The place we stopped gave us a nice view of the mountain and most of the Sun Ribbon Arete, the most likely path my dad took up the mountain (this particular climb is a popular one on Temple Crag, so I am assuming this is what he did as well).
Seeing the mountain myself was very satisfying. It answered the main question (why the hell?) by its simple beauty: It is a mountain begging to be climbed. It was also a relief to replace the image I had constructed over 30+ years with the reality. This turned out to be a very settling thing: from imagined to real. I am not sure what that is all about, but it was certainly very real. Not that I ever doubted that the mountain existed, but something about seeing it grounded me in a way that I did not at all expect.
Our viewing of the site generated some very touching moments. My uncle just kept shaking his head and saying, "I still just can't believe it." And my sons both looked at me and said "we'll never take you for granted Dad."
What hit me the most staring at the mountain is that very likely his name is written in the little climbing log at the top. I am not sure how long those things persist, but it would be so cool to have a picture of it. It would be, as it turned out, his sign-off: August 20, 1972.
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