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[at-l] Springer Fever. BAD. . .

Eight years ago (count 'em, eight! <sob>) tomorrow I stood at the top of
Springer in the sleet and snow, trying to thaw my camera out enough to take
a picture of the bronze plaque. Now it's warm, the sun is shining, the
birds are chirping, and I'm stuck here at work in desperate need of another
six month vacation. I wanna go back!


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