We tackled one of the great challenges of the mountain, the huge overhang just above Base Camp A. This time we stuck relics in as handholds (we knew they'd be good for something).

Not much eventful to the next obstacle, a sheer rock face. By will and luck, we made it.

We made Base Camp B, which was right below the Dreaded Petunia Patch. This year, with the ghost's help, we had no trouble securing a line across the rock face, and we all climbed up.

I suffered an injury, and Trotsky began reading Chekhov to me. This worked tremendously well; he threatened to keep it up unless I got better right away.

A little later on, Trotsky tried to speak to some of the HOMPs. He tried every language in his phrasebook, but their speech consists entirely of syllables that sound like laughter.

Most of us hung together pretty well. Megan, however, shit her pants. To all appearances, that is. Mount Pattee was a bit wet today, and what with her sitting on the cliff face and everything, you can understand how it looked. Especially on yellow sweat pants.

From the Petunia Patch, it was pretty smooth sailing for awhile. But then came the greatest obstacle of all. First, a sheer rock face that stretches on interminably. Then, a natural formation that goes horizontal, and then vertical, and then horizontal, and then vertical, and then horizontal...

We sent Damon up the rock face. He did a marvelous job, too, and he secured a line for us.

Then it was just a problem of climbing the rope to the top. I sat on the peak with Damon. While we were up there, we missed a great dramatic unveiling. A Stalinist agent was discovered, Andy, and eradicated by Abner, a.k.a. the Armenian Strangler. But the rest of us made it up.

All in all not a bad climb. Only one serious injury and one fatality (well, two, but only one sustained from the climb).

Again, the newsletter write-up was a condensed version of my journal. I'll point out two things. First, that I'd omitted participant Brian Tepper from my journal entry, and second, that I like the way the newsletter write-up begins ("Daring the frightening, horizontal heights of the Campus Mall, a brave expedition made it to the Twin Peaks of Mount Pattee, despite mud, broken legs, and Chekhov") and ends: "One giant step for a peaceful, militaristic state. One small step for a giant."