Outta town, briefly

My good friend and climbing buddy talked me into going out on real rocks for a bit today. We drove about forty miles east of Seattle, into the foothills of the Cascade Mountains, to a climbing area known as the Far Side of Exit 38, off I-90. We meandered about on climber trails that have proliferated over the past several years, doubling the approach in time and distance since we couldn't remember the exact path. I'd only been that way once, but even though my friend had been more recently, the scenery looked different with more brush, so she really couldn't take the rap for getting us misdirected. Her dog, as it turned out, always headed in the right direction, and heavily marked the trail, like Hansel and Gretal leaving bread crumbs... We ended up with less time to climb, but scampered up a few pitches in lovely cool breezy weather.
Her dog, not trusting us, continued to blaze a trail with urine all the way back to the car.