Prospectors Mountain, SW Ridge to East Ridge Couloir

Prospectors Mountain. July 18, 2013 (written 8/18/2014).  After my climbs of the Grand and Symmetery Spire in the summer of 2012, I found myself hooked on the Tetons. After all, it a world-renown climbing area with great rock, great climbing resources (guidebooks and guides), and only 5-6 hours from home.  So a plan started to take shape.

To put this in perspective, in 2009 I retired after 30 years with the U. S. Forest Service. I was determined catch up on some lost time hiking and skiing. My first goal was to climb all the named 11,000 ft peaks in the Wasatch Range.  There are 18 of them, and some of the trailheads are less than 30 min from our home. They range from class 2 to some serious class 4 , depending on your choice of routes. Some are quite long efforts too...better plan on 10 - 12 hours for a few of them. I didn't rush out and bag them all in one summer -- I couldn't as I also had the ACLs of both knees rebuilt over the last 3 years.  So even now I haven't finished them all - the 4 southern ones remain.  But I don't figure that is a reason not to start a new goal.  Through time, I've decided my new goal is to climb all the major peaks in the Tetons also.  I am still working on defining the list, but just because the list is not completed is not a reason I should not move ahead.  Fortunately, I am going to count peaks done in the 1970s as legitimate achievements for this goal.  So, as of July 17, 2013, my completed list is:

Teewinot Mountain.  August 17, 1975
Symmetry Spire.  August 13, 1975 & August 28, 2012.
Grand Teton.  August 11, 2012.
Disappointment Peak.  August 30, 2012.

Today I am adding to the list. My objective is at the southern end of the range, and is the 11,241 ft Prospectors Mountain.  This peak defines, for me, the southern extent of climbing (perhaps the word scrambling is more appropriate in this case) in the range. Rendezvous Peak and Mt Hunt are further south....but Rendezvous is a ski area with a lift to the top, and Mt Hunt is a dangerous looking pile of sedimentary choss, and doesn't rise my somewhat arbitrary and inconsistently applied 11,000 ft minimum. There is really no need for me to pursue either.

My plan is to traverse the peak from west to east in order to learn two of the routes that Leigh Ortenburger and Reynolds Jackson cover in their guidebook.  So this is: up the Southwest Ridge (class 1 - 2), across the summit ridge and down the East Ridge Couloir (class 3). I left Death Canyon trail head at 06:45, and made my way to the entry to Open Canyon about an hour later. There are well maintained trails throughout. The Guide book says to continue up Open Canyon to about 8,960 ft and then turn northwest and make your way up to the saddle between Tukuarika Peak and Prospector. I found that if you wait til you get to 8,900 ft, you'll find your way blocked by a deeply cut and impassable gully.  Better to leave the trail about 8,600 ft, contour down to the creek, cross it easily, and then make your way up the far right side of the side canyon that leads to the saddle between the two peaks.This area is not visited often. I apparently moved quietly and at one point, there was some mutual surprise at close quarters for both me and a large mule deer buck....a pretty interesting moment for both he and I.

After my heart rate went back down, I worked my way east as I continued up the last third of the side canyon, so I was actually a couple hundred meters east of the saddle as I gained the ridge. The saddle had a pretty decent snow bank with a cornice on its south side, it didn't make sense to go through that.  At about 11:30, as I popped up on to the Southwest Ridge proper, I was greeted with a stunning view of the major peaks of the range to the north. This was the defining moment of of the day, although the experience with the buck was a close second. About 20 minutes later, I was at the west summit, and I stopped to get out of the wind and get some lunch in a protected spot. Then I moved on to the eastern summit, which is higher, arriving at 12:20. From there, I worked my way further east, looking for the entrance to the East Ridge Couloir. I had taken a pretty close look at it on the way up Open Canyon, and knew there are two places that would look correct as I passed along the ridge. The first, however, had a significant bank of snow at the top, and nasty cliff bands below. So I carefully choose the second entrance, which had no snow bank, and correctly entered the East Ridge Couloir. The next 2-1/2 hours included a bit of everything....scree, a short glissade (I took an ice ax), game trails, low angle cliff bands, brush, brush, and more brush.  When I hit the creek in Open Canyon, I simply went downstream until I intersected the trail after about 15 minutes.  Came across a mule deer buck near the trail. Unlike his kin who I met up canyon, he was quite used to people, and was not the least bit concerned even as I was 15 ft from him. From here, it was a warm hike on the trail to arrive at the trailhead about 5:30.

All in all, this was an enjoyable day -- good weather, nice views, easy route finding. The only negative was the brush at the bottom of the East Ridge Couloir. A better, and probably quicker, strategy would be to reverse your ascent route and descend via the Southwest Ridge.

The Saddle between Tukuarika Peak and Prospectors Mountain.  Avoid this cornice by staying to the right (east).

The Grand and adjacent peaks from the Southwest Ridge of Prospectors Mountain.

The east summit of Prospectors Mountain taken from the West Summit.  Note the peaks in the left background are Static Peak and Buck Mountain (far left).

