Climbing Baby Mountain

Our packs were in the middle of the living room floor stuffed full of harnesses, warm clothes and food, with sleeping pads, ices axes and crampons strapped to the outside. We were almost ready to go, Seth said, just awaiting the arrival of two other climbing partners. I took a shower and put on shorts, tank top, zip-T, running socks, shoes. I threw a few more things into my pack, cinched down the straps, zipped closed the zippers and loaded it into the car. I scratched the dogs one last time and, with our friends, my partner and I drove north. We were off to climb a peak in the southern Mission Mountains, a looming peak that weather pushed us off last summer, a peak I’d once thought I’d never try to climb. [Read More]