Bill and I climbed Mt. Shasta in the summer of 1969. We didn't plan well and went from sea level to 11000 ft in a few hours and made camp on the glacier.  A cold wind came up, and our poor little stove could barely do anything and the stew never got warm, much less cook. Then the snow we camped on froze solid so we slept on a slab of ice all night with no tent and almost no insulation underneath. After a difficult night, I asked Bill to take his pulse before he even budged. It was 120 so I knew how tough it was going to be for him to get to the over 14000 ft summit. But being Bill, he carried on and we made it. On the way down, the lower we got the stronger and happier he was, and ran about half the way down.

On skiing, Bill and I essentially started from zero at Alpine Meadows in 1968 I believe. I had a pair of Toni Sailers that were too long so I sold them to Bill. I'd have to say we both learned pretty well and I am still skiing. An interesting ski trip we had together was a week at Sun Valley Idaho. Being poor grad students we could not afford any fancy lodging, so we took a tent and camped in a meadow every night and got up early so nobody would see us. After skiing every day, we would spend the evening in the lobby of a nice hotel, get something to eat and hang out. When everyone else headed off to a warm cozy room, Bill and I would get into a cold car and drive off into the woods. That was the hard part.

I have a lot more stories about Bill, including meeting his parents and having Thanksgiving dinner at their house. A bunch of flying stories, with aerobatics in a citabria, practicing instrument flying in a thunderstorm, ice skating, etc. but that's for another time.

Al