On May 27th Vinny Gwinn and I climbed and skied the Ford-Stettner route on the Grand Teton, the likely punctuation to another phenomenal ski mountaineering season in the Tetons.
Last year I skied the Grand Teton on June 9th with Carl Osterburg as the cap to my 2022 season, and this year, especially with some old tendonitis demons grumbling, I think my ski season will once again end with the tallest and most magnificent peak of the Teton Range. My partner du’ jour was Vinny Gwinn, one of the few remaining ski soldiers of the Tetons. Our original intentions involved a different route, once of increased severity and significance, but after discovering an astonishing snow-line of approximately 13,000 following the previous week’s moisture, we feared the lower half, which skis to about 12,500 feet in no-fall terrain, could be bullet ice. We made an on-the-fly audible to the hyper classic Ford-Stettner, a slightly more forgiving route for the confident ski mountaineer, and earned a spicy yet surprisingly fun descent in true mixed bag conditions – a fitting cap to a season best summed by four words: “making lemonade from lemons.”
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The weather was mostly cloudy, breezy and significantly colder than the past two weeks, and we were hoping for “dust on crust” ski mountaineering without the threat or rush of solar warming. We casted off from Lupine Meadows at 02:50 in tennis shoes, reached the Meadows on near-exclusively dry trail by 04:20, switched to skis and skinned for all of 15 minutes before cache’ing weight beneath the steep headwalls of Garnet Canyon’s North Fork, and entered summer mountaineering mode – boots and crampons, skis on packs, somewhere around the break of dawn. I began feeling the wrath of cumulative late-season fatigue as we marched up Spalding and Teepee Glaciers, my left patellar tendon moaning with every other step and my shoulders feeling like Jesus himself added a twenty pound dumbbell to my pack. Vinny was especially useful for maintaining a steady pace, and we front pointed our way to Glencoe Col by 07:30. Around this point we nixed our original inspiration, the mythical, prized and elusive Otterbody Snowfield, due to thinner than expected coverage and probable ice conditions on the lower hanging snowfield. Style is becoming increasingly more important than simply “scoring the tick” these days, and scratching around on the edge of the world seemed both poor form and undesirable. Instead, “since we’re already up here”, we set eyes to the world classic Ford-Stettner, a route we had both climbed and skied several times. The ice in the Stettner and Chevy Couloirs varies by the year and season, but contrary to reports we received a few weeks ago citing very little ice, we found nearly consistent neve or alpine ice up to AI3-, suggesting the route must have melted, shed and consolidated over the last prolonged warm spell. Nevertheless the ropes stayed in the packs, and we enjoyed a pleasant ~170 linear meters of quality, casual, tandem soloing. The ice was a mixed bag, ranging from mid-winter water ice to sunbaked rot, and I enjoyed clipping into the odd fixed anchor to get some pictures of Vinny doing the devil’s tango. Amidst intensifying weather we reached the Ford at 09:15, and the 13,775 foot summit at 10:30.
Sitting on top of the Grand Teton in pleasant ambient warmth and minimal wind, enjoying a Range Bar and the company of a good friend, I had a spiritual shift – this would almost certainly be the last turns of my Teton ski season – and I was fulfilled by that. A sunny weather break that accompanied the final half hour of our climb, just after the above picture was taken, devolved to dense fog and driving wind ushering urgency. We dropped in from the highest snow-point on Exum Ridge and enjoyed variable cowboy powder on a chunky crust for several hundred feet of brilliant 40-45 degree hop turns. Towards the main constriction of the Ford new snow thinned to bulletproof spring glaze spiked with runnels, testing my recent three degree bevel from Peaked Sports and jump turning capability, especially at the final rollover above the Chevy where slope angles tip in excess of 50 degrees. Though I have skied the Upper Chevy before, today wouldn’t be the day for such foolery, and we switched back to crampons at our gear stash on Petzoldt Col.
To expedite descent we down-climbed to the precipice of the steep ice in the lower Chevy before roping up for four rappels, escorted by an onslaught of thunder graupel that created an intense river of ice pellets which ripped down the Chevy-Stettner matrix like a running river – it added to the ambiance. By the time we coiled ropes the Grand was caked in rime and all of Garnet Canyon was shrouded in dense clouds that reeked of lightning. I think it rained pretty hard below 12,000 feet, as the snow on Teepee Glacier was damp as all hell – but hey, it’s May 27th, and I’ll trade slush for sun-cups any day.
Thirteen and a half hours later I was sitting in my van nursing swollen knees, picking at blisters and reflecting on a season well skied. The driving rain that characterized the on-foot egress from the Meadows had receded to a pleasant sunny afternoon, and I lounged about a good while snacking on fresh fruit and absorbing some shirtless Vitamin D. I regretfully cancelled plans to ski in Open Canyon the following day because well, I just didn’t think my body could handle it. Learning to respect my natural cues without judgement is becoming more pertinent as I move into my late twenties, as the days of endlessly railing on my joints and tendons juxtapose against the demand for extra calories, ice packs and sleep, as the requirement for Monday mental acuity becomes an integral part of my material life. Is that light duty? I don’t know – maybe I am getting soft, but I prefer to think I’m growing wise.
I drove out of the park in a contemplative mood, and as I pulled over to grab an ice cold seltzer the shark’s fin of the Grand Teton pierced the clouds with a godly sun-reflective glow. The only word I could manifest was gratitude – what a special place these Tetons are. After five ski descents of the Grand, I still can’t foresee it ever growing old. As Jackson legend Jimmy Chin wrote in Fifty Classic Ski Descents of North America: “Every time up and down the Grand is a gift.“
Other Grand Teton Trip Reports:
- June 9th, 2022 – Ford-Stettner
- March 30th, 2022 – Southeast Ridge/Workman-Starr (solo)
- January 19th, 2022 – Ford-Stettner
- May 15th, 2020 – Ford-Stettner
Ten Thousand Too Far is generously supported by Icelantic Skis from Golden Colorado, Barrels & Bins Natural Market in Driggs Idaho, Range Meal Bars from Bozeman Montana and Black Diamond Equipment. Give these guys some business – who doesn’t need great skis, gear and wholesome food?
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DISCLAIMER
Ski mountaineering, rock climbing, ice climbing and all other forms of mountain recreation are inherently dangerous. Should you decide to attempt anything you read about in this article, you are doing so at your own risk! This article is written to the best possible level of accuracy and detail, but I am only human – information could be presented wrong. Furthermore, conditions in the mountains are subject to change at any time. Ten Thousand Too Far and Brandon Wanthal are not liable for any actions or repercussions acted upon or suffered from the result of this article’s reading.
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