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The tunnel slanted down, then up, and after about 30 feet opened into a chamber
some 15 feet wide. The place was disappointingly empty: no bones, no nest
material, nothing but smoothly worn bedding sites where generations of bears
From my tent camp at 11,300 feet, on a level place among stone corrals, I had
roamed the hills, climbing high up on the sagebrush slopes until only the silver
bulk of Tirich Mir and I had the sky to ourselves. I had meandered up the valley ...
In the shattering light of the snow my mind shuttles between illusion and reality,
and though I now feel that this may not be our route, the blue notch of the pass
remains a shining beacon, beckoning me on until the world vanishes at my feet.
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LibraryThing ReviewUser Review - Stbalbach - LibraryThing
I'd never heard of Schaller before but wanted to read it because it concern the same 1970s trip Peter Matthiessen was on when he wrote The Snow Leopard. Apparently Schaller was at the time considered ... Read full review
Path to the Mountains
Mountains in the Desert
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