It's very difficult to make out in this photo, but, essentially, all of that brown stuff up there to the left of the sub-summit of Gothics? That's what we climber-types call rock. We rapped that, then we went left and descended snow and some ice. The sliver of snow to the left and above the rock? That's what we should have descended.

We could hear voices as we gathered ourselves in the col, and in a few minutes a French Canadian climber bounded down the trail. I'm gonna call him Francois.

Francois: Do you climb zee Gothics?
Me: Yes. Well, sorta. Did you climb the North Face?
Francois: Hawhawhaw! Yez!
Me: Congrats! How was it?
Francois: It was verah niiz!
Me: Cool. How did you find the descent?
Francois: It was a little... you know... but not too bad. Did you leev a sleeng?
Me: Yes. Yes we did.
Francois: What color?
Me: Jaune.
Francois: I have it here!

Now we hear Francois' partner coming down the trail. I'm gonna call him Pierre. Francois hands me our rap sling. I thank him profusely. It really was a nice thing to do. Pierre arrives and looks at our packs.

Pierre: You have beeg rope, yes?
James: We have a rope, yes. We thought we might have to rappel...
Me: Did you rappel the descent?
Francois: No, we have axes and crampon, we downclimb. It was a little... you know... but not too bad.

I couldn't believe it. These two guys soloed the North Face of Gothics (not unusual, as there is essentially no protection without heavy snowpack, and that was nowhere to be found) in very thin conditions (which is also typical), then downclimbed the wrong descent, which we rapped (we did have packs with two-day loads, they had tiny daypacks and two tools), following our tracks.

Pierre: You are doing traverse?
James, Me: Yes.
Pierre: Ah.
James, Me: Yeah.
Francois: Well...
James, Me: Cool.