“ It is the conquest of this fear that adds half the charm to climbing. ”
We think of those nights spent with one or more friends, nights when we merged with the shadows and could see the world with eyes that were not our own.
~ Whipplesnaith
Alas! Charles made the promise glibly, and forgot all about it.
Sometimes those experiences crowd back upon the memory, and the past flashes back like a distant peak momentarily lighted up by sunbeam piercing through the clouds. Then oblivion again. Strange it is how the prosaic present may hide the exciting past.
The climber, like a fox which is hard-pressed, should always have one more trick in his bag.
