Last night I got an e-mail from my friend Kyle. He mentioned his disgust with the lack of dedication in the Wasatch BBQing scene and explained how he was going to bring things to the next level. So today, Jen and I soloed the first two pitches of the Great White Icicle and pulled onto the large ledge where Kyle and several friends had set up a full-size, charcoal grill and were well on their way to setting new standards in alpine barbecuing. We heckled the parties above without mercy after they managed to turn two pitches of easy ice into four and cross their ropes into a very impressive tangle spiderweb. And Zac, if you need a witness to confirm that Britney owes you $100 for eating the burnt-to-a-crisp brat off her crampon, just let me know. I'll testify.
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