Maggie Slepian, January 2013

The Lookout
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Thursday, January 17, 2013 - 10:47am Maggie Slepian


The wimpy inclines on the Leverich Canyon switchbacks made me wheeze and gasp. My snowshoes were on the wrong feet. My left hand was achingly cold because I couldn’t fit a mitten over my cast. Boiling over with frustration and stumbling constantly, I attempted to overcompensate by picking my feet up more, perpetuating the cycle of flailing and tripping over the snowshoes.

Hyalite snowshoe Maggie“You look like a puppy trying to untangle string from around its leg,” Ryan said with no regard for my already shredded dignity.

“I’m supposed to be CLIMBING right now,” I exploded, using my last remaining bit of lung capacity. Ryan either didn’t hear me or didn’t care to respond. I stomped on, keeping up a steady growl expressing my desire to be pumping out on overhanging problems, lock-off leg lifts, and everything else I was no longer capable of doing.

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