A Quiet Moment
June 26, 2009
Grand Teton National Park
I woke to the sound of rain on my tent around 5:30AM after fitful sleep. I drifted in and out for another two hours, hoping the storm would pass. At 7:30AM, I put on my raingear, got up and brushed my teeth west of camp and settled into the Guide's Hut. In about an hour, the women arrived and there we stayed as the rain became slushy big snow flakes. For three hours we were confined to the hut, sitting around until the sun finally popped out.
Darren and I went out immediately to run through snow school while the women did some simple top rope work ont he boulders around camp. Snow school consisted of self arrest techniques: sliding on your back feet first, sliding on your belly head first, sliding on your belly feet first, and the most disconcerting, sliding on your back head first as you might if you lost your balance with a heavy pack on. We practiced glissading (sitting and standing) as well as short rope technique while the women worked on their climbing calls: "ON BELAY", "CLIMBING", "CLIMB". After snow school, we went back to the hut and had a quick snack, then grabbed our harnesses, ropes and ice tools to try our hand on "The Bunny Ears" formation on The Watchtower. The first part of the southern crack system wasn't hard, just inconvenient in a sort of overhanging chimney you had to wedge up with all your layers and the clumsy mountaineering boots. The chimney opened up just about 10' below the summit of the first pitch. Then we crawled out to tand on a ridge of snow, facing northwest, above a couloir that descends nearly vertically for, hell, a LONG goddamn way, below Disappointment Peak. We edge around the ridge before Darren led up a short 15' ascent just to the west of the ears. I climbed up to the anchor, but was getting seriously spooked by the exposure: 1000'+ feet down the snow on one side, 200'+ of vertical rock on the other. Son, you are NOT in Joshua Tree anymore with little 175' pitches.
Anchored to Watchtower
I went to my tent to swap my sunglasses for regular glasses and found my tent had been annhilated! Tent poles, shattered and bent, had carved gashes into the fly and after going straight back to the hut to tell Darren, he, Sam and Doug swung into fervent action. The guides and I donned all our cold weather gear and they dismantled the shattered shelter as I jammed and stuffed haphazardly everything that had been so neatly arranged as fast as possible into stuff sacks. We tossed all the tent's contents into the hut and Darren, Doug and Sam pulled down the tent.
Tent Assembly
We were all frigid and soaked, but I certainly felt proud afterwards and I'm sure the guides felt a definite sense of manly accomplishment, as they damn well should considering what it was like. After an hour had passed, we reloaded the tent with pads and sleeping bags and all my stuff sacks and bags and I set to reorganizing and drying things. As I write this, the wind is hammering again so bad I've had to resort to ear plugs. Darren's plan is a 4AM evaluation of conditions tomorrow morning and, if he likes what he sees, he'll wake me.
Scottish Conditions
It was one thing, 12 months ago, to sit in the Curly Bear Cafe in Glacier National Park and academically say "I will try to climb that next year. I will make that my goal." It's another thing entirely to be here, tonight, in this tent, surrounded by fresh hail, fresh snow, and cold night sky. I am surrounded by the reality of my own decisions. It is daunting.