I've always been interested in working with top athletes, athletes who are pushing the edge and are really progressive in the outdoor space and adventure world.
You learn over years of expeditions that having faith, and putting one foot in front of the other, you do end up pulling off climbs that seem completely impossible. There's a certain beauty to that. It has an allure.
You do wonder - when you are at 28,000 feet, the height that aeroplanes cruise at, when you are struggling to draw breath and every limb aches - why do I do this?
The two great risks are risking too much but also risking too little. That's for each person to decide. For me, not risking anything is worse than death. By far.
When you're climbing something as challenging as Meru, it's all about efficiency. Even a decision as small as what to eat for dinner would expend energy you need for making other, more dramatic decisions.
There's intense personal gratification in finding a mountain and becoming inspired by the aesthetics of an unclimbed line on that mountain, especially if that line has been tried by a lot of people who couldn't do it, and you get to set yourself up against the history of it.
The way we approached Meru, and the way we approach a lot of these mountains, is with humility. A sense of, 'Is it going to give us passage?' Your mental attitude can affect the outcome.
You can show up at Everest having never really climbed before, because it's like hiking, basically. You can't show up on Meru and start up the thing unless you have years and years of experience. Climbing and spending time on the mountains is really the only way you can train.
It's hard to take people seriously who say you're totally irresponsible if you go out and climb mountains when you have kids, because they clearly don't understand the circumstances. You can't impose your own acceptance of risk on other people - that's not fair.
I've tried to eat little shrubs before. We were on an unsupported 20-plus day traverse, following the migration of endangered antelope across the Chang Tang Plateau. We were like, 'Oh, this is what they ate; we should try it.'
Mentorship is an incredibly huge responsibility. And you need to choose your mentors carefully, just like mentors choose their apprentices carefully. There has to be trust there, on a very deep level.
I won't ski in the backcountry the day after a big storm anymore. The mountains are so humbling. As soon as you think you're on top or crushing it, that's when you need to be really careful.
I used to always judge other people's mistakes in the mountains. I think a bit differently now. Everybody's gotten away with a mistake or poor decision out there at one point or another, but sometimes it catches up to you, or sometimes you're just plain unlucky.
I try to live intentionally, and the things that move me, I'm going to throw myself at them. I want to see what my potential is. I'm always curious to see what the edge is.
I truly believe the intention of creating positive change is so important to the collective consciousness. When you have a group of people that have the intention and the capacity, talent, and intelligence to actualize those intentions, then you have something really powerful.
I think being a good dad is on the list of things to do. But, I will always ski, climb, surf, and be out in the mountains and oceans. It's who I am. My goal is to just keep doing it all and enjoying it.
I loved going to the Chiang Kai Shek Memorial in Taipei to watch all the old Chinese people doing tai chi and practicing kung fu. The monument was made of white marble, and it was beautiful. Sometimes my dad and I would practice with them.
I lose anywhere up to 20 pounds on location with adventurers like Conrad Anker or Brady Robinson. So I need to replace that lost weight and muscle by training hard when I am back in the States between jobs. And as I get older, it is far more important for me to be doing this and taking my conditioning seriously.
I grew up studying martial arts, playing violin, swimming competitively, so I already had athletic focus, discipline and training. When I brought that to climbing, I became passionate.
I feel like I'm doing what I love. If I can get out, shoot, film and climb, and be with my friends and family, I'm happy. It doesn't take a lot. I don't need to climb huge mountains. I have a deep connection with wilderness and the environment, and I'm thankful for that.