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Jackson Hole Mountain Resort: “Legendary”

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Getting ready for my first run at Jackson Hole Mountain Resort last Friday.
Getting ready for my first run at Jackson Hole Mountain Resort last Friday.

I just returned from a day on the slopes of Jackson Hole Mountain Resort, in Jackson Hole, WY.

I’m lucky because this world-class resort is in my backyard, just a 3-hour drive from my hometown of Lander, WY. I grew up skiing its slopes.

On Thursday I left Lander in a blizzard. More than 10 inches of white stuff had already fallen on Lander. I could only hope that it was doing the same in Jackson.

It wasn’t. But that’s okay because it meant that once I was over Togwotee Pass I had more suitable road conditions. And, although there was no fresh pow to enjoy on the slopes of Jackson Hole Mountain Resort Friday, we had a stellar, almost-entirely bluebird day. Plus, this would mark my first, and probably only, day to be on the snowboard this winter. Beggars can’t be choosers.

Beautiful scenery on Togwotee Pass, along the Continental Divide, on my way to Jackson Hole.
Beautiful scenery on Togwotee Pass, along the Continental Divide, on my way to Jackson Hole.

Well, fortunately, there’s nothing left to want for once at Jackson Hole Mountain Resort. The place can be described in just one word: Legendary.

If you don’t believe me, consider these facts: Jackson Hole Mountain Resort (JHMR) boasts the greatest continuous inbound vertical rise for ski areas in the U.S. –– 4,139′ to be exact. To access this in a single legendary run, ride the Aerial Tram, otherwise known fondly as “The Big Red.” In 9 minutes you’re delivered 4,139′ of vertical. When it comes to skiing or snowboarding, this is about as close as you can get to instant gratification.

My friend, Joel Krieger from Atlanta, GA, and I posing next to trail map sign at top of Bridger Gondola.
My friend, Joel Krieger from Atlanta, GA, and I posing next to trail map sign at top of Bridger Gondola.

The resort partially covers two mountains — Rendezvous and Apres Vous — and provides access to some of the most challenging terrain in all of North America. Perhaps, then, it’s no big wonder that JHMR attracts many of the world’s best free skiers.

Within JHMR alone, skiers and snowboarders enjoy about 2,500 acres of inbound terrain. And while that’s a heck of lot of terrain (plenty for most people), there is an even larger area to be explored off-piste (out of bounds).

Skiers Bill Lewkowitz and Lisa Walker enjoy a run. That's the Tram in the background. (Tristan Greszko/JHMR photo)
Skiers Bill Lewkowitz and Lisa Walker enjoy a run. That's the Tram in the background. (Tristan Greszko/JHMR photo)

The terrain has not only attracted the best skiers in the world but also one of the leading ski film companies, Teton Gravity Research, and Jackson Hole is home to one of the most famous expert ski runs in the world, Corbet’s Couloir.

To whet your appetite, check out the Trail Map. Breakdown of terrain is roughly 50% expert, 40% intermediate, and 10% beginner.

This would normally be my husband, Jerry, getting big air at JHMR's terrain park. But in this case, it is not, as he is recovering from a spine fusion. (Tristan Greszko photo/JHMR)
This would normally be my husband, Jerry, getting big air at JHMR's terrain park. But in this case, it is not, as he is recovering from a spine fusion. (Tristan Greszko photo/JHMR)

I know, personally, from growing up and skiing and snowboarding at Jackson Hole and then experiencing other resorts, in Utah, Colorado, and California, that often times people will say a “blue” at JHMR is like a “black” on any other resort. I certainly think this is the case. That said, there is plenty of beginner and intermediate terrain.

I consider myself an intermediate snowboarder who, given great conditions, pursues expert runs. The Hobacks are my favorite. They are black diamond runs and represent backcountry conditions but with the advantage of being delivered direct access to them via lifts.

Laramie Bowl is fantastic. One of my favorite extended runs is the Gros Ventre, accessed by the awesome Bridger Gondola. Get out of the elements and ride the Gondola for only 7 minutes. Your reward: A mile and a half of descent! Unbeatable, in my opinion.

Another favorite of mine is to ride the Thunder Quad Chair and take the black diamond Paintbrush to Amphitheatre. Dogface and Bird in the Hand off Sublette Quad Chair are also favorites.

Exceptional, easy-to-access intermediate (blue) runs can also be enjoyed off the Apres Vous and Casper Quad Chairs.

