Nearing Pão de Açúcar

        We were currently soaring high above the city of Rio de Janiero, speeding past the formidable, granite mountains and skimming the waters of Copacabana, Ipanema, and Leblon. Or at least it felt like we were flying. Although not nearly as dramatic, the cable car did offer similar feelings of weightlessness and an extensive view of the city. I could not believe my eyes. And yet, in spite of the incredible views to my left and right, I was unable to peal my eyes away from the direction  the cable car was heading. Right before us stood a startling, conical shaped mound of enormous proportions, Pão de Açúcar. We were really here. 
       Much like its lesser-known brother,  Pão de Açúcar also resembled a magnificent lump of smooth, but much steeper, coffee-colored clay, sporting a monumental size of 396 meters (1,299 ft) tall. Running down the sides of its dark, smooth surface were numerous faded, white stripes of sediment. However, unlike Morro da Urca, which had a luscious growth of fresh, green vegetation covering its head, Pão de Açúcar was a largely balding beast, only cultivating a modest, green fuzz. But rather than detract from its appearance, its lack of a verdant vegetation only added to its surreal quality, providing a sharp contrast between the bare, dull brown of the granite to the exuberant emerald greens of the hills beneath it.
      While I was still dumbly staring at the steep protrusion of granite before me, we were still gradually nearing its summit. I hardly knew what to expect. If his little brother, Morro da Urca, had such astounding views, what would the summit of Pão de Açúcar look like?