Sports – Lessons from a Stone

My One Year Foray Into Quora

Edited Version, Uploaded February 4, 2026

I subscribed to Quora for an added something to do while laid up again in the hospital at the beginning of 2024 and during what was to be a long recovery period. I wrote a post or two during my week-long stay and then went a full year before giving it another thought.

As opposed to what I’d always thought of as a reliable question / answer based source of information, I found the platform to be in serious decline. Its algorithms and user interface aren’t exactly intuitive and it took me some time before I figured things out. Like most platforms, including your preferred video streaming services, YouTube, or most forms of social media, you have your daily feed which the site’s AI function serves-up based on individual use. The more you use the site, the more individually tailored your feed becomes. At first, and I have no idea as to what it was predicated on, my feed was all about gun control and heated, foul-mouthed arguments over the interpretation of the Second Amendment. These were the same inane arguments that have had news outlets and their respective liberal and conservative talking heads contesting and plaguing the non-gun-oriented public since the 1980’s. I was appalled by the collective waste of time, particularly because over a period spanning five decades, the only thing that has changed has been the guns, while the primary arguments over those guns have essentially remained unchanged. Big yawn!

After querying the platform to locate the “Spaces”, as Quora refers to them (there are hundreds if not thousands of topics), in which I found interest, I located just ten that resonated with my desire to contribute as a writer. By Thanksgiving of 2025, I’d written several hundred posts or provided what I believed to be necessary responses to inaccurate or less than knowledgeable posts written by others. Much of my writing has been on behalf of proactive wildlife conservation measures and raising public awareness on the state of wild places and wild things and, more specifically, just how close we are to saying goodbye to a profound number of threatened or endangered keystone species, after which entire ecosystems will quickly fail.

Because I’ve cared deeply about “The Environment” since I was old enough to think and reason for myself, I, almost without being aware of it, ventured in, headfirst and was cranking-out post after impassioned post, and response after impassioned response, in an attempt not only to inform but to compel people to “act” and put an end to fifty years of ignorance, inordinate amounts of research (we have effectively been studying many keystone species to death), lack of subject matter education, and worldwide political gridlock. When combining these factors, the end result has yielded almost nothing in terms of the kind of public awareness required to “move the ball down the field” and affect change. After all, in the end, it will be humankind itself that is in serious jeopardy. We simply cannot survive a world without other animal, insect, and plant species in it.

Though I know that the world, very much including this country, is in dire need of much more effective leadership as related to modern complexities, this was my chance to thoroughly engage in getting these extremely important points across, but what I found is that I was virtually alone even within these groups of self-purported experts on the the subject of “environmental conservation”. It was clear that there was a level of caring but it was equally clear that no one was presenting thoughts or ideas as to what to do about the mess we as human beings have created over the millenia or even during much more recent times. Even within this cross-section of “environmentally conscious” people who are trying to do the “right thing”, few seemed willing to become more deeply engaged and hear about the things that are absolutely necessary to turn things around. It seemed more to me like these Spaces were simply discussion forums where people were satisfied with comparing notes and learning more about animals they found to be cute, cuddly, or otherwise intriguing. Mere curiosities. People were attempting to better understand threatened and endangered species and the planet’s few remaining, but forever shrinking, “wild places”, but didn’t seem to comprehend the current state of affairs. Certainly not the grave nature of the circumstances surrounding these species and forever lost habitat due to human overpopulation and encroachment. That for the majority of these special animals, we’re at least thirty years past the point of no return but, even so, we owe it to the natural world to step up and give it our best effort to salvage a modicum of the way the world was for them and other, less threatened species, just one-hundred years ago.

I was overwhelmed and deeply saddened to find out for myself, once and for all, that my “fellow man” is largely incapable of the kind of empathy, compassion, and collective intelligence required to initiate substantive change even while we sit in what has quickly become the 11th hour for most of the creatures that have found their species being referred to as “threatened “, “endangered”, or even “critically endangered”.

