The radio stations started to become fuzzy
somewhere around Lava Springs, Idaho. Beau hit scan on the 4Runner's radio and
finally landed on the only crystal clear station...
"Just two grown men... driving to the
Tetons... listening to Taylor Swift..."
Wednesday had been a long travel day. We were
up by 6:00am, met at Beau's house at 8:30am, hopped our first flight out to Vegas
at 11:30am, had a 3hr layover in Vegas (lost $10 gambling), hopped our next
flight to Salt Lake City which landed around 6:30pm, then got shuttled to our
rental car and was on the road by 7:30pm.
We had originally planned to drive a few
hours, find a place to camp for the night and make the final push up to the
Tetons first thing Thursday morning but with the sweet, glorious sounds of
Swifty floating through the airwaves encouraged us to try and push all the way
to the Tetons.
We arrived in Jackson a little before 1:00am
and started thinking through campsite possibilities. The sign at the entrance
to Grand Teton National Park said there were vacancies at Jenny Lake so we
headed to investigate. Unfortunately, the sign was a lie. We ended up staying in the car the first night. Of course one of the seats was broken... so I slept in the
very back like a bag of groceries...
And Beau curled up in the middle seat...
Climbing 2 Big Ole Boobies
Now before you go and get all "America
2017" (aka: offended about every-freaking-thing) on me for the title... note this fun fact:
"French trappers are responsible for naming the three peaks
now known as the South, Middle, and Grand Teton. They called the mountains “Les
Trois Tetons,” or “The Three Breasts.” The Grand Teton—the tallest of the
three—literally means “the big tit.” - Climbing Magazine
The shitty night of sleep quickly dissipated
when we stepped into the cool morning air of the Lupine Meadows trailhead and
set our eyes on the pre sunrise glow bouncing off of the Tetons. I munched on
my breakfast (a spare cheeseburger from the night before) as we loaded our
packs for the day ahead. Though we brought climbing gear, ice axes and micro
spikes ... the conditions were favorable enough to not need much more than a helmet
and snacks.
The sun started peeking over the horizon as we
started our journey up towards the Meadows.
We came across a couple that were standing in
the middle of the trail waiting for a bear to move. We saw no bear... but we did see
some deer!
After a few miles, we got our first real view
of the ruggedness...
We boulder hopped our way to the Meadows and
ran into a small group hanging out waiting to see what the weather was going to
do. The forecast had predicted some storms to move in around 10:00am but we made
the decision to keep moving up the mountain since the sky simply appeared
overcast. The group offered some welcomed route advice that kept us out of the
main boulder field in the center and steered us right along higher ground.
There were a few snow fields to cross but
nothing that couldn't be done with regular shoes.
We eventually made our way to the saddle and
stopped for a quick snack break at the overlook for Ice Flow Lake.
Beau w/ the South Teton looming in the background
We chose to take the SW Coulier route for the
Middle Teton which is mainly comprised of mostly class 3 scambling with maybe 1-2
Class 4 moves closer to the top. The chute we were climbing was extremely
narrow and full of loose rock. We had helmets but there was no one above us
climbing (probably due to the weather prediction) so we never had
to use them. I took lead and Beau kept a healthy distance between us in case I
sent any loose rocks down his way.
After climbing 6000 vertical feet from our car... we
finally reached the 12,804ft summit!
To our surprise it was calm up top. Despite
the ominous looking skies... the wind had died down and left us with a quiet
and peaceful summit. We had outstanding views but the tip of the Grand was
hidden away in the clouds...
We eventually started getting a little chilly
and decided to make the trip down.
Though I had a bit of a headache and was
feeling extremely tired and worn out from the long day of travel and awful
night of sleep... I made the decision at the saddle to push for the South
Teton's summit. Beau had felt a little loopy on top of Middle and made the
decision to head back down to the car for a river rinse and nap. It was all I
had in me to part ways from him after he said the word "nap" but I
knew I would be kicking myself in a few days if I didn't take advantage and tag
South.
I didn't initially see a path or trail so I
just started boulder hopping along the ridge. Eventually I saw 3 small figures
in the distance on the trail making their way down the mountain so I started
making my way over their direction. We spoke briefly and they gave me a few
pointers before I continued my journey. The climb up was fairly easy. I swung
around the backside (not sure if it was the actual route) where there were a few
really fun moves that were extremely exposed. I was in the clouds by the time I
reached the 12,514ft summit.
