After staying up past 1AM, giving my house
a last scrub down, mowing the lawn and hopping on a bus to Boston, I was en
route to Denver for a week and a half of fun. I passed out for the entire flight, was picked up at the airport by Hannah and slept the hour and a half
to Frisco. After dinking around a bit and getting more shuteye, it was time.
After leaving Boston at about 100 ft elevation, flying, arriving sleep
deprived, the smartest thing to do is definitely to bike seven miles uphill at
8,000 ft elevation. I thought so at the beginning of the ride at least. By
the time we got to our destination, the Peter Estin 10th Mountain Hut, the
metallic taste of lactic acid was the only thing that I could think about, then
the view hit me. Everything was so crisp – the light, air, view and even the
smell. I hadn’t realized how much I missed the big C-O until that point. From where I was lying slightly comatose, I was glad that I could spend it
staring at such a breathtaking sight.
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