Quiet Heroics on America’s Highest Peak
On a nothing-special day on Mount Whitney, some people show they are born to climb
1 a.m. My alarm goes off. I am dressed and out of my tent by 1:05. I am surprised to see Wilson and Rosemary already standing by the table in our campground sipping coffee.
“How are you this morning?” I ask Rosemary.
“I didn’t throw up,” she replied. “That’s som…
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