So, I made it to the top of my mountain. And, for the record, if there had been any streams in my way, I so would have forded every last one of them.
As it was I just walked along one for a while then crossed a bridge when I came to it. But look, that was the easy part. After the bridge we started going uphill--straight uphill. And then we came down. Sweet, merciful, ringlets of Jesus.....then we came down.....
I kept stopping every two or three hundred meters to say, "That's it. I'm done. Seriously. I won't step another bloody foot down this miserable, fucking hill! I! QUIT!"
Mister just stood quietly behind me, gazing serenely out at the view. When I was done, he'd hand me the water bottle and say, "Look, you can see the cars now. Next time you give up maybe we'll be able to hear them too."
Here are a few pictures (less than expertly placed because I'm lame and can't figure out a prettier way to add mulitple images to my text).
A nice flat bit at the beginning. The trail head started at the end of this valley.
Once we got to the top, we walked along this ridge to the peak, which is off in the distance there.
This is the view of Rosendal from the peak where we had our lunch.
And finally (for a bit of perspective), here's Mister and Boy the next day on the beach, and that's Malmangernuten--the monster I climbed--in the background. I'm happy to report that Mister was limping just as badly I was around that beach. Apparently, the monster is known for eating the toes of even its most smug and vainglorious of climbers on the way down. It's a wicked steep descent even for the most seasoned of hikers.