The weather was a wild rollercoaster—terrible and spectacular, all depending on the elevation. The ride began in a bone-chilling fog that felt like it might never lift. But then came Sierra, the mountain with attitude. She and I struck a deal: she’d let me climb her quiet backside if I promised to descend her more daring front side. Deal struck. At the summit, it was like stepping into another world—warm sunshine and clear blue skies, a reward for the effort. But, descending back into the fog was like diving headfirst into a freezer. The chill hit hard as we plunged into 45°F and that thick, ghostly mist. Mount Hamilton was a beauty, rising above the clouds with its perfect weather waiting at the top. But the route planner, with their devilish sense of humor, had more in store. After the descent, they threw us into the pain cave with climbs up San Felipe and Metcalf, and just for fun, capped it off with those brutal 10% grades on Silver Creek. By the end of the day, it was 82 miles, 10,000 feet of climbing, and a full buffet of weather moods. A tough, gorgeous, and slightly masochistic day—just how we like it!