Yep, for me it was a slog, a hard slog. Had to quit just feet from the summit. Someone says 'no limits'. Well, I think it's wise to know your limits - which usually I'm not very good at (I sense that if I don't get better, it's liable to be the death of me). So with two kids with me on the hike, that I knew weren't going to make it, I decided to turn back just short of the top. If I had started out an hour or two earlier, I wouldn't have run out of time. Next year.... to the top!
It's a fearful thing, but I admit I have become a comfort creature, I like my surroundings, coffee done a certain way, pecking away at the puter, taking dogs on an outing and all. Oh I miss them when I'm gone. And it's true, that 2 days into the trip, it is possible that I would wish I could snap my fingers and be back home. Often I have flown across the Atlantic and thought to myself, 'what am I doing up here?'
But it's a fever... here I go again.....
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