I'm climbing Mount Hood (but nothing like the real mountain) with a large group. The first half of the climb is easy going, in the woods, and then we stop at a resort-type place high on the mountain, which is accessible by road. The place is like a lodge or a pub, and we have a nice sit-down dinner.

Most of the group bails from the climb at that point, and deride us a little for being so crazy to continue. "Let's go guys," I say, "this mountain isn't going to climb itself!"

We go out to this deck and change clothes. Some of my clothes are wet or something, so my choices are reduced, and I end up with my classic red climbing shirt and some red pants.

The group is down to four of us, including Simon and two other unidentified climbers. I realize that I forgot my headlamp, and it is the middle of the night, so I have to follow close to the others so that I can see. No worries, I think, the sun will come up in... four or five hours.

The mountain has a lot of gullies, which randomly turn into dangerous avalanches of mud and debris. Scary!

There are other climbers besides my group, and everyone stops at this impasse, where there is a rock we need to climb with lot of exposure. I jump right on it, reach up to a knob, and pull myself up without any difficulty. Everybody else watches.