Recently I went for a little trip and surrounded by towering peaks, all of them filling me with inspiration, tracing lines up their faces, sometimes just sitting back and enjoying their mass I wondered this same thing.

I definitely don't think Everest is the Ultimate Dream: Is climbing Mount Everest a common goal for rock climbers? In my experience even the average hiker doesn't think too much of Everest. Climbers think it's a total farce. So I disagree, I think Everest is not, and in my opinion definitely should not be the ultimate dream.

I consider myself a mountaineer, but my ambitions are based on routes that I like the look of, and that I think would be most fun, not to conquer them. I confess, I am taken with the 11,000ers of the Canadian Rockies, but nearly all of them are great climbs worth doing for their aesthetic alone.

As for why they inspire? I think it's the sheer mass. So rarely do you get to gaze upon that much variety of terrain. Much like a fire, or waterfall that never appears the same twice, the huge expanse of mountains gives us so much to gaze upon. That and I think there is something about largest that gives mountains a more impressive hold on us. How can we not be inspired by looking at something so utterly massive. We hold big buildings, large vehicles and structures of all sorts in esteem and fascination for their largess, but none come close to mountains.

Mt Joffre, AB

And humans as we are naturally bent towards curiosity. We desire to peer from the top, to explore, and the need to challenge ourselves follows soon after.

I'll leave you with one of my favourite quotes by Reinhold Messner:

"I have been accused of going to the mountains to show what a big man I am. The reality is I go to be reminded just how small and insignificant I am."

More specifically here is a rundown of my feelings on a trip to Mt. Joffre AB in 2015

Passing Foch Lake on our way into the campsite. Beautiful alpine views like this and breathtaking scenery just make me feel good in a deep way. I feel at peace in places like these.

The first look at the objective. The white hulk behind the left-most dark tower is Mt. Joffre. Looking up at the face always fills me with a sense of foreboding. I get my first of many "Do I really need to do this" moments. It's scary no doubt. And herein lies one of my favourite things about mountaineering. Pushing myself to a new level of possibility. There is something remarkable about finding and testing your limits. It's taking the human experience to a rare place, something rarely done willingly.

Another one of my favourite things. Base camp time. Sitting back in a beautiful place surrounded by inspiration. Relaxed, but with the little element of stress at the back of your mind, that tomorrow you are going to really push yourself.

We've already been hiking up fields of boulders and rock for 1.5 hours at this stage, and have hopped onto the glacier. We are nearly at our crux as the sun begins to rise. The whole sky goes red, purple and orange. It's spectacular. Your whole body just feels euphoric. You are in the most incredible place on the planet in that moment. Nobody is as lucky as you are. You feel so small, but so privileged at the same time. It's overwhelming, and incredibly powerful. And it never gets old.

We've just completed the crux and are having a brief rest. This is my partner on the summit ridge. It's a fairly easy walk to the summit from here. We are definitely in a high spirits here, despite winds gusting up to 50km/h. It's incredibly uncomfortable, and there is a element of "Sod this, I just want to go back to the tent and drink tea", but you know that the summit has something magical in store for you. The turnaround point is in sight.

We did it! We got to the top! It's really hard to keep your composure and recall that you've still got to get down in one piece. The actual summit is behind us. It was a short series of blocks about a foot and half wide, that we took turns walking out onto, roped up.

The feeling of summiting is incredible. It's like any other big goal accomplished. I've run some 10ks and the like, and the best I can compare it to is finishing with a good time. Except better.

And the views are always so incredibly overpowering. A tremendous reward for a job well done.

On our way back to the Crux. It begins just where the trail dispears around the corner. It was a 60- 75 degree gully of hard frozen snow, that led up to a very short step of ice, followed by a sketchy traverse on mostly frozen scree. While the angle was relatively easy (45-55 degrees), there was only a 15-25cm of frozen snow, and exposed scree (gravel like loose rock). The footing was precarious, and no placement was ideal. Careful movement was essential. There was some slab snow that felt like with the sun it could be a avalanche risk. You are thinking all this as you delicately move your feet, with sharp crampons onto loose rocks, testing each step. The snow was too shallow, and the scree to hard to place any protection (pieces to protect a fall). Fifteen meters bellow us is a sixty metre cliff. On the loose rock your chances of arresting a slip would be next to nothing. If you screw up you are gone. It's daunting for sure.

In this photo my partner is moving his way back to the crux. It was the best way done this mountain as the other option was unknown to us. Better the devil you know, then the devil you don't, especially where glaciers are concerned. We were stressed about this as there was no way to place any protection to allow a rappel down the most serious section. The other challenge was the sun had moved to our side of the mountain, and gully features are dangerous as they funnel falling rock and ice. We had to move fast, but safely.

In these moments I am of two minds, I wish I was anywhere else but here. It's scary, and the loose rock is an objective hazard that has to be contended with. But at the same time, I feel so alive, as I compete with the mountain for control of my fate. I don't pretend I enjoy these moments, but I go looking for them.

Why?

Because of this moment. We are off the glacier. All the real danger has passed. We can let our guard down, and relax. Have a drink. Have a snack. And it tastes better than anything normally does. The sense of accomplishment, the sense of completion.

And in this moment the world just melts away. You feel so free, and so beyond anything. When I first started climbing I felt invincible in these moments. Now I just feel elevated. Floating on a high of being alive, being safe. I feel alive in a way I don't think people regularly get to feel.

Being unsafe, makes being safe once more feel so much more powerful. All things are relative, we just rarely get to experience that.

This is from the walk back as the sunset. We had been moving continuously for nearly 15 hours at this stage. Despite the aching feet, sore shoulders, tense knees, you get moments to look out over a calm lake and be blow away all over again. Another reminder of your incredible journey.

Here is what the day looked like in statistics

http://www.movescount.com/moves/move77584930

(The lines nearer to the summit, are not very accurate.)