What worries you about getting older?

One by one the more vigorous sports and exacting games fall away. Exceptional exertions are purchased only by a more pronounced and more prolonged fatigue. Muscles may relax, and feet and hands slow down; the nerve of youth and manhood may become less trusty. But painting is a friend who makes no undue demands, excites to no exhausting pursuits, keeps faithful pace even with feeble steps, and holds her canvas as a screen between us and the envious eyes of Time or the surly advance of Decrepitude. Happy are the painters, for they shall not be lonely.

I don't want to be called a senior citizen, I feel like a spring colt. I don't want to be called a has-been, because there's things I want to do in life. But, I've been there and I'd say, "Don't let the bastards get you down." And they don't anymore, I don't talk to them anymore, so they don't get me down. I've got my family, and I've got so many blessings that I don't think I've earned, that I'm a very happy man.

Am I enjoying it too much to find out?

Every time I play tennis I come back with a fresh injury.

I’ve been very fortunate in that respect. In the early days I liked to be the bomb of the expedition, and rush on ahead and do things faster than anybody else. Those days merged very pleasantly into periods when I organized and inspired expeditions and selected these younger people who were then the bombs of the operation. And then it drifted into this involvement with the people of the area, still loving the mountains, but finding the people just as important too. And on and on it’s gone. As I get older and less physically capable, I find other challenges have grown up and become just as important to me.