The Triplets. In early November Jim Nelson and I climbed the left gully on the north face of the Triplets near Cascade Pass in winter-like conditions. We underestimated it, started after first light and packed no bivy gear. The climb offered all the delights that endear alpine climbing to us: thin ice and powder snow over rotten or featureless rock, indifferent protection, scary moves, benighted descent. After hurried down-climbing through the dusk, just when I had resigned myself to spending the night huddled on a ledge, Nelson looped a rappel sling through a hole he found by running his fingers over the rock like a blind man; we were down.

James Martin