Far from base camp now, we pitch a tent and attempt to conserve our energies for a final attempt on the peak. I admit that my resolve has weakened as I see the pathetic state of my companions.
We are down to our final rations, and - feeling done in - am surprised at the cheerful pluck on the faces of the rest of the team. They are a capital group of chums!
I can scarce believe it. Mount Knee is conquered!
2 comments:
You truly are a mut. (I certainly did something of that nature as young lad. :-)
You sound rum-soaked, O oak-ribbed one. Or did you mean "nut"? I assume you're not calling me a dawg. :)
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