Maybe we should leave Mount Everest alone. Each year seems to bring news of some fresh calamity, with the world’s wealthiest people paying up to $90,000 per person for the privilege of staggering up a deadly slope. If I had that much money to burn, I’d avoid anywhere dubbed “the death zone” and spend my time chilling in a hot tub with some models.
That imaginary hot tub might be what poor Beck Weathers was imagining as he spent a night screaming in terror and pain into a raging blizzard with half his face frozen off.
