I pulled the car to the side of the road and gaped. A few miles later I did it again, and then again every few miles thereafter. Thrusting out of the ground north of Banff, Alberta, were the most magnificent mountains I’d seen since the Alps. To a climber, driving from Banff to Jasper is like watching a great parade go by and knowing you can jump on any of the floats, each of which is an adventurous world of its own. Glaciers plunge over multi-thousand-foot cliffs, while huge ice faces reflect the morning sun. On the seat beside me lay an open copy of Chris Jones’ masterpiece, Climbing in North America. Chris brings to life the pioneering climbers and the places they discovered and transformed; his book had become my bible during my tumble into climbing obsession. And of all the stories in this book, the ones that grabbed me hardest took place in the mountains right alongside this road. To a mountaineer, this drive is so much more than pretty scenery. (First paragraph of Chapter 14, The Eiger Obsession.)