We woke to more clear skies and the coldest morning yet. Frost had formed all over the tent fly and I bundled up while starting the stove for a hot breakfast. When the first fuel bottle ran out, I had to use a trekking pole to pry the second free of the snow walls of our vestibule pit.

Later, I spent 5 minutes just working to free my ice axe from the snow mound I'd stuck it in the night before. Now we could get to work trying to free the myriad anchors and guy lines. The sun was slow to shine on our efforts and the tents were nearly free by the time the first rays hit our site. Meanwhile, the ranger staying at the propane fueled cabin above came down with a steaming cup of coffee. As we worked, he casually discussed using hot water from our stoves to free the anchors. Since we'd just ran out of fuel, we glared at him with a look that must have been clear: "Go away or pick up a shovel and help out."

By 8 am we were packed and ready to descend. Our route back was the same that we'd taken two days to climb up. Acclimated, rested and with lighter packs, our descent would only take 3 hours.

We said our goodbyes to the watchful guardian, Little Tacoma, then headed down the glacier with a short diversionary ascent up Curtis Ridge before resuming out downhill trend. Once we worked our way back down to the clouds, we un-roped for the last time and took off downhill at our own paces.

After regrouping for a final water stop where the White River emerged from under the spring snow, we picked up the pace and confused a GPS into believing we were moving over 4 mph. Before long we'd reached the parking lot again and happily threw down our packs and removed our heavy boots.