By the time we reached the meadow the sun rose suddenly above the Nevada mountains and some of the chill went out of the atmosphere.
The meadow was flooded with snow-water.

Beyond, the mountain rose by sheer steps of rock with slides of decomposed granite between.

We avoided the under-brush as far as possible, preferring to take back and forth across the loose granite.
The wind came up as we left the meadow, grew in force as we climbed.

Some one suggested breakfast, and then there began a search for a sheltered place.

A spot sided by three bowlders away from under-brush was decided upon.