The book Hidden Mountains tells the story of a mountain climb gone wrong, when four experienced climbers set out to reach the summit of an unexplored mountain range in rural Alaska. Well outside civilization, one of the climbers has a devastating accident and nearly dies. Though he ends up being rescued through the heroic efforts of an emergency response team, he remains paralyzed and wheelchair-bound for the rest of his life.
As gripping as the story is, the book serves a greater purpose as an evaluation of personal risk levels. What kinds of risks are worth taking, and what would be better off discarded? The author evaluates this question for his own life and for the world of climbing in general.
There’s a whole genre of “mountain climbing gone wrong” books. Most of the time, the lesson they leave the reader with is one of unbridled positivity. “Yeah, life is risky! You just gotta go for it!”
But in Hidden Mountains, the author makes a distinction between moderate risk and very high risk. He concludes that moderate risk is often worth taking. Choices of moderate risk are the highlights of many lives, after all: those times when something felt scary, but we rose to the challenge and were better off because of it.
When it comes to activities that are very high risk, however, the expected value is far murkier. For most people, most of the time, other things in life are more important. Take chances, yes, but not extreme risks.
Of course, the distinction between risk levels is often blurred. You can’t always determine or even perceive the correct amount of risk in advance of any activity. Sometimes, climbers experience terrible accidents on expeditions that are not categorically dangerous.
Nor is skill the only determinant of outcome. You can be highly skilled and caught in the same avalanche that an amateur manages to avoid. There’s a randomness to life; a pedestrian who gets hit by a bus would have been a lot safer free-soloing a mountain that day.
But the greater point is: within the limits of what you can control, you want to take the right kinds of risks. Push it, play hard, go to the edge—but just as courage is a virtue, so to is the choice to protect your life wherever possible. You only have one of them, after all. Other mountains await your climb.
As for me, I was never a mountain climber, but for years I had my own risky hobby of visiting every country in the world. To be clear, the great majority of the quest was not particularly dangerous. Much of it was rather routine, at least in terms of a series of checklists, flights, and visas.
When people said they wanted to travel with me, I told them that they’d probably be disappointed. Instead of undertaking wild adventures everywhere, I spent a lot of time waiting around. (The ability to wait for long periods of time is an under-appreciated skill in life, in addition to travel.)
That said, some places were certainly more dangerous than others. To go to “every country” means you go to some that are off the tourist trail for a good reason. In Libya, I left the country the day before the civil war that toppled Muammar Gaddafi began. Within the week, commercial flights had been cancelled and the U.S. government used military ships to evacuate its citizens. At the time I was vaguely disappointed, joking to friends that I always seemed to get out before the action started.
I feel differently about things like that now. I’m not sure I fully understood how dangerous some of the situations were, or maybe I just powered through because I didn’t want to give up. I’m proud of those experiences, but I wouldn’t repeat all of them, at least not in the same carefree way that I did then.
One time at an event, a reader suggested I go back and visit every country in reverse order. I laughed and said that maybe he should take on that challenge. I still travel a lot, but I don’t go to war zones very often.
I like the lesson of Hidden Mountains: take moderate risks. Weigh the value of what you might gain against what could be lost. Pursue the right kinds of challenge.
* No comments on this post, but they’ll be back (with something new!) on Monday.