They told him the rules were simple: The ocean is life. The mountains are death. For 10,000 years, no one questioned it. But he looked at the churning, gray sea and felt... nothing. He looked at the 5,000 huddled bodies and felt suffocated.

He realized that a life spent merely 'surviving' wasn't a life at all. He chose the mountains not because he wanted to die, but because it was the only choice that was truly his. He is the patron saint of the 70km detour.