Every expedition begins with the same conversations.
Weather.
Timing.
Judgment.
They are discussed seriously, sometimes repeatedly, before we ever leave home.
No one argues with them at sea level.
But something changes above a certain height.
At altitude, desire becomes louder.
And when oxygen drops, pressure starts pretending to be purpose.
That is where summit fever stops being fuel and starts requiring wisdom.
This article is not about fear.
Not about playing safe.
Not about glorifying retreat.
It is about understanding when summit hunger is still clean and when it has been hijacked.
Summit Fever is Necessary
Let us be clear.
Without summit fever, nothing meaningful in the mountains would ever happen.
No one trains for years without obsession.
No one returns after failure without hunger.
No one tolerates uncertainty, discomfort, and loss without something burning inside.
Summit fever is not a flaw.
It is fuel.
Ambition is guided. Summit fever is raw.
Ambition plans.
Ambition respects preparation.
Ambition listens to forecasts.
Ambition understands seasons.
Summit fever is raw energy.
It pushes.
It urges.
It resists patience.
By itself, summit fever is neither good nor bad.
What matters is who is in control when decisions are made at altitude.
Awareness or pressure.
When awareness leads, summit fever creates progress.
When pressure leads, summit fever becomes dangerous.
How pressure hijacks hunger under uncertain conditions
Every expedition begins with a picture in the mind.
Good weather.
A clear summit day.
The national flag on top.
That one photograph that feels like the moment of a lifetime.
That dream is real.
As altitude increases, reality starts pushing back.
Weather turns unpredictable.
Temperatures stay negative around the clock.
Morning condensation freezes everything.
The touch of icicles is not a good moment.
Snow on bare skin is not poetic. It hurts.
Even on regular days, survival itself demands attention.
As conditions worsen, costs start adding fuel to the pressure.
Doubts appear quietly.
Why am I here?
What am I trying to prove?
Why am I tasting this tasteless snow?
Views that once felt exhilarating suddenly feel meaningless.
The mountain stops being cinematic and becomes very physical.
Then pressure points surface.
Commitments made at sea level.
Boastings spoken casually.
The imagined finish line.
The expectation of ultimate success.
The idea that this moment has to mean something.
Now comes the real test
The summit feels closer. Maybe a day away.
Fitness is no longer the problem.
This becomes a mind game.
The mountain tests judgment, not strength.
In these moments, the difference between a good decision and a bad one becomes very thin.
Sometimes a delay of twelve hours is the wisest choice.
Sometimes it saves a life.
By the time a climber is high on the mountain, costs are no longer abstract.
Money is spent.
Time is committed.
Work and family are adjusted.
Training has already demanded its price.
At this stage, pressure enters quietly.
Not as panic.
Not as recklessness.
But as justification.
You have already invested so much.
You may not get another chance.
It has to happen now.
This is not ambition speaking.
This is pressure using commitment as its voice.
And attachment is a poor decision maker at altitude.
When judgment erodes without warning
One of the most dangerous aspects of ego-driven summit fever is this.
Nothing feels wrong immediately.
Weather does not collapse all at once.
Fatigue does not announce itself loudly.
Judgment does not fail suddenly.
At altitude, bad decisions rarely appear as bad decisions.
They appear as reasonable extensions of effort.
Just a little more.
Let us see how it feels.
We are almost there.
This is not courage.
This is hunger operating without supervision.
Because one starts feeling invincible.
It can come from previous success.
It can feel like a test from a supernatural mountain.
Or it can simply be wise foolishness.
Walking down is not the opposite of ambition
This is where the misunderstanding usually begins.
Turning back is not the goal.
Walking down is not virtue.
Choice is the point.
The ability to walk down freely, without being forced by injury or rescue, is what preserves ambition over time.
Pressure removes choice.
Wisdom protects it.
Mountains do not reward urgency.
They reward judgment repeated over years.
Similar patterns have been discussed in research on decision-making under summit pressure, where commitment and expectation begin to override judgment at altitude.
My Summit on an 8000er
Some readers may assume these words come easily because I eventually stood on an 8000er summit.
It did not.
My summit on Manaslu did not arrive on the first attempt.
It did not arrive without abandonment.
It did not arrive without waiting or walking away.
There were times when weather decided.
Times when the body was not ready.
Times when finances did not allow another push.
Each decision to step back preserved something more important than that season’s result.
The ability to return.
That was not caution.
That was ambition with memory.
The real objective is continuity
Mountaineering is often described as a summit or a result.
But the deeper objective is harder to articulate.
To come back without a single scratch on the body.
With relationships intact.
With health preserved.
With a story shaped by patience, perseverance, and judgment.
Summits are moments.
Journeys are built over years.
Careers are not sustained by how hard we push once,
but by how wisely we protect our ability to keep going.
Photo Courtesy - Venky
Closing Statement
Summit fever should exist.
Without it, there is no progress.
But summit fever without wisdom is not ambition.
It is pressure wearing ambition’s language.
The bravest decision on a mountain is not always to go up.
Nor is it always to turn back.
It is to know clearly when to step forward and when to respect turnaround time.
Because ambition guided by awareness builds a lifetime in the mountains.
Anything else only borrows time from it.