The view of the Middle was completely
covered...
I stayed up top for a bit watching the clouds
move across the mountains and finally got a good view of the opposite side of
South.
The clouds started clearing as I made my way
back down to the saddle at 10,500ft.
Since we skirted around the middle boulder
field on our ascent... I figured I would try to go down the middle of the basin on my descent.
We had seen a few people in the middle boulder field as we were climbing and
figured there had to be somewhat of a trail/path. There was not. It was just
massive boulders. Zero fun. I was making pretty good time through the boulders
but unfortunately planted on loose rock that gave way. I tweaked my ankle a bit
and took a hard fall onto the rocks. I cursed loudly and looked around for
witnesses but was completely alone. After taking a few minutes to regain my
composure and get my ankle situated with some triplanter exercises... I
continued through the boulders.
I came to a short snow field and tried my best
to be one of those cool mountain runners that shoe-ski down the entire length
of the snow field. It was a ton of fun and I was semi-successful in my
attempt but by no means graceful.
The further I continued through the boulders
the more I realized I was veering off course. The cairns assured me I was on a
path... but I couldn’t seem to get my bearings as to where it would end up.
Eventually I came to the beginning of another snow field traverse. This one was
a bit longer and was angled. I took a few moments to gauge my next move. I
could backtrack a bit and scramble around the snowfield or could chance the
traverse. The slope of the snowfield had me a little concerned that I didn't
have enough traction on my shoes to make it safely across without slipping.
Though there were dug out imprints of where people had traversed... at the base
of the snowfield were some sharp looking boulders that didn't look too
inviting. After weighing the options... I made the decision to take my chances
on the snowfield. The first couple of steps were pretty solid and easy... but
near the middle of the traverse the footing started to become more slick and unstable. I was
slightly passed the halfway point when I slipped, landed on my ass and started
sliding to the bottom. I tried my best to dig my heels and hands into the snow
to slow my descent but nothing seemed to slow me down! It was incredible how
much speed I gained on the way to the bottom. I slid about 40ft before I
eventually met the boulders. Thankfully I was greeted with a flat surfaced boulder that allowed me to catch myself firmly with both feet.
When I brushed the snow off of my shorts I
realized how red my hands were and how bad they hurt. I guess they got
scrapped up and took a beating from the fall. I gently cursed myself for not
taking the ice ax and micro spikes. I made my way across the base of the
snowfield to find my way back onto the path. I finally came across a cairn that
had a stick arrow pointing down a little gully which I assumed was the
direction I needed to head. I cliffed out after climbing down the gully and
had to backtrack. I scrambled up a rock face to gauge the direction I needed to
head. I could see the Meadows below but couldn't really see a path down from my
current position. I made the decision to slowly make way down another boulder field full
of loose rocks and dirt. Though it was semi-sketchy... I moved slowly and
eventually made it back to safety in the Meadows. It took a moment for me to look around and see that the day had morphed into an
absolutely gorgeous afternoon...
I still had a few miles to go before getting
back to the car so I filled up one of my soft flasks with some ice-cold
mountain water...
After a long day of scrambling up rocks and boulder
hopping... the run down from the Meadows was extremely peaceful.
It took 11 hours and 18 miles/ 7500ft gain to
link the Middle and South Tetons. There is something so magical and rewarding
about spending ALL day in the mountains. Alpine movement not only engages your
ENTIRE body but it also engages your mind with having to think through moves
and problems. I've come to realize that these are the types of outings that
speak to my soul and make my heart happy and thirsty for adventure.
Beau was propped up with his legs hanging out
the window when I finally made it back to the car. I was envious of how
comfortable and relaxed he looked. When I asked him about his trip down he rattled off my EXACT same story line! We litrully took the same route down from the saddle... got cliffed out in the same spot, slid down the same snow field... EVERYTHING! After changing into some clean, comfortable
clothes we went and grabbed a campsite right outside of the GTNP. Not a
turrrrble view from the campground...
We drove back into Jackson for dinner and ate
on a patio and discussed the adventurous day over colbeers. We grabbed another
6-pack before heading back to camp for the night. Such a solid first day of
vacation.
