The trees are in bud, green leaves are unfurling, robins are here; but winter is hanging on in the high country. People are skiing big lines, the last of the winter ice climbs are weeping from the rockwalls and collapsing in jumbles or broken blue blocks. I've been scheming with my Salt Lake City buddies, Blitz and Billy, to get some alpine climbing in before winter left. We dreamed of the Emperor Face on Mt Robson, the boys got the time, arranged the flights. The weather man convinced me that we'd only be given time enough for Mt Temple.