Depression can be like a fog, thick and heavy, obscuring all but the brightest of lights. But, with effort, we can begin to cut through it and see the light of dawn.

As the dust settles on another Everest season, and our team makes its way across the Tibetan Plateau, I'm haunted both by what I saw on the mountain and by what I'm reading and hearing in the press. Sadly, none of it is new per se; it's feelings and sight and sounds and reactions I've […]

Bits of wire poking out of the rubble. Meaningless trash, yet a physical tether to our collective, inspiring past. I left this bit on an obvious rock. Hopefully someone will notice and dig out its past, it's story. And ours.

On May 1, 1999, my teammates and I discovered the remains of George Mallory high on Everest. Here, I reflect on that day twenty years later, once again on Mount Everest.