No Wildlife In Yellowstone
We woke up with the sun on Friday morning,
packed up our camping gear and headed into Jackson for some breakfast and
coffee. After a quick cup of local coffee, we bid farewell to the Tetons and set
our sights on Yellowstone.
We were ready to get out and stretch the legs
after sitting in construction traffic so we made a pit stop at Old Faithful. I
knew Old Faithful was very touristy but I was shook at just how touristy it actually was. It was nothing like I expected. For some reason in my mind I had the
experience pegged out to be a little more innocent and natural feeling than it turned out
to be. Instead of a serene viewing of the geyser... Old Faithful felt more like
a killer whale at Sea World. Though the eruption was beautiful... it was sad in
a way.
After the eruption was complete we hit the
road again. We had planned to possibly make a few pit stops on our way out to
see a few other sights but every single parking lot we passed was packed full
of cars. It was such a turn off that we made the decision to just continue on towards Big Sky.
My friend Kathleen was in Yellowstone the week
prior and had posted a few amazing pictures of the wildlife she saw. She saw
bison crossing the road...
pic: Kathleen
Had a frightening close encounter of
the elk kind...
pic: Kathleen
So, I figured we would get to see a good
amount of wildlife as we passed though. Nope. Not a damn thing. Kathleen got all of dis...
pic: Kathleen
And we got nothing.
When we rolled into Big Sky we made a BEE-line
to the Beehive Basin trail head and started getting ready for a run. While we
were lacing up our shoes we were approached by a few excited hikers who warned
us of a momma grizzly and her cub a few miles down the trail near a rock
cropping. We didn't have bear spray but we didn't worry too much about the
grizzlies. We figured by the time we got to the area they'd be long gone. We
were right. We saw a few hikers heading back to the trail head but no
bears.
The route to Beehive Basin a relatively easy
trail that would be about 7 miles round trip with approximately 1600ft of gain.
It was a perfect recovery from the long outing in the Tetons the day
before.
I had been scoping out and researching another
big mountain to climb for Saturday and Beehive Peak was one of the choices.
Beehive Peak is the 3rd highest mountain in
the area sitting at 10,742ft but everything I read had it pegged as a serious
4th class scramble to the top. I still had 5-6 months of hard work before my
shoulder would be back to 100% strength and I didn't feel confident enough to
make an attempt (especially since I would be venturing out alone).
We climbed up to the top of an overlook and
plopped down. Beau and I had never really gotten to spend any extended one on
one time together and I had thoroughly enjoyed our time together so far on this
trip. We had great conversations about practically everything under the sun
which included but was not limited to: existence, the paranormal, our wives,
our dreams and aspirations. It was quality time that I'm glad I got to
share with him.
After a lengthy chat our stomachs started
rumbling and we started our trip back to the trail head.
We took a brief pit stop to gaze upon the big
ass mountain that we would be climbing at mile 20 on Sunday: Lone Peak
sitting pretty at 11,166ft.
We drove down into Big Sky where I had the
best burger of my lyfe. No exaggeration... it was litrully the BEST BURGER OF
MY LYFE! Choppers Grub and Pub - Whiskey Burger (cheddar cheese, Applewood
smoked bacon, bourbon whiskey glaze). Get it. You will not be disappointed... unless you're a vegan... then you will be disappointed... or... you'll change
your rabbit ways.
After yet another failed attempt at finding a
campsite... we ended up getting an extra night in the lodge and spent the night
in a cozy bed, drinking colbeer and watching the Alaskan Bush People. I will
say it was nice taking a shower and cleaning up after 2 days of playing in the
mountains...
Naked and Not So Afraid
We slept in a little before moseying on down
to grab breakfast. Beau's plan was to hang out at the resort and ride the tram
up to Lone Peak to watch the 28k. My plan was to climb another big mountain. I
had 2 options: Galletin Peak (11,015ft) or Wilson Peak (10,705ft). I had my
heart set on Galletin but the shortest route I could find was a 23 mile round
trip and I figured that paired with the 11hr day linking the Middle and South
Teton would leave me pretty gassed for the 50k on Sunday. So, with Galletin and
Beehive out of the picture there was only one logical choice... the 12.5 mile/ 4700ft gain Wilson Peak route.
