No matter how old one gets, a son can always expect to return home to be well fed by Mom. When Mom writes wilderness guides and obsesses over ultralight fads, one can also expect, no matter how old one gets, to be well fed in the backcountry. And so, this past July, when my friend flew in from the east coast for a little fun in the Palisades ("err. . . wait, weren't you supposed to be visiting your family?"), he arrived with a Jeep full of gear and his mom's pantry in tow.

We thought the Thunderbolt to Sill traverse might be a good goal for the trip.

We sort out the meals, leave the parking lot around 4:30 pm (gotta love those long summer days!) and walk up and up and up and notice this nice crag on our left:


We decide it's worth the detour and set up camp to climb Venusian Blind the next day. On a calm warm night, we slurped down "Mom's mystery-soup-turned-pasta-sauce" while wrapped in every article of clothing we owned -- it seemed sitting at a desk day-in and day-out had made our skin the perfectly tender meal for the blood-sucking Sierra mosquitos (They don't know what life's about! They don't have blood! They've got too many legs! They don't have brains in their heads!).

The next morning, it's warm and beautiful, and we talus hop to the base:


Having eyed the rather small snowfield at the base from camp, we'd opted to leave the ice axes behind, and instead used the tried-and-true "find two pointy rocks and jab repeatedly" technique that the cavemen used for thousands of years before us:


We get the rope out and scramble up the arete -- 1500 feet of feeling like an 8 year old on a jungle-gym:


Though, after awhile, we did start to notice the altitude!


Next door, the Moon-Goddess sat empty:


A final step off the final tower and we're off the arete -- I find a nice belay with a view, we enjoy some glorious victory-tangerines and a quick drink of water:




A quick rap into Contact Pass, and we're done with our detour:


A jaunt up the hill brings us to Palisade Glacier, where we settled on the moraine for the night:


Our plan was to go up the East Face of Thunderbolt (on the right) and work our way over to Sill (on the far left). However, with how warm it had become recently, we were a little worried about the snow halfway up the route:


After consulting Secor, we decide to climb the Prow of Thunderbolt instead. Sure, that'd make the traverse longer, but it couldn't be that much longer, right? So we get up. . . not so early. The sun's peaking over the ridge as we near the base of The Prow:


Of course, we can't find the 60ft chimney that starts the climb. So we just pick a line that looks good and go! The line was to the right of the arete, and crossed the quartz bands:


It was about 3-4 pitches of fun ~5.8 to the ridge -- including this great OW section that begins as a squeeze and gradually narrows to off-fists:


The ridge climbing, though great, was a bit longer than we expected:


We get to the summit a bit late and decide that perhaps we were being a bit ambitious. After all, wouldn't it be nice to be at camp for a little sunbathing at the foot of the glacier? A lovely mid-afternoon snack? Then dinner? Epics are just so much work. So we decide to call it a day and rap into the notch and descend Underhill Couloir:


The next morning, we realize that we're missing breakfast for the last day -- it seems that neither of us were capable of counting to three. No problem, we still had some lunch left over:


Nothing like a Spam (Lite) and cheese pita to power through the knee-pounding back to the car!


Such a relaxed, low-key trip -- gotta love the magic of lowering expectations!