3-15-2013

I felt privileged to see the river like this, in all its wild glory, snowbound Rockbound Valley in primeval trappings. I continued upstream, hoping for a fresh log crossing or miracle snow bridge, but mostly just for the view. I skied past where Leland Creek came in from the west down the raging falls, now overflowing its frothing sluice, its booming resonance filling the valley. And then Phipps Creek I crossed on my side, with some wandering, and a long, fat log crossing. And here above that confluence is where I most hoped for a snow bridge, since the net flow had now been reduced two sizable creeks worth in the last half mile I had climbed. In summers past, I had crossed on boulders here in pretty high water, so maybe it would hold snow.