The Pillars of Doom; A Montana Rendezvous and Meeting Mountain Man Marty

Deserving of their name, we were soon faced with these pinnacles. They were about thirty feet high and two feet wide on top and became wider on down to the bottom, but we couldn’t cross below. We had to cross where they were just a couple feet across. We’re on the top of the mountain looking down on thousands of feet and what could be our last view. And this isn’t a trail—not a well-traveled area with proven success in crossing. It was a free climb, and it was fucking exhilarating. 

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