EXT. MT WHITNEY TRAIL, SOMEWHERE ON THE MILLIONTH SWITCHBACK – DAY
Nausea flows over the pair like the high tide pulsing into the San Francisco bay. Heavy limbs drag in the thin air as they push past 13,000 feet, the highest either one has been on foot. Traction on the shattered granite rocks is shaky at best, forcing the reliance on trekking poles. The poles make the arms weak, forcing the reliance on good traction. A vicious cycle…rinse, and repeat.
With every step, a question arises. [STEP] Why? [STEP] How? [STEP] [STEP] How much farther? [STEP] [STEP] [SLIP] &#%@!
The dull headache is a companion now, a symbiotic relationship. Existential crises occur on the order of minutes, not decades. Hope is almost lost, swallowed by the summit of the mountain they dare not stare in the eye. Who would do such a thing to them, they wonder. What could have possibly led them to this moment of suffering and agony?
INT. HOUSE IN BAY AREA – DAY (SPRING 2015)
Wooooooo! Who got Mt Whitney permits?? This guy!! It’s gonna be awesomeeee.Continue Reading…