In Thanks

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If we get the entire route, it will be the finest on Fairview, if not in Tuolumne; better than Mr. Toad's says Clevenger, and better than the other nearby giant, Fairest of All, which hooks too wildly right in the middle to be the grandest west face line.

This will be my finale in the Meadows... last hurrah ... piece de resistance. There just don't seem to be more good lines between lines between lines between lines in Tuolumne. Pratt steals away some summers to a secret rock palace which leaves his eyes sparkling most of the fall... got to pry it out of him somehow.

Bob, the years I've spent climbing in Tuolumne were pure nourishment to me. How about you? The Meadows always made the regular, flat world bearable, and the flat world made the meadows a sanctuary. It was the pull between the two which nourished. School and work without the mountains would have been deadly. The mountains without the nervous struggling down below would have been limbo, not heaven.

Well, man, as if you didn't know, you were like a father to me for those summers, modeling a conniving, effortless style, clever protection, and witty love for those soaring virgin walls. So, I'II say thanks and thanks also to Tuolumne for holding us like a mother might between deep blue and granite folds in the warmth of the Meadows sun....

Tom


Bob Kamps