Beginner terrain is plentiful off the Teewinot and Eagle’s Rest lifts. There is a phenomenal terrain park and halfpipe as well.

During my recent day at JHMR, I snowboarded about 23 miles worth of runs covering about 50,000 feet of vertical. Not too shabby at all!

Jackson Hole Mountain Resort has something for everyone. (Photo by Ken Redding)
Jackson Hole Mountain Resort has something for everyone. (Photo by Ken Redding)

I had views of the Jackson Hole valley below and met nothing but friendly skiers and snowboarders on all my rides up the mountain.

My snowboarding partner for the day and I enjoyed a fantastic lunch at The Couloir Restaurant, which is perfectly located at 9,095′ elevation at the top of the Bridger Gondola.

Joel had a burger and fries that looked downright delicious and I enjoyed a tasty and fulfilling serving of buffalo chili, all while watching paragliders take off from the slope out our window. The Couloir has been written up in Food & Wine, as well as Conde Naste’s Hot Tables List. The chef is top shelf, and all ingredients are native to the region.

Snow is plentiful, too. The resort receives about 460″ of white stuff every year.

When you ask someone who’s skied or snowboarded at JHMR, who has also skied other major resorts in the Western U. S., about their JHMR experience, often the response is the same. That JHMR is a combination of all the things skiers and snowboarders seek, wrapped into one. The best — most extensive, varied and challenging — terrain, stunning scenery, people who are friendlier than those found anywhere else, and a mountain experience that is 100% authentic.

Like I said, this place is legendary.

Sometimes You Can’t Get the Girl out of the Frontier

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On a hike in my backyard, Wyoming's Wind River Range.
On a hike in my backyard, Wyoming's Wind River Range.

I travel quite a bit to attend and present at various tourism-related conferences throughout the country.

The headline for this comes from a saying I like to use in my tourism conference presentation introductions: “You can take the frontier out of the girl but (often) you can’t take the girl out of the frontier.”

I love living in Wyoming. Wyoming is largely considered frontier. In fact, the U. S. Census Bureau classifies much of our state as not even rural, instead calling it “frontier.”

We rank 50th out of 50 states for population. Only about 530,000 people are lucky enough to call Wyoming home.

Our state is full of big, wide open, seemingly empty spaces. When we think about population density, there are only 5 people per square mile here. You could say it’s a little lonely here.

This is probably the most common scene experienced by people traveling in a car in Wyoming. (Photo by Florian Herrmann)
This is probably the most common scene experienced by people traveling in a car in Wyoming. (Photo by Florian Herrmann)

There are more animals than people here. For example, there are approximately 600,000 pronghorn (antelope). When you add in all the wild animals, we humans are outnumbered about 2-to-1. When you add in farm and ranch animals, we’re outnumbered 3-to-1. So Wyoming is not only a lonely place, it’s a wild place.

Typical scene in towns like Jeffrey City. (Photo by Florian Herrmann)
Typical scene in towns like Jeffrey City. (Photo by Florian Herrmann)

Frontier means “a region at the edge of a settled area.” Frederick Jackson Turner, an American historian in the early 20th Century, is best known for his essay called “the significance of the frontier,” which among other things, said that “when pioneers moved into the frontier zone they were changed significantly by the encounter.” In 1893, Turner argued that unlimited free land offered the psychological sense of unlimited opportunity, which in turn had many consequences, such as optimism and future orientation.

I love this because I like to think it describes most of the people I know who live in Wyoming. We’re an optimistic bunch and I think it’s largely because we live in a landscape that provides a wide variety of unhindered and striking views, whether we’re looking at snow-covered, glaciated granite mountains, valleys, meadows, buttes, sagebrush-covered hills, a desert, a prairie, or a herd of pronghorn.

I view my parents’ decision to move us from Iowa to Wyoming when I was just 3 years old as one of the greatest gifts they’ve given me. I love Wyoming. So much so that after leaving to college and living/working in other states for eight years, my husband and I chose to return to Wyoming in 1995, where we’ve been ever since and where we hope to always remain.

But for all its wonderful aspects, getting out of the frontier can be difficult. Recently, I was trying to fly out of Wyoming for a trip to the Olympic Peninsula in Washington State, where I was invited to be a keynote presenter at a tourism conference. I had planned my departure so that I would have a couple of days to explore the region before the conference.

I’m the mother of three young boys, so I don’t like to travel very often and not for very long periods of time when I do. I booked the 6 am flight out of Riverton to make connection in Denver, to save me the 5.5 hours it takes to drive to Denver, or the 4.5 hours it takes to drive to Salt Lake City.

