Trail of Death
/Following the death march trails of Borneo
Read MoreSeveral “just one mores” later and I turned to see a young French lady at the bar next to me. She was friendly, but as mad as French cheese
Read MoreMy knees and legs had completely gone; I was literally in tears, and was reduced to walking sideways, and using my butt to get down the final two hours. I really did not think I would make it.
Read MoreWe stumbled across a mountain refuge, a god forsaken stone shelter without light, water, or anything for that matter. I’d resigned myself to spending the night there, hoping that the storm would have passed by morning and that we would have a better chance of continuing the descent.
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