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I am not very good at writing, but here goes.  On Friday 8/1/08, we folk that haven't been hiking is 20 some years started at the base of Crystal Mountain Ski Lodge.  We unloaded our camping gear to be pack on a mule called John.  He carried 300 lbs.  They also had a baby raccoon in camp.  They got to the site before we did and had a fire going and wood gathered.  Going up, I had trouble with the loose shale rock so we called the horse coral and they brought two horses .  I rode the pinto and was initially led by the grandmother.  My husband actually took  the reins himself and did a great job.  In a little the grandmothers horse (Darlene) acted up as it wasn't use to leading another horse.  So we switched with her husband Denny. Then everything settled down.  The horses would go a bit then stop to nibble on grass to catch their breath.  We saw an old mining camp with old mining equipment still up there.  I was glad the Denny was leading me on Little Foot and every once in a while she would try to get ahead of the horses by speeding up.  Denny explained that she wanted to get ahead of the other horses so she could eat more grass.  It was beautiful country and I was seeing it through my son's eyes.  The only thing that kind of bothered me is that the horse love to walk on the edge of the path next to the drop off.  Denny would say don't look down and of course I did.  When I am on the ground I knew it to be a long ways down, but up on a horse made it seem even longer.  I got use to it thought and it got me to where I wanted to go.  We made camp that night.  My husband pitched the tent on a slight incline and he is 6ft and had no trouble, but I being shorter was always slipping down.  He would wake me and I would crawl back up.  The next day after breakfast we made plans to go to where the boys were found and to the hut they had made to scatter ashes.  I emotionally could go to the site where they were found, and physically couldn't make it to the hut.  All the others went.  That night some of the Turns all year (back country skiers and boarder) that found them came and we had an oppertunity to thank them in person as these men did not know any of the boys.  We fed them and huged them and had a wonderful time with them.  That night My huband Tim, Meagan, my son's girlfriend, Meagan's father Ward, Katie a friend that my son built a deck for, and myself walked down the trail a bit and put the rest of his ashed in the creek that was near camp.  My son's dog logger walked through it just to stir him up a liitle to get him going on his journey. The next  five of us and one of the searchers went down a different way, which was the way I should have gone up as it was mostly path.  I keep looking at the creek and imagining my son walking beside me.  We rounded the bend and there was the most beautiful water fall I had seen in a long time.  I felt him encouraging me all the way down as I had troubled with one foot. When we got down we found a small car and wondered how we were all going to fit.  Luckly all our packs fit in the trunk.  So Ross the driver, his wife Celia and Ward piled into the front made for two.  Katie, my Husband and myself, piled into the back with Katie's standard poodle Simon.  Talk about sardines in a can.  Then Ross had to drive all of us 20 miles to the parking area were we had left our cars.  I enoyed it, but can't say I would do it again unless it is on a horse.  So that is my last tribut to my son and now I can look out at Mt Rainier and see him and his monument, from work on nice days.