
Steve so Marty Raney here I high in the
Alaska Range it’s a good range this is
the mountain range that has mount
mckinley in it that way twenty thousand
three hundred and twenty feet 17 of the
20 highest peaks in North America or in
Alaska I mean look around man what’s
crazy is this one that’s right behind me
over my shoulders a volcano and everyone
said well that blows every ten years
covers Alaskan muck that much ash think
that might be a sh Y this is this
glacier has all this black on it i’m not
sure but to anyway this has been a great
expedition this one has been mountain
climbing and rock climbing and just
scrambling up through these crazy kind
of granite / scramble loose broken some
schist just crazy stuff but all exciting
all quite adventurous lots of exposure
which is you know what makes mountain
climbing what it it gives mountain
climbing is its name
here’s a little something I wrote last
night the call of the wild is heard by
few it’s whisper rides the wind so it
turns his heart and head true north as
the cold wind beckons him he burns the
bridges behind him but the flames light
the path indeed off to the edge of
nowhere last of a dying breed
Alaska Range it’s a good range this is
the mountain range that has mount
mckinley in it that way twenty thousand
three hundred and twenty feet 17 of the
20 highest peaks in North America or in
Alaska I mean look around man what’s
crazy is this one that’s right behind me
over my shoulders a volcano and everyone
said well that blows every ten years
covers Alaskan muck that much ash think
that might be a sh Y this is this
glacier has all this black on it i’m not
sure but to anyway this has been a great
expedition this one has been mountain
climbing and rock climbing and just
scrambling up through these crazy kind
of granite / scramble loose broken some
schist just crazy stuff but all exciting
all quite adventurous lots of exposure
which is you know what makes mountain
climbing what it it gives mountain
climbing is its name
here’s a little something I wrote last
night the call of the wild is heard by
few it’s whisper rides the wind so it
turns his heart and head true north as
the cold wind beckons him he burns the
bridges behind him but the flames light
the path indeed off to the edge of
nowhere last of a dying breed
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