Most of them caused their own demise -- took a tiny misstep and fell a thousand feet into oblivion.
Some lost focus because of oxygen deprivation and didn't hammer their pitons into the rock or ice deep enough and the pitons pulled out sending a whole team cartwheeling down a jagged rock face to be chewed up as if in a meat grinder.
Others didn't notice avalanche conditions because of exhaustion and disappeared into a thick wall of white.
A few just kept marching into a blizzard whiteout and have never been seen again. Not much to do when that happens. Even if you stop and bivouac, you're probably going to become a meatsicle.
Some knew they were going to die if they kept climbing, but kept going anyway -- unable to admit defeat. They could have turned back, but didn't.
It takes remarkable commitment to make that climb and once you've committed to the mountain some people can't give that up.
So maybe the worst of all the mountain predicaments is when you have lots of energy, are well-supplied, in great shape, feeling rested with lots of oxygen, but suddenly it just becomes obvious that there is no way to continue the climb. The weather makes a completely unexpected change. The only realistic route is obliterated by an avalanche. Someone on your climbing party becomes sick with dysentery or is stricken with altitude sickness for the first time... or somebody just loses their nerve and freaks out.
But the wheels are in motion!!! You've trained and practiced for this expedition and have spent a fortune on supplies and travel. C'mon dudes, let's do this!!
Nope. Thats a younger climber's mistake. Once you get a few climbs under your belt and you've seen some bad shit you become wiser and more disciplined.
Bail. Go back home and plan for the next one. There will always be a next one, right?
