They climb sheer vertical cliffs and take routes that can require them to climb upside-down, under and over overhanging shelves of ice and rock. For the night, they find ledges of rock or anchor a rigid-floor tent that hangs on the side of the cliff, thousands of feet above ground level. Lowe climbed year-round because "each season offers different challenges."

All this notwithstanding, Lowe is no risk taker or a death-defying acrobat. He passed up chances to skydive, and when many of his climbing buddies took up paragliding for a time, he passed on that, too, calling it "too risky." He's equally cautious behind the wheel. Lowe's girlfriend chastises him because he drives so slowly that he tends to back up traffic.

"I'm not a big adrenaline junkie," he says. "If you get that, it means things are out of control. I try to avoid that. I hate big shots of adrenaline. It means you don't have enough margin. That's why I didn't kill myself in 40 years of hard-core climbing. I know there are people who think adrenaline is a big part of it. For me, it was finding out what I could do safely."

Before setting foot on the mountain, he researched his climbs meticulously, studying aerial photos and reports, talking to those who were familiar with the area and making on-site observations through binoculars to select a route to the top and formulate a game plan.

"Sometimes I spent more time planning a climb than doing it," he says.

Instead of adrenaline, Lowe sought the aesthetics of climbing — the beauty and solitude of his surroundings, the physical and mental challenges of technical climbing and self-discovery.

"It forces a concentration that leads you inward, so that you're actually tapping into who you are physically and mentally and emotionally," he says. "It's hard to do when there's nothing pushing you. It's hard to get that focused. I am doing meditation now, but it's not the same thing. As a place of self-knowledge, you get to that as a climber."

Return to Ogden

Lowe returned to Ogden a few years ago to be with his ailing mom. It was about this time that his own illness began to manifest itself, although he didn't recognize it immediately for what it was. It not only took its toll on his body but on his marriage as well.

"It was not my ex's fault," he says. "The marriage problems might have some things to do with the MS and financial problems. I wasn't that pleasant. I didn't really understand that verbal abuse — yelling — is just as bad as physical abuse. It was my decline, and me being very frustrated, and her not being able to deal with that. I wasn't extremely abusive, but she was someone who wouldn't stand for any of that, and she shouldn't."