The End

We woke up to lovely skies the morning of our decent.

Bob looks back toward the Porterfield valley while saddled by his pack as he waits for me to hurry up and get ready.

Decending down toward Virginia Lake.

The end of the line for my good 'ol Rocky boots. I purchased them when I was 17. They lasted until I was 29. 12 years - pretty good investment. They have been with me all over the place, from snowshoeing in Alaska to logging in Michigan to fishing in Wymoming. Unfortunately the soles disintegrated before they took me down off the mountain. But I don't think it would be appropriate if they breathed their last anywhere but in a place like this. Sure beats my smelly feet.