I have just finished an amazing book by Karl Purnell, titled, A Mountain Too Far. It’s about his journey to find meaning in the climbing death of his son, Christopher, who was an acquaintance of mine at college. Although I never climbed with Chris, we had mutual climbing friends that made his death seem devastating to me. I had to force myself to finish the book because of it’s emotional intensity. I’m not sure if that’s because of how well the book was written, or because Chris was a friend of mine. In any case, I highly recommend it. Here is a great excerpt:


“Over the desparate squawks of chickens, the shouts of late-arriving passengers and the bleating of a terrified goat, the bus’s engine crackles into action. The ancient, faded green vehicle jerks forward and begins to sway down the rut-filled road in a westerly direction toward Besi Sahir. At last, my journey to the high mountains along the Tibetan border is underway.”