The Rematch.

One week later.  Armed with beta regarding the moderate descent on the south side of the peak and haunted by how close we got last time, Dacus and I went back to the Pfeiff. 

Eric's skill with a camera tells the story.

Early light takes the sting out of the bitchy sidehill around Pink Pine Ridge.

The East Ridge.  Our ascent line, and a worthy descent for the future.

  

Crampons on.  Chill out, don't stumble.



The top.  And the 3:00 a.m. start taking its toll. 

Joy.

Heading back toward beers and donuts at the truck. 

June effing FOURTH!

Last Saturday, Eric Dacus and I made a run for the East Ridge of the Pfeifferhorn.  I was feeling cocky, with thoughts like "if the coverage is good I bet we'll be able to ski from the summit" keeping me awake the night before.  Despite it being JUNE EFFING FOURTH, coverage was not the issue . . .

Gear pre-packed, alarm at 3:00 a.m.  A quart of peppermint tea and a protein shake.  Pick up Eric, rip up the canyon, and get moving.      


We made good time to the ridge below the peak.
 


Ultimately, though, unexpectedly firm snow and an unexpectedly steep (or was it just steep-looking?) summit ridge stole our nerve.  Our wings clipped, we skied 4000' of vertical back to the truck.



It was the right call at the time.  But the ambition remains--gotta go back.