Chicago is in the middle, both geographically and symbolically. It has the expectations of New York but strives for the fun of Los Angeles. It has both and neither.
The four of us sat in the car at the trailhead in Glencoe, questioning what to do. We watched dozens of tourists exit their tour buses, snap a few photos, and return to the bus completely soaked. Climbing was ruled out after some deliberation, so we drove to Glencoe Village for lunch, turned the car around, and decided to return to Edinburgh with our tails between our legs. Scotland's weather was simply too mean, but I'm sure that if you can get to West Scotland on a clear day, it is probably one of the most beautiful views in the world.
After the marathon, Davinia's dad took us on a small road trip all around the Lake District, with stops in Barrow-in-Furness, Kirkstone Pass, Glenridding, and, as a perfect post-marathon walk, Easedale Tarn by way of Grasmere. The rocky green hills and lakes were awesome to see, and definitely got me excited for my indefinite time here in England.
June 5th, 2014 was one of the most visually amazing days of my life. I rode in a taxi with Svend, Helen, and our new driver, Saule Boy, from Murghab to Langar, Tajikistan. The day started with a view of the sunrise over Muztagh Ata of China, and ended with a sunset illuminating the Wakhan Corridor of Afghanistan. In between, we viewed some of the most amazing lakes, rivers, and, most importantly, mountains, I have ever seen.