...and after that the big cats learned it was better - for their own sake - to leave Tha Captain alone.Climbing again now. Always higher. Maybe it's the lack of oxygen but it absolutely and completely takes my breath away just to make a feeble attempt to try to maybe half-understand the majesty and the all-encompassing grandeur of the wonder that is these high moors.
An elk. A rare treat. I'm reminded subtly of my tryst in the great Canadian wilderness. I'm downwind of him and his musk is absolutely intoxicating. When I dream it is almost as rare a treat to be able to ride upon the back of such a beast. A twig snaps under my foot as I approach my would-be steed. He wants to run but he can't bring himself to do so. Closer. Closer. I can smell his breath. My pulse quickens. My blood feels as thick as napalm and twice as hot. I reach out. His fur bristles like a million tiny erections. I see a tear form in his steely eye. He knows his death is near but he knows it will not come in vain. I climb atop him. Onward, proud warrior, onward...
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