Rock'n without the Roll'n

The temperatures are rising, but the snow is as stubborn as a drunkard at last call.












It just won't leave. The miniramp at McKinley was nice and dry enough though, but we still said fuck it and went to the trails, where the biggest damn rock was waiting for us.
















It looks like some Jack Hammering is about to commence, depending on the disposition of Zimmer and the rain clouds that are headed our way. Powered machines are sick. Dynamite?

She's giving way.

This mud's a mess, but it's a thawed mess.














Good things are coming.