I’ve also provided well-thought-out or researched answers to hundreds of questions on all sorts of topics (many of which were outside of my ten chosen Spaces) and was considered a key writer for most of the Spaces to which I belonged. It was fun to challenge myself to see how much I already knew about things like World History, American History, the History of World Wars I and II, the Korean War, Viet Nam, and the numerous wars in the Middle East. For many years, I’ve also had a serious interest in the History of War on this planet as a whole. I enjoyed answering questions regarding geography and various cultures as they relate to many different geographic regions. The Cold War is another favorite but, perhaps my most favored subject of all: The American West, with a particular interest spanning the past three hundred years. Late 19th Century and early 20th Century Polar Exploration and Adventure has always struck a chord with me. The areas of Mindfulness, Spiritually (not based on any given , highly specialized religion) and “Advanced Thinking” have also been at the top of my “Conversational Bucket List”. I had the opportunity to engage in answering questions on many of these personal interests and, in doing so, I did a lot of research and learned an incredible amount which helped to round-out my knowledge of many of the aforementioned subjects. Not unlike any internet platform (social or knowledge-based), depending on how you choose to utilize Quora determines whether you find it to be a valuable learning exercise or end up being fed nothing but pure garbage. You must have enough sense to discern what is factually based from that which is derived from the accompanying AI generated posts, answers, and questions, gross misinformation, and what has recently come into play in the form of rampant image fakery and plagiarism.

To become a “Contributor” as opposed to being just one of thousands of passive followers, you are either invited by a Space administrator or owner and required to submit a writing sample, or, you can contact the Space yourself and request to be a contributor and, if that site is still taking on new people, submit your writing sample and wait for a response which took just a day, or two. Many of these Spaces list several hundred contributors, but I’ve found that fewer than a quarter of them actually maintained any real presence on most of their listed Spaces. After a couple of months of feverish writing (I believed in what I was writing about and the subjects were important and well within my wheelhouse), I began to sense that something wasn’t right but I couldn’t quite describe it. So, for a time, perhaps as long as six or seven months, I felt a sense of purpose. But at the same time, I’m a uniquely qualified writer and came to it with a broad-ranging professional and avocational background and, though retired, I maintain a very busy life. Therefore, I thought it would be wise to curb my activity to just six hours a week. I could see, quite clearly, that thousands of people had lost themselves to Quora. Many had joined eight, or more, years ago. Others would submit fifteen, twenty, or up to thirty posts in a single day, so it was clear that most of these people (I’ve never understood this about social media) were feeling at least a modicum of gratification from their posts on this megalithic internet platform, where (IMO) any one individual is essentially anonymous. But I learned that this was just another sign of the times and it was likely the same with other popular social media platforms.

In contrast, I did not consider my subscription to Quora to be driven by personal social need, rather, I became a member of Quora, because I enjoy writing and it was as good a place as any to polish my and augment my skills. Writing about subjects that I believe to be important was a bonus. Though I had kept my expectations low in terms of developing any real following, in less than a year (closer to nine months) after I became an earnest contributor, I had received just over 284,000 views of my various writings. If you apply the math, that comes to 568,000 views per year. Not a significant number when compared to some long-time Qurans, but I am confident that if you were to compare a typical post that I’ve written to those of most others, you would find significant differences in writing quality, knowledgeability, substantive content, and obvious, well-intentioned effort. Some of my longer posts more closely resembled an essay on the given subject than a simple one or two paragraph post, so they were invariably far more informational and detailed. But I wasn’t writing for the general public and my subjects were well-defined, as were the audiences by virtue of the Spaces I had chosen. It was much more enjoyable and the collective knowledge much greater in the four or five guitar-centric Spaces I’d joined as a writer (with topics ranging from playing techniques, to learning about the instrument and its history from its beginnings in Western Europe, to contemporary luthiery – the art of crafting fine stringed instruments, to contemporary designs and building methods, to vintage acoustic guitars). On the contrary, it was within the five environmental conservation Spaces that I encountered such a high level of frustration.

I had never intended for my presence on Quora to be any kind of long-term engagement, but for the time I was at it, I felt a responsibility to try to affect change by altering long-held perceptions on issue of wildlife and habitat conservation. I was also on one landscape photography-geared Space and got the chance to post a portion of my collection of landscape photographs taken while partaking in a cornucopia of mountain sports and activities in Colorado and the Rocky Mountain West and, much later, here, where I live in Central Texas. Some of the pics I posted were from trips I’d taken while exploring West Texas and the Big Bend Region, including Big Bend National Park, one of the most remote and beautiful places in all of the US. I liked this photography Space a lot for its simplicity…just a place where people shared their wonderful photographs from places all over the world while not out shopping for inordinate levels of recognition or socially-driven “buzz”. Just amateur and professional photographers alike sharing some of their best work and being supportive of one another.

