Stand at the base and look up at 3,000 feet of blankness. It just looks like there's no way you can climb it. That's what you seek as a climber. You want to find something that looks absurd and figure out how to do it.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
There's a constant tension in climbing, and really all exploration, between pushing yourself into the unknown but trying not to push too far. The best any of us can do is to tread that line carefully.
If you don't have a mountain, build one and then climb it. And after you climb it, build another one; otherwise you start to flatline in your life.
It's a heavy burden to look up at the mountain and want to start the climb.
Whatever that means, however you got on that mountain, why not try to climb it? And do it in your own way.
I've definitely got lists of things I'd love to accomplish as a climber. But let's face it: The world's full of climbers, and the realm of unexplored, unclimbed peaks is shrinking rapidly.
Climbing is what I do.
Anytime you finish a climb, there's always the next thing you can try.
As a professional climber, that's the question you always get: Why, why, why? It's an ineffable thing; you can't describe it.
You learn over years of expeditions that having faith, and putting one foot in front of the other, you do end up pulling off climbs that seem completely impossible. There's a certain beauty to that. It has an allure.
When I climb a building, I've been there already, and carefully planned how to start the climb as well as how to do it.