We stopped for the night outside a tiny village. Sun-jo and I started to help set up camp, but Zopa waved us off. “You two go climb.” He pointed to a wall about a quarter mile away. “Don’t fall. Come down before dark.” He didn’t have to tell us twice. We jogged over to the wall. It wasn’t a difficult climb, but about halfway up I had to stop to rest and catch my breath. Sun-jo, who had picked a more difficult route, scrambled up the rock like a lizard, smiling as he climbed past, which taught me a couple of things about him. He had much better lung capacity than me—and he was competitive.
