Drive-by weather occurence. The temp was 52, but the precipitation was snow, melting on contact, with a mix of fog.

Unfortunate young canyon jay, and apparently oblivious automobile owner! 

This was a wakeup shot from campsite #1. 

This was the nicest campfire I've ever started and it was scarily easy. No accelerant used! 

This was my first morning on vacation. I flew into Jackson. But the next morning, I drove over Teton Pass into Victor, Idaho to the General Market cafe for an organic chorizo, and then to the Mike Harris campground for a quiet spot to eat it and breathe in all the spring mountain scents. I knew this would be a good trip because the place I chose for my breakfast picnic, an empty camping spot, I found 3 nice hunks of dried split wood that would later serve for a campfire. 

Trail to Paintbrush Canyon. 

The 'stream' of meltwater into upper Jenny Lake. A testament to the snow levels this winter. The lake level was 'normal', which I've never seen. Jackson lake, a little further north, has a small dam, and this was the first trip in which I've seen Jackson Lake's water level to near the top of the dam. In 2004, it was so low that the water level ended 50 or so feet before even reaching the dam.  

Jenny Lake on Paintbrush Canyon trail. 

The old Drying of the Wet Feet, Socks, and Boots ritual. I woke up with a splotchy sunburn still evident on the tops of my hands. 

Turnaround point on Paintbrush Canyon. I wasn't able to get as high as Holly Lake (about 8500 feet?), because the snow was thick and slushy, and because there was significant treefall. I didn't think I'd need the Yak Trax shoe ice/snow grippers today, so I was hiking with just the boots and one hiking pole. But the temp was in the 70s, and it felt extremely hot. The snowpack, however, was slushy on the top, and hard frozen a few inches deeper, because the previous day's slush would refreeze overnight. So, when walking in this snow, I squished through the top layer, soaking boots and socks, and then slip on the frozen underlayer. It was exhausting. That might have been doable for a while longer, but there was so much treefall, due to heavy snows this winter, that it seemed every 5 mintues I was navigating up and over some logjam or other. This one wasn't so bad, but seemed like a good breakpoint - and a dry place to sit! 

On Rendezvous Mountain. 

I took the old aerial tram in Teton Village up to the top of Rendezvous Mountain to try and hike down Garnet (aka Granite, a misnomer for the basalt formation) Canyon. The snows were pretty thick down to about 8,000 feet. I was starting my hike at 10,400 feet. The first 50 feet or so were snow-free. I was able to follow the trail via familiarity and map use for about 2 miles, but it was increasingly difficult, because the trail moves along the North side of the mountain, which melts slower than better exposures. I was post-holing up to my butt. I also had my new Leki trekking poles (read "canes"), and Yak Trax attached to my hiking shoes. The only things I really needed were snowshoes and a gps unit, because I was having difficulty determining the trail location, because all ground surfaces were so beautifully white. There were also a number of snow corniches, or overhangs, that I didn't want to try. So, after reaching an open area in which I wasn't sure of the next direction, I turned back. I took this shot when I decided to turn back, turning to look at my foot steps. Another reason I didn't continue: no other footsteps to confirm trail location. This section was nice and firm, but I really need the shoe grips and the poles to get back up the 2 miles or so that I'd begun hiking down. That was the most difficult hiking I've ever done. After I got back up to the top, I encountered the afternoon paragliders.
 

Checking the lines. I was asking the guys lots of questions - about the weight of the packs, wind direction, what landings are like, how long they can stay afloat, steering difficulty, etc., and this one suggested I try jumping with them in tandem. They all offer tandem jumps in the mornings when the Westward breeze is practically guaranteed. I did that the next day, but since I would be taking a tram up a mountain and jumping off it strapped onto someone, I didn't bring my pack or camera. With my luck, I would have done something clutzy with my new camera.

Getting the chute ready. 

Here the guys have decided the wind is good so they're suiting up to protect from cold elevation air when soaring.