A short drive out of town and one dirt road
later... I found myself alone at the Dudley Creek Trailhead.
I took the dirt road up until it connected
with the single track. After a few days of running in mostly exposed
mountains... it was a welcome change to dive into a deeper, denser
forest.
At first it was a little unnerving knowing I
was all alone out in the middle of grizzly country without any bear spray... but the solitude and soothing sound of the flowing waters of Dudley Creek
lulled me into a peaceful trance.
Every so often I would pop out in an exposed
field but would quickly dive back into the woods. I knew I was getting close to
the alpine lake I had read about when I started a steep climb up along the
ridge. After 5 miles I finally arrived an unoccupied lake.
I knelt down and felt the water. It was the
perfect amount of cool and I vowed to take a dip after I tagged Wilson Peak. I
made my way over to the right side of the lake a climbed up a short couloir to
an alpine meadow where I FINALLY saw some wildlife: a mountain goat making its
way up the mountain.
I chose the most direct path to the ridge line
from the meadow and before I knew it I was traversing the ridge line in route
to the summit.
The route was a pretty easy class 3 scramble
and had a good mix of loose and stable rocks. I passed one really cool rock
structure on the way up...
It was fairly easy climbing until the last
100ft or so up to the summit. The final push had some good exposure and was a
lot of fun!
The view from the summit was gorgeous!
I relaxed and munched on a Cliff Bar while I
took in the view of Lone Peak in the distance. I couldn't help but imagine how
trashed I was going to be by the time I got to the top of that mountain the next day. I knew 3 heavy mountain days leading up to an extremely technical and
difficult 50k wasn't the smartest race strategy but I had to take advantage of
my time out West. Plus, with just having gotten back into running after doucheshoulder surgery... "racing" was the last thing on my mind. I
was just elated to be moving through the mountains and covering long distances
again! At this point... the Rut was just the cherry on top of an already
fabulous trip.
I decided to take a slightly different route
back to the alpine lake. The couloir I took down was waaaaaay more difficult.
It was mix of extremely loose dirt and rock. It wasn't as fun as the way up but by the
time I had gotten halfway down... I had to commit and continue. The earth was
just too unstable to climb back up. It was ridiculously slow moving and the
exposure left me overheated and sunburnt... so I did what any rational human
would do when I got back to the alpine lake.... I got nakey and cooled
off.
By the time I got back to our resort, packet
pick up was almost over. I took a quick shower, went and grabbed my packet and watched Beau fail miserably at the lasso toss...
I also got a chance to see my friend Laurie (another southerner racing from GA) before the pre-race meeting!
After we listened to Mike Foote give
his pre-race briefing we grabbed dinner at a delightful little eatery, laid out
our race gear and had one last colbeer before drifting off to slumber.
Wut Wut In Da Rut
The Rut started bright and early. The field
was divided up into 3 waves with the first starting at 6:00am and the others
leaving in 5 minute increments. Back before douche shoulder surgery I
had high hopes of being in extremely good race shape for the Rut so I had
signed up for Wave 1. Since I had not been able to train specifically for the
race and had put in a few long, hard days beforehand... I decided to slide back
into Wave 2 and start with Beau. As the screeching elk horn sounded through the
starting chute, we flipped on our headlamps and set off for a long day in the
mountains. Beau and I chatted for about a half mile before he took off ahead of
me. I didn't even attempt to chase or keep up with him and this would be the
last I would see of him for the day. I knew it was going be a tough day for me
and felt like I needed to run very reserved. There was nothing to prove by
pushing hard... I just wanted to enjoy the technical, brutal mountain terrain
and walk away with a great experience.
We immediately bottlenecked the moment we left
the dirt road but things started spreading out once the sun came up. The sun
was a brilliant orange masked behind the smoke from the wildfires that were
raging on the western part of the state
I felt way better than I expected as I came
though Moonlight Lodge #1 aid station (mile 5.6). My legs were feeling a bit
heavy but still had some pop in them. The miles between Moonlight Lodge #1 and
Moonlight Lodge #2 aid station (mile 11.5) were a lot of fun and seemed to
cruise by effortlessly...
That quickly changed after leaving Moonlight
Lodge #2 (mile 11.5). We started the steep, lengthy climb up to the top of the ridge and my
legs just weren't having any part of it.
