"Writing it wasn't quite as hard as trying to climb McKinley, but didn't miss by much... " James M Tabor. I contacted James M Tabor through his website, and told him about my review and he was kind enough to write back. Here's my story. Every year for Father's Day, I buy a book for my father-in-law who lives in Anchorage. Actually, I used to buy two books, one for my own father, until he died a couple of years ago, so now I'm down to honoring Skip's dad. Last year, the Father's Day book was Deep Survival by Laurence Gonzales. If you haven't read it and you're heading up to Alaska for a nice summer outdoors, I'd recommend that as a particularly fascinating read. If you're planning to spend any time on the rivers, I'd also read the article by Craig Medred about the family that attempted to canoe through Class V Rapids on Sixmile Creek on the Kenai Peninsula in 2006. I've been reading Craig's work for years--he places a tremendous emphasis on self-reliance when you're in the wilderness. According to the International Grading System for Whitewater, Class V Rapids have whitewater, large waves, large rocks and hazards, maybe a large drop, precise maneuvering with a skill level requiring advanced whitewater experience. I respect this family for their openness about their experience--and credit them with saving other lives by sharing their story. Craig really tells the story. This year's Father's Day gift book is called Forever on the Mountain, by James M Tabor. It's non-fiction. It's just come out in paperback. A friend of mine went to a bookstore in Seattle to buy it yesterday and the clerk shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, we're kind of sold out. Almost, anyway," he said. "We've got one copy left in the building. It's either in Summer Reading or the Sports/Mountaineering section." So if you're going to buy a copy for your father (or even better, for yourself for the summer, better get one now) Tabor tells the incredibly gripping tale of a climbing expedition on Mt. McKinley in 1967. He has the knowledge and the authority to address the inevitable questions that arose when seven members of a combined 12 man expedition died. It doesn't matter that this happened more than 40 years ago. Tabor does a great job of examining the evidence and I couldn't put it down. So, I'm warning you--do not start reading this book at bedtime. You'll be up all night! It's too exciting.

Here are some of the issues. In 1967, there were no cell phones, so communication with the Parks Service and base camps and pilots was done by radio, which was not always the most efficient way to communicate. In 2008, if you run into trouble, you can use your cell phone to call for a search and recovery team (SAR).

The other issue was who was going to effect the rescue. In 1967, climbing groups relied on private pilots with some military assistance and they paid for rescue costs themselves. The costs continue to be a big issue--check out the link to a paper on McKinley Recovery Cost Analysis if you want to sink your teeth into it.

I always like a book with a twist. Don't worry, I'm not going to spoil it for you, but Tabor works in a twist to the whole story that left me thinking, oh, man, did that really happen?

By the way, I've never climbed the mountain and neither has Skip. We prefer to do our mountaineering from the safety of our armchairs. I did have a friend in the early 80s who did it who wound up in the burn unit at a hospital in Anchorage with pretty bad frostbite in his toes.

Anyway, Tabor gets a lot of things right. It's a gripping read. If you're flying up to Alaska to visit this summer, this would be one book that would keep you on the edge of your seat. Better yet, buy a copy for you buddies, so you can sit around debating what the expedition should have done. Tabor does a nice job of covering the options--for me, this was an even better book than the Krakauer book on the Everest--oops, Chomolungma--expedition in 97.

Which brings me to one minor point. Okay. It's considered politically correct to call Mt. McKinley by the name Denali, which is analogous to calling Mt. Everest Chomolungma or Sagarmatha. Which is okay. But historically, there were two or three mountains called Denali by the indigenous peoples. Most folks who grew up in Alaska call the park Denali and the mountain, McKinley. It's a minor point. If you went down the street in Anchorage and asked 9 out of 10 people what the name of the mountain was, they'd all say McKinley. If you went up to the mountain, the climbers would all be reverently calling it, Denali.

It's still The Mountain.