Climbing to Forrester was a bit unsettling especially at the end when I had to cross the snow chute. One misstep and down you go. I had to focus, look straight ahead and not look down. Step, place pole, step. … done. Next I had to negotiate a few more small switchbacks and a snow drift across the trail. Then at the top I looked out toward the other side of the pass, the northern side, and was covered in a recent snow fall and the trail was obliterated. Argh! All by myself I had to decide what to do. Where do I go? There is no trail. Do I give up? How do I make progress when there is no trail. Then I saw the footsteps below and on the left. I decided to follow them carefully one-step-at-a-time. I had to walk for miles on the sloped snow and get to a lower altitude somewhere near that distant forest. I knew that one misstep and I’d slide for thousands of feet. Even after I got down to a somewhat lower altitude I postholed until my feet and pants were soaked and I still couldn’t find the trail. Then while on a distant ridge I looked down and saw the trail far far below. Whew! I’m saved and in a little while I was back on the trail. At the end of the day I was totally exhausted.