My alarm went off at midnight I troop onto the back deck in thin terry bathrobe gaze up to see an oil-stain on the moon a most surreal red of cosmic intensity I did not stay though even the heeler bitch who lives here stayed
ensconced on the bed having better sense than to wander on winter first night.The season has been off the charts
what with good ice early both at the home crags in Rocky Mountain National Park let alone Montana. Hyalite had a good vibe so with Ian holding the rope I embarked upon Black Magic an Alex Lowe test-piece from 1986 a black-cleft corner to frozen spittle to dog-piss yellow curtain. "The Fiend" as he was (is still) known would have rock-climbed this in plastic boots and foot-fangs likely 5.10 one guy told me but I never really touched the rock dry-tool for me the whole way yes I wore fruit 
boots maybe I got three (4?) good pieces and then that #3 Camalot before the frozen saliva bits aaahhhh...I totally ate sh*t getting on the curtain as a massive fragment blew out and socked me. Even back-cleaning one screw I still ran out placing my last in the final vertical crux a horn blast emanating from the parking lot indicating Pete Tapley was back from his photo stint signal of concurrence, never has a bolt anchor looked so appealing. A masterpiece really on Unnamed Wall anyway Shores of Pluto looked possible but Ian had had enough so I rumbled up to Hyalite in the Mini marched up to Le Sceptre for a quick solo of this extraordinary cascade.
After a rest day at Bridger Bowl with Simone Ian and I motored out to Paradise valley hunting Succubus Mr Garrison's admonition ringing in my ears. The Jojo guide was naff as to where this was so we marched a bit not finding the blue dangler until after one. In typical fashion I hurled myself at this but it was not to be my new headlamp coming in handy on the tangled rappels. Riding out IPA clenched in hand I was resolute we were going back on my "floater" day for the red-point.
At least we knew where to go the next day but I was feeling the days preceding some quick falls after the draws went up then one all-out effort stemming betwixt the most improbable dangler and the smooth hard stone Succubus another mind-boggling Montana outing so pumped I could barely clip the screws I had set in the dagger...
Montana was wild yet back in CO Ryan had been busy siting a new dry-tool crag the first line already bolted Magic Bear Spirit Cave truly a spiritual place snow falling in a curtain just outside the cave space an ethereal shower I would pass into and from. Well-bolted I felt worse than I looked on the video Sam shot my red-point I could hardly remember.
Now the epic storm beds the Rockies in white eider-down 6-8 feet in places so I am told. So there is rain in Ouray no ice to be made an event in limbo a season adrift sans anchor.
There is simply no accounting for winter, at times...
Photos: Black magic; RCC. Succubus; RCC. Ian holding the shard that socked me on Black Magic; RCC. Mini at advanced base camp in Hyalite; RCC.
