"I fucking hate suncups!" was blurted out nearly every time one of us first reached a suncup rittled snowfield. Walking on them isn't exactly conducive to forward mobility, they usually elicit either complete focus on how you're taking each step and where you're landing on your foot, or the flailing of arms trying to not crash down with 8 days of food in your pack. Snow wasn't falling to the ground, it's been on the ground since winter now constantly thawing and freezing. It's a very dynamic state of water that will take some getting used to. For the suncup form of snow I've learned to step onto them, rather than in them.

We ran across Napoleon & Red Cross near lunch and exploded our packs atop a pass and chatted. Napoleon, from New Orleans, had some inspirational and some sad stories. He was home during hurricane Katrina and watched the whole city crumble over the lack of relief and infrastructure from the field of the Louisiana Superdome. Through a long struggle he found is way to the Appalachian Trail, which was close to where his mother relocated after the storm. He said that these trails, "Churn you up and spit you out on the other side in your purest form."

Today was a learning experience for Wings, Gofar, and I. One of those "daily" rain/lightning storms I heard came over us without us knowing while descending into a valley. Our tents pitched quick to avoid getting wet, while contemplating whether we should continue to a nicer campsite further on. We did move on after arguing through our tents and peaking out occasionally for blue sky. I thought it was worth it. I made a campfire to dry our shoes and socks off. Talking with the other two, it sounds like they aren't doing all the San Juans, and are likely taking the Creede Cutoff route.