The thing that I did predominantly for my own edification (the part that felt the most gratifying) was in being involved as a primary contributor to the four “guitar-centric” Spaces. For these, I wrote hundreds more posts and answered hundreds of questions on topics ranging from vintage guitars to guitar maintenance and repair, reviewing both electric and acoustic guitars, advanced playing techniques, guitar studio and related gear selection, and encouraging guitarists of all levels with advice based on sixteen years of playing, buying, selling, and collecting guitars . For the most part, I enjoyed contributing to these Spaces and believe that my knowledge was appreciated by many. That bit of encouragement was born out of the feedback I would get from other Space contributors and the greater guitar community on Quora. There are dozens of “Guitar Spaces” on the platform, but I had spent some time looking into most of them before deciding to keep it to just four.

A surprisingly enjoyable example occurred when I answered a question submitted by an eleven year old boy who had been dutifully playing piano to please his gifted piano-playing parents, starting at the age of four. This meant that he’d already been taking his twice-weekly lessons for seven years before a friend introduced him to an acoustic guitar. Not surprisingly, he was smitten! His question was simple but, at the same time, fraught (for me as a reasonably objective person) with complexity.

Unlike most of my responses which came to me quickly while shooting from the hip, this question demanded some serious contemplation and empathy not only for this eleven-year-old, musically inclined kid, but for his ostensibly well-meaning parents. I took the question quite seriously before crafting a response. He had approached his parents not with altogether switching from piano to guitar, but with at least having the opportunity to try guitar while continuing with his, by now, rigorous piano regimen. They laid out a deal for him that said ‘no’ to guitar until he’d completed 8th grade, roughly three years later. That is a lengthy sentence for anyone, let alone an eleven-year-old who’d (from my point of view) already fulfilled his duty if based solely on the demands of his parents. But, unlike most parents of his generation, these were clearly parents who believed strongly that they’d had their son’s best interests in mind (particularly since they were both living any musician’s dream by playing piano as their primary source of professional income).

Hearing a bit about his parents, it was clear that neither of them had followed an easy path to finding success and had probably studied piano all the way through one of the country’s better colleges of music. They were classical players. My response both honored the efforts of the child and his parents while taking a “middle of the road” stance. I believed that these parents were extremely fortunate given the times we live in and, given that their offspring had any inclination at all to learn to play a difficult musical instrument, or was even interested in music with all the potential diversions kids have today.

My advice for him was to go to his parents with an amended plan which would afford him the opportunity to play both and see how that went for a period of one year, with a commitment to both instruments, but instead of doubling his load with more lessons, I suggested that he first see if he could pull it off under his own steam. This would, of course, lead to some “loosening” of the boy’s remaining commitment to piano, so I suggested that he put a ten hour per week cap on his guitar work. If, after one year’s time he was able to make some significant progress with acoustic guitar, he would be able to choose between the two instruments – provided he still had this same desire. The only financial requirement from his parents would be to invest in a good quality, concert-size acoustic guitar. If they do the due diligence, they’ll find that a very good guitar (one that he can grow with) can be had for just under to just over a thousand dollars. His other requirement would be to maintain his schoolwork and grades. Any way you slice it, these next three years would be difficult, but if he was of gifted musical talent, it was within the realm of being doable. I came up with this by telling him the truth: that even if their response was a “no”, continuing with piano for a few more years would not would become an obstacle to his future guitar playing journey, but, more than likely, that additional experience in playing piano and being a student of music will provide a sturdy foundation for picking up the guitar and hitting the ground already running, well ahead of others who are just starting out.

I went so far as to recommend that he show his parents my response as it should be abundantly clear that I stood on firm musical ground when proposing the idea. He contacted me about a month later to inform me that his parents had agreed to his amended counter-offer. He was extremely pleased (overjoyed) that our little plan had worked and thanked me profoundly. It made all the work I’d committed to Quora worthwhile. I am sixty-four with a number of significant health problems that took hold of my very satisfying life about six years ago and, thus, had never really had the time or energy to contribute to Quora in the first place, so, for the last month I have contributed very little. I may pick it up again someday, but I also have a blog and any time spent on Quora has been robbing me of time I’d have otherwise spent on my own “Space”. Still, I have reached thousands of people that I’d have not otherwise gotten in front of. I’m glad that I stuck with it until I found some of its more intellectual spaces and had the chance to write about things I find to be of utmost importance.

