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A trip back in time and place, to the High Sierra in 1958. The first to hit you is the smell of the Sierra. The campfire smoke, the rotting pine needles as you scuff them together to roll out your sleeping bag, the absence of smell on a snowfield. Then the physical characteristics of the rock under your sleeping bag that you missed, hiking up the scree 3 steps forward and one step back, the chill of the shadowed canyon walls. And the overall sense of grandeur that is with you always in the mountains. It all comes flooding back in this book.