I found myself snapping pictures every minute, with the light becoming more beautiful with each moment.
I was extremely grateful that the snow had consolidated and my boots did not sink much past my ankle.
I was sure my high school self would never have imagined this being a possibility.
Waking up at 2 was starting to become more and more reasonable.
I follow, much less delicately and much more slowly.
We also notice something that had been absent for the rest of the climb- wind.
Even with the awkward stumbling and kicking that is downclimbing, I am still super stoked with our situation.
2 am continues to become a better decision.
Skiers tracks taunt us as we slowly kick step our way down the snow.
We swap crampons for snowshoes, and head down to the lake.
Finally arriving at the car, I cant help but feel a little confused, or out of place.
We had been up for 9 hours now, but it wasnt even noon.
Also, unlike the majority of my other alpine climbing experiences, my body did not feel completely broken.
