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Grand Teton Trek

I have finally assembled an account of my last trek in Wyoming with Jim. Enjoy the pictures. I sure enjoyed seeing them again -- even if it made me a bit sad to have left voluntarily.

Jim was nice enough to join me for my last week in Wyoming. This allowed me to share my life in Jackson Hole before it was over, but more importantly, it allowed me to plan a "grand finale" backpacking trek through Grand Teton National Park. He got in late afternoon, and we wasted no time in town; we bought supplies, packed, and generally spent the balance of the day preparing.

Day 1
We get up early, hoping to get to the trailhead as quickly as possible. Of course we first have to drive the jeep to Jenny Lake, where we will end several days later, and get a breakfast burrito from DOG. After fighting a faltering taxi industry and traffic problems, we arrive at our trailhead halfway up Teton Pass and begin our trek up Phillips Pass. The first day is mostly climbing, bringing us from near the valley floor up into the Teton Range. As we are still relatively low in altitude, the vegetation is still lush, and the slopes are covered in wildflowers.

Jim climbing through the fireweed. These flowers cover the slopes. They bloom blue and then change color to red, with the color sweeping across the field like a wildfire.

We reach the top of Phillips Pass, and join the Teton Crest Trail at it's peak. It is onward and upward from there.

Phillips Pass from above. This is a popular day-hike destination. We did not see many other hikers after this point.

As the day wears on, we make good time (better time than we expected), but the sun is hot and the trail is increasingly exposed. We start looking forward to a swim in the lake that the map shows about a mile before our campground.

If we can just make it to the other side of that ridge, there should be a lake for swimming. At least that's what the map says.

Of course, it is August at this point, and by the time we reach the lake, is nothing but a muddy spot in the middle of a grassy field. Exhausted and disappointed, we push on to the National Park boundary, find ourselves a campsite in Granite Canyon, and lay down for a nap.

It was a long day of climbing. First priority when reaching camp: take off boots and cool off.

Of course everything is better after some rest and some dinner (sweet and sour rice with summer sausage -- you'll find that all of our meals contained summer sausage). With the bear bag hung, we passed the time in the darkness asking each other Trivial Pursuit questions from a deck stolen from my roommate.

Granite Canyon puts on a show at sunset.

Day 2
Our second day out was much less climbing than the first, but there were many miles to cover, and above the treeline, we were in the sun all day. Climbing out of Granite Canyon, we walked right next to a moose that doesn't seem to care one bit that we were there. We emerged from the canyon and arrived at Marion Lake, the most enjoyable alpine lake that we took the time to swim in. (If you haven't noticed, the clean, cold lakes at this altitude are a real treat, and something looked forward to -- especially in August). It is a shame that we crossed this one so early in the day. It would have been divine late in the afternoon.

Marion Lake was a beautiful site.

I don't think that the family we woke up with our skinny-dipping minded too much

We did not swim long, and pushed on over Fox Pass, where we got our first good look at the Tetons. From there we walked around death canyon on a shelf overlooking the enormous ice-gouged, bowl-shaped valley.

On death canyon shelf

We had to fight to protect our lunch from the scavenging vols, mice-like creatures who are bold enough to take food right off your plate. Jim was eating Velveeta and sausage with one hand, and chucking rocks at rodents with the other.

The bluffs of Mount Meek overlooking Alaska Basin. You can see in these exposed cliffs the dramatic shift of the rocks due to the faultline.

At the end of the shelf, we passed Mount Meek and it's bluffs, and approached Alaska Basin. With the terrain getting more extreme, the trail left the crest of the range and plunged down into the valley. It was a lush and welcoming enough valley, but it had already been a long day. We weren't in a "natural beauty" sort of mood anymore. I, for one, was fixated on the idea that every step down into this valley meant another step that had to be climbed on the other end before the end of the day.

The trail into Alaska Basin. This half was easy.

An executive decision was made during the climb out of Alaska Basin -- there would be a change of itinerary. We came across another lake, Sunset Lake, halfway up the canyon wall with great views of the basin, and of Grand Teton through a gap in the nearby ridge. With such a beautiful campsite, we were forced to stop for the night. It had nothing to do with being tired, absolutely nothing.

Taking a swim sounds like more fun than climbing that pass, don't you think?