Me, at a lake in our Wind River Range, during a dreamier occasion.
Me, at a lake in our Wind River Range, during a dreamier occasion.

So Monday, Oct. 12, I arrive at Riverton airport at 5 a. m. First thing I notice is there’s no plane waiting outside. I’ve traveled enough to know this is not good news. Typically the plane rests in Riverton after carting passengers from Denver on the evening flight into Riverton. Still, I check in and nothing is said about the flight not being on schedule. However, I was asked if I’d be willing to take travel credits in exchange for a later flight because the flight had been “downgraded from 24 to 18 passengers.”

I say, no, I can’t do that. This is a big trip, one that I planned 3 months ago, and besides, I had to make it to a keynote presentation I was giving at a conference.

Typically for the 6 am flight, we go through security around 5:30 am. But it’s now 6:15 am and there’s still no plane there and the security gates are closed and unmanned. There are about 20 of us just sitting or wandering around.

By 6:30 a.m., I’m anxious. My connection in Denver to fly to Seattle is tight. I had scheduled a flight that allowed me about one hour in Denver. At this point, my flight in Denver is to be boarding in about an hour and a half. This Riverton-to-Denver flight, if I ever get on it, is about 1 hour and 15 minutes. It’s glaringly obvious my trip is off to an awful start, probably an altogether non-starter.

The Riverton Airport. It's a really nice airport with a local Wyoming touch.
The Riverton Airport. It's a really nice airport with a local Wyoming touch.

I go to the ticketing counter and ask, “So are we going to be flying out soon? Is there a plane coming?” To which the friendly attendant says “I don’t know. We don’t have any information right now.”

At this point I size up my surroundings and come to a realization. You can tell the locals from the visitors. The visitors are the ones who act like, and believe, they’re going somewhere this morning.

The locals, on the other hand, are reading books like “When Bad Things Happen to Good People.” Some of them have even kept their motors running in the parking lot on this 20-degree morning. After chit chatting a little, I learn from a couple of locals with tickets for this morning’s early flight who fly often that “this flight only goes about 50% of the time.” Hmmm. This stinks, I think to myself.

I also see Father Bob Cook, President of Wyoming Catholic College, based in my town of Lander. I go up to him, and I ask how he’s doing. We both decide to pray to St. Jude, “the patron saint of hopeless causes” – or, the “Miraculous Saint.”

Turns out there are no later flights that will put me in Denver in time to make a connecting flight to Seattle that has availability. So, I take my chances and move my itinerary to the same time tomorrow. Things must work out, as my conference is the day after and I have to be there. I go home and will try this all over again, starting with another wakeup call tomorrow at 3:15 am. Grrr.

Many Wyoming people have horror stories that probably are more spectacular than my example here. For instance, one time two of my colleagues got out of Denver very, very late and behind schedule on their flight into Riverton following a conference. They said when the plane finally did land in Riverton, it was 1 am and the doors were locked and no one was working at the Riverton airport! Someone had to be called and awakened to come and open up the airport for the late passengers.

Awesome. 24 hours later, this sight is the first good indicator my chances of getting out of Wyoming are looking good.
Awesome. 24 hours later, this sight is the first good indicator my chances of getting out of Wyoming are looking good.

But, back to my story. Thankfully, all worked out beautifully for me to get out of the frontier the next day. But, as Rita Faruki, from The Nature Conservancy, so aptly stated, she felt like Bill Murray in the movie, Groundhog Day, doomed to repeat the day over again. (I didn’t even unload my suitcase from my car into the house, and I wore the same outfit to the airport when I tried again, successfully, to fly out Tuesday.)

I should mention that I don’t have a problem flying on small planes. In fact, I prefer them to the big jets. I just wish they’d show up more often.

Also, even if they only show up 50% of the time, my experience is that they’ve gotten me to my destination safely 100% of the time.

And, often I’m flying with friends or neighbors – there is always at least someone I know on my flight. Heck, I even went to school with one of the pilots, who is so much younger than my 41 years that it seems impossible he can be flying jets. (Where’s his “Bob the Builder” backpack, I think, and then remember he’s probably a good 38 years old by now).

Plus, when we’re taxiing out to the runway in Riverton, we’re ALWAYS “#1 for departure,” which is also pretty cool.

