This is How it Starts

The following is an edited excerpt from the new book, The Altitude Journals by David J. Mauro.

People ask me why I did it. They want to know why I chose to risk my life so many times, why, at age forty-four, after living a comfortable, safe life as a financial planner, I suddenly declared myself a mountain climber and took on the highest summit of each continent — the Seven Summits. Only sixty-five Americans have survived this quest. I am the sixty-fifth.

I get this “why” question all the time, when I’m speaking at gatherings or just walking down the street. But the answer is too complicated to even make a run at it.

Could I explain about the Grand Wager without sounding insane? And what about the mad obsession, the personal demons, the calling, and the glory that passed through me with the resonance of pure love as I stood on each summit? Would anyone understand the essential part that performance improv played in this quest?

I certainly could not mention the voice. Nope. People who hear voices end up featured in unflattering headlines. So when people ask me why, I just tell them, “It’s a long answer. Maybe someday we can grab a beer and I’ll tell you all about it.” I never have.

The truth is that most of the time I was on this journey, I did not know why I was doing it. Though I am not a religious person, I am spiritual. I believe life has laid out an incredible path for each of us, and when we quiet our minds, it is revealed one stone at a time. I didn’t know where this path was heading and often hoped it would be a beach instead of a frozen peak in air so thin my brain couldn’t manage simple math.

But it was always another mountain, in some far-off place where getting there was sometimes more dangerous than the climb itself. So I went, even though it made no sense, trusting that some greater purpose was being served and that one day it would all ring true. It has.

The Turning Point

A cardboard tube, addressed to me arrived in the mail: a birthday gift from my sister, Noelle, and her husband, Ty, in Anchorage, Alaska.

Ty had worked for several years as an evening news anchor for the ABC affiliate in Anchorage. In 1999, he filmed a documentary detailing his team’s attempt to climb Mount McKinley (Denali), the high summit for North America (20,320 feet). He won an Emmy for the piece.

Television began transitioning to high definition a few years later, but almost nothing had been filmed in HD. So in the spring of 2006, Ty decided he would produce a follow-up documentary one year hence, again attempting Denali, but this time filming in high definition.

Ty assembled a team of strong climbers, firemen from Kenai, Alaska. But Ty also wanted a few nonclimbers on the team for the human interest and fresh perspective they would bring to the story line.

About five months prior, Ty called to ask if I would be interested. “I wouldn’t even invite you if I didn’t think you could do it,” he said.

“But I’m not even a mountain climber,” I said.

“Well, just think about it. It’s a year away,” he said.

I did think about it. Though I never seriously considered joining the climb, it made me feel good that Ty had thought enough of me to offer.

I removed one end of the cardboard tube and poured out its contents. Two climbing poles fell to the floor. The enclosed note read, “Happy birthday, Super Climber!”

I still did not believe I could make it to the top of Denali, but I felt certain my life was at a low enough point that failing would not bother me much. I realize now that a person who believes he has nothing left to lose is a fantastic and dangerous soul. But at that point, I was focused on Ty’s belief in me.

By climbing standards, it was probably the worst rationale a person could choose for taking on the continent’s most dangerous mountain.

But in that moment, I decided I would accept the challenge, and in so doing, set my life on a path through forests and wastelands, over glaciers and clouds, beside cannibals and penguins, and in the company of elephants and gun runners.

Over the next seven years, I would speak with the dead, fall in love again, and come to know the greater purpose of my life.

For more incredible stories check out David’s book, The Altitude Journals.