The road is longer and rockier than I recall.  Truck stalled in drift. Deer rise from evening bed. Morning sun on spring snow. Musky scent of damp sage and thawing meadow.  No partner, no camera. Snow is punchy in the trees, shallow freeze.  

Is this the correct couloir?  So short from below.  Nice people kicked steps for the old man; yesterday?  Shadows bend, arcing sun, snow softens. Ice clinging to rock, nocturnal, falling, smashing, thousand of glittering crystals.

Skiing is good.

Laps on cones of corn.  Granite towers, stripped cliffs, sea floor on it's side. Which way out?  Down canyon of boulders left by ancient ice?  Heavy legs, skins slip on steep snow, up again.  Couloir to green meadow below. Singing brook, paintbrush bloom.

May 9  Emerson/Wahoo