A Day Late and a Grand (Teton) Short
I won’t go into too much detail because I covered it in my other post What the Tetons Mean to Me (https://robrunsround.com/what-the-tetons-mean-to-me/), but the Tetons have a very special place in my heart. The TLDR on that article goes something like this: in the summer of 2016 I worked in a family grocery store at the entrance of Grand Teton National Park (GTNP). I loved it. It changed my life. It made me want to move out west. A lot of the person I am today was influenced by what I experienced that summer. Because of that, the Tetons will forever hold a special place in my heart.
(Side note: I love the Tetons so much, every time I fly from Denver to Boise I specifically pick a window seat on the side of the plane that will be facing them so that I can stare at them. As I write this on the flight home from my Teton adventure I am doing exactly that, but I digress.)
Ever since I worked there I’ve had the goal to climb the Grand Teton. The Grand (as people call it) is quite aptly named. It shoots out 7,000 above the trailhead at the base and is almost 1,000 feet taller than the peaks surrounding it. The GTNP skyline makes up one of the most recognizable mountain skylines in the world, beat out only by the Matterhorn (Tolberone chocolate) and Fitz Roy (the Patagonia logo). It is a classic North American climb if not THE classic North American climb and there are two primary ways to ascend the Grand. One is via the Owen Spalding (OS for short) route-with a crux of 5.4 (low level climbing for serious climbers). The other primary route is via the Exxum Route with a crux of 5.6-5.7 (harder climbing, but still not insanely hard for experienced climbers). Since living in the Tetons, it has always been a goal of mine to have the skillset to safely run up and free climb (no ropes or equipment, just your shoes and your skills) the Grand via the OS route. Although the climbing isn’t terribly difficult, the consequences of falling on the cruxes is deadly and the exposure is great. Making a wrong move or slipping above the upper saddle will almost always result in death. Because of these factors, two things are extremely important in making a safe and successful summit:
1. The person’s skill level/mountain experience.
2. The environmental conditions.
Regarding my skill level, I can confidently climb 5.9-5.10 in roped conditions (indoor gyms and outdoor sport climbing). I am comfortable moving over rocky and quite vertical terrain (scrambling) as I do these things often in my long runs and mountain adventures. Although I’m not amazingly confident with exposure (making moves over 2,000ft drops makes it hard to keep the heart rate down), I have some experience. I also did a lot of research on the OS route ahead of time to see what kind of moves would be required. I watched YouTube videos, dug deep into Wyoming Whiskey pics with super detailed descriptions, and just made sure nothing would be a surprise. I’m not THE best prepared person to climb the Grand, but on a good weather day I’m confident I could climb it. The biggest boost I felt I needed was a confident partner who regularly climbs the Grand in a variety of conditions and has done it many times. Enter my buddy Travis.
Travis and I met last year at the Palisades 50 mile race in Southeast Idaho. He was celebrating his 40th birthday by running the race (talk about a celebration!). Travis tied me and another runner who was also 27 years old for second place. We ran the last 10 miles together and decided that it was worth running in to the finish line as a trio. It goes without saying: Travis is a badass. He’s extremely fit from skiing and mountain adventures. He is also a very competent climber. In running with him and chatting, I learned that he lived in Jackson Hole (the town closest to GTNP). He told me to reach out whenever I was in town and that he’d happily go up the Grand with me. This year, when I found out I’d have a window to go to the Tetons, I immediately reached out and asked about going after the Grand. He was SO stoked on the idea. Travis is one of those guys who radiates positivity which is a tremendous asset to have when you’re trying to accomplish something like climbing theGrand. It took a lot of back and forth with logistics, but he never wavere. He made sure it was a priority to be out there together which I am extremely grateful for. He the type of guy our world coulduse more of and one that makes every adventure 10X better with their presence. I was confident I was significantly increasing my chances by having someone like Travis to go up with.
