Some of you may ask, what does a one pound hunk of fruitcake (a Christmas present from my sister) have to do with Michael? Well almost 30 years ago to the day, Michael had finished visiting his family in Boston and so headed out for a week of ice climbing in New Hampshire with Hock and Mike Brochu. Given the rudimentary gear their totals were pretty good: soloed Cinema Gully twice, Pinnacle and Damnation Gullies in Huntington Ravine, Dracula-Chia-Pegasus at Frankenstein Cliff, and the Black Dike on Cannon.
The latter climb, completed after dark was a relatively early repeat, of the now classic climb. Done in good style - Hock wielding a piolet and carrying his Chouinard alpine hammer as a third tool - still was a stretch for the boys. Freezing cold, topping out without having food or drink all day, we broke out the water bottles (frozen shut) and the food. Michael Franklin grabbed the Claxton fruitcake, took a huge bite, and I said "the wrappers are still on," and he said, "I know that you A-hole but its too F-ing cold too peel it off, and I am starved."
Instead of the customary rap back to the sacs, the evening concluded with a bushwhack to the car, only to find that the keys were in the sac at the base of the route ... it was a long day (and night).
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