As soon as we hit the scree field to make the
big push up to the ridge line... my legs gave out. They started to feel like ship
anchors and it started to feel like a chore to get them to cooperate. Looking up to see the tiny figures marching along the ridge line reinforced the idea
that it was about to turn into a extremely long day...
Though the climb up was tough... it was neat to see so many people pushing and experiencing the same mountain.
The climb eventually topped out and gave way
to some semi-runnable scree...
It was a cool experience running along lofty
ridge lines. The imagery of these mountains will stick with me forever.
The technical scree running quickly turned
into a steep dusty descent which lead straight into another climb to the
Swiftcurrent aid station (mile 18.7). I didn't stay too long here. I grabbed
some chips, bacon, and downed some Sprite before leaving.
The next mile would be the hardest mile of the
day. From the aid station to the top of Lone Peak was only a mile long BUT it climbed 1900ft along a technical scree-a-fied route.
About a third of the way up I started feeling
nauseous. HEED products have never really worked or sat well in my stomach and I had been downing soft flasks full of the HEED electrolyte mix for the
past few hours. It's my own damn fault for not packing my own electrolyte
mix... but I knew I was dehydrated from the previous days' adventures and
needed something more than water so it was a risk I had to take.
I found myself stopping every 10 steps or so
to hunch over, catch my breath and let my nausea settle. This became the
routine all the way up Lone Peak. At one point, I stopped completely and sat
down with my head between my legs. I was already sunburnt from the days before
but the high altitude and blazing sun was just making it worse. After regaining
my composure, I pushed upwards to the summit.
The moment I topped out I calmly walked over
to the side away from the aid station and threw up... 3 times. A photographer
came over to ask me if I was ok and I just smiled, laughed and said:
"Yea I'm fine. Just a wee bit
nauseous."
I felt like shit but at least I had a view. I
have thrown up in far less scenic places...
After cooling down with a soaking wet towel
from an ice bucket, I drank a few cups of Sprite, refilled one of my soft
flasks with Sprite and started heading down the scree slope.
I felt pretty good on the descent and started
to have genuine fun again but that quickly faded once we started climbing.
By this point the sun was baking like bacon and the nausea had picked back up. I had a sinking feeling back at Swiftcurrent (mile 18.7) that I wouldn't be able to stomach any
real food for the rest of the day... that's why I made sure I filled up a soft
flask with Sprite. Though it wasn't much... it was still calories and I had hoped it
would settle my stomach enough to hopefully at least force a gel into my
system. The climb up to Andesite (mile 26.5) was awful and misleading. There
were a few spectators along the trail cheering runners on but these spectators
were merely false prophets. I heard these false prophets and their gleeful cheers
and assumed that they were near the aid station. They were not. They were nowhere
close! Blasphemy! They sat and smiled on a log of lies! The trail continued upwards and
even had a few sections that were steep enough that required a rope to climb. After
what litrully seemed liked a lifetime... I popped out onto a road and could
see/hear the mass crowd surrounding the aid station. I slowly jogged into the
aid station... smiled at the lovely volunteers... grabbed some more Sprite... said
thank you... calmly walked off to the side and found a shady spot all to
myself... and then hurled all over my shoes. I proceeded to plop down and violently expel the rest of my stomach's contents onto the ground in between my
legs.
I couldn't help but laugh at how bad I felt. I
think it was the laughing that caught someone's attention. Aid Station Andy
came over and squatted down:
"Hey bro... you ok? Need anything? You ok
to carry on to the finish?"
I just smiled at the guy and chuckled.
"Yea man I'm fine. Just a little
overheated . Haven't kept anything solid down since Swiftcurrent."
The guy was genuinely concerned but I knew
nothing was legitimately wrong with me... I just felt like shit but that's
really hard to convey to someone that has just seen you throw up 3 times. He
was a sweetheart. He brought over a soaking wet ice towel and drenched me in
cold water. It. Felt. Amazing. I was so overheated and the sudden shock of
freezing water immediately brought me back to life. He repeated this process 3
times.
Aid Station Andy: "Now I'm not letting you leave here until you eat something."
Me:
"Ummm... What if I just ate a few chips?"
Aid Station Andy: "I'd prefer you eat something more than a few chips but... deal."
