Monday

          Up and at-em.  It is 7:00AM.  Anxiousness, born of an anticipated difficult day, quickly rouses me.  As I prepared my morning meal of cream of wheat with raisins topped with the last of the syrup, I watched with concerned interest the sun playing hop scotch with the clouds.

          Not having the sled to split the load and not wanting to make two trips to the ridge top, it is imperative that every bit of weight can be shed and this means packing dry.  Especially the tent.  As the sun sheds it's warmth on the snow in patchy intensity, I drag the tent to the sun's drying rays.

          The question that comes to mind is.  "even with most of the food and fuel consumed, could I load everything in the amazing "expando" pack?  And, if the feat was accomplished, how was I, by now a very lean 44 year old, going to lift it, no less carry it on skis up a formidable slope and down a no less formidable back side?"

          Every few minutes scratching my head in bewilderment, bit by bit, the three dimensional puzzle came together.  By noon, everything an expedition of 12 Cadillac campers ever needed was loaded into the monster pack.

          Grabbing the handhold at the top of the pack with my left hand, with a spurt of adrenaline, employing the three step hoist system from snow to right knee to right shoulder; and then, finally, giving a mighty heave to bounce it up and onto the back, I did it.  Once on and stabilized it wasn't to bad, for a Jack Ass that is!

          Traversing up was difficult, fighting trees and limbs.  The fresh powder up to my knees and thighs made it all but impossible.  At times the slope was so steep and the powder deep,  I was shoulder deep on the uphill side and knee deep on the downhill side.  The snow was soft and cascaded down like loose Styrofoam balls from under my skis.  Each forward reach of the ski required careful packing of the snow before the weight of my burdened body could be moved upon it, a slow motion glide, supported by one trembling leg at a time, a tier at a time.  Chilled seat oozing from my face, mingles with the icy crystals tumbling off brushed limbs, stabbed my face with cold pain and hindered my focused concentration on preventing that one mistake which would propel me down between the trees, head first.

          The trip down seemed so short.  The trip up so painfully long.  An hour of this single minded effort produced the ridge top.  Tying the useless sled as low as I could on the back of the pack, I headed down the other side.  Attempting to follow the summer trail marked by aluminum squares and blazes on the trees, I found myself substantially lower than where I had come in, and in dense young growth.  Low branches sweeping the deep snow hindered my progress, and force me, time and gain, to kneel on the skis and to bring the pack down and over my head, tunneling under the limbs.  Progress was slow.  The pack weighed heavily upon my mind and body.

          the descent seemed interminable.  With one fall for the day, relief seeped through me as the base of Woodpecker ridge finally came into view.  Exhaustion gripped me as I set about the ritual of preparing my camp.  I took a leisurely pace.

           Today was difficult.  I'm glad it is over.

           Tomorrow - home!