, I'm not talking about everyone that does it, just most people.
Not everything is binary. Other people have different motivations than you. Not everyone does an Ironman for bragging rights. Not everyone starts a company for bragging rights.
Reality check: how many people do you know that climbed Everest? When you claim to know why most people do something that you actually have no clue about, you look like an incredibly arrogant douche.
No, I said that like there's a recklessly selfish spectrum and this is pegged near one end with driving while extremely intoxicated, habitually using heroin, etc. At the other end are mildly selfish acts.
Playing an X-box is a mildly selfish act. It's fun, but probably isn't a real big win for family, friends, society, etc. Not too damaging to them, though, unless done in excess.
Getting massively drunk and then driving your sports car around risks bystanders (sherpas), your life (causing sorrow and hardship for friends and family), and society (cleaning you and your victims off of the road cost money and time).
Your analogy doesn't quite hold: a sherpa is not an innocent bystander--they know exactly what they're getting themselves into, and they've decided they're willing to accept the same risks that the hikers take on.
How much pain is your untimely death going to cause if it happens? How many everest orphans and widows are there? Include in that the considerable cost and time investment to do this when you could be creating something, exploring something that has a conceivable chance of helping humanity, or just plain investing in helping others. No, this is a hugely selfish act.
I was going to create a startup, but unfortunately I think it's just too selfish of an act. What if by giving up my cubicle I screw over my family and pets that depend on me? Can I be so selfish as to give up my livelihood, my life savings and dedicating every waking moment to making my startup succeed?
I would argue that creating a startup--much like climbing Everest--is a risky endeavor with unspeakable rewards. I am not a mountaineer, and I would never risk my life on a mountain just for the pride.
But you have to wonder, as we sit here talking about it on the Internet, do these people know how to really live in a way we haven't experienced? Maybe it's the physical exertion or the satisfaction of accomplishing one's dreams, but you can't chalk up every hardcore mountaineer (or any other deadly hobby, for that matter) as mere adrenaline junkies. The real debate here is whether or not it's worth it to risk your life in order to live it to the fullest.
Yeah, because comparing something that, if it pays off, will put your family into the lap of luxury, and if it doesn't you can go back to your old life with something that offers no intrinsic value or reward if it pays off, and if it doesn't leaves you dead on the side of a mountain where people name the feature after the colour of your boots is an apples to apples comparison.
It's certainly not the same thing, and as I said before I would never risk my life in pursuit of what I perceive to be a meaningless goal.
My point, however, was that I do not presume to judge others based on the risks that they take in their own lives. The juxtaposition I was trying to make is that people comfortable in their corporate lives might say it's selfish or crazy to persue one's dreams of creating a startup at significant financial risk, just like some people here are saying it's selfish or crazy to want to climb Everest.
Is skydiving a suicidal activity? Are surfers that risk shark attacks or storm chasers that follow tornadoes nothing more than stupid, selfish, suicidal sacks of meat? I personally don't think so, but you are of course entitled to an opinion all of your own.
By the way, I'm more than happy to converse different opinions in a civilized manner; bleeding sarcasm isn't necessary to get your point across.
10% failure rate is bad on a website about startups?
Now, we're talking life instead of life savings, but I find it hard to say that their decision is wrong in any ethical or moral sense, and I'm curious what moral framework would justify your viewpoint. Additionally, burning through your life savings (and that of friends/family) can easily cause more long-term harm than having a mom or dad that died while climbing Everest. You just think that one risk is acceptable because it doesn't terminate in death. But there are greater things to fear than dying.
Additionally, suppose there were some not-to-distant dystopia in which reading non-approved books were a capital offense, and the state/corporate/whatever apparatus caught 10% of all offenders and had a 100% conviction rate for that 10%. Would that suddenly make reading wrong? I think most people have the intuition that the law is wrong, not the reading.
Similarly, I have a hard time seeing why 10% of people dying while doing something somehow makes it wrong per se.
