This is a trilogy about three separate epic climbs. Climbs that are difficult enough by themselves, but were made more grueling by the common thread of life-threatening heat. The insidious sun sucking energy, water, and even your willpower from a well-conditioned man made the hard climbs a more arduous task. Included in these stories are many other true-to-life adventures and narrow escapes for the author. Three Days of the Condor talks about camaraderie and the accomplishment of doing something difficult that few could accomplish. According to Jeff Lowe, "There is a certain purity in engaging in what some would call a useless activity. When the climber confronts the overhang, he does so with the knowledge that no material gain will result from the competition of the task. He is confident that when he is done, the satisfaction will outweigh the effort." I have always returned to the mountains for introspection. It must be at least partially genetic for man to seek the "high ground," for protection, exploration, or an attempt at communion with a higher power. Occasionally, the only reason is "because it's there," but even Mallory expanded on this when he explained, "It is the struggle of life itself, forever upward. What we get from this adventure is sheer joy." But if we can look down on ourselves from above, from the proverbial mountaintop, often we may be more objective--if not more rational. The ensuing vignettes recount the pursuit of my pilgrimage, my coming-of-age. It seemed like my endeavor for the exceptional view, and my own independence--truly a phenomenal golden period in my life. I learned how I felt about my own survival when on many of those summits. In these stories I strive to return to those times and mountains, in search of truth on the rocky temples. This is the visionary perspective I seek. These accounts of rock climbing are more than about climbing rocks--it is about that one thing in life that truly sets you free.