As in we found it and we weren't going to lose it this time.

We had one day left to climb and we were going to make the most of it. Hitchcock Gully was where I fell in love with alpine climbing. In the guidebook ("An Ice Climber's Guide to Northern New England," Rick Wilcox) the climb is rated NEI 2, but it goes at around 3 to 3+, thanks to the mixed and usually quite thin first pitch and the potential for steep water ice choking the second pitch. From the top of the second pitch it's a thrash up through trees and brush to the summit. It's a great, classic line. And we'd finally found it. Again.

So I failed to mention something that Brian told me after our earlier steep slog to nowhere, probably because I'd felt so bad about leading him astray the day before. What he'd told me, as we'd come back down from our failure to find Hitchcock's approach and were looking at the southeast face of Mt. Willard from Route 302, was the following:

He: "Oh. That's Hitchcock? I did that one last year, at least I did the approach to the first pitch, then an exit on the left."
Me: "So you've been up the approach."
He: "Yeah."

Sad, isn't it? We'd both been there the year before, within weeks of one another, and we'd both been up the approach. But neither one of us could recall where it was.

Dorks R' Us.

Brian: In my defense, I didn't remember the name of the route I had done the year before. It had turned out to be an abortive day with avalanche danger in the gully. I was guided on that trip and had regarded the day as kind of a waste. It wasn't until I saw the approach that all became clear and my (unintended) complicity in this little disaster saw the light of day.

Like Brian, I too had been on a guided climb last time I'd been on the route. The approach conditions had been quite a bit different, and I wasn't paying too much attention to anything, other than to not falling over. I was in the middle of the rope, simulclimbing, head down. One thing is certain: I'll never forget what that approach looks like now, that's for sure.