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66.
Thursday, August 20.
The return trip was now under way and we experienced that peculiar psychological feeling that comes to the front on a return trip. Once you have attained your goal and the anticlimax sets in, you are only too anxious to reach home. You are eager to get back to your friends and tell them of your adventures. Even though you return by a different route, the sights by the wayside have less interest for you. It
It had taken us from Thursday noon to Wednesday afternoon to go from Fourth Lake to the summit of Marcy and I honestly think we got every bit out of the trip that we could.  We lazed along, stopped and explored where we would, and in general, took our time.  On the way back it became a point of pride to see how speedily we could make the trip.  We had the hours of arrival and departure at and from the various places on our trip up detailed in our journal, and we tried to beat them on our way back.
     The rain had continued intermittently during the night but a search of the different cabins brought forth good firewood with which to cook our remaining provisions.  In one camp was a box filled with several sticks of what we took to be wood.  Loading up our arms we went outside, intending to throw them on the fire.  As we came into the daylight, we saw that we were each carrying about half a dozen sticks of dynamite.  We gingerly pr[[r overtyped p]]eplaced them in the cabin and took extra precautions about our fire spreading.
   It was while preparing to leave this camp that I neglected to put in our press the orchid we had found on the way up Marcy of which I have spoken.  I have every intention of climbing Marcy again, if only to get this plant.
   We left the camp at 6:45 and reached the Woods Farm about 9:30.