I nibbled on 2 chips. I knew I wouldn't be
able to keep a lot down so I wasn't go to even pretend. I stood up and Aid
Station Andy gave me one last ice water drenching before he wished me
luck.
(For the record... I don't know his real name.
We never swapped pleasantries. But if you're reading this Aid Station Andy... thank you!)
The next 3 miles were downhill and I
just sorted numbly floated down the mountain.
There were a few "easy" climbs at
the end that had me cursing the Mikes. I passed a medical/rescue worker who
informed me that a grizzly bear had recently been in the area but had moved on.
Someone caught this awesome picture of it!
pic: someone
Finally, after 10hrs37mins I crossed the
finish line.
pic: Beau
I immediately went and took off my shoes and
laid down. I was completely spent. The past few days of adventuring had worn me
out and it felt wonderful to be lying in the soft grass knowing that I could finally
rest.
After slowly dragging myself up to the room
for a hot shower... we made our way back down for dinner. We were so worn out
that we opted out of the beach themed after party and instead chose to drink colbeer and
watch our favorite Alaskan family on TV. Beau was paying for his Rut experience with a few foot cramps... that face tho! Haha!
Striking A Pose In Salt Lake City
After a long 5hr30min drive back to Salt Lake
City we set up camp in the Spruces Campground in Big Cottonwood Canyon.
On our final night of the trip we FINALLY got
our riverside campsite. Beau stashed our remaining colbeers in the river before
our chauffeur arrived.
I hadn't seen my friend Jenna since April when
she flew out to surprise Ashley for a Smoky Mountain weekend
getaway!
She picked us up and drove us to Alta for a
short recovery hike. It didn't take long before we decided to veer off our
intended path to go explore a new area...
pic: Jenna
Though it was a short hike... we still had
some climbing to do...
It was fun to finally get to see her
playground with my own eyes instead of through her instabang!
And of course it was great getting to catch up
with Jenna!
After relaxing and taking in the views from
the summit...
pic: Jenna
The hunger pangs in our bellies let us know it was
time to make our way back down to the car.
pic: Jenna
pic: Jenna
I already can't wait to get back to back and
explore those beautiful ridge lines!
After dinner and a rap-tastic car ride back to
camp... Jenna dropped us off back at our campsite. A bright moon, raging fire
and colbeers was the perfect way to end our last night out West.
"If You Can't Say F*ck At Least Twice In One Sentence
You're Not Really From Boston"
We had to get up bright and early to kick
start the long day of travel. Our flight didn't leave SLC until 11:40am but we
still had to drop off the rental, get shuttled back to the airport and most
importantly grab breakfast somewhere. Beau and I finally got to sit with each
other on the flight and were joined by the most Boston Bostonian I have ever
met. A sharply dressed older gentlemen (70yrs old?) with a bright green clover forearm tattoo
took the outside seat. He was so full of life and was absolutely hilarious! It
was such a treat listening to his stories. We went on to discuss his ski adventures…
his "pissedoffness" and the ridiculousness of having to "express my sins to a pedophile
priest." It was really inspiring to see someone living life to the
fullest and still being super active in the later years. We parted ways with
Boston when we stopped to let off/pick up passengers in Denver. After a quick
passenger exchange we bounced over to Dallas where we had a lengthy layover
before our final flight at 7:20pm back to Birmingham.
A few colbeers in Dallas and one in-flight
whiskey later... we arrived back in Alabama around 10:30pm.
By the time I made it back to the house my
wifey was already asleep. I woke her up with a soft kiss on the forehead and was
greeted with a warm smile and sleepy hug.
"Baby! I'm so glad you're home!"
It wasn't long before I was in bed, petting a
sleepy cat that was resting on my chest. I couldn't fall asleep immediately.
My brain was still trying to process the trip and the sheer magnitude of the
mountains that I had the privilege of exploring the past 5 days. I was just so
thankful. Thankful that I have a healthy body that allows me to cover long
distances in the mountains... thankful that I have such a loving wife that
supports my adventurous soul... thankful for the FARM and the opportunities
they've given me... thankful that I had such a good surgeon and rehabilitation team that got me back to doing what I love so quickly.
It's trips like this that really make me
appreciate all of the wonderful people in my life. I can't wait until the next adventure.
pic: Jenna
