tvash = tr generating machine
saying "we opted for a run up the beckey route" though was a charitable way of saying "we parked at the big cleared space by the hairpin and so started uphill way too early and found ourselves right below the serp crack on the west face after a sustained bout of xTrEmE snowshoeing and therefore decided, ah what the hell, who wanted to do something hard in a spirited snow squall anyway?"
i remember feeling a faint twinge of The Fear at the last belay, as the rock and soaked lichen was pulsing w/ water from the melting snow - it seemed like the perfect verglas generator if only the temps had dipped a few degrees - at any rate, it cleared up for the walk down in the twilight.
what the macroscopic pic of the ant leaves blurry in the background is me sitting around drinking top shelf bourbon on the dusty ground for an hour while ansel adams squatted over every speck of dirt like some deranged, malformed sumo wrestler no worries, after a dip in the icy river i was very content, so long as our neighbors devil-dog kept its distance