The views are great heading up the North side of Death. Across the canyon, above where we camped the night, is a compact hanging valley, a cirque. The cirque holds a tarn delicately above the canyon floor. The water hangs at the edge of a cliff, small rivulets escaping as waterfalls. An islet sits upon the cliff, surrounded by water, one side the abyss.
Some pines grow there, sparse on the rocky ground.
I want to sit, my back to a pine, and listen to the water fall. The route to that spot looks treacherous but possible. We ascend the ridge and break for lunch. We are on the other side now and can see into the wide valley that holds Jackson Hole. Snow begins to appear on the North side of the ridge.