Johnny Wet Shorts arrived early and we set off for Rocky Butte against growing rain and wind from the north. Whoever said this wasn’t pleasant was making shit up. Despite efforts to summon a third original, the heroic endeavor fell to just two. The hill loomed like something from Mordor. The corkscrew tunnel and steep ridge held us in check. The stone step portage to the castle-top was the last uphill push. All downhill from there. Truly thought there was a different way down., but I guess it’s a retrace. Down through NE to Zulu’s house, then over to the best soak ever. Almost a full sandwich in the changing area, but, as you know, I’ll never be her beast of burden. The Chairman is 40 minutes in already, with depleted social skills to match. He leaves the tub early to chase the changing birds and gather at the Nest. We finish off the post-heroic soak and put as many dry clothes on as we have. No rain now, so it is plenty pleasant. Kong and Laborde have cornered the Cash Couch with beer backs and habanero vodka. B*****heart arrives and all talk turns to Stiffany. Swift Bar calls Kong, but for me it is over. I ride Owen to 42nd and then catch the 75 line at Hollywood to make time. 12:08 is almost midnight, so all is well. Great climb. Great soak. Great night.