A Life Less Ordinary

My first impression of John Mislow on a flight from Houston to Quito was of a stereotypical loud, obnoxious, American - the sort that I am usually keen to avoid. But who should I end up beside in the queue, waiting for the last taxi from the airport into town?

On the journey we discovered that we were in Ecuador to do the same thing - climb volcanoes. I had a vague ambition to climb Cotopaxi - reputedly the highest active volcano in the world - and a beautiful mountain with it. John had a detailed plan, including a series of acclimatization climbs, Cotopaxi and Chimborazo - the summit of which is the furthest point on the earths surface from the centre of the earth (due to equatorial bulge).

And so despite my initial misgivings we hooked up to share transport and guiding costs. Over the next three weeks, we climbed, travelled, ate, got sick, drank and laughed together. We shared mountain huts, interminable scree slopes, awe-inspiring dawns, steep snow and ice, and a rope to the summit of Cotopaxi, John 'dragging my sorry ass' (as he called it) to the top when I lost the will to go any further.

I'd achieved my ambition, but John had bigger plans, and had caught the high altitude bug. He went on to do Chimborazo (and had a great story about just how appropriately named the 'Whymper Summit' is), and we met up again back in Quito before he headed back to the states and I continued south. He was still a loud, occasionally obnoxious American, but he was now also my mate 'Mislow'.

In the 12 years since we kept in touch - he sent one of his best friends to climb with me in New Zealand and Scotland, and I followed his adventures vicariously - an attempt on Denali, and then a successful summit of Everest. In between getting married, having two boys and becoming a neuro-surgeon.

I stayed in his home in Chicago on the way back from NZ, and haven't seen him since, but he is one of those friends that you know you could just meet up with at any time in the next 50 years and pick up just where you left off.

Except I won't be seeing John again. I've been digging out these old slides for his memorial service. He died last week along with his climbing partner while making a second attempt on Denali via the West Rib.

Cheers Mislow.