Failure rate alone isn't enough to compare climbing Everest and running a startup. The cost of failure on Everest is ultimate, but the cost of failure in a startup is temporary and economic.
It's only 'ultimate' if dying is the 'ultimate' bad thing that can happen. Most people at most times and most places don't think that's true, and I agree with them. Not living is the ultimate bad thing that can happen, and respiration and living aren't the same thing, in this context.
The cost of failure on Everest is ultimate, but the cost of failure in a startup is temporary and economic.
What about the folks who lose their life savings when their businesses fail, and decide to commit suicide? I have no stats on how often that actually happens, but it's something to consider.
Failing a startup is part of the process of becoming a better entrepreneur. Failing a startup actually brings something to the community.
Dying in a mountain may be part of the process of living your life and it's not less stupid than dying in a car accident, however climbing a mountain and have 10% chance of dying in the process is just plain reckless and selfish.
Your life is your own, but don't expect to get approval and admiration from everybody else.
10% is the wrong statistic. According to the article, for every 10 people who reach the summit, 1 person dies in the attempt. So, already, that's somewhat less than 1/10, because not every person who dies does so after reaching the summit.
But it also doesn't count the many people who start climbing the mountain but turn around before the summit and make it down alive.
However, only about 2700 individuals climbed -- which puts the deaths / "uniques" back up to 8%. And if you assume that the sherpas die less frequently than do the tourists, 10% doesn't seem too far off.
Sorry, yes, both of those numbers are for all time.
However, the rate stands. It's not correct, according to the source on 8000ers, that 4000 people climb it in a year. Indeed, the list shows that number is for all time as well.
Yes, K2 is is much more technically demanding climb (See the Black Pyramid, and basically any of the other less popular routes) and more unpredictable (falling seracs above the Bottleneck killed several climbers in 2008). It's usually only attempted by very skilled mountaineers. You won't find the same sort of climbing tour groups like operate on Everest - which is part of the reason why Everest, though the tallest, doesn't seem to be the pinnacle of mountaineering.
I recently met one of the 9 Americans to ever summit K2 where for every four people who have reached the summit, one has died trying. He quit after his friend didn't make it home.
Historically, it's closer to 94%. In rough numbers, there have been around 100 billion humans [1], and only around 6 billion of them are left, even if you count the Dalai Lama.
Well, 94% mortality and 6% for which there is insufficient data to draw a conclusion. We'll have to wait a while to be sure if any of them are immortal.
As reasonable as your assessment is, humanity has not gotten so far in the fields of ideas, philosophy, technology in general or any other field you can think of by being purely altruistic. Inspiration is a powerful feeling that drives progress.
An example that comes to mind is how Galileo chose to defy the powerful figures of his time and was, admittedly, willing to die for it. He had children.
Your have a 10% chance of dying if you attempt a summit, right?
10% of people who attempt a summit die, but that does not mean that attempting a summit necessarily has a 10% chance of death. That 10% figure is not conditioned on your individual preparation, your guides, and your fellow climbers. I would guess that with the right preparation, the chance of death is much less than 10%.
This is a pretty good point. Russell Brice, the owner of one of the largest Everest companies and the main person in Discovery's Everest series, has never had a client die on one of his expeditions, and he's had something like 200 people climb with him.
He's able to be so successful because he makes sure his climbers are adequately prepared, and he doesn't allow people to climb who he doesn't think are fit enough. It seems like (at least from the Discovery series) that many of the people who die are hiking on their own, without the help of one of the successful companies, so when something goes wrong, they don't have a support network to help them.
How many attempt a summit without proper preparation? (Or what they consider proper preparation, which amounts to the same thing)?
I honestly don't know, but I would guess that people attempting to climb Everest are not just random climbers, but people who train specifically for this.
1 in 10 is the stat over the past 50 years or so. The past
10 years has seen major changes to Everest summits that make that number much, much lower. Fixed ropes are much more prevalent now which has made a huge difference in keeping people safe, as well as reducing bottle-necks so that climbers spend less time in the dead zone.
