Pete is not in the mood for snow today. I love this terrain, and maintain some enthusiasm for us up Muir Pass. On the other side, though, my force runs out. The snow becomes a patient assailant bent on slowly, unstoppably driving us mad. There is nothing but whiteness around us, no sound but the steady sloshing of our steps.
Somehow we make it down to the “the tropics,” only to be faced with our first “serious” ford: Evolution Creek. I quickly fall out of the leadership role and Pete, who knows about taking a dunk in rapids, steps in. I’m able to perform the technique he explains, but it is terrifying for me.