i just finished reading The Climb by Anatoli Boukreev and G.Weston DeWalt. it documents Boukreev’s recollection of the ’96 Everest tragedy and how he’d saved his clients from death in the blistering cold after their summit bid which was loop-holed with time delays, terrible weather, and the lack of sufficient oxygen bottles and manpower.

yes Anatoli is a hero, and so is everyone else who tries to lengthen the life of another human being on a mountain that can take yours without so much as lifting a finger.

but my thoughts are with those who’re left behind to rest in the eternal embrace of everest. what can one possibly be thinking when you know that you’ve been left for dead by your teammates and guides? what would this helplessness translate into, when you know you’ll be physically alone to face the last moments of your life?