Brian and I walked out onto the trestle above Willey Brook and took a gander at what we hoped was Streamline (it's almost entirely out of view from the road). It looked like a great load of snow. The approach, deep snow over boulders and a streambed with short cliffs on the right, looked horrific. We stood in silence.

Brian walked back to his pack. I followed. He asked what I wanted to do. I was non-committal. Brian didn't have any better ideas, nor did I. The conversation got briefly heated.

Dignan: Sigh. He's out. You're out, too. And I don't think I'm in either. No gang!

And was then quickly rectified.

Dignan: I apologize. That was poor leadership. I'm under a lot of pressure right now, and... I don't fell like the team is gelling the way... if I can even use that word because I don't even know if we are a team.
Anthony: Hey, we are a team.
Bob: Yeah, team.
Dignan: Okay. There do you see the star is me, right there, and I'll be in there. The "X" is Anthony. Bob, you're the "zero" out here in the car.

We decided to give it a shot. Even if the going was rough, it's good cardiovascular.

For the record, the going was rough. We took turns breaking trail through waist-deep (I called it something else while on the mountain, something unmentionable) snow for about a mile before taking a break. I wanted to make one thing clear. Brian is not laying down on his pack here. He's up to his ass in snow. At least we had broken out of the trees for the most part. At least that's what it looked like.

Dignan: Then you my friend are a damn fool. Come on. Bob, let's go.