Essays | Themes | Research
Scaling the Heights
— Peter Neame, essay
––Theresa D’Aiuto Sokol, videos
— OLLIvia, Introduction
Why We Climb Mountains
— OLLIVIA
At first glance, scaling a granite face or an icy ridge seems the domain of daredevils or thrill-seekers. Yet beneath the obvious adrenaline rush lies a more profound call: a yearning to discover personal limits and touch the raw edge of the earth. Mountains embody challenge, mystery, and solitude. They demand total presence, physical endurance, and mental clarity. Each step upward demands focus, each breath becomes deliberate, each muscle contraction a negotiation between determination and fatigue. The drive to climb arises from a desire to strip away distractions, to confront vulnerability, and to rediscover an untamed self.
The sensation of climbing steep mountains and trekking through snow and ice blends hardship with transcendence. Bitter winds cut like cold steel across exposed skin, and the biting cold seeps into bones, reminding the climber of mortality. Yet in that ruthless environment, every pulse of life feels amplified. Hearts pound, lungs expand with frosty air, and every footfall resonates with intent. Time slows on narrow ridges, and the mind enters a heightened state where minute sensations become vivid: the crunch of snow beneath boots, the shuddering echo of distant avalanches, the crystalline sparkle of ice under a pale sun. Pain and beauty coexist, forging a sense of aliveness that cannot be replicated elsewhere.
Reaching the summit brings a fleeting moment of profound stillness. Standing above the clouds, a climber experiences unity with both earth and sky. Exhaustion gives way to awe. The world unfurls in silent majesty, peaks and valleys stretching to the horizon. In that suspended heartbeat, climbers taste freedom from the mundane. They grasp the infinitesimal in themselves and the boundless in nature. Then the descent begins, forever changed by the mountain’s austere wisdom. That surge of perspective lingers long after boots touch the valley floor. It ignites dreams to come.
Two Video Chronicles of Excursions in Summer 2025
— Theresa D’Aiuto Sokol
We’ve known for a while that one of our grandsons was an avid mountain climber and cave explorer. We would nod politely when told he was going off somewhere to climb or dive, never fully understanding the risks, the elements, the labor and the commitment he invests in following his passion. Quite by accident, we received a tranche of raw drone video footage and still shots from his recent trip to Peru, where he had climbed Mount Alpamayo (19,512 ft.) and Mount Yanapaccha (17,913 ft.). What we saw was stunning. The sheer beauty of the drone footage combined with still images bore witness to the extraordinary strength and effort required to ascend these peaks. It took our breath away.
When I asked him if I could share these files here, he said he had more footage and immediately sent us video and images of his recent climb to the summit of Grand Teton (13,775 ft.) in Wyoming. I became convinced the best way to share this material was to showcase it in the short films below. Click on each one to access the videos on our YouTube channel. To enlarge them for full effect, click on the expand icon on the bottom at the right. You can scroll down the page to access a gallery of still images from his climbs that pertain to the equipment and techniques explained in Peter Neame’s essay below.
Climbing for the Uninitiated
— Peter Neame
“Hey, mister! You know there’s a path round the back?”
“How do you get the rope up there?”
Both are perfectly sensible questions from passersby who stumble across a group of people inching their way up a cliff—or, stranger still, sliding down a rope dangling from above.
Some folks even slide down ropes purely for fun (a practice called abseiling or rappelling). Most climbers, though, treat it as a necessary chore—cavers use it to reach the depths of the earth, while climbers mainly use it to get back down for a beer and a meal.
The Basics
First, yes—climbing is a little crazy.
Second, the amount of specialized gear today is mind-boggling. It used to be much simpler.
Third, how do you actually climb? In principle, it’s straightforward. Unlike walking, you can use your hands. But beyond “jumping-off height,” a slip can mean serious injury or worse. At its simplest, climbing requires no equipment at all—it’s just moving up rock. The purest form is bouldering: climbing large rocks without ropes. Practitioners lug around huge padded mats to cushion their falls. To outsiders, they look like “pad people” wandering the woods with mattresses strapped to their backs.
Snow and Ice
Climbing frozen terrain is another story. Snow and ice offer fewer natural holds. On snow, you can kick steps into the surface, but it’s exhausting. To help, climbers strap crampons—spiked frames—to their boots, often with forward-facing points for biting into ice. Think “Mad Max footwear.” Hands are less useful here, so climbers wield ice axes. Once simple walking sticks with a pick and adze, they’ve evolved into curved, aggressive-looking tools. You swing one above your head, bury the pick in ice, and pull on the shaft as though it were a handhold. A further wrinkle with frozen terrain—it freezes better at night, so high mountain climbing often starts in the very early hours of the morning (yes, in the dark) so that the snow is not slushy. There is also a lower risk of things falling off from above you – an obvious thing to avoid.
Safety, More or Less
How do you keep this from being suicidal? In the past, the motto was “the leader never falls,” because the equipment couldn’t be trusted. The leader climbs first, placing protective gear into cracks or holes. If they slip, the rope—managed by their partner below—catches them, limiting the fall to roughly twice the distance to the last anchor. On ice, rock is preferred for anchors if available, but otherwise climbers rely on “ice screws”— exactly what they sound like—drilled into the frozen surface for protection.
Click images to enlarge and read detailed captions.
Retired Biochemist, USF Professor, and mountain climber, Peter Neame, grew up in Great Britain, got his degree at Liverpool University, and moved to the U.S. in the 1970’s. His wide range of interests have led him to take numerous OLLI classes. The crag behind him is Clogwyn d’ur Arddu in North Wales – one of his favorite places. This fall Peter is leading the Great Decisions Foreign Policy Discussion Group with Ara Rogers. Meetings will be held in two sessions on Mondays from 1-3 p.m. Part 1: 9/22-10/1. Part 2: 10/27-11/17 • Online. Register here.
Theresa D’Aiuto Sokol, was an opera singer and music teacher in a career that lasted over forty years. She sang in Germany, Austria, Italy, Belgium, the U.S. and in the far east, and is an accomplished stage director. Her production credits include regional opera and theater companies as well as USF where she was Opera Director and a professor of Voice. After retiring from her performing and teaching career, she found that video and web editing offered a natural extension of her creative interests. She is Editor and Digital Producer of OLLI Connects and is a site editor for OLLI’s USF website. Theresa holds degrees from Manhattanville College in New York and USF, and is fluent in German and French.
OLLIvia is an Artificial Intelligence Agents created by Microsoft Copilot, using prompts that reflect the characteristics we find most often in OLLI-USF members (age, education, career etc.) As is the case with everything related to Artificial Intelligence, She has been added to our editorial staff as an opinion page analysts and occasionals Features commentator to take advantage of her AI capabilities, while maintaining a somewhat human touch.
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