Home ·· News Room ·· Prints ·· Licensing ·· Gallery ·· About Us ·· Contact Us ·· Articles ·· Services Fall Road Trip, September 26 to October 11, 2007 Updated November 6, 2007 Page 2 of 5 Previous page   Next page
	Road trip continued... Just past 5pm, the couple I had met earlier came up to a cluster of trees a quarter mile away and began setting up their camp. They had a good sized tent with them, so I began to see why they were taking more days for this trip. Though, I again admit that having a roomy tent is tempting. It's only tempting to the point that I compare the ¾ pound shelter I was carrying versus the 7 pound shelter across the meadow. Only the occasional flutter of distant laughter permeated the silence of the now darkening aquamarine sky. Once the sun fell below the horizon, I brought the alcohol stove to life and boiled water in a few minutes and mixed it in with my Trader Joe's potato flakes, making a hearty meal to replenish my tired body. After a long day of hiking and living off energy bars, this otherwise simple potato meal tasted more like home made Yukon gold mashed. It became clear that the so-called protein energy bars left me unsatisfied, though feeling full. It seems that these "Marathon Energy" bars really just are not energetic. They just didn't cut it. Comparatively, the bars that still looked like food or were made from something that once resembled food fit the bill much better than the seemingly synthesized bars. With visions of waking up to black bears licking my face and grizzly bears sitting on me just because they can, I feel asleep quickly. I was sure a passing pan-faced brown bear was not interested in a purple nylon covered, down feather sleeping bag surrounded backpacker as a midnight meal. At least that's what I kept telling myself. Friday, September 28, 2007 Awaking shortly before sunrise, I was greeting with cool blue sky light dancing off the cliffs at my camp. Soon those cliffs were illuminated with the welcoming rays of warm sunlight. Getting up and shaking the pine needles from my bedding, I began preparing for the second day of my trek. Retrieving my cookware and food from the bear box, I noticed no bear tracks in the moist dirt. Somewhat disappointed by the lack of a bear visitation to justify the expense and weight of the bear spray, I began the morning routine of heating water for the oatmeal and brown sugar energized with powdered milk breakfast. The air was still and crisp. The clouds belied the direction of a storm system headed my way. Today's forecast was only for light puffy clouds and a slight breeze. The smell of warm oatmeal brought me back from my meteorological observations and I stirred the mash. The alcohol fuel stove, made of a soda and beer can, sputtered out just a minute after my meal was cooked. Soon, the nutritious mix was gone and energy returned to my body. Holding the warm titanium pot, while eating breakfast, provided the perfect amount of heat to get the hands moving. By the time I was packed and prepare to depart the group camp area, only silence came from my campmates on the knoll a quarter mile away. It was very apparent why they'd be taking a few more days to do this trip. Sleeping in is a foreign concept in a backpacking trip with the time and distance I set for myself. Mt. Meek Pass was blustery and windswept with only gravel and a hard packed trail as landscape features. A solo hiker headed south on the Teton Crest Trail and I exchanged a few comments but didn't chat too long due to the biting wind cutting into both of us. As he walked on past me, I took a few shots of him contrasted against the wide open space for a sense of scale. Once over Mt. Meek Pass, the trail heads into the deceptively shallow Alaska Basin. The perspective afforded on the south edge of the basin makes the area appear flat and easy to cross. However, once you begin down the trail into the area near Teton Creek, the full size of Alaska Basin can be seen. The area is massive and deep and did somewhat remind me of the stark landscapes in Alaska. The walk up past Sunset Lake and Hurricane Pass is significant. Really, walking up to the lake is fairly reasonable but the slope changes after that and converts to a classic Sierra grind. This Teton Crest Trail does keep one honest after all. Once half way up the south slope of the pass, the grandeur of Alaska Basin can be seen and fully appreciated. Trees here are gnarled and sparse, with thin vegetation covering the areas not already covered with rocks. The place has a serene harshness to it. Up on Hurricane Pass, the winds weren't too strong, though they were cold. The breezes peaked at 20 