Coming South into Cantwell the road bends to the right  and you become the 3,489,647th person to say “Holy F**king Sh*t!” as Denali whomps you with its sheer visual weight.  Like everyone else we were looking around at the big mountains, wondering... now, is that it?  Is that it?  Nah, too close to the road.  Nah, it’s off to our right as we head south, right?  And then you see it.  It was covered in cloud of its own making (it often is, I’m told) but that makes little difference. Superlatives fail.  It goes straight from your eyes to your sternum.

 

Hard not to be inspired up here, the gigs have been spectacular, the audiences carrying the music up and out the chimney.  Lord, lord.  It’s going pretty good.