Top 35 Jimmy Chin Quotes

I won’t ski in the backcountry the day after a big storm anymore. The mountains are so humbling. As soon as you think you’re on top or crushing it, that’s when you need to be really careful.

I discovered and fell in love with skiing long before I started to climb. Skiing was really my first calling. As a kid, I grew up skiing in jeans in Minnesota.

When you’re climbing something as challenging as Meru, it’s all about efficiency. Even a decision as small as what to eat for dinner would expend energy you need for making other, more dramatic decisions.

The mainstream audience has a certain picture of what climbing is all about: man conquering mountain. But you can’t conquer a mountain, though it may conquer you.

I really believe that, as human beings, we have an innate need to explore, to see what’s around the corner.

Great images take you on a journey via a single photograph. The depth and layers pull your eye all over the frame, causing you to pick up interesting pieces along the way, ultimately coming to a climax.

There’s intense personal gratification in finding a mountain and becoming inspired by the aesthetics of an unclimbed line on that mountain, especially if that line has been tried by a lot of people who couldn’t do it, and you get to set yourself up against the history of it.

I think being a good dad is on the list of things to do. But, I will always ski, climb, surf, and be out in the mountains and oceans. It’s who I am. My goal is to just keep doing it all and enjoying it.

I’ve hidden behind the camera my whole life because I much, much, much prefer shooting. Being behind the camera is my safe space, and it’s my creative space, too.

I’m constantly out of my mind trying to stay in shape.

The climbs up the Hand of Fatima, which is 2,000 feet, and Naga Parbat, which is just over 15,000 feet, were spectacular. The Hand of Fatima and the Kaga Tondo, in Mali, is a personal favourite of mine.

I like to think that images of people doing amazing things may open people’s eyes to the human potential, to the idea that people can do the extraordinary when they set their minds to it.

As a professional climber, that’s the question you always get: Why, why, why? It’s an ineffable thing; you can’t describe it.

As a professional climber and photographer, I am asked to shoot in a lot of situations with a lot of different people. Sometimes I’m with the hardest, most seasoned alpinists in the world. Sometimes I’m hanging out with celebrities doing a benefit climb.

I grew up studying martial arts, playing violin, swimming competitively, so I already had athletic focus, discipline and training. When I brought that to climbing, I became passionate.

If you want to train for big mountain endeavors, spend time in big mountains.

I like the idea of infinite human potential, and a lot of my photography and filmmaking has been focused on that.

So many diseases and illnesses have fundamental roots in the lack of clean water. Resolving the clean water crisis would mitigate a lot of problems.

People say, ‘Are you insane?’ But the most successful climbers are the most calculating, with the most refined sense of risk. They’re hyper-conscious of safety. They’re the least insane people I know.

Creating films and photographs through situations that few others could experience is my life’s inspiration.

I try to live intentionally, and the things that move me, I’m going to throw myself at them. I want to see what my potential is. I’m always curious to see what the edge is.

Meru was the most challenging climb of my life. Not once but twice.

The two great risks are risking too much but also risking too little. That’s for each person to decide. For me, not risking anything is worse than death. By far.

When I show up in New York, and I look at the skyline, it’s like showing up in a mountain range. My gaze goes toward the most impressive-looking climb. It’s always gone to the top of the World Trade Center.

I loved going to the Chiang Kai Shek Memorial in Taipei to watch all the old Chinese people doing tai chi and practicing kung fu. The monument was made of white marble, and it was beautiful. Sometimes my dad and I would practice with them.

You can show up at Everest having never really climbed before, because it’s like hiking, basically. You can’t show up on Meru and start up the thing unless you have years and years of experience. Climbing and spending time on the mountains is really the only way you can train.

The best alpinists are the ones with the worst memories.

I feel like I’m doing what I love. If I can get out, shoot, film and climb, and be with my friends and family, I’m happy. It doesn’t take a lot. I don’t need to climb huge mountains. I have a deep connection with wilderness and the environment, and I’m thankful for that.

Climbing is my art; I get so much joy and gratification from it.

Fear is always there; it’s a survival instinct. You just need to know how to manage it.

The thing that I’ve always believed is that you have to follow your passion, and if climbing is your calling in life and your craft, to not do it is a tragedy. I am always going to encourage my children to follow their passions and dreams, whatever they are.

I truly believe the intention of creating positive change is so important to the collective consciousness. When you have a group of people that have the intention and the capacity, talent, and intelligence to actualize those intentions, then you have something really powerful.

I’m a filmmaker. I like to ask the questions, make others feel vulnerable. I don’t want to be vulnerable.

You do wonder – when you are at 28,000 feet, the height that aeroplanes cruise at, when you are struggling to draw breath and every limb aches – why do I do this?

I’ve tried to eat little shrubs before. We were on an unsupported 20-plus day traverse, following the migration of endangered antelope across the Chang Tang Plateau. We were like, ‘Oh, this is what they ate; we should try it.’