After a mellow morning cranking in the hot sun, we're 300 feet up with a great view all around us from the top of a pillar. Christian is feeling comfortable with the altitude and looks for more. A variety of "How High?" jokes seem appropriate. Just then, Lawrence notices rain on the horizon and ponders. The wind picks up a little and windbreakers and fleece come out of packs. Lawrence, mountain man, carries on in his cotton tee. Although we're two pitches up, we have a short traverse and then two more pitches to go.
	Just after the short traverse, we look around. Terror comes in small doses as glimpses to the left and glimpses to the right reveal relentless thunderstoms circling the dome. Lawrence counts seconds from flash to boom. One mile and closing. Time to move. Raindrops dust us, and Lawrence sprints the next pitch, running it out almost to the belay. Karl, following with his own rack to get used to the weight, realizes while cleaning that he has accumulated the makings of a pretty good lightning rod. Christian climbs gingerly away to distance himself from the upcoming barbeque. Karl ponders bank accounts and seconds-from-flash, but decides not to ditch the rack.
A short but stressful time later, we hip belay from the false summit over to the true dome, and are treated to a truly amazing sight. Thunderstorms and lightning all around, sunshine overhead. Gradually we realize that Wa-mello Dome has parted the airflows around us. We are in the clear.
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