In Winter, though, it's a different story. In Winter, Granite can be a dangerous place. There are several well known avalanche chutes down the south face and the snow piles up to ridiculous levels. I'd only tried it once in Winter and we came up 1,000 feet short of the summit.

After an early bit of snow and a week of below freezing temperatures Granite seemed a perfect substitute for Mailbox. There was an extremely low avalanche danger and the skies promised great views. We started up from the trailhead at 5:30am. It was 17F.

(Wondering about Treen? She didn't come. I decided anything less than 20F was too cold for her until I can get her to keep her boots on. She was not happy when Eric and I left.)

Hiking in really cold temperatures is hard for me. I don't want to roast, but I'm also not keen on freezing. It was too cold for just a light fleece, but with my heavy fleece on I was sweating profusely. Even when I could regulate the temperature of most of my body, my thighs were freezing. As we climbed, it got colder, but there was no wind. Yet.

As we entered the meadows that make Granite special we had enough daylight to turn off our headlamps and see the sky was covered in clouds in spite of the forecast. Ahead was a true Winter landscape of snow piled high and heavy on the trees. Two significant climbs lay between us and the summit. It was the first that would prove the most trouble.

We were simply booting up the mountain, but when we hit the incline to the upper basin we found it to be nothing but ice. We slid back into the brush and put on traction. I had hiking crampons and Eric had MICROspikes. I had much better traction on the ice and made my way about half way across. I could see where the ice ended and I turned to tell Eric. That's when I broke loose.

When you're practicing self arrests you usually start with your feet pointed down the hill and face down. Put the axe in and you stop. Then you get creative and start head down or on your back or you do a crazy somersault and see if you can stop yourself. I put my skills to the test by going head down on my back.

Oh. And I didn't have my axe.

I know, I know. Why didn't I have my axe? Well… Hmm. I have no good reason. I should have had it. Instead, I clawed at the ice and kicked my feet and slowed almost to a stop, then picked up speed, then stopped in some powder. In total, I slid about 20 feet. It was a great lesson. I'll be carrying my axe for the rest of the season.

Eric had no such problems crossing the ice after seeing my shining example of what not to do. Back on more level ground and better snow, we headed up the basin into one of the most beautiful sections of the trail. Big trees, big rocks, amazing views to the north, it had it all. Plus deep snow drifts. Eric had broken trail for most of the way, but I stole the lead for the final few feet and claimed victory on the summit.

We met the one guy on the mountain crazier than us. He had spent the night under the shuttered lookout. "14 hours is a long time to spend in a sleeping bag." Truth.

It didn't get down to the single digits, but it was as close as it could be. 10.0F. That's cold. So cold the power was drained from both of my camera batteries and my liquids were all semi-solid. I didn't even both trying to break my teeth on a frozen Snickers bar.

Back at the ice field, we opted to traverse high on the ridge to the north rather than risk another fall or descend the steep gully that is a very fast glissade when there's suitable snow coverage. 200 feet of extra climbing put us at the top and allowed us to come down through softer snow with plenty of anchors and a minimum of ice.

Well below the snow line, we warned others of the slick conditions. Most had no traction of any kind. Only one hiker had an axe and it was so big Gimli could have used it. We did tell everyone that the basin was worth the effort, especially since the clouds had cleared and it was nothing but blue skies.

Eric was predicting I'd fall one more time on the trip and I think he may have swept my legs to fulfill his prophecy. Either that or it was the ice, but I'm going to stick with a devious hiking partner. It's better that way.