Leaning Towers XV // Our morning commute to the base of Hall Peak was generally a quiet affair, punctuated only by the gleeful whistle of the marmot raiding camp and the occasional grunt and clatter of sliding scree. After days on end spent tied to one another by ropes, or tucked together into tents, the quiet  rhythm of mindless uphill shuffling was a welcome space to reflect and immerse in the landscape.
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