tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8644497758315172164.post4964810166160758427..comments2011-09-23T18:14:18.236-07:00Anonymous Cyclisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03454630688500181579noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8644497758315172164.post-71719444438590530902011-09-23T18:14:18.236-07:002011-09-23T18:14:18.236-07:00I should have picked them up. Half a pack of pristine cigarettes. Ah, but smoking is not good for climbing.albiesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03637456485718552888noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8644497758315172164.post-27535281275927977492011-09-17T21:30:37.498-07:002011-09-17T21:30:37.498-07:00It&#39;s funny, I wrote this in the haze of a hot shower, muscle creams, tacos and beers that following my arrival home that day. The cigarette comparison came to me as I spun my way home alone from the meet point, about another 15 miles. But just now, a few days later, my memory is coming back to me.<br /><br />Albert had found a pack a cigarettes on the climb that were almost full. He commented on how you never find a pack with any left, and he almost wanted to grab them, just because.<br /><br />Strange.Chris Klibowitzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14662281494444842240noreply@blogger.com