I found some wood and started to fire and dance even though there wasn't any music.

I went to meetings, I wrote the letters, and pretty soon I wasn't alone.

Get out of the truck when you hike through this field with your surf boards.

I'm like, there's no way there's going to be waves here.

At Patagonia, we are climbers and skiers.

We are surfers and anglers.

We're activists and dreamers.

Stories of the fabric of our share culture and we're proud to sponsor the dirtbag diaries.

Visit us at Patagonia.com.

It's June.

In every June, without fail, I start to think about the southwest face of Prusac Peak.

I flip through Fred Becky's cascade Alpine Guides and I try to find another worthy objective.

I try to concentrate on the computer screen in front of me, but none of this works.

As much as I try to find something to distract me, I always know that the southwest face of Prusac Peak

and my unfinished free route are out there waiting for me.

It's what keeps me motivated in the depths of winter.

Maybe this year, I think.

Yeah, yeah, this year.

Right.

That route, as much as I would like to think otherwise, will define my climbing path.

I've done my best bits of climbing up there and I've also been racked by debilitating fear.

I've been stormed off.

...