Flashes of Panic

It’s not really practical for me to write about the Katahdin trip here. There are too many details, too many little stories (the time I left my GPS on the hood of the truck for ten miles of rough dirt road; the col between Pamola and Chimney Peak; the crowd on the Baxter Peak; etc.) It would be twenty little entries or one unreadably-large one.

Plus, the story is not entirely my own, and as the Scoplaw so vividly illustrated yesterday, telling it becomes somewhat less than simple. I will probably try to narrate the whole thing into a letter to my former roommate, a one-time camping companion, who will enjoy the tale.

The best way I’ve found to present it as a narrative without injecting too many digressions, details, and/or false (or personal) melodrama was the photos. I’ve put about seventeen in a set on Flickr, a sliver of the 120 or so I saved and the two hundred plus I have (since I grabbed copies of my brother’s shots as well.) If you want most of the story, start there, then ask questions.

Now Playing: Antenna from Starfish by The Church