Nonetheless, that draw has existing for me all of my life. As a young child I spent as much time as I could in the neighborhood woods. As a youth I sought every possible opportunity for an adventure in the great outdoors. As a young adult i spent most of my free time either on a climb, planning a climb, or dreaming about climbing.
This is not an uncommon experience for young people. But such passion and focus is usually soon transfered to other life experiences. Not me. I added passions to my life, but my passion for the outdoors has never wained. While my contemporaries evolved from climbing to car camping to RV's to golf, my family and I were off on backpacking trips, canoe expeditions and long distance bicycle rides. These activities provided basic sustenance for my ongoing pangs for the outdoors, but deep in my heart and soul, an unsatiated hunger resided, a residual of a long-dismissed goal: to climb Denali; Mount McKinley, the highest mountain in North America.
As my climbing rack was sold and replaced by a diaper bag, I became resolved to the reality that that particular goal in my life would need to be released. With every passing year accepting that missed goal became more tolerable, yet it has never really been tolerable.
Age is something that creeps up on us silently. We identify ourselves as a young person, and see no reason to redefine ourselves with the passing years. But eventually that redefinition is inflicted upon us either by others or by its undeniability. People stop asking for ID when we order a drink. A comment is made about, "someone your age..." And most recently for me, you are given a senior discount!
While the chronometer moves smoothly, the transitions from "young person" to "middle age" to "senior" happen in single massive steps.
It wasn't long after I was given my first senior discount that I realized that my goal to climb Denali was itself going to make a dramatic shift from the category of "voluntary acceptance of a missed goal" to "irrevocably canceled." This threat bounced around my mind subconsciously for some time before it became a conscious challenge: "Why CAN"T I climb Denali?" While most people would likely be able to quickly come up with a long list to answer that question, none of them seemed unsurmountable to me. "I am going to do it!" I told myself.
Broaching the idea with my family resulting in both predictable and surprising reactions. My wife Nancy, after enduring almost 30 years of my crazy ideas, was calm and rational, focusing on the expense of such an undertaking. My two sons, both highly experienced and accomplished outdoorsmen, were not supportive. Twenty-three year old Colin said it was just too dangerous. Twenty-seven year old Murray thought it was unrealistically ambitious.
After a couple of weeks of intermittent conversation on the topic, Colin suggested I consider Aconcagua. At roughly three thousand feet higher than Denali, it is the highest peak in South America and the entire Western Hemisphere. Such an altitude is a major consideration, but in terms of both weather and technical difficulty, Aconcagua is considerably easier and safer than Denali. Thus Colin's recommendation. Why not go for the tallest in the hemisphere and be safer? This was a compelling argument and I begin to do some research. Making the case even more convincing, he said he would go with me if the goal was Aconcagua.
The topic of climbing a major mountain (I had always considered Mount Rainier a major climb, but it was already being relegated to the status of a training climb in my mind) began to occupy more and more of my thoughts.
About this time I journeyed to a semi-annual outdoor industry trade show that I attend religiously. At these shows there are literally thousands of "toys" used to climb mountains and other outdoor pursuits. At the same time, the attendee list is riddled with names of highly regarded and accomplished climbers. It is hard not to run into a Rick Ridgeway, Royal Robbins, or Ed Viestures at these shows. This increased further the amount of time I thought about a major climb.
I was standing in the CAMP booth (major Italian manufacturer of climbing gear) when the mountain guides from International Mountain Guides came by. I thought it was a great opportunity to gain their insight into my aspiration.
Eric Simonson, Ershler and I talked for awhile and they both enthusiastically recommended Denali over Aconcagua. Phil had just returned the previous week from having climbed both of the peaks, and he said that Denali was a far better trip. "If you are only going to climb one big one, climb Denali," he said firmly. As to my comment about being 55 years old, he pointed out that he was 58!
Sitting in the airport waiting for my return flight to Seattle I cruised the web, saved websites, and downloaded training programs specific to climbing Denali. When I got home I immediately began my training regiment and documenting my progress on an Excel spreadsheet.
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