I've always been fascinated by mountaineering, but I confess that I've never really understood it. I've read Into Thin Air and Touching the Void and watched the films based on them, as well as others like Free Solo, The Dawn Wall and the terrifying, heartbreaking The Alpinist. In each case I marvel at the incredible skill of professional climbers, and the absurd peril they put themselves through to enjoy their sport.
But for the life of me, I could never fathom why. Why engage with a sport that can so easily kill you, regardless of how good you are at it. One that will kill half of your friends and peers even if you personally emerge from your career unscathed. When George Mallory was asked why he wanted to climb Everest, he allegedly responded "because it's there!" But back in the 1920s, Everest wasn't covered in litter and climbed by 15 millionaires a week.
