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The ridge line held snow through July this year, and the trail crew rerouted the switchbacks twice before the crossing finally opened. We carried sixteen days of food across three passes, resupplying nothing, trusting the caches we had set back in June.
By the ninth day the treeline was a memory. What replaced it was better: open granite, marmots working the boulder fields, and a silence that made every footstep sound deliberate.
Field notes, day fourteen of sixteen