All throughout the climb the trees were moaning. Treen and I were startled in the pre-dawn light when a massive branch fell somewhere down the slope. The open rock slope was on the lee side so it was nicely sheltered. The ridge to the summit, though... it was not.

While the trees were stressed lower on the mountain they were being positively tortured up high. The wind was screaming down the valley from a massive high pressure system on the east side of the mountains and Mailbox was one of the last peaks before it spilled into the lowlands.

Treen and I struggled against the wind until we exited the last of the trees. Above the trees the wind was even stronger. We made it only 100 feet onto the slope below the false summit before it was too much. To be manly I could say it was too much for Treen so we turned back, but there was no way I was going to be able to continue either.

With the wind at our backs you'd think it'd be easier, but no. It pushed us downhill in unpredictable bursts of speeds. Step, step, step, stumble off the trail, recover, overcompensate and almost fall down the mountain.

On the upside, we didn't actually get blown off our feet or crushed by a falling tree. Score one for realizing the summit will be there for a long time to come and this day wasn't worth all the others.