Denied on the Grand Teton

First light - photo: Jared InouyeI have always maintained that the most rewarding mountain adventures were the ones filled with the most uncertainty along the way. Unknown route conditions, dodgy weather and equipment issues can all create uncertain outcomes. This kind of uncertainty creates a considerable amount of stress but, once overcome, also adds to the satisfaction of success. 

There was plenty of uncertainty last week as I stepped up for an attempt to climb and ski the Grand Teton. It's been a few years since I last skied the Grand. That trip was blessed with perfect weather and powder conditions for a good portion of the descent. This time would be different. First, I was planning on going alone. Climbing and skiing solo creates its own set of issues. Add to that a less than ideal weather forecast and plenty of unknowns would weigh on the day.

I've been planning on skiing the Grand all season and I had a partner who was keen. Jared lives in Salt Lake so that adds an additional level of complexity to hitting the conditions when they come in. The flip side of that is he is extremely motivated to get it done and has some flexibility in his work schedule to make it happen. We wanted to do it in the fastest possible style. We would go with all the light rando/adventure racing gear. We would be on race skis. We would have little to no rack so we would be soloing all the technical sections. For the rappels, we brought two 60 meter 7 mm lines.  

My decision to go came at 6:30 pm the night before when I found out that I was not working. A quick look at the weather forecast revealed conditions that were not ideal but reasonable enough to have a look. I felt a little bad about not having Jared along but on such short notice I did not expect him to be game. Almost as an afterthought I sent him a quick email to let him know I was going for a recon of the route. Not 10 minutes later my phone rang with Jared on the line considering the unthinkable. 

Now, good, strong partners who are reliable are hard to find. One that is willing to blow off work, rearrange his schedule and drive through the night to ski a big peak is rarer still. These relationships need to be cultivated. It was nearly 10 pm and we both sat on the phone scanning the weather forecast and assessing our chances. Although the forecast from the National Weather Service was not great, mountainweather.com here in Jackson gave me the confidence that, at least, it was not going to snow. Windy, yes, but snowy, no.

I could here gear being shuffled around as we spoke and within a few minutes the decision was made. I would push back my start time and he would leave SLC by 2 am and we would hopefully be skiing by 6:30 am. The wind would be annoying but how it was moving the snow around turned out to be the key factor.

Jared managed the drive in less than 4 hours. He was early. How many ski partners are actually early when they drive to your house from across town, let alone from another state? At least we were starting out well. 

It was relatively calm at the trailhead but the cloud plume blowing off the Grand suggested otherwise up high. The skin track was in but it was slippery from some recent warm temps. Can you say, "wind loading?"Slippery or not, we made good time up to the Meadows. Firm conditions above that had us in crampons with perfect booting all the way to the Teepee Col. We got hammered by 50 mph wind gusts and there were a few spindrift sluffs coming down as we ascended. It was all good until the last 200 vertical before the col. We moved onto a wind slab that gave us pause. A hasty pit revealed the consolidated layer about 18 inches thick.

After some discussion, we decided to punch it to the col. Once there, the wind continued to hammer us. A quick look across at Glencoe Col, the entrance to the Stettner Colouir and the beginning of the technical climbing revealed an ominous hanging pillow. This one was more threatening as it was smaller and hung over a steep slope above a cliff band. No place to take a ride. 

We stared in silence each knowing the decision before we uttered it. It was a blue bird day. Jared had just driven 4 hours through the night for this. But these were crappy reasons to push through what we both agreed were unacceptable snow conditions. Not only would we have to climb on that wind slab but we were pretty sure similar dangers lurked higher in the Ford Couloir. I was also worried about spindrift avalanches in the Chevy since we would be soloing the AI 3 section.

We ripped skins, struggling in the wind to get our skis on. Our sphincter tone was high as we started down from the col. Conditions were wind-hammered and variable. Below the wind slab we relaxed and skied chalky neve down to the Meadows. I noticed the breakable crust on the way in and was dreading the ski out on my race sticks. Fortunately, warmer valley temps had turned the snow pack into whip cream and the ski out was painless.

Although we were disappointed, Jared got his first look at Garnet Canyon and we got a feel for the first three quarters of the ascent. Of course, the real business remained to be seen but we were already scheming our return before we got to the highway. Skinnier ropes, lighter crampons and, hopefully, a stickier skin track will see us make even better time next time through. As it was, we got to the Meadows in 1:40 and Teepee Col in 3:30. With a better skin track (not refrozen frustration) we can do better.

The real mystery remains the meat of the route. With super light equipment and race-honed fitness, we should move well up high. But mountains have a way of throwing unpredictable twists in our expectations. And really, I wouldn't want it any other way. - Brian  

Comments

[Sam Page]

Hey Brian, your first paragraph is brilliant -- or at the very least, it's an opinion I've come to hold myself.