Less desirable things that I noticed about Quora, either immediately or over the course of my first few months when I’d begun to submit posts and answer questions with much more regularity. Early on, I’d made submissions to become a contributor to just four or five combined “Spaces” (to become more active rather than being a casual follower). Over time, I subscribed to five or six additional Spaces. I wouldn’t have made written submissions to any of the Spaces I had been following unless I felt that I could be of substantive value. To me, that meant crafting high-quality and interesting posts or fielding questions that were not only in my wheelhouse, but had some real appeal. I’d gone in thinking there would be many meaningful question and answer opportunities with qualities similar to the guitar scenario I provided above, but, across my other Spaces, that level of appreciation for one of my contributions turned out to be quite rare. I did have many positive interactions with other contributors within the guitar and music oriented Quora communities, the “Nature Photography” Space, and there was a Space titled “Into the Wild” which was right up my alley and I found it to be rewarding and supportive. But the wildlife and wild habitat conservation Spaces were different.

What I found to be particularly interesting as well as making me all the more wary of potential negatives which might result in my prompt exit from Quora (I do not subscribe to any other social media platform), the more I explored the site and read the bios of some of the other contributors, the more I began to see certain patterns that I didn’t find appealing within Quora’s database. Some of the site’s members were listed as contributors to as many as a hundred Spaces, yet few maintained any substantive level of contribution to the bulk of their listed Spaces. Not being able to fulfill a reasonable commitment to my chosen Spaces is precisely why I limited myself to just nine, or at times and through direct invitation, as many as twelve. I thought to myself, “What is this, he who dies having listed the most Spaces, wins?! Geez! From what I’ve learned about people in my sixty-for years of careful observation, this sort of thing was an indication of a personality, or types, of which I’d always had difficulty in establishing solid relationships. Thankfully, I am now retired and can pick and choose the kinds of people I associate with.

I was suspicious of anyone who would wish for the “world” to see how “prolific” they were as contributors without actually contributing much of anything (to most of the Spaces to which they subscribed). Even worse, I noticed that some of these same self-absorbed individuals had worked their way up through some of the same Spaces that I contributed to, only I was often selected to appear right alongside them as a “Key Contributor” in the banners of the various “About” pages of my Spaces, either immediately after the usual vetting process or after I had written just a handful of submissions (posts, answers to questions). The difference between us was that I was comparatively new to a given Space while most of these people had been submitting posts for years. The only way that I can figure this is if I’d written just enough high-quality posts to quickly be taken seriously by Space administrators or Space owners. After all, they’re going to want to advertise their key writers, the writers who are most likely to attract more followers. This factors-in as to how “Spaces” are monetized. I still don’t know, in more definitive terms, how or why I was able to move up through the ranks so quickly.

I was thankful for my good fortune thus far (I’d been a subscriber for well under a year). I had somehow managed to accelerate the process of becoming a “known” writing entity within most of my chosen Spaces. By then, just four of my Spaces were dedicated to wildlife and wild places conservation. It was within these particular Spaces where it quickly became clear that there were a number of individuals who had come to know one another (not from face to face human interaction, but virtually, through the Spaces they shared in common) and each of them had purportedly attained some sort of “elite status” through the typically five to eight years of steadfastly submitting posts and ultimately being recognized for their efforts. Most had several million views and came from educated backgrounds, claiming high-order positions career-wise and within their self-described social circles. Put bluntly, I have a strong distaste for this personality type as I had run head-long into it many times in my professional, pre-retirement life. They, and people very much like them often follow a self-made path to go on to become CEO’s or upper-echelon execs for many of this country’s corporations. This is a widely known fact which can easily be found in internet searches on the subject. There were many times during my career where I’d witnessed those with with similar personalities treating their employees in a degrading way, particularly when I had moved into loftier positions where these people had become my peers within the context of corporate structure and culture. There were a number of occasions where I had people coming to me completely distraught to see if I could do something about the “management by fear” atmosphere and regularly occurring condescension and generally poor treatment of the employees who served underneath them. At the risk of being demoted, or worse, I’ve “gone to bat” for employees assigned to me since early on in my career, so I wasn’t about to stop when I became a key player within the corporate hierarchy and had some sway. My management style couldn’t have been any more different than that of those with whom I’d had tenuous working relationships. There was no escaping them and we might even share adjoining offices. I am certain that for others the tension between those offices must have been palpable. By this point in my career, I’d read several books on the subject of sociopathy and had worked with any number of senior managers who exhibited textbook sociopathic behaviors. For me, the ensuing verbal conflicts come down to nothing more than “good versus evil” scenarios and I have had every inclination to take these people down, at least a notch, or two, in the name of the “greater good”. Since I was a kid I have felt a “calling” to defend the weak and oppose the strong and do not recall ever encountering any sort of negative consequence for taking these people on. Needless to say, I felt good about doing so. Additionally, I typically found friends in high places that I didn’t know I had.

