SHASTA in Ten Easy Steps, Part II.

When last we left our heroes, they were skinning toward tree line and shaking their heads in disbelief of the beauty of the Hotlum-Wintun Ridge . . .

Step 5: Keep skinning. Ignore the dark clouds.

Hmmm. Time to put my ski pants on. . .

Step 6: Make camp on a pile of pumice at about 9000'. Marvel at the fact that Shasta casts a shadow on the earth as the sun goes down.

Home for about seven hours.

Yep, that's the shadow of Mt. Shasta on Eastern California.

Step 7: Wake up at 2:30 a.m., drink a protein shake, and start walking uphill. Quickly ditch the idea of climbing without headlamps and just keep putting one foot in front of the other. Watch the sun rise and keep putting one foot in front of the other. Realize that your sense of distance and scale is totally fooked, 'cuz is everything is farther and higher than you think. And keep putting one foot in front of the other. Then, finally, top out at 14,162'.

Sunrise halfway up the Hottun snowfield.

About four feet to the left of this was a dead dog. On the summit of Mt. Shasta. I swear to God.

Step 8: Eat some ginger snaps and almonds, snap some dorky pictures, chat about the oddness of the dead dog, and then click into your skis. Ahhhhhh . . . now we're talking . . .

Steep sweetness on the headwall of the Wintun Glacier. Dr. Off the Couch in the gut.

The smooooov-ness of the Hottun snowfield. Soul-crushingly long to climb. Soul nourishing on the way down. Dr. Off the Couch is the speck just above the pumice fields, just left of center. Yeah, waaaaaaaay down there.

Step 9: After skiing 5000' of sweetness -- pure corn-like sweetness -- glide back into camp and pack up.

Dr. Off the Couch: 'nuff said.

Step 10: While descending below 9000', practice the lost art of back-seat skiing with a heavy pack on overcooked snow. Turn around, realize that you were on the summit less than two hours ago, and shake you head in disbelief of an unmitigated success.

Goddamn. We did it.