And probably the biggest thing I’ll add is it truly is a miracle that I can live out on the frontier, literally, and yet I have scheduled (albeit not super reliable) air service just 25 miles away. When things go right, I can leave Lander, WY, in the morning and be getting my toes wet in the ocean by early afternoon.

It's great to not have people stuffed in next to me on either side. (Photo taken by Rev. Bob Cook)
It's great to not have people stuffed in next to me on either side. (Photo taken by Rev. Bob Cook)

Would I trade living on the frontier of Wyoming for a city that has a big airport and provides reliable flights? Nope. Not a chance.

If this is the cost of living on the frontier, I’ll gladly pay it.

Thanks to my dad, Bill Sniffin, and Ernie Over, who provided some of the information about Wyoming being classified as a frontier and how we’re so outnumbered by animals here. These are two of Wyoming’s biggest boosters and they love Wyoming as much as I do.

Deep Creek & Ice Lakes hike is epic

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As I write this blog post, it’s Oct. 4 and we’ve had 18 inches of snow fall on my hometown of Lander, Wyoming.

Stopping to pose by one of many beautiful lakes on a recent 25-mile day hike in Wyoming's Wind River Range.
Stopping to pose by one of many beautiful lakes on a recent 25-mile day hike in Wyoming's Wind River Range.

Boy, I’m sure glad I was able to do the epic hike to Deep Creek and Ice Lakes in the southern Wind River Range a week ago. Last Saturday, on Sept. 26, we had a stellar Autumn day. Bluebird sky all day long and the trail — all 25 miles of it — seemingly to ourselves.

Holly Copeland, Leann Sebade, me, Milo the dog, and Florian Herrmann, in front of the first lake in the Deep Creek Lakes basin.
Holly Copeland, Leann Sebade, me, Milo the dog, and Florian Herrmann, in front of the first lake in the Deep Creek Lakes basin.

The hike was epic because it was beautiful. But also it was epic because it was long for a day hike. At 25 miles, the hike was one I thought I’d be taking alone. My husband, who is usually my companion on these long day hike efforts, is recovering from a 4-level neck fusion, so he was out. And, when I asked some friends if they’d be interested, one said: “Hmmm. How do I say this? I would do it if we had 2-3 days.”

But by some miracle, within a couple of days, I had 4 takers. I had a “group” to accompany me on this long day hike.

The cast of characters included Florian Herrmann, Leann Sebade and Holly Copeland, and her black lab, Milo.

Holly and her dog, Milo, Leann and Florian, hiking through the Deep Creek and Ice Lakes region.
Holly and her dog, Milo, Leann and Florian, hiking through the Deep Creek and Ice Lakes region.

We departed down the Sheep Bridge Trail from Worthen Reservoir at 6:15 am with headlamps on.

We hiked to Sheep Bridge, then up the Middle Fork toward Pinto Park before taking the Deep Creek and Ice Lake Cutoff Trail. Then, for several miles we hiked amongst lakes and granite cirques and tundra. We returned via the Tayo Park, Middle Fork and Stough Creek Lake trails.

Oh oh, girls and a map. Trying to find our way. And we did, thank you very much.
Oh oh, girls and a map. Trying to find our way. And we did, thank you very much.

It was a spectacularly beautiful hike. I was inspired by the stunning sights, the effort and the good company.

It was another remarkable day in this paradise in my back yard, the Wind River Range of Wyoming.

It’s tough to beat seeing so much of our magnificent Wind River Mountains as I can in one day while getting a great workout and spending time with great friends who are positive people and who are a great influence on my life. I feel very lucky.

By the way, my husband and three sons were able to track our progress and whereabouts all day long thanks to the Spot Satellite Messenger I had attached to my backpack. It logged GPS coordinates throughout the hike and Jerry and our sons watched us on Google Maps. Very cool. Here, I mapped the trip on Backpacker.com:

One of several beautiful lakes we hiked by.
One of several beautiful lakes we hiked by.

Here are some video clips captured on the great hike. Enjoy!

Day 2 of Grand Teton Expedition

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This is PART 4 in a 6-PART series about my recent Grand Teton Expedition. For previous posts, here is a pre-trip post a recap, and Day 1 Journal Entry.
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When you’re climbing you live in the moment. Don’t anticipate. Think about and focus only on what’s in front of you in this moment. – Julia Niles, one of our fabulous JHMG guides, and also a Mountain Hardwear-sponsored athlete

Kathy and I wake up around 6:30. Jamie and Jeff are already up – we can hear them getting out of their tent. As soon as I get out of the tent, I sniff some coffee. Yeehaw! I follow my nose, and the short path to the kitchen hut, where a few others are up and sure enough, coffee is on and ready to quaff.

