One of the driest years on record. Zero precipitation in the wettest month of the year (January), and virtually nothing there after until April. Leave it to the weather Gods to dump snow and heavy weather just weeks before our planned trip. Not one storm, but several large storms in a row hit the sierras prior to our departure.

Sometimes it is best to not stay on the trail. The melted and refrozen snow was slippery and presented more work that I wanted to deal with. Here I peel off the trail and bushwhack my way up the hillside. Dawg sporting his enormous backpack crammed with eight days of food, sniffs the air. He always knows what's coming before we do.
When we hike on the kiddy trails, I've been stopped a couple times to ask what that weird leather strap is at the top of my pack. Only Millennials are daft enough to ask. I just tell them it was a device created by the cross-eyed petulant child Greta Thunberg. Designed to absorb cow farts and campfire smoke so that we are carbon neutral.

The only tricky part of our route. We're only at about 8600ft with today's route taking us over 9000, but this snow/ice field is particularly steep. Sliding off to the right would result in reaching an edge followed by a rather unfortunate drop. Those of us with two legs, and worse, size 14 boots that duel as downhill skis, must take it slow. I removed my hands from the pole straps. In the event of a fall, I will slide my hands down the pole to near the bottom and use the poles like an ice axe to arrest my momentum before it reaches a level that cannot be stopped.

Dawg on the other-hand, races across like another day at the beach.
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