While everybody in the group survived and Lees ultimately recouped her honor by reaching the summit of St. Helens on another trip, her first foray onto a major peak was not something one would include on a resume. Undaunted, "I've kept climbing ever since," she said.

Today, she shares chief guide duties at Exum with Jack Turner and Dave Carman, 21 years after she started guiding with the company. She can't quite remember how many times she has been up the 13,770-foot high Grand Teton. "I'm not one of those guides who keeps track, but it's got to be around 200 times," she said.

Born in upstate New York, Lees grew up in Maryland before heading to the West Coast for college. She graduated with degrees in "dirt and rocks," she said - soils and geology - but took a year and a half off during school to concentrate on climbing. She climbed more right after school, and then began looking for contract work.

"I didn't want a job where I worked 50 weeks with two-week vacation," she said. Lees worked with the Forest Service in Alaska, in the oil patch as a geologist analyzing drilling chips and mud samples, and in Salt Lake City.

Climbing one summer in Canada's Bugaboos, she met her husband to be, Rick Wyatt, now also an Exum Guide and the first person to ski the Grand Teton on telemark gear.

With a reputation as a rock climber - she was known as "5.11 Evelyn," acknowledging her mastery of the most difficult grade at the time - she fit into the Exum scene, said co-owner Al Read. Lightweight with respect to gravity, one of her first guiding assignments was to take a 250-pound man up the Exum Ridge. "She did so with ultra competence," Read said, "a trait which has continued throughout her career."

As an Exum guide, Lees said safety is number one. "Making sure those people have a good time" comes second. Lees said she begins at basic and intermediate courses observing clients to appraise how fit, scared and capable they are. All manner of folk tie onto her rope. "Some are jokers and laugh a lot some are interested in natural history," she said. Lees said she is the type of guide who encourages her clients. "You get a lot of satisfaction from the people who didn't think they could do it," she said.

Lees said she only cracks the whip when there's a safety issue. When that scenario comes into play, Lees said she becomes specific and to the point. With three or four clients on a typical climb, Lees said she remembers the tough ascents best. "All of a sudden you have to go hard," because of weather or some unforeseen circumstance, she said.

When Lees isn't guiding for Exum, she works in the winter as an avalanche forecaster for the Forest Service in Salt Lake City. She picked up her skills when Wyatt was the forecaster for the state department of transportation. For years, she tagged along as he toured the backcountry to confirm his predictions and to make observations as he decided whether the roads in Little and Big Cottonwood canyons were safe for those traveling to the area's major ski resorts.

"All I did was follow Rick around and ski in the backcountry," Lees said.

Another mentor was Tom Kimbrough, a former Grand Teton National Park climbing ranger who also is a Wasatch avalanche forecaster. "Most people in the avalanche world are lucky if they get one mentor," she said. "I had two."

On busy winter days when she's assigned to the office, Lees is up at 3 a.m., at work by 4 a.m. to read the weather and snowfall reports. The challenge is assimilating massive amounts of information, recognizing a pattern and then making predictions about what slopes facing what direction at what altitude are most dangerous. By 6:30 or 7 a.m. she's recording the forecast, publishing it on the Web and doing three radio spots.

"The big thing is this incredible time crunch," she said. "By 8:30 you're just limp. You've used up a huge amount of energy." Lees said she enjoys the challenge. "It's non-stop learning," she said.

Today, Lees and Wyatt continue their guiding while raising daughter Torrey, 9 and son Hayden, 8. Since both work seasonal jobs, they get six to eight weeks a year to just be parents. In the work season, however, life can be hectic.