On Monday the e-mail was sent: "Calling all Boys... snowshoeing alert for this Sunday!"

Gradually, the regrets came in... "I have to paint my bathroom"... "It's too cold"... "I've got other (secret) plans (I'm not going to tell you about)"...

Never the less, at precisely 0634 on 1/19/03 What Kind Of Hat is That DeWallis pulled up in front of "g's" home; they loaded up his gear in the dark. A quick stop at Exit 17 to pick up Iron Man Al was followed by a pit stop at Bagels R Us. With nightly artic air crushing temperatures into the -20s... it was already a pleasant and balmy 1-degree. The Boys were thrilled that www.weather.com had forecasted 6-degrees by noon.

It would take about 100 minutes to drive to Keene, in the heart of the Adirondack High Peak Region. This gave the 6-Degree Snowshoe Club just enough time to question the saneness of hiking in such frigid weather. It could be dramatically colder if there was wind and a chill factor. Moreover, there was the silly-willy-nervous talk about the fact that DeWallis and Al had never snowshoed a summit, the fact that DeWallis didn't even have snowshoes, and "g" had only summitted two minor peaks the previous winter.

The 6-Degree-ers pulled into Keene and the Mountaineer's full parking lot at 0850. What Kind of Hat rented some cool, slick-looking Eclipse snowshoes... Iron Man picked up an $89 belly pack... "g" bought an insulated bag (so, this time his Cliff Bars wouldn't freeze) and a protective pouch for packing his new crampons.

Above L: At the Rooster Comb Trail Head... the Boys gear up; it's 2-degrees.
Above M: Iron Al is clearly unnerved about what he's gotten himself into.
Above R: Dewallis - dwarfed by goggle-mania.

The 6-Degree-ers had personal agendas. What Kind of Hat, a true adventurist, had his eye on snowshoeing since "g's" first solo climb up Rooster Comb the previous winter. However, he couldn't shake the fear of freezing and losing a toe (or two) to frostbite in pursuit of the summit. They all warmed up a bit with laughter when DeWallis naively asked the salesperson at the Mountaineer, " I take a size 10-1/2 snowshoe."

Iron Al confessed he had a mere two hours of sleep. He was quite anxious about the climb. He considered canceling last minute but didn't think he could bare the relentless ribbing from "g". To sweeten the anticipated pain of hiking into the unknown, Al purchased a new belly pack which he wore on the trail for exactly 58 seconds... "You know... this pack doesn't feel so good on my lower back."

"g" was ready to hike (more or less). His snowshoes were calling, "Climb... climb." Anticipating ice at the summit he was prepared to don his new strap-on crampons. Using new gear excited "g". If he climbed with razor sharp, pointy crampons without piercing his leg (or worse, his $200 Gortex pants) the trip would be a gear-success.

And they were off!