June 28

Sleeping on a slab of granite tonight. The surrounding range always feels so much colder once the sun goes below the canyon. Rock shedding heat so quickly.

Crossed Glen Pass today with simplicity. The south side, from where we approached its walls, was dry enough to find the switchbacks exposed. It was a matter of simply walking to the top of the pass without having to play mountaineer. The north side, however, involved a nearly vertical climb down, planting my heels in miniature snow steps, one at a time, leaning in on my axe, trying to control the weight of my body against the pull of gravity. Once the slope became less steep, we all dropped onto our butts and whirred down the mountain, eventually gaining dry land again once we had dropped below 10,000. Once off the snow, we wove in and out of glacial lakes sitting like potholes in the valleys. Now, camping high again, around 10,500.

With all the snow, there is so much meltwater draining from above. Whole meadows and forests are turned sloppy with sheets of melting snow. Before the morning is done, we have already lost the dream of dry feet. We go trudging through the ooze, through the rivers, the slush and the snow, through the ice, through the mud.