I’d racked up 2500ft during a single afternoon, during an inspection mission, not even aiming for a goal, while hungover like Keith Richards after 1969’s Altamont Anarchy. An El Cap day wasn’t ambitious enough. But what was the next milestone? There isn’t much in the way of more massive walls against which to measure oneself, so my mind harkened back to the legends of Mike Reardon: The Mile Day. That was the prize in mind.