Last year there were 330 summits and 5 deaths, so roughly 1.5%
It's the extraordinary who motivate others to excel in what they believe in, whether its the day to day of raising a family or tackling a summit nearly 30,000 feet from sea level. I have huge amounts of respect for anyone willing to even attempt this and it shows you just how far focus and determination can take a person.
Thanks for the link O.P, it really made an impact on certain priorities and perspective.
I think the actual mortality rate is closer to 2%. I don't know if that changes your opinion at all. Frankly, I feel that even at 2% mortality, it's a pretty selfish act if anybody else depends on you.
You could, if you were willing to say something very silly. The death rate for car travel is around 1 per 100 million miles travelled. It's safer than just about anything besides riding in a commercial airliner; even lying in bed will kill you sooner.
The other half is that in most of America and many parts of the rest of the world, most people can't support themselves financially or otherwise without driving a car at least 5 days per week. The same is not true of climbing Mt. Everest.
> The death rate for car travel is around 1 per 100 million miles travelled. It's safer than just about anything besides riding in a commercial airliner
Automobile travel is one of the most likely voluntary activities to kill you, and the most likely direct cause of death (as opposed to things like smoking which kill you indirectly over time).
> one of the most likely voluntary activities to kill you
This is for values of "you" which != "mountain climber." Hell, I stay away from mountains and a car isn't going to be what gets me--I swim at midnight in the ocean here in Florida, and ride my motorcycle to work almost every day when the weather's cooperative.
> These were people who no mountaineer in the world would accuse of being irresponsible, inexperienced, unprofessional, or, even, unsafe.
This is what gets me about mountain climbing - you can't really be good at it, at least not in the sense that it will save your life. There are so many unknowable, uncontrollable factors that make the difference between life and death, to the extent that you play Russian Roulette with each climb, the only reward being a spectacular view.
I saw Touching the Void (recommended) a few months ago and it described how on one occasion two climbers basically climbed onto a snow overhang and when it broke it was too late to do anything about it. There was no way to know that they were heading onto an overhang at the time, it looked solid as anything else. This is not a skills-based discipline, just crazy gambling. I don't get it.
That is exactly what makes mountaineering so awesome, at least for me.
In modern society most people have lost their respect for nature. Going into the mountains and climbing them makes you respect nature in all its awesome force. You're walking a very fine line, where you're taking risks but also mitigating those risks by using proper equipment.
For the most part this is a skills based discipline, but the fact remains, you're dealing with nature, an unknown force.
I've heard that lions and tigers aren't actually that dangerous. Some big cats have a very vicious fear response, but lions and tigers are apex predators, and no one in their natural environment can really fuck with them, so they've lost that kind of behavior. The only real risk with lions and tigers is if they get hungry, or if you try and play with them, because they don't really realize how strong they are.
I'm not going to test this theory myself, but here's a cute story about a lion who was raised by humans and still recognized them even after being reintroduced into the wild: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christian_the_lion
I think that to respect Nature you need to understand that it won't kill you 'just because' you get out of your safe house. Nature gives you a lot to take care of yourself. You need to learn to properly understand it's signs, that's where you can start respecting. Otherwise you have fear, but not respect. You can't imagine yourself sleeping under a rain, can't you?
I am having a hard time trying to verbalize the difference between knowing something is there and experiencing it first hand and the difference. I think there is a difference, hopefully someone more eloquent than myself can explain.
There are countless counter-examples to this claim. For example, Jerzy Kukuczka's spent three nights out above 8000m on K2 without food, water, tent, or sleeping bag. During this time, he covered substantial technical ground to summit their new route (the South Face) and descended safely without assistance and even without frostbite. His partner, Tadeusz Piotrowski, was suffering more seriously from the exposure and fell while downclimbing ice unroped. Kukuczka was not just "lucky", he was prepared and knew how to last in extreme conditions. His decision-making with regard to batteries (his headlamp never worked when it mattered) and rope (he died when the second-hand 6mm rope he was leading on cut) was not so good.
