"I just read an article in “Ascent" magazine written by our David Roberts. In the article he says:
“In July 2015, six weeks after my 72nd birthday, I was diagnosed with throat cancer. By the time the doctors detected it, the cancer was fairly extensive - stage 4. At once I began an aggressive regime of chemotherapy and radiation. Though the treatment was painless it steadily took its toll on my body. In May, before the diagnosis, I had rock climbed happily with a gang of friends new St. George, Utah. By October, I could barely walk a block, having to stop and rest every 50 yards.
"He goes on to write about his relationship with his climbing partner, Don Jensen, and their climb of Deborah, but towards the end of the article he returns to his health saying:
“In 2016, I have a strong belief that I will survive the cancer that ravaged my throat and neck. Yet even if I do, the end cannot be all that far off………………………….I miss the charmed state the Don and I shared at 21, when the world seemed to lie all before us. However ephemeral if proved, the bond that linked us made its founding credo self-evident - that not only was climbing the most important thing in life, it was worth more than all else combined. That state of grace was like first love; a glimpse of a forbidden paradise. Now, in the purported wisdom of my eighth decade, I can dismiss our invincible destiny as a youthful fantasy. But I also know that nothing else ever came along to fill the void it left behind.”
End of article. I am stunned - especially since the article sat on my desk unread for at least two months. Carpe Diem, my dear friends."