This sort of situation has played-out for me several times on Quora but I have not once gone “looking for it). At some point, a number of these people have attempted to sabotage posts I had written with belligerent and aggressive commentary which usually came in the form of questioning the authenticity of what I had written. I had never done the same to any of them, so it left me wondering as to their reasoning. When this occurred, I would typically attempt to respond “offline” and check to see if they had their PM (personal messaging) function turned on. I do. But often, they do not and I am forced to take them on “out in the open” where readers can see the ensuing comments and responses. I do not take pleasure in shutting such individuals down and have learned to keep it short, but decisive, while choosing my words carefully such that I don’t break any of Quora’s “rules of engagement” or be off-putting to the many other readers of the given post. This is a delicate balance but, more times than not, I’ve been able to put the “shutdown” on any detractors I had picked up (not unlike excess baggage) on my journey through Quora. I don’t know why these people feel the need to attempt to diminish what I’d written (or, for that matter, what anyone had taken the time and energy to write) when virtually all of the other comments were positive in nature. I can certainly guess that it has much to do with the personality type that I’ve described. It only leaves me wishing that I could meet these people in person where they don’t have the internet to hide behind. I view them as cowardly and passive aggressive and make those views known in any response that I make. This scene seldom happens anymore, but before I could break free and simply write without counting on some sort of conflict, this happened some six or seven times until I’d finally dealt with each one of them and then it ended, abruptly.

I take absolutely no enjoyment in publicly sparring with such people and it is part of the reason that I’ve lost interest in giving Quora any more of my time. It is the primary duty of Quora’s moderators to squash this type of behavior before it gets out of control. I’m a big boy fully capable of fighting my own battles, but the main reason for my loss of interest in being a contributor on Quora is that after just a year, my experiences on the platform took on a hollowness that is difficult to describe, yet perhaps not too hard to understand. Underneath my seemingly bulletproof exterior (I have heard this many times from people I trust), I’m probably somewhere close to two-thirds introvert and one third extrovert (just enough to get by) which means that spending too much time around other people tends to leave me tapped. In other words, it’s always felt to me like I give far more than I get. The same thing holds true whether interactions are in close proximity, or through an internet connection.

I’ve never quite understood the mass appeal of social media and why it seems that millions of people obtain any sense of gratification or feelings of fulfillment by engaging in it so fully. For me, I had no social reasons for subscribing to Quora in the first place. It was simply an outlet for my writing and when it became obvious that I could not affect the lack of general ignorance regarding threatened and endangered species and tragically and rapidly diminishing habitat due to human encroachment, I felt that I had done as much as I could and further involvement would be a fool’s errand. It was, quite simply, time for me to move on.

My takeaway after a year (ten months in earnest) of pouring insights and knowledgeability into the platform, I had reached a point of diminishing returns and it was clear to me that, I alone, could not make a substantive difference. Considering the times we live in, I wonder now why I thought it would even be remotely possible. I believe now more than ever that by the time most people awaken and realize just how bad things have gotten for the billions of creatures with whom they share the planet, it’ll be far too late to salvage anything and we’ll all be (the good along with the bad) just a hop, skip, and a jump away from our long overdue demise. This statement comes after years of research and careful observation of what has inexorably transpired over the course of my life.

The basis for this thinking is simple (as I have written about exhaustively and told anyone who cared enough to listen), it will take far more time, funding, and concerted effort to make the kinds of changes necessary to turn things around (with enough time leftover) to give the world’s other creatures (creations) the chance they deserve to survive. Many of the most endangered species are high-order creatures which are the very foundation for life on planet earth, and their numbers in the wild are already so few that there aren’t enough individuals remaining to provide a healthy gene pool from which to procreate and, even if every change required for their survival happened tomorrow, it is already past the point of no return for many of them. Without them, there can be no resurrection from the damage we as human beings have already caused. So, the next time you reach for your phone to check your Twitter feed, please think about what you should be doing instead. It’s time to move on.

