This is the greatest account of climbing Mount Shasta I've ever read: September 12, 1862: Mount Shasta.
When I climbed Mount Shasta, not only was I 17 years old, and had crampons and an ice ax, but we got to climb it on a clear, sunny day in early August.
The description of descending at dusk through the snowstorm is thrilling!
No comments:
Post a Comment