COOPER SPUR, ORE. — One glorious day in June, Kelly James and Brian Hall, two longtime climbing partners from Dallas, were scaling Mt. Rainier, the tallest peak in the Cascades, when they met a man from Brooklyn, Jerry "Nikko" Cooke, who was in another group on its way up the mountain.
The three perhaps did not share much in the way of professional interests: Cooke was a lawyer, James was a landscape architect, and Hall was a former pro soccer player who this year had been named the best personal trainer in town by the Dallas Voice, a newspaper for the city's gays and lesbians.
But the men did find a bond as fellow Christians, and they shared a passion for mountaineering -- not just the thrill of attaining a peak, but the meticulous planning that goes into a successful hike to the top of a major mountain.
The poring over maps. The endless discussions over what food to bring along: At the end of a long day above 10,000 feet, freeze-dried chicken and mushrooms with ramen, mixed with snow and brought to a boil on a tiny Sterno stove, can taste better than dinner at the Ritz.
And, family members recalled, they were, like true mountaineers, obsessed with gear -- from the tips of their crampons to the tops of their perspiration-wicking caps. A high-altitude climb requires minute attention to such things, and, like many climbers, the three friends spent weeks before a hike packing and repacking the gear, trying to include everything they might need -- but not one ounce more.
It was these three men who spent months e-mailing each other about an ambitious but hardly unprecedented goal, according to Kelly James' brother, Frank: climbing Oregon's tallest peak, Mt. Hood, in near-winter conditions.
And so, they set out on the Tilly Jane trailhead near here Dec. 8, after spending the night in a warming hut and leaving a note about their plans at the ranger station.
"We are party of 3 attempting N. Face," one of the men wrote.
They made it -- an impressive accomplishment, and one the men hoped to use as both training and credential for even more ambitious hikes in the future -- in Alaska and the Andes, perhaps even up Mt. Everest.
But then, shortly afterward, something went terribly wrong.
As authorities try to piece together this mountaineering disaster, family members have gathered to give each other strength in the face of death and mystery.
