Remember this day? When Mailbox was glorious and life was good?
Well, Mailbox couldn't let that stand. We've had a series of mediocre Mailbox trips, but this was clearly a day when we'd pay for the summit.
It was lightly raining when I left the trailhead in the dark. Eric was running late so it was just me and Treen. It was raining harder as I climbed through the trees. The wind picked up when I entered the meadows. However, it didn't get really bad until I started climbing behind the rocks.
What little snow had fallen over the week had liquidated and was running down the trail in a torrent over two inches of slush over an inch of ice. It was a little less miserable in the open where the rain was closer to sleet. The wind was still blowing so we spent only as much time as required to check our time before turning for home.
Eric was waiting for me at the trees. He was smart enough to leave the summit for another day. I still haven't learned my lesson, but I figure I've done enough penance for a while. (I'm still looking forward to another spectacular day on the mountain.)