It was a difficult pregnancy. There were complications. She was told to stay in bed or she would lose me. She did, but my father was on the move, teaching seminars, endorsing equipment, and climbing—shattering records on Mount Kilimanjaro, Mount McKinley, and Annapurna, which is where he was the night I was born. He called her from Base Camp on a satellite phone after reaching the summit. “What do you want to name him?” Mom asked. “Peak.” “Pete?” “No, Peak. P-E-A-K. Like ‘mountain peak.’” He didn’t lay eyes on me until I was three months old,