Touching the Void is a great story and Joe Simpson is an entertaining writer, but he's also notoriously accident-prone and has some peculiar risk analysis judging from his writing about places that I have climbed. Sure, cutting edge alpine-style climbing is dangerous and requires a great deal of competence, but it's still not crazy gamble you describe as long as you make objective decisions.
I have tremendous respect for the abilities of the climbers, they are obviously among the best in the world in several categories of physical prowess, but it still seems that mountain climbing is one of very few disciplines where you can do everything right and still, with a reasonable probability, get killed due to some random circumstance.
There are a lot of decisions that affect the risk level. This is the same with any activity. Cutting edge climbs generally involve enough "risky" decisions to be considered dangerous, I have lost too many friends to claim otherwise. But there is a lot of "serious looking" climbing, including quite a lot at high altitude as well as very technical routes that can be done at a risk level similar to non-"extreme" activities.
Accidents on hard routes are either because of objective hazard (e.g. climbing underneath a serac, an obvious hazard that the climbers chose to accept because they thought the route was "worth it") or human error (e.g. rappelling accident). You choose where to climb and you assess conditions. Some hazards are hard to assess (avalanches from slopes that you cannot evaluate), but most accidents related to objective hazard involve a specific decision that was known by the participants to be risky.
It is not the case that choosing to attempt a big objective involves an especially large risk. But if you never make risky decisions, then you are likely to fail at your objective (maybe climb something less impressive). The trick the prolific climbers who make it to old age have mastered is evaluating risk sufficiently accurately to get the big lines without dying. There are a couple who were just lucky, but by and large, luck runs out eventually so you have to be good at assessing risk.
If you play games where one set of moves means you'll certainly survive and win, then you're going to make those moves. It's like playing chess, with a loaded gun beside the board so you could shoot yourself if you chose to. That might give you a thrill the first time, but you'd soon get bored of it, and you wouldn't learn anything worthwhile from it.
The really absorbing games are the ones where every set of moves could get you killed, and the winning ones are more likely to than the safest losing ones.
Many books have been written about this stuff. I think Joe Simpson's This Game of Ghosts is the most accessible.
That's not really a counterexample, at least not to the claim you're disagreeing with. He was not just lucky, but he was nonetheless quite lucky. If apparently solid ground had just given way under Jerzy Kukuczka or the terrain above him had come crashing down on his head, or the temperature had suddenly dropped a lot further, he still would have died, wouldn't he?
The lower part of that route was quite dangerous in terms of rock and ice fall, but that was mostly behind them once they reached the upper part. Crevasses don't just occur anywhere, and they were mostly on technical ground where it was a non-issue. Ridges can have cornices, but if you are paying attention, you can usually find a way to traverse the ridge in a safe place (this might be much slower/harder). Usually you use a rope on serious cornice terrain and you carefully choose how to run it so that it offers some safety, but big falls are definitely possible. They didn't have serious cornices on that route.
I do believe that Jerzy lived through that event due to his preparation/talent for handling extreme conditions and his mental focus (to keep warm when sitting in the snow all night, to not make mistakes after being out for so long). Piotrowski was no slouch, but he fell because he got sloppy. Perhaps his physiology was also somehow less robust. Note that lots of other people have died because of one night out in the same conditions, even following a comfortable tent-bound night of sleep and a day with food and water. These two were strung out from their big new route and after the second night of sitting in the snow shivering without food or water, they still broke trail up to the summit. It was after the third night out that Piotrowski finally got sloppy on the ice climbing.
But that's precisely not the main reward. You can get a better view from an airplane, and who cares? Climbing isn't about the view any more than a solo circumnavigation in a small sailboat -- sure, you see amazing things and they're breathtakingly beautiful, but that's not why you do it.
