I'm still in Banff. Worn and aweary. Today we took a 7-hour hike up Mt. Rundle. It was actually more of a climb, as we were having to grasp tree branches for a large portion, and take breaks every 3.2 minutes. We made it up 8500 feet or so of the 9700. The last portion of the hike was a scramble up loose shale. Then it started raining. And of course, in typical unpreparedness, we didn't have gloves for the 45 degree weather; our only means of protection was ponchos, also known as expensive blue trash bags. We did not make it up the remainder of the slick wet loose shale, as we value life more than mountain-conquering. The highlight of our trip--in fact, the climax of excitement--was when we got to see Jann at the top, a post-doctorate student of learning theory who had hiked to the top in sandals, and was now crouching in the rain under a rainbow umbrella and eating a 2-foot sub. We now revel in the glorious soreness that must always accompany heroes.
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