AUTHOR, SUBJECT HAD SOME OUTLOOK: NO FEAR.

Byline: Rich Martin Special to the Daily News

It is the ultimate question for anyone who defies death in outdoor activities: why? But authors rarely ask. Even when they do, the answers are rarely compelling.

Often narratives beg the question. Unfortunately, most writers who address the subject - as do most outdoor-lovers - perhaps are not reflective.

No one can accuse Andrew Todhunter of that in ``Fall of the Phantom Lord, Climbing and the Face of Fear'' ($14, Anchor Books). He chronicles the life of rock-climbing legend Dan Osman, following him on the ascent (and descent, in free falls) and in his daily life. He intersperses this account with a personal narrative of a life filled with risk.

Every page addresses the need some people have for danger. Todhunter traces his own past of climbing buildings in New York, engaging in risky outdoor activities (nearly drowning when scuba diving in a cave; rock climbing; and as a youth, combining alcohol and fast vehicles). Then he shows his conversions when he becomes a father and stops courting danger even as Osman, also a father, does not.

Osman, who died in November 1998 (detailed in an afterword), comes across as a man who can't (or won't) go along to get along in his real life. He has many tickets from driving too fast, he can't keep track of what needs to be done in his daily life. He admits to Todhunter that he couldn't live without taking death-defying risks.

In fact, Osman was not reckless about his rock climbing and jumping from fixed structures. He calculated everything and had developed a sense for where to go. He was careful with his equipment.

The themes of the book are not only risk but dealing with fear. Osman should be admired for conquering that fear, which can be paralyzing. That is his real achievement, as Todhunter shows him acting rationally and with calculation in the face of fear.

Todhunter describes his own encounter with the Phantom Lord: ``In a mutation so swift as to be imperceptible, as if externally compelled, I pass irreversibly through Osman's moment of choice. In the attenuated heartbeats that fall between the moment of commitment and the moment of execution, the pooling fear distills, climaxes and transmutes. The resistance of the will cracks and dissolves. My body, suddenly unbound, becomes weightless, soars in its position on the rock. The oxygen is rich, heavy. I have gained no deeper confidence in the equipment. I have in no way lost the visceral suspicion that I may soon lie mangled on the rocks below. I have simply been relieved of my command.

``I count to three and step off the cliff. The sensation of the fall begins at once, without the anticipated poise in space. The shoreline within range of my peripheral vision vaults skyward. The cliffside smears into a blur. The acceleration exceeds all expectation. No dream fall, no gently arcing decent from a high board, has prepared me for the rate of my descent. I am not falling; I have been hurled, spiked perhaps, with celestial gusto from the sky.''

But he later decides enough is enough. As a father, he climbs but does not jump. Taking risks was a chapter in his life that is over. He no longer feels compelled to conquer his fear.

Osman does not. Taking possibly fatal risks is a part of his life he can't give up. His first marriage dissolved over this issue, and it's as if he lives for the moments when he's in the present. As if his life is a failure except for when he is a rock-climbing legend.

Todhunter does a great job reflecting on his past life and weaving that story with Osman's. He deals with fear and risk well. He is neither patronizing nor judgmental toward Osman. But there is one issue he doesn't deal with. It concerns the Phantom Lord.

Conquering fear is a great thing. But fear, as is pain, is a warning device. Maybe the Phantom Lord is trying to tell us that what we're doing is foolish just as pain tells us that something's wrong. Merely trying to conquer fear might not be the solution in every situation. Perhaps there's another lesson.

Todhunter deals successfully with most other issues. He questions the nature of barriers and limits. What is acceptable risk and what is reckless? Should risk be a part of every life? He does not give the answers but challenges our assumptions and myths. There is no way to gauge risk, no formula to determine what is acceptable and what is foolhardy.

But there are lessons from danger: a recognition that nothing lasts forever and that we need to set priorities. Osman, who died when his rope snapped while making a jump, decided that risk was too important to give up. Todhunter concluded that it was time to be a father and not to challenge the Phantom Lord at every turn. He had defeated him once, that was enough.

Too bad many risk addicts don't make the same choice. And too bad few books reach this height. (our rating: 3 and half stars.)

Another backpacking guide. Do we really need one?

No one has the patent on outdoors knowledge and too many guidebooks go through the motions, explaining camping and hiking as if the books were computer-use manuals.

Not ``Backpacking the Kelty Way'' (Perigee, $14.95) by Nena Kelty and Steve Boga. Its decidedly nonslick appearance is deceptive. This is a highly professional book and has the virtue of being homemade, like good chicken soup. There are few photos but many well-done drawings. And it is thorough and readable, with plenty of nuggets of wisdom and entertaining anecdotes. ``Kelty'' is better-written and more fun to read than similar books with more cachet value.

John Kelty (spouse of Nena) is well-known among backpackers. He pioneered the design of backpacks in the 1950s by using waist straps and aluminum poles, among other innovations. Although he sold his share in the company that bears his name, his and his wife's knowledge in backpacking are evident in this work.

``Kelty tackles the usual subjects: preparations, food, clothing, trail issues, camp concerns, winter backpacking, survival, outdoor health and animal lore. Yet this volume distinguishes itself in several important areas.

First, it is exhaustively thorough. With 382 pages, you don't get the feeling that the author was itching to finish writing it. Second, just when you're starting to get the sense that you're attending a lecture, the authors find a way to pique your interest. There are quizzes in each chapter, which make learning less like school. And the authors include ways of making the process interesting with a list of pranks to pull on friends (for those who enjoy such things) and even a phone number for those interested in backpacking in the buff. This antiserious approach helps make the book a joy to read.

The quality of the information is also high. In the chapter on animal lore, it's learned that male crickets chirp faster when the temperature is rising and that animals feed for longer periods just before a storm.

The chapter on survival is especially well-done. It shows the authors' common-sense approach; water is the ever-present consideration when people are in a tough spot. They urge those in such a situation to avoid eating and not take any salt tablets unless there's plenty of water. Remembering the Backpackers Law of Threes, we can go three minutes without air, three hours without shelter from a storm, three days without water and three weeks without food.

Novices could learn most of what they need to know from this book, which is testament enough (Our rating: 3 and half stars.)

CAPTION(S):

2 photos

Photo: (1 -- color) no cover (cover of ``Backpacking the Kelty Way'')

(2) no caption (cover of ``Fall of the Phantom Lord'')