HEADED HOME Words and Photos by Dan Schwartz
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lood seeps from the last three knuckles on my left hand, staining the snow pink. I pat my chin, the first point that hit the edge of the crevasse I have just fallen into – no blood there. Charlie, Andrew, Caleb and Clay gawk as I stagger to my feet, weary of my 70-pound backpack swinging me back into the crevasse. We’re ready to be out. Our 21 days in the Alaskan backcountry has been taxing. Just three more days
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