let's go climb a volcano."
It sounded like a
reasonable thing to do at the time. My buddy Kevin is
always coming up with ideas like that ("hey, let's ski to
minturn", or "hey, i think i might move to alaska" or "hey,
lets file the serial number off this boat and ditch it in
the mexican desert.") I wasn't sure whether I'd live
or die whenever I did stuff with Kevin. This time,
had just quit my job as a law firm lawyer to go join a (then
really promising but you know the rest of the story) dot
com. As if that decision weren't dangerous enough, I
decided to take my wife on a climbing trip with Kevin and
the rest of the gang. We set our sights on Mt. Shasta,
the second highest of the Cascade volcanoes (after Mt.
Rainier), and home to
California's largest glaciers. We climbed via the
"tourist route" -- Bunny Flat (6,900') to the summit
(14,162') by way of Avalanche Gulch. We had perfect weather,
almost all of us made the summit and nobody got hurt.
A minor miracle, to say the least.