Kelpy Reconnoitering Hermosa Canyon

Originally Posted on Quora

Circa 2008 Canon G-10

My beloved Australian Kelpie, “Kelpy”, as named by my then six year-old daughter. Kelpy and I were spending the 2013 archery elk season (end of August through end of September) in our favorite place, up high in the “Middle of Nowhere”, Southwest Colorado. Our camp was just 30-feet behind where this picture was taken.

High Country Cabin Near Minturn, Colorado

Originally Posted on Quora

Circa 1997 Canon Digital Elf 3.2

One of Colorado’s more obscure backcountry skiing destinations, this cabin is located about twenty miles from the historic mining community of Minturn, Colorado. Four friends and I made the nine mile ski into the cabin for four days of fun and fellowship. It had been snowing on and off throughout our stay, making for some prime deep powder skiing. We skied all day everyday and were ready for some hard earned rest.

We hadn’t seen the sun in three days and, just as we were headed out (you can see our telltale single file trail), it magically cleared as if the snow gods were bidding us goodbye. I looked over my shoulder and waited a moment before snapping this pic. It was cold and sunny for the ski-out to the trailhead and our awaiting vehicles below.

Accountability: For the Sake of Itself

It’s no secret how popular climbing Everest has become. Here’s a few statistics to digest before tearing into the story. I know, there are two different figures shown for “Successful Climbs”. What do you expect for AI?!

I just got done watching “Dying for Everest”, a 2007 documentary based on double amputee Mark Inglis’s triumphant summit bid on Mount Everest and the existential happenings during that climb.

Starting at a relatively young age, Inglis had been a professional mountaineer and member of an alpine rescue team based in his home country of New Zealand. He was already a gifted and highly experienced mountaineer when he spent twelve days on New Zealand’s Mount Cook, after being caught high on the mountain with his partner in an extended blizzard before they were finally rescued. As a result, severe frostbite brought an end to his legs and feet (from the knee down). While undergoing a brutally painful and lengthy rehab, he was fitted with prosthetics and began the long road back to seeking adventure.

Fast forward to the mid-2000’s when Inglis made the decision to be the first double amputee to reach the summit of Mt. Everest and went about joining an experienced team, several of whom had summited Everest on two or more occasions and were old friends. Anymore, most people are familiar with Everest, the tallest of the world’s 8,000 meter peaks at over 29,000 feet ASL (Above Sea Level) and the endless stream of climbers of all ability levels who make the attempt each climbing season (lasting just a few months). From both an ecological and spiritual standpoint, the mountain is truly under siege. Strewn everywhere are non-biodegradable trash such as plastic water bottles and used oxygen cylinders from around base camp at 17,000 feet to the furthest reaches of the mountain, a testament to the thousands of people who have attempted the climb. Only a fraction have made it safely to the summit and the return cimb down.

Inglis and his team which included a climber known as “Cowboy” who had designed and fabricated Inglis’s highly specialized climbing legs were well funded and well prepared, enough so that they were able to contribute $80,000 to a charitable group that involves amputees. The team had ample media coverage commensurate with covering such a huge human interested story. I can recall the ferver surrounding the climb as the date closed in. There aren’t many “firsts” remaining on Everest or, for that matter, in mountaineering, adventure or extreme sports, discovery, or exploration in general. The turn of the twentieth century and the twenty years on either side were banner times with the races for the poles, polar travel, arctic and antarctic attempts and crossings. It seems that “firsts abounded”. We even made it into space by the late 1960’s. Everest is not considered the most difficult of the 8,000 meter peaks. Though they are seldom used, there are far more difficult routes on the mountain than the one taken by probably 99% of the people attempting the climb. In comparison, K2 has an unbelievably low success rate coupled with the highest death rate which is one in every four climbers. With that in mind, it’s all but inconceivable that people attempt it at all. Imagine being a father or mother and having your adventure seeking husband or wife inform you that they’ve made their decision and will be joining their team of three or five others to climb K2 during the next climbing season. In the 1970’s with the world’s climbing community saying it was impossible to do Everest without oxygen, a forty year old debate, German-Italian Reinhold Messner, one of the all-time best mountaineers not only proved them wrong once, but twice while taking one of the most difficult, but direct routes up the mountain unaided by the use of oxygen. These were feats that went unchallenged until a super-climber named Ed Visteurs repeated it sometime in the early 1990’s. So, attempting to climb Everest while being a double amputee would garner a lot of press and the climb was followed by millions.

