By sunlight or moonlight, its splintered grey crest is the one object which, in spire of wapitu and bighorn, skunk and grizzli, unfailingly arrests the eyes. From it come all storms of snow and wind, and the forked lightnings play around its head like a glory. It is one of he noblest of mountains, but in one's imagination it grows to be much more than a mountain. It becomes invested with a personality.
-Isabella Lucy Bird
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