David was the kindest, the most trusting man one could ever hope to meet. He loved mountains like youth who loves his object of affection not knowing of a reason. A love usually does not have a reason, for if there was reason there would be no love. And David was such a man, torn apart by his loves of the mountains and of his family.
Especially in the last months, he was completely consumed with his trips.
We were together on Mount Raineer, just returning from Cowlitz glacier to Camp Muir. There was a blizzard. The hurricane wind almost blew us off our legs. It took us an hour to gather our tent in the camp and to go to one of the refuge cabins. David wanted to get down and drive home after eating and packing up. I wanted to stay a little longer till night to make sure the storm dies out completely. We started to argue, and then he said: "Why do you climb the mountains?" "I don't know, David."