None of us slept that great, but that’s okay, it’s beautiful out and we’re going to learn how to climb today.
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After enjoying a spinach omelette and some really good, strong coffee, we prepare for a day at the nearby crags.

Our excellent JHMG guides, Nate Opp and Julia Niles.
Our excellent JHMG guides, Nate Opp and Julia Niles.

Our first order of business is to try some bouldering. This is scrambling and easy rock climbing that is not high off the ground. We follow Julia and Nate. One by one we practice bouldering – looking and feeling for holds and places to put our hands and feet to maneuver up the rock. We do this for a little bit and then head for bigger rock.

One of the big attractions of going on an expedition with Jackson Hole Mountain Guides is not only the caliber of their guides and the amenities of their high camp, but its location. There is lots of great climbing just a stone’s throw behind and alongside it. It takes us about 5 minutes to walk to the base of the first wall we’ll climb on, Fair Share Tower.

Checking knot and harness.
Checking knot and harness.

Here, we put on our helmets and harnesses for the first time, and Julia and Nate instruct us how to tie “figure 8” knots. We practice tying up to our harnesses a few times. Julia and Nate demonstrate belaying and climbing on the route in front of us.

Jeff is up first. He scales the route pretty easily and quickly. Up next is Jamie. Despite his big frame (6’3”, 263 pounds), Jamie loves rock and scrambling on rocks. Immediately he finds his way up the pitch. He looks like he’s having fun. I think he likes climbing better than hiking. Jeff belays him and along with some simple instruction and reinforcements from our guides, he does a stellar job. So far, so good…

Now I’m belaying as Kathy scales the wall. She has no problem. This is fun and not too bad after all, I think to myself.

Belaying on Fair Share Tower.
Belaying on Fair Share Tower.

Then it’s my turn. I’m nervous but reassured to see my teammates have success. I climb on and look for holds and find them and advance up the wall. My soft hands experience some discomfort from the rough rock but overall this is quite fun.

Next we take turns taking a stab at a pitch to the right of our first route. This one’s crux is at the end of the route, and none of our group overcomes it. Except for that part, we are holding our own so far and starting to figure out the basics of this thing that is called rock climbing.


We break briefly to drink water and eat a snack and then head further to our right down a short path to a 3-pitch route known as “All Along the Watchtower.”

In this clip, guide Nate belays as guide Julia leads the first pitch for us:

Next we watch as Jamie makes his way up the first pitch with ease. We all get over the first pitch with ease.

The second pitch is also no problem for Jamie, as he scales it pretty quickly and disappears out of our sight. But Kathy and I look on with a bit of dread. The first move seems tricky to us – our legs are shorter than Jamie’s. It is not clear from where we are standing how we will get past the first move.

Kathy makes her way up Pitch 2 of 3 on All Along the Watchtower.
Kathy makes her way up Pitch 2 of 3 on All Along the Watchtower.

A little anxiety crashes the party. My heart beats faster. I am uncomfortable. I wait patiently and shout out words of encouragement and support to Kathy as, after some efforts, she finds a way past the first part. Whew. I yell, “Great job, Kathy! Way to Go!”

Then she disappears out of sight. My rope pulls tight so I know she’s arrived and completed the second pitch. “That’s Me,” I yell. “On Belay,” says Julia. “Climbing,” I yell back, despite my fast-beating heart, apprehension and fear.

I recall how Kathy got through the first move and try it myself, and it works. Bingo, that wasn’t that tough, I think to myself as I advance up a rock wall that is generous in providing holds for both my feet and hands. Quickly I advance, but then suddenly the wall runs out and I’m at the top of the cliff at a corner. Kathy is sitting as compactly as possible in a tiny little spot of rock where on either side is nothing but vertical abyss. It’s breathtakingly beautiful scenery, but it comes at a cost. There are a lot of vertical feet of air separating our beings and the small corner of rock on which we are located and the sights we’re taking in. Holy crap. “Where do I go from here?” I ask Julia and Kathy – anyone.

Kathy doesn’t say anything. She just sits there, as if glued to her little spot on the rock. Julia says “right here.” Well I figured that much, but how?, I think to myself, disappointed that she doesn’t provide the answer for me. The only way is to walk on this short, skinny ledge and then climb/heave myself up over the corner. I don’t think I have the strength but then I’m propelled by some inner strength onto another tiny vacant spot on the rock next to Kathy.

