Stand at the base and look up at 3,000 feet of blankness. It just looks like there's no way you can climb it. That's what you seek as a climber. You want to find something that looks absurd and figure out how to do it.

Once you climb to another level, you have to figure out how to sustain it.

I tend to pick objectives that I feel are safe because I know that, in the moment, I always go for it. I have some rules for myself, though: Look for the rock faces without a lot of loose rock. Always rope up on glaciers where there is even a slight chance of falling into a crevasse. No pure free soloing. Never climb below hanging glaciers.

For me, I love to dream big, and I love to find ways to be a bit of an explorer. These days, it seems like everything is padded and comes with warning labels.

In some ways, climbing in the clouds is comforting. You can no longer see how high off the ground you are.

When you look at it that way, you can see how absurd it is that we individualize ourselves with our fences and hoarded possessions.