It's a beautiful, clear morning up top. The high yesterday reached 18 degrees. The overnight low was 6 degrees. It was 17 degrees and clear at 7am observation. The mountain received no new precipitation and our snowfall total is down to about 5 inches. The trails are hardpack snow and ice right now. I'd encourage anyone who intends to summit to have winter boots, traction devices, and wool socks. You'll save yourself a lot of discomfort by showing up for your hike prepared.
Yesterday was another fantastic day spent moseying around camp. The sky was variable all day, foggy and socked in yesterday morning, then a bit blustery and trending towards clear in the afternoon. The clouds were dancing, telling secrets to one another and running away. An active sky is typically a good indicator that a memorable sunset is in the works. I was not disappointed. I am always excited for the evening show, but I get giddy when those first shafts of golden light cut through the thin spruces and set the trail afire. It is one of my favorite spots on the mountain, one I'll remember fondly for all my days. This is where my daily metamorphosis takes place. There is simply no way eloquent enough to measure, to grasp just what these experiences do to me. I am spoiled rotten and simply don't know how I'd get a fix like this if I didn't live in the mountains. They have worked themselves into the core of my being and are now an essential component for anything resembling a full life. Reality. Beauty beats bread.