The poet William Blake wrote in the early nineteenth century: "Great things are done when men and mountains meet." Great things indeed were done on Mount Everest in May of 1996. Also poignant things, foolish things, deadly things: Hundreds of climbers from eleven different expeditions were on the mountain—thirty-one near the summit—when a freakish and fierce-some storm blew in. Eight climbers perished, the highest one-day death toll since the first expedition tried to reach the top of the world's tallest peak in 1921.
    Adventurers have always sought challenges: deeper jungles, wider oceans, newer worlds. But mountains have been special. Perhaps it's their size, their power, their resistance to conquest. In Patrick Meyers's play <em>K2</em>, a marooned climber on the Himalaya peak that gives the play its name delivers this line: "Mountains are metaphors." And so they are. Climbers search not just for summits but also for themselves. They reach up to reach in.
    That helps explain why Everest has been enveloped by "Mountain Madness", the name of a Seattle company that offers guided tours of the peak for about $65,000 (plus airfare to Nepal). New technology and equipment have also helped: lighter gear, warmer clothing, better radios and telephones, And the adventure can be shared, practically in real time, with Internet browsers around the world.
    But the community of high-mountain explorers now is gripped by soul-searching and second-guessing. Everest, after all, is not a theme peak. Some of the dead were experienced guides who lost their lives trying to save less agile amateurs. Said Mark Bryant, editor of <em>Outside Magazine</em>: Some of us have been asking: "Is it right that an average climber can order an ascent of Everest out of a catalog?" An Australian mountaineer, Tim McCartney-Snape, told the Associated Press: "Some things should remain sacred, and Everest is one of them. Even the strongest and toughest have found it can be extremely difficult just existing at that altitude, without other people depending on you."
    On Everest, dependency can lead to heroism and to tragedy, One frostbitten amateur, Seaborne Weathers of Dallas, was plucked from a rocky ledge at 22,000 feet by a Nepalese army helicopter—an act of incredible bravery. And Rob Hall, a guide who had climbed Everest several times, stayed on its slops with a dying customer. After learning they were hopelessly trapped, Hall managed to place a satellite telephone call to his pregnant wife, Jan, in New Zealand. "Hey, look," he told her, "don't worry about me." At that moment, Hall remembered Harold, the character in K2 who muses: "Understanding has no meaning, Holding on, just holding on, that has meaning." Like Harold, he knew the mountain was still a mountain. Still a goal. Still a dream. And he couldn't hold on. Rob Hall died before rescuers could reach him.  Which of the following statements best describes the author's point of view?