But Now That I Was Finally Here,

To The Contrary: His Life Hummed With Meaning And Purpose. But The Meaning He Wrested From Existence Lay Beyond The Comfortable Path: Mccandless Distrusted The Value Of Things That Came Easily.

It Is Easy, When You Are Young, To Believe That What You Desire Is No Less Than What You Deserve, To Assume That If You Want Something Badly Enough, It Is Your God-given Right To Have It.

Above The Comforts Of Base Camp, The Expedition In Fact Became An Almost Calvinistic Undertaking. The Ratio Of Misery To Pleasure Was Greater By An Order Of Magnitude Than Any Mountain I'd Been On; I Quickly Came To Understand That Climbing Everest Was Primarily About Enduring Pain. And In Subjecting Ourselves To Week After Week Of Toil, Tedium And Suffering, It Struck Me That Most Of Us Were Probably Seeking Above All Else, Something Like A State Of Grace.

<...> Though He Found That If You Are Stupid Enough To Bury A Camera Underground You Won't Be Taking Many Pictures With It Afterwards. Thus The Story Has No Picture Book For The Period May 10, 1991 - January 7, 1992. But This Is Not Important. It Is The Experiences, The Memories, The Great Triumphant Joy Of Living To The Fullest Extent In Which Real Meaning Is Found. God It's Great To Be Alive! Thank You. Thank You.

The Sad End He Met In Afghanistan Was More Accurately A Function Of His Stubborn Idealism - His Insistence On Trying To Do The Right Thing. In Which Case It Wasn't A Tragic Flaw That Brought Tillman Down, But A Tragic Virtue.