IN JANUARY, at the Ouray Ice Festival, House gave a slide show about the climb to a packed crowd, admitting that he'd been fairly depressed after the ascent. The last word of the night came from a man with a cane standing at the back of the room: Jeff Lowe, a Utah climber who was once one of America's top alpinists and is now stricken with multiple sclerosis.

"Rather than a question like everyone else had, he just had a comment that brought huge applause," says American Alpine Journal's Kelly Cordes, who was there. "Something like 'Steve, you shouldn't be depressed. You've done something great and you've brought it all back to everyone here. Congratulations on a truly great ascent!' "

"Jeff could certainly relate to Steve's ambition and life-driving passion for climbing as much as anyone ever could," Cordes continues, "and here he is, one of the all-time greats, now dealing with something much bigger than climbing, offering those pure and positive words of encouragement. It put a lump in my throat."

The next month, House and Anderson flew to France for the Piolet d'Or awards and won hands down. After House threatened to bolt the "yellow ax" to the bumper of his van, Anderson took it home "for safekeeping." The two stayed close, and even though Anderson's wife gave birth to a baby boy in June, he headed back to Pakistan with House late in the summer to attempt the "gnarly" south face of the unclimbed east summit of Kunyang Chhish, a 25,590-foot peak north of Gilgit. "We had one great climb together," Anderson told me a few days before they left. "This one may not have the same magic as the Rupal, but I hope it does."

For the moment, at least, the partnership was intact. And in the end, perhaps that was the thing House had been seeking all along—maybe even more than the Rupal Face itself.