Into thin air

Just finished reading Jon Krakauer's Into Thin Air, in Finnish no less (an English copy was harder to find). Uh-uh. The old question "how many angels can fit on the head of the pin" immediately came into my mind in the form of "how many crazy fuckers can fit on top of Everest".

The book is about the spring 1996 season on Everest, and most of the people in it are not particularly sensible. I sort of understand the desire to climb a big mountain just because it's there, but these people's lack of any self-preservation instinct is unbelievable. OTOH, the people with well-developed self-preservation instinct probably don't go climbing Everest.

I started reading the book from the end and (or because?) I was afraid that Krakauer would end it with something like "even though a lot of people died or froze their asses off and everything sucked, it was really worth it", but in fact he didn't. Interesting that Krakauer, who actually reached the top of the mountain, got back and did not lose any body parts in the process, thinks that the price was too high, while people who lost their hands and noses apparently thought it was worth it. Makes me feel like playing an analyst, but I'll abstain.

I like mountains very much, in fact. The kind where a little cogwheel train brings you to the altitude of 3000 meters and then you walk around and take pictures. I even understand climbing something like Matterhorn (4478 m) as a hobby, even though it is not my cup of tea. But what the fuck posesses people to climb somewhere where they need extra oxygen to breathe and are constantly in danger of freezing all the protruding parts off?

I'd love to see Everest, BTW. From no higher than 4000 meters. Or alternatively from a plane.

Alps are nice from a plane, too. Booking plane tickets that fly through Switzerland is quite rewarding, especially if you get a window seat.