Why Do You Climb?

Occasionally I am asked by friends or acquaintances, “Why do you climb?”  I believe what they are really asking is:  why spend so much time, effort, and money to do something that is ultimately pointless, particularly when the consequences of a fall (or lightning, rockfall, avalanche, etc.)  are so dire?  The question is difficult to answer, but definitely worth considering!  Before I left on an expedition to climb Denali last year, I wrote a letter to my kids to try to explain why I love to climb, figuring that I would owe them an explanation, just in case anything were to happen to me.  The following is taken from that letter, with some introductory information added for the sake of the general reader.
 
Why I Climb
Dear Tim, Emily, and Rose,

Perhaps my love for the outdoors began as a young boy during my family’s summer tent-trailer camping trips to various state and national parks each summer.  Eventually, that love led me to Colorado, where I began to overcome my fear of heights by climbing the state’s “14ers” (Colorado boasts about 54 beautiful mountains that exceed 14,000’).  I happened to meet Debbie, who also loves the mountains and who was engaged on her own personal quest to climb the 14ers.  We joined forces and accompanied each other up the remaining 14ers on our respective lists.  Eventually, my climbing partner became my life partner, and we trekked through the Cordillera Blanca in Peru for our honeymoon, where I set foot on a glaciated mountain (Mt. Pisco, a 19er) for the first time in my life -- in rented double boots -- negotiating steep slopes, narrow ridges, and attention-grabbing crevasses in darkness and white-out conditions.  I loved it!

I joined the Colorado Mountain Club and signed up for Basic Mountaineering School, whose instructors provided my introduction to technical climbing on rock and snow.  I then attended the CMC’s High Altitude Mountaineering School, learned how to ice climb, and enjoyed climbing in the Cascades on Mt. Baker’s North Ridge and Rainier.  Thus I happened to discover my greatest passion in sport -- climbing and mountaineering -- later in my life, at the beginning of my second half-century in fact.  This is an avocation that is not without risk.  As I am about to head to Alaska to climb Denali, “The High One,” I find myself wishing to share a few thoughts about my love of climbing.  I want you to understand why I feel that if I get injured or worse during a climb, then, well, it was a risk I have carefully considered and feel strongly that it was a risk worth taking.

Keep in mind that risk management is about assessing the impact of a risk, its probability of occurrence, and its consequences.  For example, I feel that a father with young children should take far less risk than an old geeser like me with grown children, because the consequences are obviously so much greater for young children to lose a parent than for grown children.  Also keep in mind that I am not out there attempting cutting edge climbs, but climbs that I feel are within my ability and skill level.  Moreover, I consider myself to be a very safety-conscious climber, one who has invested a lot of time and effort to learn the technical skills and knowledge required of an alpinist, and one who enjoys achieving and maintaining the fitness level and experience that are required to climb safely.  That said, I will be the first to admit that the objective hazards (e.g. rock fall, avalanches, lightning, storms and other weather hazards, snow conditions, etc.) inherent in climbing impose a level of grave risk that is impossible to eradicate entirely.

Which brings me back to the question at hand:   why do I and other climbers spend so much time, effort, training, and financial investment to climb rock and ice walls and mountains, particularly when such endeavors seem ultimately pointless (at least with respect to changing the world in a meaningful way), and especially considering the risk of injury and mortal peril.  This is a very difficult question to answer, and many climbers have written books in an effort to answer this question.  Maybe someday I will too, but in the meantime, I can try to offer a few points of explanation.

Everyone’s passions are different, but they originate from the same source – that of experiencing a profound and intense feeling of satisfaction that derives from doing what one loves, and then setting goals, working hard, and exerting mind and body to improve and achieve ever-more-difficult goals in the face of uncertainty.  For climbers, that sense of accomplishment is magnified because we must overcome our fear to succeed, and we practice our art amidst the profound beauty of God’s creation, which we sense deeply in a tangible, extraordinary way.   In a nutshell:   climbing offers the joy of feeling radically and deeply alive to the core of one’s soul!

I believe each of you has already experienced similar passions, be it music, dance, theater, academic achievement, or athletic pursuits (snow riding, fencing, etc.) -- whatever it is that you love deep in your soul, that makes you feel most alive and happy. With climbing, as with fencing, I love the mental relaxation that comes from total focus on the needs of the moment.  That combined with the physical and technical challenges provide a lifetime of enjoyment and satisfaction as one constantly tries to improve and eventually to master the ever-more-difficult skill levels that are required to achieve one's desired level of proficiency.

If you look at some of the photos of our climbs, you will see that one of my favorite types of climbing is snow couloirs, and we Coloradans are blessed with a wealth of magnificent mountain faces on various peaks in our state that host excellent opportunities to climb snow couloirs.  It is difficult to explain to non-climbers the physical and mental satisfaction of moving on steep rock or snow, and in particular, the fun and focus of rhythmically kicking step after step up a steep snow slope for extended periods of time, which is exactly what is required to ascend a couloir, with the metal points of one’s ice axe and crampons the only thing preventing a potentially long and dangerous fall.  I can’t wait to do it again!

There are so many aspects of climbing that lead to personal growth and the simple joy of doing:  mastering the technical skills (and understanding the physics and engineering) involved with protecting a climb, planning and preparing for difficult climbs and expeditions, managing risk, and overcoming hardship, discomfort, obstacles, setbacks, and objective hazards, to name a few.  Learning how to deal with suffering, which is an integral part of life, is a lesson well learned from alpinism. Moreover, there is great satisfaction in accomplishing a difficult goal when one has fears and doubts about whether or not he or she will be able to succeed.  For all climbers, moreover, and especially for me personally -- given my deeply-ingrained fear of exposure -- the satisfaction of facing dangerous terrain, overcoming my fear, and carrying on regardless is especially satisfying (though I must admit, often while struggling at a crux, trying to control my fear, I sometimes question my own sanity!).

Another important and wonderful gift that the mountains offer is the opportunity to experience deeply the profound beauty, complexity, and wonder of nature  . . . the total focus and awareness of one’s present surroundings . . . the encounters with the wildlife that shares these remote realms . . . the profound sense of joy, sometimes exhilaration, of moving on rock and snow and ice  . . . of achievement from accomplishing goals, and of feeling totally alive and present  . . . of feeling blessed and close to God.  Somehow the solitude, quiet, and beauty of the backcountry, the exertion and the overwhelming sense of presence, brings peace and joy to the soul, as life’s worries and troubles are totally purged for the moment and subsequently become less of a concern in the long run.

Finally, I am so wonderfully and specially blessed to be able to share all that with my best friend, soulmate, and life partner, which magnifies the fun of each excursion to the mountains.

My hope and prayer is that each of you follows your heart and pursues your passion, despite the risks and hardships.  The depths of your passions and your relationships (with your friends, your siblings, your parents, your children, your community, your selves, and your Creator) will ultimately determine the level of happiness that you will achieve in your life.
With love,

       Dad