Snowdrift Peak

I learned how to climb in the summer, usually in late July or early August, with two of my climbing buddies, Mike and Jack. They're almost one entity, MikeandJack. Dad met the two on a hike, and as we got more experience and began climbing harder and more remote peaks, we started to plan out our trips together.
Jack, an English professor who writes historical novels, now lives in Estes Park and Mike comes back for a month.
Even when I moved here, and Dad had a baby and stopped hiking, and I began chasing the 14ers, I met with them for a few hikes every summer.
It finally slowed, but never stopped, even when I had kids. It did slow to almost a crawl, once a year, and last year the twins were born and I didn't go at all.
Friday, at 2:30 a.m., I left my house to do another hike with MikeandJack (and Paul, a retired doctor who lives in Estes Park).
We climbed Snowdrift Peak, a mountain that gets climbed maybe 10 times a year in Rocky Mountain National Park. It was a long, hard, epic day, and today my body is yelling at me at times.
But it was worth it.
Why?
Here are the photos.

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