When I drive through Mount Adams, there’s only one thing that comes to mind. I couldn’t tell you a thing about the bars, restaurants, real estate, shops or where to find parking, but, damn, I know the perch of that parking lot. “Shout it right now. You’re a 10, Hannah Mae McCartney. We’re not leaving until you do. I swear I will get in my car and leave you here if you don’t.” I remember wondering to myself if this scenario could possibly be any more corny.