The stories of Cerro Torre, a mountain in the Southern Patagonian Ice Field in South America, are twisted in between crevices, cruxes, streets, and walls in surrounding cities. Half a century of controversy, loss, success, dishonesty, and heroics lay frozen under layers upon layers of the ice that thickly coats the peak.

The ice, and the rock that anchors it, is constantly being whipped at, so much so that the area has been dubbed “the broom of God” by locals. The history behind the mountain is as thick as the ice that covers it, and author Kelly Cordes spent two years digging through to write the book The Tower: A Chronicle of Climbing and Controversy on Cerro Torre. It will be available November 11.

The book, published by Patagonia, starts by drawing readers in with misty photos of the mountain and immediately the thought of scaling it feels daunting, but the stories of those who have climbed to the top feel more necessary, and more real. There are clear photo maps of the mountain from all directions, drawing out routes climbers have taken to scale it, shedding light on the subject for those who may not be as familiar with the climb.

Cordes gives an introduction to the mountain, like describing an old friend that one speaks of with high regard, but with a bit of distaste as well.

“Cerro Torre isn’t like the perfect pyramidal mountains children draw.” he wrote. “It’s more sheer, more vertical, with summit mushrooms of snow and ice spilling beyond the walls below, resembling the top of a shaken champagne bottle, its exploding contents frozen in place.” From there, Cordes dives into the deep history that he spent two years researching. This research took him to seven different countries and resulted in him pulling from more than 250 sources. He did his homework, and it’s evident in his writing.

It’s obvious in the stories he tells about the climbers that have made it to the summit previously, especially the interview with the first man to scale the mountain, Cesare Maestri. Through all the writing, he’s meticulous with details and takes his time going through information. Although there is quite a bit of climber jargon, the book is still accessible—and enjoyable—for someone who doesn’t climb. There is also a climbing glossary, conveniently located at the back of the book.

“When I was thinking about how to write it, I didn’t want to make it dumbed down, but I didn’t want it to be so insider that my sister couldn’t understand it,” Cordes explained about the fine line between being too technical with climber lingo, and too vague by excluding it. Climbing knowledge will certainly help a reader, but without it, the story still appeals to anyone who has the smallest sliver of interest in adventure literature.

The book follows a timeline, and eventually gets to the climb that Cordes did himself, with partner Colin Haley. He takes one chapter to relay the experience, and almost didn’t even include that. “It shouldn’t be about me,” he said. “Yeah, I did a cool climb there but there’s so much more important stuff with so much greater influence than I could dream of having impact on.”

Reading the chapter only takes a few minutes, swiftly passing through what took hours, and a massive amount of strength and discipline. He writes in first person, but the story, as he wants, is never really about him. Cordes has a strong writing background—he was senior editor for American Alpine Journal for 12 years, and is accustomed to writing about his climbs in first person. “When you’re doing interesting research, writing in first person can pull the reader in a bit more and reveal more insight into the story than you might do with a third-person reporting style,” Cordes said.

The way he tells the story certainly make it seem like that—a story. It’s historical and full of information, facts, incidents, and names, but it never feels like research or work. It’s an interesting story with just the right narrator, someone who doesn’t want to see themselves in the story too much. Even the people who make up the story never really have a leading role—it’s always Cerro Torre that steals the spotlight. The mountain plays a character in a complex and extremely layered tale.

It wasn’t easy sifting through all the history for Cordes, though. “For me, writing is a desperately difficult process, it does not come easy for me,” he explained. He started to tell a story about a night when he was particularly conflicted, in the middle of what he said was crazy book stress, asking himself, “How the hell am I going to put this together?” He paused mid-story and explained that there is one thing he does well in life, and that’s make a good margarita, which led him to the liquor store on that very night. He went back to the story, and his writing frustration. “I walked across the street to the liquor store, [and] on the door of the liquor store was a ‘help wanted’ sign,” he said. “I stood outside the door staring at that sign thinking, ‘Oh man, it would be so much easier. Maybe I should ask for an application…’”

He didn’t get an application. Instead, he took a photo, which still hangs by his computer to remind him of how different his life would be if he had chosen to work at that store. At times though, it didn’t seem like such a bad option.

Cerro Torre continues to play a character in the narrative. For those unfamiliar with the mountain, or climbing at all, he explained that there’s an incomprehensibly beautiful peak in southern tip of South America that people have been throwing themselves at obsessively for more than half a century. His book is written around the peak, but follows the stories of the people who have shaped its reputation. “Every crazy element of human behavior is basically played out on this meaningless to the world peak,” he said. “It’s not just climbing, it’s not just natural beauty, it’s how humans interact with such beauty and an incredible natural challenge.

Images courtesy of Craig Scariot/Kelly Cordes.