Jon Krakauer at home

What's new
He's just finished a non-fiction tome, Into the Wild, about Chris McCandless, the 22-year-old Emory University graduate who sought enlightenment and liberation in the Alaskan wilderness and found death. Krakauer says he is temporarily burned-out on writing. To liven things up, he's planning his first attempt of Mount Everest to report on high-altitude mountaineering in the modern age, "where rich yuppies pay $65,000 to be guided to the top of the world's highest mountain."

In his own words
"Everest has become the ultimate trophy for the wealthy overachiever. What used to be the ultimate goal in mountaineering has been transformed into just another yuppie achievement."

Bio
Born in Brookline, Massachusetts, in 1954, but moved to Corvallis, Oregon, when he was 2. At age 8, his father introduced him to the Northwest volcanoes and Smith Rocks back when this current climbing mecca was just a "trash heap." Krakauer never considered writing as a career until 1974, when a climbing magazine asked him to recount a first ascent in Alaska. He got more assignments, but had to supplement his meager literary income with work as a carpenter and fisherman. He started with Outside in 1980 and was able to quit fishing and building houses three years later. He is 42 years old and lives in Seattle with his wife of 15 years.

His climbing résumé features numerous first ascents, many of them solo, including a new route up Alaska's Mooses Tooth and Devils Thumb, and what Summit magazine described as an "audacious" route up the west face of Patagonia's Cerro Torre in 1992. As a writer, he's a regular with Outside magazine, has appeared in National Geographic, Rolling Stone, and Playboy, and has written several books, including the 1990 Eiger Dreams.

First impressions
Slender and dark-haired, with a trim beard and intense eyes. He's opinionated, articulate, darkly witty, with a tendency toward cynicism and humorous self-deprecation. He lacks the bravado typical of many successful climbers. Likewise, he enjoys talking about writing and writers--especially outdoor writing, which he regards as an improving, but still largely unperfected, genre--but is extremely modest about his own literary achievements and motivations.

THE DEEP SIX
Who do you do it for?
"Writing is the least onerous way I've discovered of making a living, but it's plenty onerous just the same, and I have no idea why I climb. Self-knowledge like that is virtually impossible. It's deep down there; you'd probably have to psychoanalyze me to know.

"I'm always dancing around this [in my writing]; you have to come at it obliquely, hint at it, poke at it, but there is no way you can just say, 'I climb because I was toilet-trained too young.' Why a person climbs just can't be divorced from the most basic components of their personality. That's what makes [climbing] so interesting to write about--it's so complex and baffling. You can spend a lifetime trying to figure it out."

How will you top yourself?
"There's a huge amount of room for improvement in my writing. I want to write a book that makes people say 'That's a fucking great book,' like I do when I read someone like Updike. That would be pretty cool. Probably never happen, but it's something to shoot for."

What's your current focus?
"This latest book is one of the few things I've actually enjoyed writing. I would like to write more books and fewer magazine articles, so my focus is to come up with another book idea. [As for climbing], I have no burning ambition. I'm probably better [at rock climbing] than I ever was, not through any natural ability, but because I've finally taken the time to learn some of the new techniques--techniques that none of us oldsters ever considered. How could we have been so stupid; how come we didn't think of training or techniques?"

What makes you angry?
"Other than the obvious, like Newt Gingrich? Newt makes me angry, and self-righteous religious fanatics. I don't know. I do get put off by [climbers] who toot their own horns too loudly--put off but also amused by it. There's something arresting about such a raw display of ego. It's sort of horrible and interesting and pathetic at the same time."

Who are your heroes?
"Michael Daube--he's a starving New York artist who found this David Hockney drawing in a dumpster, sold it for $20,000, and the first thing he thinks to do with the money is to go to one of the poorest provinces in India and build a hospital. The guy's 30 years old. One of these selfless, devoted people who channel their ambition into altruistic behavior. Puts most of the rest of us to shame. I also admire [Outside contributor] David Quammen, who gives lie to the maxim that to be a great writer, you have to be an asshole."

What scares you most?
"Becoming a hack writer. Losing my health. I've abused my body pretty seriously, and I'm getting prematurely creaky and arthritic, and that kind of worries me."