Kathy, sweaty palms and all, sits and waits for her turn on the last pitch.
Kathy, sweaty palms and all, sits and waits for her turn on the last pitch.

Then Julia and Jeff are yelling their commands back and forth and Jeff’s climb is now under way. Kathy and I sit and watch Jamie start the third pitch in front of us, along the top of the cliff/Watchtower. There are “bunny ear” formations on the top of the cliff and he is attempting to climb his way over the first one to start his route across the top to the other side where a pair of bunny ears jut up. His feet slip. He tries again and slips again. He struggles a little more. He changes his strategy and goes at it another way and is successful.

Jamie sizing things up and trying to figure out a way past this point along the top.
Jamie sizing things up and trying to figure out a way past this point along the top.

The final pitch that is before us and causing so much anxiety in Kathy is a 250-foot-plus knife edge ridge with hundreds (thousands? does it matter?) of feet of vertical abyss on either side.

I have never come close to – pardon my expression, please – shitting my pants. But at this moment, I just about shit my pants. Doubt, for the third time today, is rearing its ugly head again. There is no freaking way… I can’t do it. It’s impossible. I can’t. Crap. How am I going to do this? It doesn’t help that Kathy is looking at me with the same dread I’m experiencing. She looks desperate and shows me how the palms of her hands are sweating. Truth be told, I am glad she is up next and not me. I don’t want it to be my turn. Ever.

Jeff and I trying to relax as we wait on a tiny corner up high.
Jeff and I trying to relax as we wait on a tiny corner up high.

As Jamie makes his way successfully across the top of the Watchtower to Nate and the “bunny ears” and the end of the route, and Kathy and I sit silently, Jeff approaches from behind. I can tell by his body language and expression that he, too, is surprised and a bit freaked by the corner and tiny ledge that stands between he and where we’re sitting – where the next pitch is to begin.

“Where do I go?” asks Jeff. There’s not much room where Kathy and I are sitting. “Just sit there and dangle your legs over there,” said Julia. Jeff looked hundreds of feet below. “Just dangle my feet?” Jeff asks as he proceeds to do as instructed. The sight of us three trying to be glued to the small corner of rock and compacted as much as we could manage must be a sight that JHMG guides are all too familiar with.

I start the final pitch across the top of All Along the Watchtower.
I start the final pitch across the top of All Along the Watchtower.

Kathy gets unglued from her safe little spot and starts the route. Reality sets in that my turn will come and I will have to confront the doubts and fear that are doing their best to suffocate me. I watch and take mental notes as Kathy successfully scales the last pitch, which by the way, is about the width of a sidewalk and is generous with holds… but nevertheless on either side of it is hundreds or more feet of air. So although we’re roped in and we are in good hands, and there is plenty to stand on and hold on to, I can’t get this over with fast enough. Thrilling? You better believe it. Try freaking scary. But one at a time, we each maneuver over it.

Next is a 180-foot rappel. Our test here is glaringly obvious: We will need to commit our weight – and trust – to our harnesses, and step off into space and air. Again, fear consumes me. I recall how I was just more scared than I’ve ever been and I yet managed to put that behind me. When it’s my turn, I face the cliff and back-walk down to a ledge where I am instructed to shift all of my weight to my harness by “sitting” with my feet out in front against the rock, and then I am lowered. And it’s fun!

Jamie starts his first rappel.
Jamie starts his first rappel.

My feet hit the Earth. I feel more alive than I have ever felt. I am invigorated and exhilarated. Or to borrow from some of my climber friends’ vocabulary, “totally amped.” I think my hair is standing on end.

Our lives were never at risk today. We were roped up and backed up and in good hands with two guides and lots of gear and instruction and moral support, doing something thousands before us have done. I knew this up on the cliff and I know this now, but still I was required to be outside of my comfort zone.

It has been a very big learning day. I encountered great discomfort, a truckload of fear and significant doubt on at least three occasions and each time I overcame them and succeeded. This is an enormous feeling of accomplishment. So much so that it I’m thinking today’s experience has been a very worthwhile and fulfilling experience. As I stand here, feet on the ground for the first time in a while, I realize I have just learned a great deal about confronting fear and doubts – oh, and rock climbing, too.

We return to camp, have lunch. Julia and Nate review what we need to pack for tomorrow (Summit day), and what we need to wear. We are instructed to go to bed early because we’ll be waking at 3 am to eat breakfast, and will be departing camp for our summit bid at 4 am with headlamps on.

