Anyone who has ever climbed a mountain knows the exhilaration and accomplishment experienced at the top. Ardent “peak baggers” thrive on accumulating summit conquests, whether by trail, technical or trekking ascents. Climbing often becomes an addictive passion. Why climb Everest? To quote George L. Mallory, “Because it is there.”
The Himalayas still hold rank as an ultimate mountaineering arena, despite mounting concerns over excessive use and habitat destruction. In 2017, alpinist and travel writer Paolo Cognetti returned to Nepal not to conquer those mountains, but to savor a journey through the high valleys of the adjacent Dolpo region. He was inspired to follow the route unveiled in Peter Matthiessen’s 1978 classic, The Snow Leopard, a copy tucked in his pack.
Cognetti desired to reconnect with his own mountain roots and to get to know and share the Dolpo people, customs, flora, fauna, personality and spirituality on his journey. The book is a heartfelt and lyrical portrait of his trek through this remote region.
A pungent grass grew between the thin streams, a moss where the water stagnated and edelweiss bloomed. This was also the altitude for chamois and ibex and bharal (blue Himalayan sheep). I spent whole summers living among the high mountain pastures in the Alps … I felt at home in the deep green of the Himalayan pinewoods and the gentle and jagged shapes of the peaks.
He was accompanied by his Italian childhood friend, Remigio. Also, local native, Lakba, was a valuable guide. A delightful addition to Cognetti’s narrative is the friendship they made with a stray dog on their trek christened “Kanjiroba.” The little black dog accompanied them most of the journey, finally going her independent way at the trek’s end in Kagbeni.
Without Ever Reaching the Summit celebrates the basic truth that life fulfillment is discovered more in the infinite highs and lows of making the journey, rather than in realizing a finite destination.
It also reminds us to accept limitations and struggles for personal peace and satisfaction. Mountaineering could have remained Cognetti’s childhood dream, but he writes:
I never could have become an accomplished mountaineer. As a young boy, I soon discovered that I was susceptible to altitude sickness. My stomach was a merciless altimeter. It would start to turn on me after three thousand meters and torment me to the summit … so all the beauty of those mountains was lost on me. For years I returned, hoping that at a certain point the sickness would pass. But it didn’t … I learned that it would disappear if I descended. This became part of my going to the mountains … there were always meadows and woods to welcome me gladly. The valleys began to interest me more than the peaks, the inhabitants more than the climbers. I remembered that the most important Tibetan pilgrimage consists of going to the mountain … Buddhists circle around the base of the mountains embracing and honoring that experience.
Without touching the top? Worth it, indeed.
