"............When I arrived, the Spanish and Italian climbers, their porters and camels had all gone, I was alone with the mountains.

Unfortunately, this year the scene was tinged with sadness, one of the Spanish climbers had died high on the mountain and as I made my solitary camp on the glacier my thoughts wandered to the icy and windblown ledge where he rested in perpetual slumber.

Initially, the loneliness of his resting place and the beauty of the surroundings seemed like a sad irony. The pointlessness of dying amongst such splendour made me question our own recent ascent of a nearby mountain.

Are we justified in taking such risks ? What a question ! No doubt adventurers everywhere ask themselves the same thing at some time in their lives. To different people the answer will vary, even the very definition of risk will be different. Ultimately we should have to justify our actions only to ourselves, but as society becomes more protective it becomes increasingly difficult for individuals to step outside the accepted norm.

The responsibility of deciding to undertake an adventure with an element of risk is not to be taken lightly. Our loved ones and dependents will suffer more than anyone if we die in the pursuit of adventure. However, in the end, it should be our decision. It must be a decision we've thought long and hard about, but it is our's alone.

The Spanish climber is a symbol and a warning for us all. If we elect to climb a mountain, literally or figuratively, we must understand the risk and meet it on those terms. Any adventure, whether physical or financial, carries an element of risk. To ignore the risk would be foolish but to abandon the enterprise simply because it entails a risk would be tragic.

After setting up my small tent, I looked around at the mosses surviving in the harshness, the scant evidence of small animals and the incredible barren beauty of the surroundings. The black rock and white ice of the mountain rose thousands of metres above the tortured glacier with its gaping crevasses, pressure ridges and jumbles of ice. A forbidding and inspiring place indeed. Perhaps the dead mountaineer did not feel or see any of these things but for an onlooker like me it made a strong impression. The world does not stop for the passing of mere mortals. Certainly none of us wishes to die in the mountains, but to look on that scene and to think of a human entombed forever in it, has an element of poignant beauty.

The beauty of K2 is no justification to die on its slopes. Such beauty is to be seen and savoured but most importantly of all it provides the ultimate reason for us to return to our normal lives. The memory of such unforgiving beauty is something to be carried with us into our everyday lives as a reminder to us of our place in the world..........."


Originally published in "The Republican" newspaper in July 1997.