I’ve been to places where there are mountains. National Parks, and such. During some of those trips, I ventured along paths, up, up, and up, until we reached the top of the trail. I don’t think that classifies as having climbed a mountain, but I sure did some walking and scrambling to get up there.
If I may take another brief offshoot here. I have a problem with the whole “hiking” thing. The word. Not the activity. People say they are going hiking. But really, they are just walking. The word hiking makes it sound so rigorous and difficult. Thoreau just went for a plain old walk in the woods. I think he had it right. And I can tell you this, I’ve walked up a few steep hills in San Francisco that were a lot tougher than walking down a dirt path surrounded by trees. But in San Francisco, it is walking. In Tennessee, it is hiking. Or so they say.
Anyway. Back to walking up mountains, and actually climbing them. I would say there is a major distinction there. Climbing requires tools, such as pickaxes, ropes, and such. And those little spikey boots.
One of those people was George Mallory. His full, full, name was actually George Herbert Leigh Mallory. He was born on June 18, 1886, in Mobberley, Cheshire, England. They smile there. Like the cat.
The reason I write about him now is that he died on this date, June 8, 1924, somewhere on the North Face of Mount Everest, Tibet.
He was a renowned British explorer and mountaineer. Back in those days, he was a leading member of early expeditions to Mount Everest. The man who finally challenged the mountain.
Remarkably, they don’t give credit for anyone reaching the summit of Mount Everest until Sir Edmund Hillary came along. Hillary and Sherpa mountaineer Tenzing Norgay became the first climbers confirmed to have reached the top, on May 29, 1953.
Back to Mallory. He came from a long line of clergymen, a god-fearing man. During the time he was a student at Winchester College, one of his teachers asked Mallory to go along on an outing to the Alps. He took to it like peanut butter takes to jelly. Mallory developed a strong aptitude for climbing. And had those cute little legs to prove it.
He continued his studies, all the way through graduating from the University of Cambridge. After that, he became a schoolmaster. But the entire time, he worked on refining his climbing skills in the Alps and in Wales. So many other climbers, with more experience, said that Mallory was a natural and that he had catlike climbing abilities. He was also very good at finding, and conquering new routes.
He became a longtime member of Britain’s prestigious Alpine Club. And, unlike a book club, where you can eat little snacks and sip lemonade, the Alpine Climbing Club decided to assemble members for the first major expedition to Mount Everest. Mallory was the top choice.
And so they went. It is said that the third time is the charm, I suppose. Their first expedition took place in 1921. It was mostly for reconnaissance. Their mission was to locate Everest, even before they could explore the mountain’s base. No one had ever done it before. At least, not a bunch of white men from Europe.
The second expedition mounted in 1922, came along with a major innovation — the brand new invention of using bottled oxygen. Mallory and his team climbed without using that O2 and reached a height of 27,300 feet. They tried again a few days later. But that ended horribly when his party was caught in an avalanche. Seven people were killed.
Then the third time around, in 1924. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to go back to Everest. Before leaving for the trip, someone asked him why climbers struggled to scale Everest. That’s when he gave his famous reply, “Because it’s there.”
They caught some bad luck with this expedition, as they experienced high winds and deep snow. So, Mallory and a young and less-experienced climber named Andrew Irvine set off for their journey to the summit. They started out from their base camp on the morning of June 8. Mallory and Irvine were never seen again.
In 1975 a Chinese climber discovered a body that he described as being that of an Englishman. It was Mallory’s body, at 26,760 feet. Experts determined that he had died after a bad fall. Mallory’s body was buried where it had been discovered. Irvine has yet to be found.
So, the question remains. Should we really climb a mountain just because it is there? Should we do certain things just because they exist?
I think in life, we should choose our actions wisely. Some things need to be conquered, and other things need to be left alone. And knowing the difference, and recognizing the gap between the two, is where our wisdom lies. If we slow down and listen to our wisdom.
Walk this way.
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“Because it’s there.”
― George Mallory
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“Getting to the top is optional. Getting down is mandatory.”
― Ed Viesturs, No Shortcuts to the Top: Climbing the World’s 14 Highest Peaks
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“Climb if you will, but remember that courage and strength are nought without prudence, and that a momentary negligence may destroy the happiness of a lifetime. Do nothing in haste; look well to each step; and from the beginning think what may be the end.”
― Edward Whymper, Scrambles Amongst the Alps
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Climb. Walk. Do what it takes. Or don’t.
