August. Burned out on Tahquitz and Jim says, "Time for the Pals." I agree.
Jam out of Ventura County to the trailhead and camp at one of the lakes that evening. My neck needs relief, it's pinched and very painful. But the routes we've got in mind are Third Class/Fourth Class on two of the Northern Palisade group, Mt. Sill, the behemoth, and Mt. Winchell, a doughnut. We like cake. Will we eat it?


Let me assure you, I really needed a soft day the next morning.
I accompanied Jim onto the Palisade Glacier and who the hell is that?

Himself!

Awesomely auspicious, I must say! Two clients in tow, so we couldn't dick around long, but the vibes were just the thing to send us on with glee and high jinx.
Because I could not bear thinking about the climb up Mt. Sill, Jim decided he'd try it solo. I would go over to the nearby Mt. Gayley, more than happy to shoot his ascent from there. We got back to camp before the shadows got real long and I downed some pain pills and we slept like dead things.

Next day, the two of us headed to Mt. Winchell, north of the Very Obtrusive Buttress of Thunderbolt. A large notch divides the two peaks. We chose to leave the rope in camp. Third class all the way with massive drop-offs, especially to the north towards Mt. Agassiz.

Winchell's summit is sweet as sin. You'll love it!

We had to come down, but you don't, you know. I thought that summit looked a bivy-lover's hang, if any there is one on a summit in the Sierra Nevada.

I hope you enjoyed the time warp. My pleasure and Jim's as well. When I questioned him whether this was August or July of 1982, he suggested I check the date stamps. You have the slides now, Jim, remember?

He also recalled in that same e-mail: "I remember meeting John Fischer on the approach somewhere, and stupidly asking what they were going to use the x-c skis for. (Duh…). There is a glacier up there Jim."

The One enthroned in heaven laughs;
the Lord scoffs at them.--Psalm Numero Dos