Whitney remains my favorite. The one to whom you return, the one to whom you come home.
White, though was my first. Maybe I was a little tentative as a newbie, but White showed me the way (the jeep road helped).
Kili, well, we had a really
great time, but we both know it was just a fling. I don't do long distance. At least not that
long distance. And Kili doesn't want to move.
Shasta's siren song has been playing softly through my mind since last year, when a whiteout at the thumb forced me down. This last weekend, I went back to try to consummate the deal. Shasta put up some serious obstacles, but ultimately relented, giving me some sore muscles and bruises, and a few moments of pure happiness.
Campsite at 50/50 with Avalanche Gulch in the background. (My Big Agnes Seedhouse SL1 did fine.)
Sunset at 50/50
Mt. Eddy from Avalanche Gulch, with Shasta's mighty shadow covering the landscape
Climbers going up Avalanche Gulch to the Thumb, with Red Banks in the background
Shasta summit in sight (climbers for scale). Winds were 35-plus MPH.
On a clear day...