If you haven't done so already, take a look at the titlebar on this web page. "Where the Day Takes You." It became a theme of sorts for Brian and I, though we'd have liked to have it any other way.

So due to bad ice, a relatively new partnership and the fact that I didn't lead anything on Willey's, which made us a bit slow (I would later attempt to make up for this by trying to be as efficient as possible at all belays and when seconding and cleaning, which are great ideas in the first place), Brian and my confidence took a bit of a hit. To be fair, we were simply not quite there yet, which is fine.

As much as we wanted them, the long routes on Webster, Shoestring and Horseshoe, would be major undertakings. More than the technical climbing, the simple slogging to get to their bases keeps many if not most climbers from bothering with them. Both routes are quite long and committing with little opportunity to bail and the walkoff all the way down the southern ridgeline of the mountain makes for a very long day.

What am I getting at? Simply that Brian and I were honest with ourselves. We weren't in good enough shape to take on a long - if technically easier - route. So we decided to go ahead and try Hitchcock Gully, a mixed rock and ice classic on Mt. Willard, on the second day. We would follow this up with a try on Streamline (NEI 2), a multipitch line between Willey's and Mt. Willard. Our thinking was that even though Hitchcock was technically harder, it was shorter (so we thought) and would give us a bit of a rest after a long first day. Streamline was less committing but still a longer alpine line, which fit our bill for the trip. And we still had the last day free for skiing. We'd simply have to come back to Mt. Webster another time.

I had done Hitchcock the year before. The approach is as for most Crawford Notch climbs, and all climbs on Mt. Willard. Park in the notch and walk the train tracks to your approach. Pictured above is what I thought was the approach to Hitchcock Gully. It looked familiar. At least I thought it did.

And yes, we went up it. For a long, long way.

Brian: I asked Mike how sure he was that this was it.

"Very sure" came the answer.

I think I said, "Pretty sure, I remember following a ravine of sorts," and there was one just to our right, again with tracks heading up, but I'm splitting hairs. And it doesn't matter.

Brian: Bouyed by this confidence, I started up. And up, and up, and up. We went up for a good long way. But the trail kept going. We meandered through increasingly steep terrain. I often had to fully pull on trees to haul my ass over the latest bulge. Yet I continued up always with the thought that Hitchcock would suddenly appear around the next stand of trees.

As we got higher it became increasingly evident that we were not anywhere near Hitchcock. I asked Mike what he thought.

"Well, we're either right below it or nowhere near it," Mike said.

I gritted my teeth at that one. Thank you Dr. Einstein. I was really mad at this point. I was mad at Mike for getting us lost. I was also really mad at myself. I knew that if I were coming here without prior knowledge (i.e., without Mike) I would have scoped things out on the way in. That I would have stopped on the road and found Hitchcock and then looked back at Mt. Webster and said, "All right, we should be directly across from Route X." But I didn't do that and yelling at Mike wouldn't have helped so I sat on my pack quietly until we made the decision to rap. I was probably a little testy at this point and I do apologize for it.

Brian make Mike cry sad tear.

So suffice it to say that no, no and no, Hitchcock Gully wasn't up there. But 60-degree loose snow was. Our plod up this ridiculous slope was probably one of the stupidest things I've ever directed in my life. Before the day was over I must have apologized 20 times.

So take note: This ain't the way to go if you want to try Hitchcock Gully. Unless you want to traverse left over 60- to 80-degree snow and ice for about, oh, a mile. We didn't.

We rapped.