Climbing mountains is risky—even, perhaps, reckless and selfish. But it’s easy to understand the draw if you’ve ever witnessed the majesty of a snow-capped peak against a clear blue sky. It’s only human to want to get close to that breathtaking, seeming mirage and confirm its cracks and crevices, to conquer it and view the world from its pedestal. After all, seeing is believing, right?
But then, how to explain Erik Weihenmayer’s motivation? He felt compelled to conquer the Seven Summits (the highest peaks on each of the seven continents), including Everest, without seeing any of them, ever. Weihenmayer was blinded by a degenerative eye disorder at the age of 13.
As one of only about 100 climbers in history to summit all seven peaks, Weihenmayer’s story is an inspiration for the blind and sighted alike. So like any hero, Weihenmayer has published his memoirs, graced the cover of Time magazine, appeared on Oprah, and had a TV movie made of his life. He tours the country showing video footage of his climbs and giving motivational presentations, which is what he’ll be doing at a benefit for Recording for the Blind and Dyslexic at the Martin Luther King Jr. Performing Arts Center September 27.
Weihenmayer tells C-VILLE, however, that while he enjoys being a source of encouragement, he’d really be happier if blind people’s accomplishments weren’t seen as inspirational at all. If expectations were higher, he says, the unemployment rate of the blind in this country might not be 70 percent.
So if not to inspire, why would anyone with Weihenmayer’s condition risk life, limb and lung for the thrill of standing on a mountain? “Because I couldn’t play baseball anymore,” he says. After losing his sight, ball sports were out, so Weihenmayer fell in love with rock climbing during his time at a camp for blind kids. He can’t behold the view or see where to dig in his crampons, so he relies on other sensory perception—“the texture and hotness or coldness of the rock or ice, the sound of space”—as well as a devoted team of climbing partners to guide him.
Weihenmayer doesn’t see himself as a crazy risk-taker. In fact, he sees himself as “methodical” and “pretty conservative.” Although he admits his climbing escapades involve risk, so do many things in life, he says. But, “with the right planning and systems in place, you can make something that appears crazy to others become manageable.”
And really, for a blind person, just walking across the street can be risky. Weihenmayer’s message is to face those risks head on and defy expectations: “Adversity will either crush you, or you can take the energy that’s created, like a storm, and use it to propel you forward.”
We suggest you get yourself a good dose of Weihenmayer’s brand of encouragement. Perhaps then, like Weihenmayer, you’ll realize that the sky (or at least 29,028 feet closer to it) is the limit.
“Adversity will either crush you, or you can take the energy that’s created, like a storm, and use it to propel you forward.”
