Saturday morning and the snowpack is lying to me again

Bumped into the same rain crust on the way up that I'd already talked myself out of trusting yesterday. It's 9:30 on a Saturday and someone in town is making pancakes while I'm poking the snow with a pole and having a one-sided argument about stability. Same story every spring — you never get closure, you just get a season where the snow dies a little differently each week.