An Irish Ending?
The winds reach gale force as we near the mountain pass. I lean hard into my hiking pole, fearing it may buckle under the force of the wind at my back. My hooded jacket drawcords slap violently at my cheeks. I turn and look down the steep boulder field and see my wife, Debra, 20 yards below me. I press on, navigating through the running water cascading over rocks and oozing out of peaty soil. Minutes later, I’m over the pass and celebrating the absence of wind. “Hipster” shee