Hiked to Three Mile Resthouse. Carried out a canteen and managed to reuinite it with its owner. He was most appreciative. Almost beat Brad out but got caught behind a mule on the last switchback.

When there is this much snow, no one is writing their name on the walls and no one is cutting switchbacks. Because the wimps who do such things stay home, or because they can't find the rocks or the shortcuts under the snow?