Mather Pass has one defining characteristic: a 15-foot wall of snow at the apex that hikers must climb straight up and over, with a very long and steep drop waiting if you fall. My heart rose to my throat as stepped into boot tracks that became smaller and smaller as I ascended, until there were no tracks left. Tossing my ice axe and trekking pole onto the ledge above, I breathlessly scrambled onto the relatively flat crest to the sound of clapping from a group taking a snack break at the top. They had come up the north side of the pass, and while I watched them one by one begin to descend the precarious snow wall I was grateful to have gone up the south side instead of down.
Hiking down into the Palisade Valley was like entering a frozen wonderland at the very edge of spring. Waterfalls sprang from every direction, flowing into two large lakes half covered in ice and half in deep blue glass. We ran into my old pal Bubblewrap’s group as they lazed on a rock in the sun and spotted several furry marmots on our way out of the paradisaical valley, following a trail that often disappeared under several inches of water. Navigating over and under fallen trees, we continued north and set up camp at the edge of a grassy meadow beneath granite spires.
Russell on the Road 