By the time Jesse Easterling stumbled into the Mount Everest emergency clinic, he was nearly incoherent. It was a chilly afternoon at Base Camp, May 17, 2009—two days before the beginning of summit season, when a clear weather window would send hundreds of climbers scurrying up the south side of the peak. Easterling, a stocky 27-year-old insurance salesman from Seattle, entered the clinic—a simple tent staffed by two doctors—wearing a T-shirt and talking gibberish.
“What’s your name?” asked Dr. Torrey Goodman, 53, an altitude specialist from Hawaii in her first season working on the mountain. Easterling mumbled something. She asked again. “What’s your name?” More gibberish; he couldn’t stop fidgeting.
......Dare you to stop reading. This is from a fascinating story in the new Outside magazine about doping and mountain climbing.
Note: The entire opening scene is recreated. The reporter wasn't there for that. He had to go back and find out about this event that happened in 2009. Think about all the people he had to talk to. All the details he had to get just right to allow him to do that.
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