Well, BillC, you made the right decision, and that reminds me of a story (CLICK. CLICK. CLICK. THE SOUND OF A THOUSAND MOUSES HURRYING TO THE NEXT POST.) ... as I was saying, a story about a friend of long ago, also named Bill. But his last name started with a "P". BillP was infamous because when going to see punk bands, he always insisted on fighting his way through the crowd so he could stand in the very front row--even though he could hear exactly the same shrieking cacophany if he just stayed fifty feet back. (Indeed, "Flipper" was somewhat improved by removing yourself from the auditorium altogether.) We called BillP's obsession "touching the stage". Cuz he had to actually touch the stage, see, or he felt he wasn't fully attending the show, or getting his money's worth.
Well, later that year a mutual friend named Gary traveled to Europe with BillP, and they went to a Christmas Midnight Mass at Chartres Cathedral. And here too, Gary later told me, BillP insisted on fighting his way through an angry French mob, solely so he could stand right next to the altar--so he could touch the stage.
And the point of my senile ramblings is .....? Well, whenever I am in the wilderness, and I find myself feeling obsessive, that I HAVE to get to a particular location (7000 feet, the tram station, wherever) even though there is the wilderness equivalent of an angry French mob preventing me--dangerous ice, late hours, etc--I try to remind myself that I am not BillP, and I do NOT have to Touch the Stage. Every part of the wilderness is of value, I don't need to impose my own artificial human standards about what is the "right" or 'perfect' wilderness experience, and I don't need to be obsessive about artificial goals at the expense of my own safety (or other's safety!) The point is the overall experience, not a particular "end zone". So congrats on overcoming your ego and enjoying the experience safely!
(And your prize is ... my coveted 45 of Jello Biafra singing "I did it My Way.")
