Column: When the Bucks win
When 4:22 a.m. seems late, it’s likely that you’re either fishing or hunting and it’s summer, so as far as catastrophes go, it’s not very serious.
I set the alarm for 4 a.m., and by the time I had geared up, had two raspberry Pop-Tarts and 12 ounces of water down, I unzipped the tent to find a world fully illuminated. The alpine was washed in a warm yellow as if greeting the deer hunting season with enthusiasm. It was bright and welcoming at the summit and clouds hung below in the lower reaches as they typically do.
But as I said, I felt late, because I still had a few hundred yards to hike before I was where I wanted to be.
