How a Failed Mountain Climb Spawned an Epic Documentary

Making a living as a mountaineer is as iffy as it is dangerous. Aspiring pros typically spend years living out of a van, dumpster-diving with raccoons for food in campground parking lots, and climbing as often as they can. The best ones find a mentor, work summers as park guides, and pick up some sponsors, though they’re often paid in free swag, not the kind of cash that passes for a real salary. At last, they go on expeditions to the world’s major ranges, and if the mission is sufficiently dramatic or they’re fortunate enough to survive a CNN-worthy catastrophe, they begin second careers as motivational speakers.

That path presents a comic paradox, and not only because it’s funny to watch someone who sleeps in the dirt school suited executives on leadership. Rather, it’s because while much of what mountaineers can speak to—forecasting, contingency planning, teamwork—is relevant to corporate audiences, climbers are often vague and self-deluded about what motivates them. “Because it’s there” is George Mallory’s famous explanation for attempting to summit Mt. Everest. Even that’s preferable to the more common refrain, “If you have to ask, you’ll never understand.”