I'm not a mountaineer and probably never will be, but I can definitely see the draw. It's the challenge itself, and the fact that the so much rests on your ability to focus and make rational decisions in the face of extreme danger.
> You are never warm, the food sucks, camping for long periods at high altitude sucks rather a lot, you are never clean, altitude sickness sucks, pooping in an 8" hole in the ground sucks, not eating much protein sucks, but… the views are spectacular, the people you meet are amazing, the place itself is awe-inspiring, the wildlife is interesting and diverse, the peace of the place is fantastic, and the mountains… well, the mountains are something special.
Great post. For those interested in experiencing the splendors of the Himalayas with less of the grittiness, I'd suggest booking a trek. Everest base camp treks can be done in 2 weeks or less for a modest price, along with many other scenic and adventurous treks in the area - no mountaineering needed. Tea houses provide an alternative to camping, no need to "poop in holes," and I found the food available great. You can't escape the lack of bathing, nor the possibility of altitude sickness - but I had an amazing time, and hope to go back some day. My one suggestion: go during low season.
Googling "everest base camp trek" will dig up all sorts of information. There are several adventure travel companies that offer treks of this sort - typically you'll go in a group of around 10 other travelers plus your local guides. If you're on a tight budget, flying into Kathmandu and booking the trip yourself with a local company can be much cheaper, it'll just require a bit more effort. Depending on the time of year you go, it can either be busy with many other trekking/mountaineering groups, or it could just be yourselves. You don't need to be superhuman to finish the trek, but you do need determination and a relatively good level of fitness.
One drawback with booking a set itinerary is that if your body doesn't take to the altitude well and you need more time to acclimatize, it could jeopardize your trip. Within a group of 10, a couple people likely will not make it all of the way to base camp and will need to stop. If that worries you, finding a more flexible itinerary will let you travel at a slower pace if need be.
> Climbing Mt. Everest has nothing to do with exploration
At an organizational level, you are correct. There are very few places left unexplored by the human race on this planet. However, on an individual level, if you have never been to the summit of Everest, then it is very much a personal exploration. Maps and guides reduce the required effort from superhuman to formidable, but I see a clear exploratory factor.
At a personal level -- answering the question "what have I explored" rather than "what has the human race explored" -- the chasm between having crossed the Hillary Step and merely having read a description of it is vast. You are exploring your own limits in a purely figurative sense, and this could be boiled down to "thrill-seeking", but you are also literally exploring the terrain and geography, figuring out how to hoist your own personal mass beyond each obstacle. It is this very personal sense of exploration that I think drives most non-professional mountaineers.
Also, even at a macro / organizational level, completely new routes are tried (explored!), and the route through the Khumbu Icefall changes every year.
On personal level I can explore Mt. Everest over Internet and get better understanding of what it is than someone who climbs it.
Assuming that we both spend equal amount of time (me researching, and the climber -- in preparations and climbing).
Joyriding your car and doing donuts in the middle of mainstreet on a Friday evening would probably fall into the "reckless thrill-seeking" category every time. Yes, a good number of Everest climbers may also fit that bill. But it's incorrect and not particularly insightful to attribute that characterization to the entire endeavor.There are many good reasons why someone would climb Everest or any mountain for that matter. What is the particular objection? That climbing the mountain quite possibly can lead to one's premature and needless death? So can launching yourself on top of a rocket. Yet I don't see too many astronauts being accused of reckless thrill-seeking. And no, it shouldn't matter on the former if the primary motivator is personal in nature. Personal exploration can be just as valid as public exploration, as is often the justification for going into space.
whatever the preparation and outlandish cost, perhaps it's not simply ruthless determination that makes someone abandon their team mates, and yet still have the energy to summit. In such alien conditions, utterly hostile to human life, climbers might face their own mortality. Under the spectre of pure, unadulterated fear, they must realize that they are beyond help as well as beyond helping anyone else.
If they don't, they fall among those who never leave, abandoned on Everest.