Before turning in, I ask our guides if we’ll be climbing the easiest route to the summit. Nate says, “We’ll be climbing a route that is definitely not the easiest route.” We learn we’ll be climbing the Pownall-Gilkey route and that “it’s a spectacular route.”

After lounging a bit, we eat an early dinner of pasta, and then Kathy, Jeff, Jamie and I gather around our tents to chill, and sum up the adventure so far.

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We all agreed that the Grand Teton summit would be not be as formidable after today’s experiences. In fact, it now seems like a much smaller mountain, in mind at least, given the tests we faced, and passed, today.

I’m not sure if that’s what the guides had intended with today’s climbing instruction, but at this moment, I feel certain it will serve us well on tomorrow’s Grand Teton ascent. But no doubt, we’ll need to cowboy up for the event.
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At end of Day 2. We'll have to cowboy up for Day 3/Summit day.
At end of Day 2. We'll have to cowboy up for Day 3/Summit day.

I read some more from Deep Survival: Who Lives, Who Dies, and Why, and then closed in for what would be a short night.

Kathy and I in our tent the night before Summit day, unable to sleep.
Kathy and I in our tent the night before Summit day, unable to sleep.

I didn’t sleep a wink that short night, or at least I thought I didn’t. But Kathy, who for sure didn’t sleep a wink, says I in fact did sleep – and snored – for a 15-minute period. The anxiety and eagerness to ascend the Grand Teton was too great for sleep. But it sure was a beautiful star-filled night under which to have insomnia.

It’s 2:50 am, and my watch alarm is about to go off. What will today bring? Will we stand on the Grand Teton’s summit?

CONTINUED… SEE DAY 3-SUMMIT DAY

Thank you to my husband, Jerry, and our sons, and all of my family and friends for their support of this adventure, to Kathy, Jamie and Jeff for going along and sharing such a memorable and challenging adventure with me (and to their families for allowing them to), and to Harlan (my father-in-law) and uncle Gilbert for crewing and providing support in the region while we headed upward into the tall mountains. Also, thanks to Jackson Hole Mountain Guides, especially Nate Opp and Julia Niles, who made our trip more special and remarkable. Also, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention Steve Bechtel and Elemental Gym. Steve has been providing training and fitness guidance for the last four months that no doubt helped make this trip a reality for me. Also, thanks to Brunton for keeping my camera batteries charged so I could report on the adventure, and to Bridge Outdoors for outfitting us with “Wyoming Climr” t-shirts.
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Day 1 of Grand Teton expedition

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This is Part 3 in a 6-part series about my recent Grand Teton Expedition. For previous posts, here is a pre-trip post and a recap.

It is 9 am and we are headed to the Lupine Meadows trailhead. Most of us are caffeinated; all of us are awake, and our eagerness to get the show on the road, after months of anticipation, is so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Our team. From left, Jamie Johnson, JHMG guide Nate Opp, Jeff Johnson, me, JHMG guide Julia Niles, and Kathy Kloewer.
Our team. From left, Jamie Johnson, JHMG guide Nate Opp, Jeff Johnson, me, JHMG guide Julia Niles, and Kathy Kloewer.

Our guides from Jackson Hole Mountain Guides, Julia “Juice” Niles and Nate “Special” Opp, are waiting for us at the trailhead at 10 am sharp. Our rented backpacks are full, we are clean for the last time in a while, and have covered ourselves in sunblock.

The first portion is a walk in the park. Nothing spectacular, pretty flat and mostly forested. We stop for our first break at 1.7 miles, taking our big, full backpacks off and drinking some water and snarfing a small snack. Then, we’re off again for another 1.25 miles that is beautiful and at a slight uphill grade.

Still fresh and frolicking...about 2.5 miles into the hike to Corbet High Camp.
Still fresh and frolicking...about 2.5 miles into the hike to Corbet High Camp.

Here we have great views of Bradley and Taggart Lakes and wildflowers of all kinds, as well as huckleberries. After about 3 miles we take a lunch break overlooking the aforementioned lakes. Everyone’s still feeling pretty good at this point, laughing and talking, even. : >

Enjoying a brief break with great views at Lupine Meadows.
Enjoying a brief break with great views at Lupine Meadows.

