We took the Busa, CBR, and DRZ up to Sunrise for some fun and photography.

Arthur gears up in the darkness.


Dave led the upward effort with liberal axe usage.


We met the steepest part of the climb in the black of night.


Dawn approaches the mountain as Arthur surmounts the glacier.


It took us awhile to realize that the phantom peak on the horizon was the shadow of the mountain.


Arthur crests the chute that passes through the Red Banks - the steepest part of the ascent.


"Misery Hill, at last."


Dave, Arthur, Misery Hill.


The last leg of the journey awaits.


The terrain near the summit is dominated by wind. So are we.


Dave with the summit in sight.


The summit ascent begins.


Some maginificant ice formations.


The summit at last. Arthur eagerly records the feat in his diary.


Nearing three miles high, any rest is a godsend.


...


The BBC expedition, recorded in the summit log. Arthur dedicates his climb.


Dave savors the view from the peak.


Celebration.


Libation.


Arthur, knowing that every step we've taken we have to take again.


The cloud thought it could get higher than us. We threw stones.


Return across the ice field.


Down Misery Hill.


Endless switchbacks to navigate the soft rock. Stop scrolling so fast, it took us forever.


Dave and Arthur stop for water as we approach the Red Banks.


The trail to the Notch was not fun.


So that's the vocanic part?


Approaching the Notch...


... along a windswept ridge...


... where the clouds did some pretty crazy gymnastics.


Looking up the mountain from the Notch along the length of Misery Hill.


Dave kept reading the punchlines before Arthur finished the joke. To avoid another ice axe fight, I told him to play 'spot the rock.'


Arthur checks to see if the Notch is in this edition of Found Porn.


Dave avoids the copious falling rocks as Arthur descends the hardest part of the Red Banks.


Finally done with that section, we reflect on how glad we are that we didn't ascend that way.


Glissading was most excellent. Luckily David decided to dress in warm clothes that day, opting to wear (comparatively) warm, dry jeans instead of a grass skirt.


Dave: So lovely weather we're having...


... Yep. Pristine...

Arthur

(Axe flailing) I'm coming in hot!

We broke camp and made the long hike with packs back down from Lake Helen. There was some tiredness.

Arthur secures his pack.


So confident, so eager... so naive.


Dave shares a moment with nature.


The hike to Horse Camp afforded an excellent view of what was to come. The clouds conveniently masked the hard part.


Arthur managed blisters a few hundred yards into the hike. After attending to them at the Horse Camp spring, he basically ignored the agony.


Dave an Arthur catch their breath as the Causeway begins to ascend.


Farther up, fatigue sets in. The entire day was a struggle with distance, height, and weight.


The view from the second moraine was superb.


As the snowline and base camp approach, we take more and more breathers.


Base camp at last. We hastily pitch the tent and recover from the first leg.


That flap of skin would eventually be tugged down to the bottom of Arthur's heel.


Daytime is cold and windy at altitude.


A cloud rolls in over the gulch. Lake Helen is vacant save for our tent and one other (not pictured). Seems the popular day to summit was the day we were ascending.


Lake Helen: rocks, snow, windbreaks.


The clouds hang ominously above our heroes.


Arthur and Dave eat like kings: canned soup, ravioli, and apple juice. A gold mine of heartiness.


David savors the last of his tin.


David savors Kelly Monaco in the few minutes of down time at Lake Helen.


A rainstorm that started several valleys over reaches the adjacent valley. Luckily it travelled north around the mountain.


Arthur and Dave enjoy the fantastic sunset view from Lake Helen.


Darkness falls and bed time approaches. The 3am journey to the summit will require much rest.

The arrival.


"Heh heh heh... if you freeze to death I'm so going to eat you."


A few preparations: summit passes, gear, food. The mountain looks on.


How better to acclimate to the thin Shastonian air than with some quality sporting?


Arthur unravels his kite. Not a kite kite, but a kiteboard kite. Way cooler.


There was enough wind for the kite, but not much else. The mountain beckons.


Dave tries his hand at kiting. It didn't go so well for either of us.


Wind is for suckers. We developed the Windless Carriage (patent pending).


Arthur gives it a go...


... and proceeds to exit the parking lot...


... and starts rolling down the street into town. No one told him that Mt. Shasta was built on an incline.


He's all smiles before the realization of his inability to stop sets in.


Long story short, Dave and I chase after him, let him smack into the back of the car and slow him gradually-ish. Then we tow him back to the park.


Bunny Flat: the foot of Avalanche Gulch.