Can you elaborate a bit on why you'd see people wanting to do this? I mean, I understand that mountain climbing affords a nice view, and I understand that it's a feat that you can tell people about, but I can't imagine being willing to take a risk as large as Mt. Everest for those reasons.
It's just the way some people are wired, and sometimes peoples' wiring changes. They may decide they're not comfortable with the idea of someone else being able to do something they can't. They may have always wanted to climb the highest mountain in the world. They may just want to add it to their summit collection. Sometimes it's just a job. Sometimes it's a trophy, or the crowning achievement of a lifetime.
I used to have arguments with one of my old roommates about space exploration. He would argue that if we found a planet several thousand light years away that could support human life, we'd never get there because nobody would volunteer to go. I could never get through to him that there are people who will take any risk to get to do something like that, even if it meant only being memorialized in the memories of their distant descendants or being frozen for a few thousand years and never again seeing everything they'd ever known.
However, human history supports the idea that there will always be those few who are willing to do things for reasons which evade the rest of the human race. That's just the way we're wired.
just imagine our ancestors lived only in savannahs, somewhere between africa and middle east, and a few them foolishly wanted to explore north and eastwards... and they were right. In the same way, a few foolishly played with fire and other sharp objects ... and they were right again, inventing precious tools.
My opinion is that this "wiring" is crucial in what makes us human. It makes us grow and discover our full potential. So you will still have people wanting to dive in apnea for 5+ mn or crazy programmers experimenting stuff with twitter. And that happens even if those people are extremely logical/intelligent people.
> But sadly modern world is too worried about my well-being to let me do something like that
Not really. Many of the people actually working towards going to Mars probably feel as you do. The problem is it's actually hard (technologically and politically).
Mallory is famously quoted as having replied to the question "Why do you want to climb Mount Everest?" with the retort: "Because it's there", which has been called "the most famous three words in mountaineering".
Mallory also had a pretty strained relationship with his wife as a result of his mountaineering. If I remember correctly, he promised her several times he would never go back to Everest but always ended up going. I'm not saying I don't sympathize with his dilema, but it's worth pointing out that there are two sides to those famous words.
"Mountains are the means, the man is the end. The goal is not to reach the tops of mountains, but to improve the man." - Walter Bonatti
"When I rest I feel utterly lifeless except that my throat burns when I draw breath...I can scarcely go on. No despair, no happiness, no anxiety. I have not lost the mastery of my feelings, there are actually no more feelings. I consist only of will." - Messner on the first solo ascent of Everest
I have never been to Everest (would like to one day), but I climb 14ers in CO all the time. Climbing at high altitude is simply the hardest thing I've ever done from a mental, physical, and emotional standpoint. Once I started climbing everything else in life just seemed easier.
Mountaineering in general is not just about the views, wildlife, and other unique memories, it's also about being probably the hardest thing you will ever do, mentally, and physically.
One of my hobbies used to be brutal enduro-hiking, and my little trip up Rainier years ago still stands out in my memory as the hardest thing I've ever done.
If HN readers really need that entrepreneur spin on this, then I'd suggest that there are a lot of parallels between summiting (and knowing when not to summit) and entrepreneurship.
Everest specifically is probably more because it's a trophy; there are a lot of mountains out there that would afford a pretty similar challenge.
Alpinism, mountaineering's crazy sibling, takes this a step further. Often, cutting edge alpinists (the people who do dangerous, high stuff with little more than a pack on their back) don't climb for the summit--they climb to plumb the depths of what they are capable of. Sometimes, the summit doesn't even matter.
Everest is a trophy, for sure, and it is hardly a purely difficult climb (that's not to underscore the objective dangers, however). Stevie Haston, a famous and accomplished British alpinist, has compared Everest to doing push-ups with a plastic bag over your head.
Different people measure value in different ways. I can't speak for anyone else, but as for myself, I would be driven suicidal by a long, boring life. If the risks that I take in the pursuit of memorable experiences and exciting ventures results in a shorter life ... that's OK with me.
