We've reached the end.  It's with mixed emotions that Bryan and I have decided that this will be the final episode of this experiment in grassroots storytelling. It's been an incredible adventure for us. The athletes left us inspired.  The community reaction humbled us.  Thank you.  A few things I will never forget:Spending New Years Eve in a no name town on Vancouver island inside Jonaven's airstream. Rain pelted the aluminum.  Watching the cable cam first take flight. The resulting look of glee on Matt's face. Sunset at the mouth of the Klamath. Realizing that I still have the same enthusiasm for traveling the American West as I did when I was 21. Watching the light fade from the top of Cheop's. I could go on and on.  It has been a memorable experience. Thanks for watching.   

Dawn breaks on Mount Rainier and it's time for the 6,000-foot climb from base camp to the summit. This is the chance for Greg Hill to summit the mountain that launched him on his skiing career.  Now, if only the weather will window will hold long enough.

Craig and Jarem launch off on Lurking Fear. If they are successful this will be the first all disabled ascent of Yosemite's iconic El Capitan and a landmark achievement in Craig's climbing career.  Hang on.

Rising 14,000 feet above sea level, Mount Rainier is where many aspiring mountaineers go to test their skills. Crevasses, hanging glaciers, weather that's not always predictable. At 19, Greg had the climbing bug and set his sights on Rainier. But summiting is not a gimme by any means. When he first saw Rainier, Greg "saw an amazing mountain that scared the crap out of me. There was a lot of fear but no understanding." After years spent honing skills in the mountains, Greg views Rainier as a mountain of potential. Now, he's set his sights on two routes in two days.

"Am I disaster prone?" asks Ryan Peterson. After nine days on the river, the search for the Ghost Run isn't going well. We see fish, but catching them is a different story. We have a big foot encounter. A big low is screaming towards the coast. The water is rising and this last effort in terrible weather might make or break Ryan's goal for the season.  Ryan is going to give it his all.

The season is coming to a close in Squamish. Thomo's attempts on The Method (v12) are numbered before setting out on another year of road tripping across North America.  

Winter came early and shut down Kevin and Jeremy's work in the burn.  The coldest season overstayed its welcome well into May. By the time the ground had dried enough to return to work, the access road into the forest suddenly sprouted a gate with a lock.  With a little ingenuity, the boys gained access and got back after it.  After eight months of shaping, honing, and waiting, it is about to go down.

Spread across Greg Hill's downstairs man cave are a series of maps stitched together. The Purcells. Monashees. Selkirks. Adamants. Valhallas. British Columbia's ranges extend outward from the hub of Revelstoke. Meticulous pencil lines are drawn to mark each route traveled, each successful peak.  When we saw it, we wondered what we had just signed up for.  After his successful two million vertical feet year, Greg had another idea altogether.  This season, Greg wanted to return to the mountain where his career began when he was 18 years old -- Mount Rainier. 

"The LIst is this ongoing process in my head," says climber Craig DeMartino. Each season, his mind wanders over past climbs. They bubble to the surface and Craig makes it a point to go out and repeat them, but over the years a funny thing happened. The List became less about looking backward then as a means for looking forward. Craig climbs as hard, if not harder than he did before his accident and amputation, so it would only make sense that he would add new, more challenging routes to The List. For traditional climbers, El Capitan is near the top of every tick list.

“It’s sort of a cliché, but there is this fishing joke that says – there is only one other sensation that can compare,” says Ryan Peterson. “I’ll leave it at that.” After days without landing a fish and living on the river, our fishing lives are as active as e local night life. The gang starts to wonder if landing one of these ghost run steelheads will ever happen. Everywhere there are signs of the fish, but when it comes to taking a fly, they remain elusive. We follow one California’s wildest rivers down to the mouth and back again. 

In 2010, Greg Hill achieved the unthinkable. He ski toured two million vertical feet. He'd spent the prior decade prior shaping his body into a powder slaying weapon, sharpening his understanding of British Columbia's sometimes dangerous snow pack and refining his mountain sense in order to travel safely, even on days when the avalanche danger crept into the red. Or as Greg puts it, "I used to be a mountain boy, but now I can grow a pretty decent mustache and I think of myself as a mountain man." When he crossed the mark on the final day of 2010, everyone was curious– what's next? Three million?  Maybe not, but Greg has a few ideas.