The rest of this story isn’t so much a chronicling of Inglis’s remarkably successful climb (much has been written about the endeavor), but something that occurred along the way to the summit and its aftermath. There is a point on the mountain (generally described as being over the 26,000 foot mark) above which is considered the “Death Zone” and it is thought by all to be the most dangerous aspect where an individual climber can spend only so much time within that space and the summit, on the way both up and down. This includes spending time trying to get some windblown rest at Camp 5, perched precipitously several thousand feet below the summit. There is absolutely no margin for error including ailments such as cerebral edema which happens when the blood no longer carries enough oxygen to the brain. If it goes untreated for even a full day or two, it can lead to certain death. The primary treatment for getting someone who is suffering its ill effects is getting them down to a much lower elevation, as quickly as possible. Once at basecamp, the symptoms wii disappear on their own, that is, unless more permanent damage to the brain has already occurred.

Many climbs have ended for entire teams so that the life of one of the members can be saved in an all-for-one effort to get that team member back down the mountain. Working as fast as possible, with the death zone surrounding them, often leads to more than just the one casualty. None of the climbers have their wits about them. Some more than others, but any kind of injury is made exponentially worse simply by being that high up on the mountain. Often a climber will stop to rest for what was supposed to be just a few minutes and when they try to get up and move on, they find that they can go no further.

What many people aren’t prepared for is the area known as Green Boot Cave named after a dead Japanese climber whose green mountaineering boots are still quite visible wrapped around his feet. There are some ten or eleven other dead climbers from ill-fated expeditions in the past couple of decades whose frozen bodies decorate this part of the mountain. At that elevation, it takes decades for bodies to even begin to decay, but, since they are no longer of this world, even their own climbing buddies elect to leave them on the mountain rather than risk becoming another casualty in an attempt to haul these bodies all the way back to base camp. But in the moment that Inglis and his team were passing through this frozen battlefield, there was another body in the crack in the rock, a body which was still moving ever so slowly and trying to speak, Inglis’s team stopped for enough time to decide that there was nothing they could do for him. The stricken climber was all but gone and that was the consensus amongst the team members. Throughout the day and into the night, an estimated 30 other climbers passed the man, many without knowing he was still clinging to life. Sad to say, but even if a rescue effort had taken place now, it is highly unlikely that anything could have been done for the severely frost bitten and nearly braindead climber. From the various accounts, it is all but certain that he would have been brain dead and incapable of surviving the grueling trip down the mountain. Too much time had lapsed in a place where there is no time.

By the time the story had been picked up by the media and reached the world, the public outcry was merciless and, because Inglis’s story was already being covered heavily, the story became a story within a story and Mark Inglis and his team were being blamed for the death. Judgement wasn’t nearly has harsh within the climbing community even though the mountaineering world is traditionally unforgiving and harsh when it learns of mishaps that were largely due to poor judgment, they knew that this wasn’t one of those occurrences. This case of death high up on a Himalayan mountainside was scrutinized by a general public that knows absolutely nothing about the conditions these climbers face at such extreme altitudes. Inglis’s “trial by fire” was not conducted by an objective judge and a jury of his peers. When mountaineering accidents happen, people from both inside and outside the mountaineering community want answers and above all, they want to see real accountability. But this was extremely hurtful to Inglis who’s only real crime was being there after the crime had already been committed. Where was this climber’s team? Ostensibly, having left their comrade behind, they were off chasing the summit. Though there were several teams in that general area at the time, it is difficult to get a straight story. Again, each of these climbers wouldn’t have been functioning at their normal levels, mentally or physically. Many were simply mute or mumbling, in a hurry to keep moving toward the summit with the primary goal of summiting and getting back down below the death zone.

When looking at the full measure of accidents and catastrophic events that have occurred on Everest over the last thirty years, it is clear that there are too many climbers on the mountain at almost any given time. And, at just a few months, the climbing season is very short. I can imagine sitting in a small Tibetan cafe and “feeling” the eyes upon me from the people who have lived for centuries in the shadow of this great peak and be viewed as another clueless American who has come to desecrate their most holy of religious and cultural places. Perhaps a mother of a Sherpa who lost his life trying to make a living for his community by ferrying loads for the thousands of foreigners just passing-through each climbing season. On the other end, you’ve got a huge cloud of pressure that resides over the mountain and everyone who travels so far from home and family to pay their $50K to one of the many guiding operations with the unspoken promise of getting them up the mountain. For most, just arriving at base camp is the culmination of saving money and getting physically and mentally prepared for years. If they don’t end up among the fortunate climbers who summit and make the even more hazardous trip down to complete the climb, many are willing to literally die trying. They understand that this is the downside of what they signed-up for. With that level of commitment and focus on a dangerous goal, self imposed or otherwise, you can picture the amount of collective angst that is on Everest every single day of each climbing season. I’ll venture that it’s nothing short of being palpable. No matter how well prepared your typical Everest climber might be, there are few things in ordinary, day to day life that prepare them for that kind of pressure. As the numbers have steadily risen, there are fewer and fewer climbers that have the experience or wherewithal to even step into base camp. But at roughly $50K per climber, there is big money at stake and many people simply talk their way onto a climb.