We had to rethink things a bit. Day 3's plan was to climb South Teton, just on the other side of the ridge. Looking at the map, we decided that we could take an even better approach than planned: we could climb up onto the ridge, and follow a feature called The Wall over to the base of South. It would mean an early start, but sleep wasn't a priority. Besides, getting to bed early was not going to be an issue.

Day 3
It was a very early start to what would be a long day. We wouldn’t cover much ground, which is to be expected when you hike all day without the benefit of trails. We woke up just as the sunrise was starting to kiss the far ridge of Alaska Basin. We were excited to do some climbing, and headed off straight up The Wall. (The Wall is the name of the ridge to the right of the gap in the above picture.) The time spent on top of The Wall turned out to be the most amazing and the most frustrating of the trek. We were dumbstruck by views of the major peaks right in front of us and of Snowdrift Lake far below. I still am dumbstruck -- I can't do justice to the site. Just look at the pictures from atop that ridge, and imagine it all in front of you. Our decision to change routes had allowed us to experience this remote ridge, but it ultimately cost us the opportunity to climb our peak. Our path to South Teton was blocked by what I will call a "significant" cliff. Our maps were simply not detailed enough to warn us.

When we arrived at the top of The Wall, Jim and I were awed by the major peaks in front of us. By awed, I mean that we were incredibly intimidated by the prospect of climbing the far right peak with no guide or equipment. Unfortunately, we weren't able to try.

Snowdrift Lake sparkled in the still early morning sunlight. Does anybody else think this looks like some fantastic hidden land? Look at how protected it is, and how much higher it is than Jackson Hole in the distance.

Here you can see the path that we were hoping to take (the slope at the right edge of the image) and how far below us it is. Iceflow Lake sits in the cradle below Grand Teton.

Jim and I were forced to regroup, and decide how we were going to proceed. The only way off The Wall was back the way we came, so after much calm discussion over the best path, we decided to climb halfway down, and then traverse the slope below the cliffs until we could pass through the notch in the ridge (the one that was above the previous night's campsite). It was a fine idea, but not easy going. My footing made me nervous, so I moved slowly. Jim handled it far better, but had to move at my pace. We were walking across a steep slope over one of three surfaces: large boulders, snow, and loose gravel. We seemed to go for hours without being able to put our foot down on something that didn't move. Compounded by the awkwardness of carrying packs, I was stressed.

A very skittish me crossing some snow. In retrospect, it wasn't such a big risk, but there's just no helping the worry once you get the idea in your head.

Eventually, we found our way to the saddle below South Teton. Instead of arriving early and ready to climb, we were exhausted and ready for a late lunch. We found the only shade we could in the shadow of the cliff that had blocked our way. We ate tuna and crackers on a precarious ledge.

We did make it to the saddle, but there would be no climbing. Why the bandana? We are far above the treeline at this point, and the slopes that we hiked were so exposed that I was getting sunburned through my hair.

We needed a new plan, and a swim is always a good idea. Snowdrift Lake was tempting, but we decided that Iceflow Lake was more dramatic. We climbed up to the lakeside, but a swim was not in the cards. The water was so cold that when I put my feet in for as long as I could stand, they turned blue. No joke.

My first hint that this lake might be on the chilly side -- the large glacier flowing directly into the water.

It was time to find camp, so we hiked down out of the high peaks and into Cascade Canyon. We rediscovered our trail, and took that to the park campground. We are now in the heavily traveled section of the park, but it is easy to see why. Cascade canyon is a beautiful place to camp. Our original plan was to spend both nights 2 & 3 here, but I wouldn't trade our site at Sunset Lake.

Campsite number three with Grand Teton in the background. The cascades on the cliff wall flowed out of Iceflow lake far above.

The last night out treated us to a pleasant rainstorm as we slept.

Day 4
Day 4 was all about wrapping things up and packing out. We covered a good deal of distance, but we were dropping altitude so fast that the miles flew by effortlessly. The crowds of tourists, already large at the campsite by the previous days' standards, grew exponentially as we approached the trailhead. Of course, we had to get in one more swim. This time, it was in front of a whole crowd while we waited for the ferry to take us across Jenny Lake.

We got back to the Jeep relatively early, and had plenty of time to relax before heading into Jackson for dinner and to catch my friend performing at the Silver Dollar Bar. It was only a few hours after we left the trail that a very large storm went through that would have dumped on us. Luckily that storm passed and did not interfere with kayaking the next day.

Posted by kpjoyce at October 30, 2003 12:56 PM