miles per hour. Really, not bad considering people have reported gale force winds or worse up there. After cresting the pass, one of the big payoff views of the Teton Crest Trail reveals itself. In the cul-de-sac of South Cascade Canyon, the sheer cliffs abutting the backs of the Grand and Middle Teton as well as Teepee Mountain are visible. In the moment that Schoolroom Glacier and its strangely circularly uniform emerald green pond are visible, one might think the scene spread out under the partially cloudy sky might have been taken from the end of the Ice Age. Craggy rocks, stunted spruce trees and a blanket of jade green vegetation cover the upper canyon floor while a few fir trees tenuously cling to impossibly steep locations along the canyon walls. Feeling the temperature and cold winds, one almost expects to see a saber tooth cat prowling a small herd of mastodons inside the canyon. The place just has an otherworldly feel to it. From the north side of Hurricane Pass, the trail drops rapidly along the walls of South Cascade Canyon down to the more gentle slopes of the canyon floor. Once at the cusp of the canyon, all 13,300 feet of the Grand Teton is obscured by the steep cliffs, strange as that seems. This really gives you a feel for the depth of the canyon to hide an entire mountain in just a half mile. After a few quick miles, I found the junction to the north and main sections of Cascade Canyon. Now, it was decision time. Earlier in the morning, while kneeling under my tarp tent, I felt a sharp pain near my Achilles tendon. It felt as though someone had crushed the area with pliers. My legs weren't under any load at the time and, at least I thought, I wasn't in a strange position other than flexing my foot. I felt dull pressure in my foot while walking, but nothing worrisome. Also, the weather had deteriorated markedly, filling the sky with threatening clouds. The hope for the next few hours was to get above the freezing altitude so I could be in potential snow rather than rain. There was no thunder indicating severe weather, so after carefully considering the risks, I chose to forge on up North Cascade Canyon toward the first group camp. Should things turn very bad, I only had to go down the canyon to escape. On the way up through the official camping area of North Cascade Canyon, I only saw one other person wearing a red bandana, far off in the bear berry brush, in one of the more open campsites. The group camp icon on the National Geographic Grand Teton waterproof map is placed marked much farther east than the actual site. The previous day, I had also discovered that the turn off for the North Junction in Grand Teton National Park was mis-marked as well. Everything else seemed to be spot on, though. I reached the group camp around 5pm, giving me plenty of time to choose a prime campsite out of the worst weather, well protected by spruce and pine trees. This provided more safety inside of my ultra-light tarp tent. Instead of carrying a full tent, my shelter simply consists of a small plastic ground sheet, a 5' x 7' silicone impregnated nylon tarp, a few hollow aluminum stakes and retroreflective Triptease guy lines. The entire shelter weighs 1 pound, 5 ounces. As much as my Western Mountaineering down Megalite sleeping bag. With the convenience of a little time, it is possible to find a very well sheltered area to shield me from the chilling winds of the coming storm. With the looming storm, I was going to have the first bad weather test of a shelter I have relied on for years. I have been remarkably lucky in the past and now it was time to pay my dues. The Mountain House pro-pack chicken tetrazzini really hit the spot as the gray skies darkened to a deep slate and then finally to black. I bedded down and fell asleep quickly. Saturday, September 29, 2007 Once or twice, I awoke to shift around and relieve the pressure on whatever numb body part I was laying on. Arms really start to complain after they have been used as a pillow for a few hours. Each time I awoke, a few drops of rain struck my tarp while in the distance I could hear a slow but constant storm soaking the forest. Working to find a great shelter paid off, as the surrounding trees blocked almost all the rain. After a fairly long night, the meager sun began lightening up the otherwise leaden skies. Knowing that heavier weather was on the way, breakfast was quickly cooked and the decision to continue on was made. Should things become untenable, it would be easy to turn back and escape Cascade Canyon to Jenny Lake and relative safety. Previous page   Next page
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