In Which the Author and his Dog Bag a 14-footer Friday, August 28, 2009 I could see the summit; no turning back now. All the preparations had been made, but I was a little concerned, as I had just run out of water a very light snow was “spittin.’” I was over 14 thousand feet, and my breath was short…my feet were a bit sore, but I was poised to “bag” one of Colorado’s 54 14,000-ft peaks. I felt a tired sense of satisfaction, as my Timberlands make the final steps, as if on auto-pilot…finally…I was on the summit, wind blasting my coat, chilling the already low 40 degrees. However, the summit is only half the climb…going up, one gets sore; going down, one gets hurt… But, there’s little chance of the decent, as I
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