Also -- risk of accidental death aside -- climbing and mountaineering are probably the two singularly best ways to maintain great physical conditioning.
To feel well and fully alive sometimes requires one to step out of the boundaries of comfort (and some would say sanity). I honestly believe that you don't appreciate your life as much as when you've been close to losing it.
It says something about these heroes that none are willing to brave Everest to recover (or even to cover) the body of Green Boots instead of pursuing their own self-actualisation on the summit. Never mind the matter of poor Sharp.
What I did would be best classified as adventure travel.
The two people I was talking about in the quote you took out of context, however, were serious explorers and mountaineers. One had a few dozen first ascents under his belt, and the other had summited Everest 19 times.
It is probably because it is not really a good summary of the poster's experience. It also has a hint of being mildly disrespectful of the difficulties of really climbing to 20k feet by not acknowledging the experience in totality and merely highlighting 'pooping'. If it was not a jab, it atleast sounded like one.
I've never made it to 20K, infact the highest I've reached is 15k feet being a non-professional climber and it is hard to do justice of the difficulty of every step after 12k. From the difficulty in breathing to not being able to sit for anything more than 30 seconds, it is really a testament to the strength of the climbers who make it to 20k and above like the OP.
I do realize it, however I was referring to a reasoning why antidaily's comment was downmodded. This was questioned by the OP (wooster) and I do probably realize that the reply to wooster should've been fitted at a better between wooster's question and a reply to antidaily. Since that was not possible, I chose the former.
While I think the grandparent comment could be considered disrespectful, note that the commenter I'm replying to is the original poster in this thread, i.e. the guy that actually climbed the mountain (and, apparently, pooped in an 8" hole).
We had three guides, all three of whom have climbed Everest multiple times. One of our guides, who has summited 5 times, described Everest as his "bad habit".
As a relative newbie to high altitude mountaineering (the highest I got was ~19,850 feet), climbing in Nepal was really, really hard. You are never warm, the food sucks, camping for long periods at high altitude sucks rather a lot, you are never clean, altitude sickness sucks, pooping in an 8" hole in the ground sucks, not eating much protein sucks, but… the views are spectacular, the people you meet are amazing, the place itself is awe-inspiring, the wildlife is interesting and diverse, the peace of the place is fantastic, and the mountains… well, the mountains are something special.
I can see why some people spend their lives chasing summits, and I can also see why some people, having seen their first summit, turn away from the mountains forever and never come back. While we were in Nepal, within two days of our summit push, our head guide had two friends die. One died on Cho Oyu in an avalanche while traversing a glacier. The other died on a relatively unknown mountain in Tibet. Both were world-class mountaineers. These were people who no mountaineer in the world would accuse of being irresponsible, inexperienced, unprofessional, or, even, unsafe. They were serious mountaineers with long resumes and respected records.
That said, exploration is always a serious business, and when you're out at the sharp end, sometimes you get cut. Without these people, however, and the part of humanity which they represent, we would never expand our experience of what it is to be human and our knowledge of the space around us.
Even with Mount Everest, where the experience has been honed to the point where there are professionals whose entire job it is to make sure clients make it to the top… it's friggin' hard. Having been to nearly 20k feet, I have nothing but respect for people who can make it to 29,029 feet. Climbing that far is hard, no matter how you do it. I can only imagine the feeling of being on top of the world, and quite frankly I'm not sure I'm up to the challenge, personally, of tackling Mt. Everest. I will certainly never make fun of anyone who has climbed that mountain.
Given the difference in oxygen between where I got to and the top of Everest, I don't think I can comment on the impairment of cognitive facilities climbing Mount Everest imparts. However: there's a good reason most responsible climbs leave a controller in radio contact from base camp or Camp 1 in charge of final decisions. Oxygen deprivation is a serious impediment to rational decision making.
So, yeah, go ahead and don't climb where you don't feel comfortable. Just don't go judging those who do without having done a high climb yourself.