We began our first full day with my Mom and Tom by visiting their neighbors that have become close friends. Sharon and Earl are a beautiful couple and both have a sense of humor that exemplifies their zeal for life. Leading long lives and achieving 63 years of marriage has made them overtly wise in a way that makes you want to ask them all of life’s hardest questions. They welcomed us onto their porch where we sat and chatted. My Mom and I only stayed for a bit before leaving for her Thursday afternoon prayer meeting. Both Toms stayed back and helped Earl hang his newly bought ceiling fan. This process took longer than expected due to an issue with the wiring to the switch. After hours of troubleshooting, they found the wiring issue and were able to resolve it. Not long after they returned from Sharon and Earl’s, we ate dinner and played games. Tom Senior won Yahtzee by a long stretch, rolling a whopping 3 yahtzees. Out on the deck, our screams had to have been heard for miles.
On Wednesday, my Mom and Tom took us for a tour of Arco’s neighboring towns. We started at a beautiful reservoir where we met up with Sharon and Earls daughter and her husband. They took us for quick cruise on the water, finishing at a steep cliff that sat over deep waters. They said that they had seen some kids jumping off of it the last time they were there. It didn’t take much convincing before Tom and I decided to take a jump. Although it couldn’t have been much higher than 15 feet, looking over the edge forced a queasy hesitation. Afterwards, we both buzzed, our high induced by cold water and pumping adrenaline. Our next stop was a site where you could view the seem created by an earthquake in the 1980’s. The size and length of the disruptive tear was apparent even with the regrowth that has occurred over time. The valley floor dropped 7 feet over a span of 20 miles. On our way to grab a bite to eat, we noticed a pasture off the road where a large herd of Elk were ranging. We quickly pulled over to observe them through our binoculars. Even at a distance you could hear their calls to one another. Next, we ate lunch at a small cafe before walking through an outdoor museum that displayed old mining equipment. It was cool to see how far engineering has come over time. Our last stop was a drive through Pass Creek. My Mom and Tom wanted to take us because they knew that we would appreciate the tall, unique rock formations that stretch throughout the canyon.
Thursday was Tom and my fourth year anniversary. That morning, we left Mogli with my Mom and headed towards Jackson. We had decided earlier in the trip that we wanted to attempt summiting the Grand Teton. Since Mogli couldn’t make this journey with us, we were grateful to be able to leave him in Arco. Once in Jackson we bought food for the trek, filled up with water and inquired about the hike at the visitor’s center. Even with all of our research, we still weren’t confident that we knew exactly what we were getting ourselves into. Since we didn’t have much else to do, we killed time that night by climbing a few routes near where we planned to camp. Our friends Nate and Kali (the couple we met in Lander) were also in town and met up with us to camp. They gave us the best anniversary present we could have asked for, which was playing a few rounds of codenames before bed.
Matt Dietrich, Tom’s buddy from high school, arrived in Jackson around 11a.m. on Friday. We had informed him a few weeks prior of our plans and he was onboard to come along. We did a little climbing that afternoon before organizing our gear and readying our packs. Each of our concerns were voiced in attempt to get on the same page before setting off on a long adventure together. Feeling as prepared as we’d ever be, we closed our eyes around 8p.m. with the intention of getting a few hours of sleep. Anxiety around the unknown made it difficult to do much more than toss and turn before our 12a.m. alarm. Tom was up and ready to go before I was even willing to emerge from the warmth of our covers. I shared his same excitement but not his pep. It was nearly 1a.m. before we were walking across the gravel parking lot that led to the start of our mission. The three of us each had a headlamp, but the blackness was still palpable all around us. Our ears became a second set of eyes that told us about the dark mystery on either side of the trail. Meeting each part of the path as we came to it instead of anticipating what we had not yet reached made each step feel less strenuous. The first couple of miles passed quickly on well traveled, easy to navigate terrain with the knowledge that, that was about to change. At the end of one of the trail’s switchbacks, we found a sign that pointed us up a large boulder field to our next landmark. Not only did we misjudge the direction the arrow was pointing, but it also gave us false hope that the landmark it was alluding to was closer than it actually was. We scrambled over large sharp boulders until stopped by a tall rock face. Since up was no longer an option, we side-hilled until we ran into a thick collection of trees that we had no intention of trying to hike through. We were fortunate to have hikers behind us that appeared to be on route. In order to track their location, we turned off our headlamps and watched them inch closer until we could finally converge with them, putting us back on track. We hadn’t been terribly far off, but didn’t want to risk wasting energy and finding ourselves further from our destination. The trail was once again easy to follow, but much more steep, causing us to gain elevation much more quickly. It didn’t take long before our legs began to burn and our breathing became labored. We were good about taking breaks, but did our best to charge while we were moving. At the top of the second set of switchbacks, the sun started spreading it’s light over what lay ahead of us. I can’t speak for the group, but I felt a bit disheartened when I saw how far we had just to get to the lower saddle. The lower saddle sits below the upper saddle, which sits below the more technical rock climbing that is required to reach the top. We started into the bowl that held a mixture of sand, stones and boulders, where the trail appeared to fade in and out. To our left, a steep, snow-covered hill had signs of travel, giving us the impression that we may be taking a few failed attempts at getting up it. Our boots hadn’t yet touched it, but it appeared to be slick. We were nearly at the intersection where we readied ourselves to hike up the snow, when some fellow hikers that were coming down, directed us straight up the rock that was in front of us. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect and we were grateful for their assistance. As we climbed up the wet, somewhat technical rock, they explained that they were coming off due to ominous appearing weather off in the distance. Thanking them for their help and insight, we continued on, wanting to see the sky with our own eyes before making any drastic decisions. Once upon the lower saddle, the western side of the mountain where the storm was brewing, came into view. There was no question that it had the potential of hitting us, but ultimately we didn’t want to believe it. The time was 7a.m. which meant we had been hiking for 6 hours and had our final destination in sight. We discussed our options while eating a snack and once finished, decided to keep going up. With our fingers and toes crossed, we prayed that the weather would miss us so we could reach our goal. “Let us get to the top,” was my internal mantra as we went from hiking to legitimate climbing with the clouds getting progressively darker. I could tell I was worn down, feeling both physically exhausted and emotionally panicked by the thought of how quickly things could turn. We passed multiple other groups making there way down. Some had finished and others were turning around early, not wanting to risk getting caught in unfavorable conditions. There was an underlying feeling that we were playing with fire, but we stubbornly pressed on with the hope that the storm would miss us. Just as we reached the upper saddle, the clouds opened up and rain began to fall. We each did what we could to find shelter from the wet, and frigid winds that came along with it. A few minutes passed before anyone spoke up. I sat leaning against a rock feeling disappointment and self pity. I had already visualized sitting at the top and hadn’t left room in the spectrum of possibilities for any other outcome. In that same moment, I looked behind me to where Tom was tucked within the cave and could tell he was doing whatever he could to preserve heat. He hadn’t brought as many layers as Matt and I, thinking that between moving and the sun, he’d be fine. I turned my gaze back to the elements and watched the rocks become saturated. As I processed the severity of our circumstances my mental dialogue quickly switched gears. “Let us all get down unharmed,” was my new request, knowing that I had to hold up my end and keep my head on straight. The three of us huddled and reached the consensus that we would head down instead of gambling on the weather. For me, this was the most challenging portion of the hike. Turning our backs on the summit to descend slippery rocks felt like trying to swallow a horse pill. Putting my pride on the back burner, I watched my step and bit my tongue, keeping my fears and complaints to myself. We slipped and stumbled our way back down to the lower saddle and by then, the rain was on and off. We continued down, making it back to the steep, snowy hill, where we relieved our stress with a little fun. Matt started it by pushing with his hiking poles to glide on his boots on the snow. It was entertaining to watch at first, but then we joined in. We soon realized that the further we traveled through the snow, the more time it might shave off our hike. The slight chance of time off our feet had all three of us sliding down the hill on our butts. This didn’t feel great on my cheeks since I was wearing thin spandex, but the 10 seconds of fun was worth it. For the most part we retraced our steps, passing groups that asked us if we summited, us responding with a long answer for no. The route wasn’t completely straight forward even in daylight. There were a few sections where we kept moving in the direction that we knew we needed to go without a clear path. After surviving the boulder field that sent us on a wild goose chase on the way up, my body was definitely feeling the effects of all that it had endured up until that point. The rest of the way back to the car was on an easy, gravel trail that seemed to lengthen since we came in. The sun was now out making the last few hours a hot trot. Emerging from the forest and onto the parking lot where we began our trek felt like crossing the finish line of a major race. I was so relieved that we were done, that we were safe and that we were brave enough to try. The first thing I did, was take my pruny, blistered feet out of my sauna-like boots and stretch my sore muscles. After sorting our gear and unpacking, we headed into town for a celebratory dinner that included a cold beer. Reaching our goals is a way that we tend to quantify ourselves throughout life. We set ones that we believe to be attainable, then make them a priority, sometimes at a high cost. What we at times fail to remember is the fact that our investments and sacrifices are only worth the payback that we receive. If along the way we’re too focused on the result, then not only do we miss the amazing lessons and blessings along the way, but we also set ourselves up for ultimate loss in the chance that we never make it.
I woke up on Sunday to a view of the Tetons highlighted by the morning gleam. The sight of their proportion commanded humility that I misconstrued as a sign of my own inadequacy. It was hard for me to accept the fact that we would be driving away, unsure of when or if we would again attempt it. My Dad put it well by saying: “You wanted a gold star on your report card, and instead you have an incomplete.” This observation gave me something to think about and helped me process my feelings of defeat. Driving back to Arco allowed time for Tom and I to reflect on the grueling 16 hours that we had spent on the mountain. Reminiscing about the roller coaster that it was, helped me to better respect and appreciate our efforts. After getting back to My Mom’s, the warm welcome that we received from her, Tom, and Mogli was the uplift that we needed. Over dinner, we recounted the prior day’s events and heard Mogli’s weekend report. It was our last night with my Mom, so we stayed up as long as we could keep our eyes open to spend time with her.
The next morning, we woke up with the intention of spending the morning at a nearby climbing area called, The Fins. It took us longer than expected to get our things in order and we decided not to stress or rush. Due to the delay, we only had time for a few climbs before getting back on the road. That night, we made it to Malta, ID where we set up camp and scarfed down a taco dinner.
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