At this point the trail gets more rocky. We’ll hike across a boulder field and rocky, steeper terrain. The views get more spectacular with every step. There are towering granite peaks before us, glaciers, a stream with crystal clear waters and a waterfall. I can’t imagine scenery more spectacular than what we’re hiking through.

We are surrounded by granite and glaciers along the way.
We are surrounded by granite and glaciers along the way.

So… the scenery is breathtaking. In more ways than one. The altitude is starting to take effect, especially for the flat-landers among us. Kathy, Jamie and Jeff hail from Omaha, NE, situated at 900 feet. I live in Lander, WY, at 5,200′ and am accustomed to hiking at altitude. Julia reminds us to take deep breaths and of the importance of big exhales to get rid of co2 waste.

Here’s a short video clip from the last upward march:

We focus on taking deeper breaths and it helps. We’re sounding like a bunch of obscene phone callers, breathing heavily and loudly.

Marching up the last 1,000 feet of vertical en route to Corbet High Camp.
Marching up the last 1,000 feet of vertical en route to Corbet High Camp.

The sights keep us inspired as we continue slogging up the steep, loose trail with our sights on the landmark – a yellowish big boulder – that our guides promise marks our destination, Corbet High Camp.

Soonafter we arrive to what will be our home away from home for 3 nights. It’s spectacular. There’s no other way to describe JHMG’s Corbet High Camp. There are a handful of tents situated throughout the piles of rocks that make up the area.

We choose a tent situated right under Tepee Glacier under the Grand Teton. The view out of our tent door is of the Jackson Hole Valley, the Middle Teton and a wall known as the Watchtower. Not too shabby, I think to myself. Not too shabby at all.

At home at JHMG's Corbet High Camp, donning our official Wyoming Climr shirts courtesy our friends at Bridge Outdoors.
At home at JHMG's Corbet High Camp, donning our official Wyoming Climr shirts courtesy our friends at Bridge Outdoors.
Julia and Nate show us around. We see the “hut,” a community area where the kitchen and food is kept and they show us how and where to refill our water bottles. One of the most pressing question our group had had to do with bathroom facilities and logistics. There is not a tree or any vegetation in the camp given the rocky and above-treeline terrain. They gave us instruction on the RestStop bags, which one member of our group feared more than the Grand Teton ascent, but I won’t name names. Suffice it to say, it was a pretty brilliant system and proved to work just fine.

After some hors d’ oeuvres, which included cheese and crackers and smoked salmon, and tea, we settled our things in our tents and rested and napped on rocks perched near camp.

The community/kitchen hut. Here is Jeff Johnson of our group, a client from Corvallis, OR, and our guide, Nate Opp.
The community/kitchen hut. Here is Jeff Johnson of our group, a client from Corvallis, OR, and our guide, Nate Opp.

For dinner, we enjoyed pasta and salad and good company. There were others in the camp with their guides. We met people from Washington, D.C., Wisconsin, Texas, Connecticut and Oregon. We became acquainted with not only our wonderful guides, but other JHMG guides including Rob Hess, Darren Budlong, Rob Gowler, Steve Quinlan and Sue Miller.
Reading Deep Survival at camp.
Reading Deep Survival at camp.

Everyone was tired and fulfilled from what was a beautiful and physically demanding hike to camp so shortly after dinner we retreated to our respective tent sites, where I read out loud from Deep Survival to the others in our group. I think we only made it through the prologue before we all grew weary and headed to bed.

As I lay in my sleeping bag in the tent under a starry sky that night, I couldn’t help but be excited for what the next day would bring: Climbing instruction on the nearby crags and other preparation for the “grand” prize: the summit of the 13,770-foot-tall Grand Teton.

HERE ARE SOME REFLECTIONS FROM MY GROUP ON DAY 1:

CONTINUE TO DAY 2.

Thank you to my husband, Jerry, and our sons, and all of my family and friends for their support of this adventure, to Kathy, Jamie and Jeff for going along and sharing such a memorable and challenging adventure with me (and to their families for allowing them to), and to Harlan (my father-in-law) and uncle Gilbert for crewing and providing support in the region while we headed upward into the tall mountains. Also, thanks to Jackson Hole Mountain Guides, especially Nate Opp and Julia Niles, who made our trip more special and remarkable. Also, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention Steve Bechtel and Elemental Gym. Steve has been providing training and fitness guidance for the last four months that no doubt helped make this trip a reality for me. Also, thanks to Brunton for keeping my camera batteries charged so I could report on the adventure, and to Bridge Outdoors for outfitting us with “Wyoming Climr” t-shirts.