Which brings us to my second criteria: the environmental conditions. The weather leading up to our summit attempt was amazing. The week was dry, warm, and clear- all conditions you want for climbing granite rock which makes up the Tetons. My favorite French friend Sylvain and his buddies climbed the Grand the day before. They said it was in great shape. I did the Middle Teton (non techical, right next door) and it was equally awesome. I went out to eat with Sylvain and company that night and then returned to camp at the trailhead of the Grand at Lupine Meadows. As I was winding down in Sylvain’s pop-up camper (Thanks Sylvain, that thing is sweet!), I started to hear some cracking and see flashes of light. I wandered outside to the feel of damp air. As craned my neck back, I held witness to an amazing display of a backcountry majesty. Lightning was lighting up three directions of the sky as the storm approached from the West behind the Tetons. I watched it roll in and hoped that it was just heat lightning and wouldn’t bring rain. After capturing a few videos of the crazy skies, I went back into the camper to read and try to get to bed early. About 5 minutes later I heard the first rain drop on the roof, and from that point on the skies opened up. With every drop of rain, I just pictured my chances of climbing the Grand the next day washing away. Eventually I fell asleep, but it took a while thanks to my nerves from the anticipation of what the next day might hold.
Travis met me at the Lupine Meadows trailhead parking the next day and we set off at around 6AM. It was noticeably more humid and there was a low cloud layer that bordered on fog. We agreed to go up and check out the conditions. We could make the call when we got to the technical parts of the approach based on the condition of the rock. Travis and I made good time and quickly climbed above the cloud layer and up to the lower saddle. It took use 2.5 hours to climb 5000 vertical feet, a really solid pace considering the altitude and terrain. We made good time from the lower saddle (space between Grand and middle Teton) to the upper saddle, but were a bit discouraged by the fact that we were basically hiking/scrambling up constantly wet rock. Much of the climb we were legitimately walking through streams of water. This was not inspiring confidence to say the least. Climbing is strongly dependent on the surface itself and the shoes you wear. In both of these cases the surface was wet granite (slippery as hell) and wet rubber (my Scarpa Ribelle Run shoes which are good but not as grippy as approach or climbing shoes) which did not bode well for safe climbing.
Around 9AM we showed up to the first big move on the OS route: the Belly Roll. The Belly Roll itself is not a super technical move, but the exposure is nuts. Losing grip or making a wrong move means a 2,000+ foot drop down to guaranteed death. You can either go over the rock or go under depending on your preference. Travis proceeded to go over it and waited for me on the other side. As he moved, I watched the grip on his approach shoes and looked down at the drop. The valley below was obscured by being in the clouds, but you could still tell it was a longggggg way down. The winds started to pick up as well. I was not feeling the move or the conditions one bit. I knew that the most technical sections lie ahead. I also knew that if I was nervous to climb up the route, then it would be even sketchier to climb down. The high risk wasn’t worth the potential reward. The rain the night before made things wayyyyyy more dangerous. I couldn’t justify taking that level of risk just because I wanted to climb the Grand.
The goal was (and still is) to climb the Grand, but my biggest goal at the end of the day is still to come safely and be able to keep getting out there. Nothing outweighs that. I can’t justify making stupid decisions that have such grave consequences. As soon as Travis went over I told him I wanted to pull the plug. He was prepared to make the climb, (and, with a higher level of climbing ability, he very well could have) but I wasn’t. On the way down we ran into a friend and talked for a bit. We ran down from the saddle and I had a blast running fast on the trails down from the saddle. At the trailhead parking we ran into that same friend again. He said it was the wettest he had seen the Grand all summer. His words further assured me that I had made the right decision. Was it possible for me to get up the Grand that day? 100%. Was it wise to try? 100% not. Mistakes on the Grand hold the biggest consequence of all. I could never forgive myself if I did that to my family and it would be 100% my fault if I went up on a day like we encountered. There are times where the risks just don’t outweigh the rewards because of how huge the downsides are. Monday felt like one of those days. I love the Grand, I love the Tetons, and you can bet I’ll be back to try again on a safer day.
