Mountaintops have long been seen as sacred places, home to gods and dreams. In one climbing year Peter Boardman visited three very different sacred mountains. He began in the New Year, on the South Face of the Carstensz Pyramid in New Guinea. This shark's fin of steep limestone walls and sweeping glaciers is the highest point between the Andes and the Himalaya, and one of the most inaccessible, rising above thick jungle inhabited by warring Stone Age tribes. During the spring Boardman was on more familiar, if hardly more reassuring, ground, making a four-man, oxygen-free attempt on the world's third highest peak, Kangchenjunga. Hurricane-force winds beat back their first two bids on the unclimbed North Ridge, but they eventually stood within feet of the summit - leaving the final few yards untrodden in deference to the inhabiting deity. In October, he was back in the Himalaya and climbing the mountain most sacred to the Sherpas: the twin-summited Gauri Sankar. Renowned for its technical difficulty and spectacular profile, it is aptly dubbed the Eiger of the Himalaya and Boardman's first ascent of the South Summit took a committing and gruelling twenty-three days. Three sacred mountains, three very different expeditions, all superbly captured by Boardman in Sacred Summits, his second book, first published shortly after his death in 1982. Combining the excitement of extreme climbing with acute observation of life in the mountains, this is an amusing, dramatic, poignant and thought-provoking book, amply fulfilling the promise of Boardman's first title, The Shining Mountain, for which he won the John Llewellyn Rhys Prize in 1979.

'It's a preposterous plan. Still, if you do get up it, it'll be the hardest thing that's been done in the Himalayas.' So spoke Chris Bonington when Peter Boardman and Joe Tasker presented him with their plan to tackle the unclimbed West Wall of Changabang - the Shining Mountain - in 1976. Bonington's was one of the more positive responses; most felt the climb impossibly hard, especially for a two-man, lightweight expedition. This was, after all, perhaps the most fearsome and technically challenging granite wall in the Garhwal Himalaya and an ascent - particularly one in a lightweight style - would be more significant than anything done on Everest at the time. The idea had been Joe Tasker's. He had photographed the sheer, shining, white granite sweep of Changabang's West Wall on a previous expedition and asked Pete to return with him the following year. Tasker contributes a second voice throughout Boardman's story, which starts with acclimatisation, sleeping in a Salford frozen food store, and progresses through three nights of hell, marooned in hammocks during a storm, to moments of exultation at the variety and intricacy of the superb, if punishingly difficult, climbing. It is a story of how climbing a mountain can become an all-consuming goal, of the tensions inevitable in forty days of isolation on a two-man expedition; as well as a record of the moment of joy upon reaching the summit ridge against all odds. First published in 1978, The Shining Mountain is Peter Boardman's first book. It is a very personal and honest story that is also amusing, lucidly descriptive, very exciting, and never anything but immensely readable. It was awarded the John Llewellyn Rhys Prize for literature in 1979, winning wide acclaim. His second book, Sacred Summits, was published shortly after his death in 1982.

'It was Kongur that dominated everything, and was the focus of our gaze and aspirations.' So thought Chris Bonington upon the Chinese Mountaineering Association's decision to open many of Tibet and China's mountains to foreigners in the 1980s. Not only did this mean that Kongur, China's 7,719-metre peak, was available to climb, but that those choosing to do so would be among the first to set foot there. It was an opportunity too good to miss. For the planned alpine-style ascent of this daunting peak, Bonington assembled a formidable team, including Peter Boardman, Joe Tasker, Al Rouse and expedition leader Michael Ward. Their reconnaissance and 1981 expedition brought opportunity for discovery and obstacles in equal measure: they were able to explore areas that had eluded westerners since Eric Shipton's role as British Consul General in Kashgar in the 1940s; but appalling weather, unplanned bivouacs and tensions characterised their quest for the ever-elusive route to the summit. Featuring diary extracts and recollections from each team member, this account not only captures the gripping detail of the ascent attempts, but also the ebb and flow of the relationships between the remarkable mountaineers involved. Add to this the pioneering medical work on high-altitude illnesses conducted by the four-man medical team, and the result is a book which captures a unique moment in mountaineering history. Written with the cheer and eloquence typical of Chris Bonington, Kongur captures the essence of adventure and exploration that brings readers back to his books time and time again.