New Years

Saturday, we packed up the old wagon and headed toward dem' hills. Four hours and several chips in the windshield later we arrived in rogers pass.
When Jo checked into the hotel, the receptionist thought that she wanted a chicken. After a couple minutes of faulty towers like moments, it was determined that in fact Jo would not be receiving a chicken, but she could check in to our room.
Anyway, I digress.

On the way up McGill shoulder.

What goes up, must come down.

The only direct sunlight of the weekend.

More on McGill.