The dwarf's door
Coming around the corner of one switchback I'm again assailed by memories. One long-ago summer Steve, Marcus, Bev Beck (then Bev Michaud) and I climbed this way. It was a boisterous, laughing group, and our young legs made quick work of the steep trail. I remember turning aside at this point and looking for a 'dwarf's door' in the cliff where the dry streambed cuts an arcing path. Bev made the boys sit down and stay put while she went alone a bit further around the rocks.
Sometimes it's just easier being a guy.