Of course it figures that the first TNAB of the season that I could attend would be Mailbox. And it would rain. And snow. After all, what is TNAB other than a demonstration of faith. If we hike every Thursday night we're bound to get some good hikes over the course of the year. Statistics says it's so.
Kind of like Mailbox.
Mailbox is renowned for tormenting us for weeks on end before putting on a show that makes our sad devotion to the peak all worthwhile. Snow, rain, snow, rain, perfect blue skies and unicorns, rain, rain.
Early season TNAB is like that, too. It rains and snows and blows and then delivers a sunset worthy of all the pictures we can take. The red skies erase the pain and misery of the past weeks and give us hope for the next week.
Deep down we know that we'll likely be sloshing through puddles and sliding down muddy slopes, but maybe, just maybe we'll get the goods again.
Midseason the equation changes and we're far more likely to have good nights. The wiser among us will stay at home until then. For the rest of us, though, all we can say is, "I am TNAB."
