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.

Everest came down off Everest. It became, in a climbing sense, just another mountain to be approached and attempted within the context of our past experience in the Rockies, Tetons, or on Mount Rainier. Not quite, really. But much of the battle lay inside. That battle was nearly won.

As I work on my ballot this morning, I’m going to resist the temptation – a very real one – to take the easy road, the comfortable one, and vote a partisan line. Instead, I’ll do my best to digest all I’ve read and researched, to implement my values and vote with my heart, not my wallet; vote with my mind, not my party; vote for the future, not the short-term; vote with compassion for all rather than contempt for and fear of some.