And then it was just us. And it.

There was significantly less ice on the first pitch than when I'd seen it the year before. To the right, you have broken and very steep steps that never really seem to cover in ice. There is little opportunity for protection within these steps as all of the cracks are filled with moss and vines. Up the center is a small runnel that was verglassed and quite steep, again, with little opportunity for pro. The party before us said they had attempted to go up the runnel but backed off.

To the left is a small ice flow that peters out at a big flake. Last year there was significantly more ice here, which made the line less awkward. It was obvious to us that we needed to go left. Once around the flake you have to negotiate a short, nearly vertical, featureless slab to bring yourself up, kicking and screaming, to the tree midway up the line. From there you may either traverse out to the steps and garden your way up, or mantel and claw your way up the steep slab in the left corner, which was covered in verglas, and was the exit I'd taken the year before.

Brian: [CAVEAT EMPTOR: The following reads in a perhaps overly dramatic fashion. I thought of rewriting it and then reconsidered. Drama is what I felt, and drama is what you shall read. Unless of course you skip over it. But it makes a pretty good read.]

Wouldn't be the first time someone pulled something like that on this site.