Mental Issues

refer to loss of cognitive ability with altitude. This is a subtle phenomenon as the climber is unaware of its occurrence. How COULD he be aware of it? It is not possible as seen in the following argument.

summit ridge

Suppose a high altitude mountaineer is aware of his diminished mental (and decision making) abilities. That awareness alone would then indicate a level of cognition that runs counter to the original premise that mental capacity is wanting. As a contradiction results, the original premise must be false.

Poor decisions at extremely high altitude have the potential for fatal consequences. On an expedition such as mine, all major decisions are handled by the lead guide, possibly in conferral with headquarters stateside. The benefits of experience are then paramount, leading to a vastly diminished probability of error.

Guided Mount McKinley expeditions are nearly immune from serious life-threatening events - an observation suggesting such experience is critical in mitigating any altitude-induced errors of judgement.

Then too one generally ascends the West Buttress slowly enough that altitude issues are an uncommon event in the first place. In contrast at Aconcagua, Kilimanjaro and elsewhere altitude is the prevalent factor in aborted climbs. Both venues see a roughly one-in-three success rate - yet at Mount McKinley the rate is typically a bit over one-half.

One positive aspect of climbing Mount McKinley in June rather than May is that the resulting pressure altitude is lower as a result of warmer temperatures. I have demonstrated this phenomenon with rigorous application of first principles, the resulting data in agreement with observation. The effect is sufficient as to "lower" the summit by several hundred feet - a signficant amount of note to all mountaineers.

Emotional Issues

ajor psychological forces are at work when living (existing?) on a mountainside for nearly three weeks. One abandons all the usual comforts of home in an (equitable?) trade-off for reaching the summit. The indoor plumbing (with free-flowing water); artificial lighting (and thus an enjoyable evening); microwave oven (and thus instant hot food); television (mind-numbing entertainment). Not to mention a comfortable bed and a hot shower.

nearing Windy Corner

Presumably one does not embark on a major expedition without having already relegated these objects of modern life to the back burner of one's expectations.

Nevertheless, when you add cold (very cold?) temperatures; unavailability of your favorite foods (I adore ice cream); and oxygen starvation, the pressures for a more cushy existence mount.

Often these desires manifest in extended conversation regarding what food is to be eaten at the first post-climb feast. Thoughts of meal-sized salads; nachos, pizza, and steak are commonplace.

Mount Hunter from Kahiltna Base Camp.

I am absolutely certain that the vast majority of Americans would not tolerate a single night camping - let alone doing so halfway towards the stratosphere. They insist on motels when traveling, with nary a thought of how they would comply to a regimen of sleeping bag and tent on a bed of snow.

I actually rejoice when learning of a major electricity blackout - all those people are suddenly plunged into camping mode. It's how humans existed for all but the past 150 years, and serves a great lesson after which one is suitably humbled, appreciative all-the-more for all those modern conveniences that are supposed to make one happier.

I equally suspect that the majority of Third World inhabitants would easily adapt, and accept such a lifestyle - if and only because their own experience is far more similar to overnight camping. The paucity of oxygen, however, would still be problematic unless they hail from Bolivia or Tibet.

So how many of us want to go home? I doubt that any naysayer speaks truthfully. That is NOT demonstrating a lack of faith in the expedition, nor in the eventual success of its purpose. Rather, one simply puts up with the hardship for the greater goal to which we all are entirely devoted.

I even bring a "tiny beaver", at most 2 ounces, who constantly smiles at me with his buck teeth from atop the tent's interior. He's simply too cute to be ignored. For others a satellite telephone might be of significant benefit to merit its weight. Whatever works.

Personal Issues

his is a grab bag of assorted items - the snoring sleeper; the person who wants the same meal every morning when others desire change; those who first break down the tent while others wish to eat breakfast first; the person who continues climbing while others desperately need a break.

On a guided expedition such as the current one many of these issues are obviated: there is no food choice each morning; one drinks and eats precisely when hot water suddenly becomes available - deconstructing the tent waits. And the decision to move or stay put is made for you, presumably with the collective (rather than individual) benefit in-mind.

What of the uncooperative person? He who cannot learn from mistakes - such as stepping on the rope? One who constantly finds fault with others - and expresses such misgivings? The individual who fails to do his share of camp chores? The most vexing and problematic issue is he who cannot maintain the group pace.

Guide James is often funny - here with a more sedate Caitlin. (DC)

The expedition is a miniature society wherein every participant must cooperate with every other member in order for the entire team to function efficiently. When problems arise they can be discussed, and, most commonly, compromises are then made. For our climb the responsibility of rectification falls squarely on the guide(s).

On Mount McKinley any personality conflicts can be magnified since often the weather can turn terribly "south" in very short order. The resulting stressful situation often brings out the worst in people, their inner selves laid bare for the first time.

Indeed,