Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
It would be really easy to write off the Dawn Wall as impossible. In terms of climbing technique, I'm learning a new language on this granite.
At its best, climbing becomes a life focus around which everything else must orbit and at its least is an excellent diversion from the real world.
So many diseases and illnesses have fundamental roots in the lack of clean water. Resolving the clean water crisis would mitigate a lot of problems.
The depth of any story is proportionate to the protagonist's commitment to their goal, the complexity of the problem, and the grace of the solution.
The common thread in all of my climbing is it was something new, something never done before. That commonality is more important than the discipline.
Every athlete at his peak is going to perform with a different mental cocktail. I thrive in the underdog, reserved, it's-not-over-till-it's-over mindset.
Mathematicians have a certain type of mind, and climbers have a certain type of mind, because climbing poses these incredibly interesting problems for them.
I discovered and fell in love with skiing long before I started to climb. Skiing was really my first calling. As a kid, I grew up skiing in jeans in Minnesota.
I've always been interested in working with top athletes, athletes who are pushing the edge and are really progressive in the outdoor space and adventure world.
The two great risks are risking too much but also risking too little. That's for each person to decide. For me, not risking anything is worse than death. By far.
You do wonder - when you are at 28,000 feet, the height that aeroplanes cruise at, when you are struggling to draw breath and every limb aches - why do I do this?
The mainstream audience has a certain picture of what climbing is all about: man conquering mountain. But you can't conquer a mountain, though it may conquer you.
I've hidden behind the camera my whole life because I much, much, much prefer shooting. Being behind the camera is my safe space, and it's my creative space, too.
I'm practical, very data-driven, and process-oriented. If I look at a radar and see a giant green blob coming toward me, I'm thinking it's probably going to snow.
Right on through today, my lungs and stamina are my engine. I'm not nearly the strongest guy or the most flexible, but I can definitely sustain pace on the mountain.
We who walk the narrow line have stood for free thinking for thousands of years. Let us continue balancing within the world as we try to understand the space between.
It's one of the most fundamental desires of man, of being free and flying unhindered, and it really seems to go a lot with our founding fathers' principles of freedom.
I try to live intentionally, and the things that move me, I'm going to throw myself at them. I want to see what my potential is. I'm always curious to see what the edge is.
You can’t coach desire, and no matter how fancy your training plan or how high your stated goals are, it comes down to getting out the door and doing the work day after day.
I am not enough to be only in the mountains, not enough to be on an expedition. I believe that if the walks uphill, then with some goal, and that goal is to climb to the top.
I don't have a lot of pressure on myself to be successful. I'm more of an artist. I just try to make myself more a part of the most beautiful painting as possible. And enjoy it.
I grew up studying martial arts, playing violin, swimming competitively, so I already had athletic focus, discipline and training. When I brought that to climbing, I became passionate.
The way we approached Meru, and the way we approach a lot of these mountains, is with humility. A sense of, 'Is it going to give us passage?' Your mental attitude can affect the outcome.
I like to think that images of people doing amazing things may open people's eyes to the human potential, to the idea that people can do the extraordinary when they set their minds to it.
I won't ski in the backcountry the day after a big storm anymore. The mountains are so humbling. As soon as you think you're on top or crushing it, that's when you need to be really careful.
Within a month of intense life in the mountains is going through so much, what used to be a period of several years; This is a occupancy for people greedy for life - human life is not enough.
The most beautiful experiences I've had climbing are when everything is simplified. Free soloing is the simplest thing, until you learn to fly or to walk on air - which I feel is all possible.
People say, 'Are you insane?' But the most successful climbers are the most calculating, with the most refined sense of risk. They're hyper-conscious of safety. They're the least insane people I know.
Mentorship is an incredibly huge responsibility. And you need to choose your mentors carefully, just like mentors choose their apprentices carefully. There has to be trust there, on a very deep level.
Creativity needs to extend beyond the lens. Find creative ways to showcase your work and get it seen. Straight up tenacity, hard work and determination will always be part of the equation, so get to it.
Great images take you on a journey via a single photograph. The depth and layers pull your eye all over the frame, causing you to pick up interesting pieces along the way, ultimately coming to a climax.
I think being a good dad is on the list of things to do. But, I will always ski, climb, surf, and be out in the mountains and oceans. It's who I am. My goal is to just keep doing it all and enjoying it.
The climbs up the Hand of Fatima, which is 2,000 feet, and Naga Parbat, which is just over 15,000 feet, were spectacular. The Hand of Fatima and the Kaga Tondo, in Mali, is a personal favourite of mine.
When you're climbing something as challenging as Meru, it's all about efficiency. Even a decision as small as what to eat for dinner would expend energy you need for making other, more dramatic decisions.
I have a strong feeling for it, and I think us as humans perceive all of that - the pressure change and the moon and the wind and whether a storm is moving in on us - if we just are close enough to nature.
When I show up in New York, and I look at the skyline, it's like showing up in a mountain range. My gaze goes toward the most impressive-looking climb. It's always gone to the top of the World Trade Center.
On this proud and beautiful mountain we have lived hours of fraternal, warm and exalting nobility. Here for a few days we have ceased to be slaves and have really been men. It is hard to return to servitude.
Entranced by the flight of a raven, I watch its shadow move effortlessly against golden, shimmering granite. I long to be that free, flying above the cluttered world of normalcy, where so many are half alive.
As I hammered in the last bolt and staggered over the rim, it was not at all clear to me who was the conqueror and who was the conquered. I do recall that El Cap seemed to be in much better condition than I was.
I'm a pretty wild guy and I live pretty close to nature - I've often lived in caves or on the edge of cliffs or in forests - so it's just second nature for me to tap into the movings of the weather and the world.
There is no response to stubbornly by many posed the question of the meaning of expeditions in the high mountains. I've never felt the need for such a definition. I walked to mountains and defeated them. That's all.
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.
I am always concerned with finding the right spot and the right shot, so sometimes I forget to appreciate the skill of my fellow adventurers, but I am aware of how my life has been changed by my ability with a camera.
I think drug addicts have brains wired like adventurers and they didn't get the opportunity to find it. You know, the people I get to work with - not all of them are well-adjusted. Some of them are driven by heavy demons.
The moment before I jump is filled with anxiety and what-ifs. But then as soon as I enter the air, I'm filled with this calmness and that's the main attraction to it. That's why I do these death-consequence pursuits or arts.
I just love any place that I can sit in the sun and feel the warmth of the sun's rays, and feel the connection to the planet, really tapping into how small I am and really how insignificant I am in comparison to the universe.
I've tried to eat little shrubs before. We were on an unsupported 20-plus day traverse, following the migration of endangered antelope across the Chang Tang Plateau. We were like, 'Oh, this is what they ate; we should try it.'
Becoming a parent has changed the risk calculus for me. But it might be age, too, and seeing a lot of friends die in the mountains. Will I take the same risks I took in my 20s? Probably not, but I will always push myself in the mountains.
I loved going to the Chiang Kai Shek Memorial in Taipei to watch all the old Chinese people doing tai chi and practicing kung fu. The monument was made of white marble, and it was beautiful. Sometimes my dad and I would practice with them.
Traveling fast over complex technical terrain requires a high level of technical ability and the endurance to support it. These two quite divergent capabilities need to be developed over years of practice. Omitting either limits your potential.