It’s not like the route taken is difficult. It is the easiest way to get people up and down the mountain and is a predominantly well-marked and maintained path interspersed with a number of quasi-technical features to best along the way. But it is not for the faint of heart. It is the sheer number of climbers that has become the greatest challenge (and hazard). During a Camp 5 to summit,-push, there may be eight, or more, teams of six to twelve climbers vying for very limited space the entire way up and down. In most places, there is a single path to be taken with invariable “log jams” occurring in places like the “Hillary Step”, a moderately technical section of the route that spells mishap for numerous climbers each year. When looking down from this vantage point, there is a seemingly endless stream of people that have been forced as if like cattle from a herd into a confined, singlefile corridor. If you stumble or fall, you’re causing an undesirable stoppage. Now picture people of all abilities from guides and those who may already have summited four or five times to work-from- home gym rats or even a celebrity or two. This all makes for a day in the life of a climber on a push for the summit, typically a sixteen to twenty hour stint when finally getting back into Camp 5.

Additional pressure builds during instances where a storm is on its way (this happens often and accounts for many bad decisions) and climbing against the greatly reduced time allotment pushes many people beyond their ability to cope with the added physical and mental strain. Perhaps they’re feeling the effects of altitude sickness, are already running low on their oxygen appropriation for the day. Or, their guide who senses that a particular climber isn’t up to the task at hand has to make the never enjoyable but hugely important decision to send them down along with another guide to ensure their safety during the long and hazardous trek back to base camp. The team leader will now become the one and only guide. If the weather holds, only a fraction of those who began their summit push in the wee hours of the morning, in the pitch black darkness of this other-worldly mountainscape, wiill summit that day. It is one of the single most difficult 24 hour periods in all of sports.

Inglis summited and spent a bit of time at the top. By the time he reached Green Boot Cave hours later on the now dark trail, the stricken climber would be no more. By the time the world heard the story, it was apparent that Inglis had been singled out from the thirty-two other climbers who were there that tragic day on Everest. In fulfilling his double -amputee dream, his story was the best one for the media to latch onto and embellish. It took considerable time for the “Trial by Public Opinion” to calm (months ) and sift fact from fiction. Numerous climbers had been informally interviewed upon returning to basecamp and it seemed that with each telling, there was a different story. But there were ample similarities, perhaps, the most important of which was that not a single climber had assigned a speck of blame on Inglis as it related to any other climber or the whole of the ignominious failure to do “the right thing”, as the world would perceive the dilemma. To comprehend what occurred (or didn’t occur) on the mountain that day, it is of paramount importance to remind ourselves that the accident happened in Everest’s”Death Zone”, a place where no one on earth could still be 100% in control of their mental faculties. It was later found that many of the climbers who passed the body that day either thought it was dead just like the other bodies they’d come upon, or didn’t see him crouched in the crack (“cave”) right next to the long-since frozen Japanese (“Green Booted”) climber.

I don’t think many of us understand the motivation behind trying to have immediate closure to some sort of tragic mystery, particularly when it involves a dead body or a person who seemingly vanished from the face of the earth, but, as we’ve all seen on TV shows like long-aired CSI, rushing to judgement rarely turns out well, especially for those persons who initially appeared to be a primary suspect or person of interest. Their lives have almost invariably been changed for the worse even after being formally ruled-out of an investigation or exonerated. It was no different for Mark Inglis whose only crime was being a celebrated person for having the intelligence, grit, and determination we all wish for but never seems to find us. It can only come from knowing the darkest of places and having the temerity to wriggle back out and never, ever throw in the towel. To attack him personally and professionally for what happened that day was wrong and the people who never went so far as to find out what really happened before pointing the finger own him one huge apology. I hope he one day gets it, at least a modicum of it.