The Grand from the East summit of Prospectors Mountain.

Symmetry Spire, SW Ridge

SW Ridge, Symmetry Spire. Aug 28, 2012 (wrtiten 8/13/2013)   I tried to climb Symmetry Spire via the Durrance Ridge on Aug 12, 1975. It proved too much for me....seemed like an affliction of altitude sickness. A few days later, however, I summitted via the class 4 northwest ledges.
   But of course, the desire to do a multi-pitch climb on Symmetry never really went away, no matter how many years slipped by. After our success climbing the Grand Teton just a few weeks earlier, my desire to climb some more had resurfaced. Problem was I knew few technical climbers at home in Sandy, Utah, although there are of course many. So the solution was obvious....I contacted Jackson Hole Mountain Guides, and soon was set up with guide. They recommended the Southwest Ridge of Symmetry Spire (10,546') rather than the Durrance ridge -- its more sustained, and a more fun experience. So the morning of Aug 28, 2012, my guide Keith and I grabbed the first boat across Jenny Lake and soon were hiking up Cascade Canyon.  The morning was perfect, and the forecast ideal as well.
    Keith and I had plenty of time to get acquainted on the hike up to the ridge. The difference was large - me the old retired guy, and him not long out of college and strong and enthusiastic. I was happy however, to keep up with him for most of the steep hike up Symmetry Couloir. Or at least he let me think so.  We did, however, catch up with another climber and guide (from Exum Mt Guides) who were hiking up to climb Symmetry as well. Not knowing their objective and wanting to get on the route first, we passed them by and never looked back.
   The Southwest Ridge route is 7 pitches of class 5, and then some class 4 on the summit ridge. It had been a very long time since I had done that much class 5. The crux (5.7) comes on the 3rd pitch as the route moves on the right side of a prominent dihedral.

The Southwest Ridge route on Symmetry Spire.

   We started the climb about 9:30 am, and I was happy it started off easy; good for me to get comfortable with communicating with Keith and belaying the way he asked. We got a good rhythm going; we could get through a pitch in about 35 minutes. The crux seemed a bit impressive at first, but as my turn came, I was able to take advantage of the awesome grip that Teton rock has for a climbing shoe and things went well. The fourth pitch also seemed challenging at first; it included a small blocky fractured roof that fortunately had great holds. About this time, I heard the voices of the climbers we had passed. They appeared to be on the Durrance Ridge. Keith and I were sure to use each others' names on our signals to avoid confusion.

Looking up from a belay stance about half way up the climb.  This is a 5.6 pitch.

   We did 3 more class 5 pitches. One memorable one was probably at the 5th pitch, where the best holds are found by stepping left above a particularly airy face with (I think) an slight outward bulge. I found this short move to be as exciting as the crux, although it was easier climbing. Soon we were done with the fifth class work, and changed into approach shoes for the scramble along the ridge. There was a spot or two, however, where the exposure was impressive and I was not unhappy that Keith continued to belay me as needed. Guides are cool.
    We got to the summit about 1:30 pm, had lunch, and started an easy walk down the northwest ledges until we could pass over to the top of the Symmetry Couloir. Then down on the typical loose scree. After a bit, we stopped and Keith graciously detoured and retrieved the gear we had left at the base of the climb. Although we had not had a long day by any means, I was tired from the effort and took my time down the couloir to Cascade Trail. We made the Jenny Lake boat a bit before 5pm. As we had passed the Durrance Ridge we still heard shouts of climbers from high up. Seems like the other party was having a longer day and it seemed unlikely they would make the last boat. I was very glad we had with time to spare.
   Even though it required a 37-year break and the highly capable services of a mountain guide, I couldn't have been happier to finish up this long delayed climb on Symmetry Spire. There was some celebration over beer and pizza that night....

Grand Teton, West Face via Pownall-Gilkey Route

Grand Teton, Aug 10-11, 2012 (written 7/22/2013).  While climbing in the Tetons in 1975, of course I could not help but look at the Grand Teton and think about a climb of it.  I didn't have the gear or the time in those days, and I remember thinking that was okay, and it seems that climbing it should be done with a partner who I knew well and got along with great.  Or, maybe with a woman who held a special place in my heart.

The Grand Teton from Jackson Hole.

    When my wife and I married in 2004, I knew she might like to climb something like Mt. Rainer sometime in the future. I hadn't done any climbing in years, but I had kept up with hiking, and in my years with the U. S. Forest Service, I'd spent many days of difficult cross country travel doing vegetation transects or fire suppression. No question I was still an "outdoor" person. I can't remember exactly how our conversations settled on the Grand Teton (13,766'). Maybe a motorcycle trip we took to Jackson one Fall.  Maybe just the need to always push a little. Or maybe the realization that in 1975 I promised myself to come back to climb the Grand.  I don't remember whether it was Betsy or I that finally said, "Let's do it!", but in Fall of 2011, Betsy started going to our local climbing gym. And then as soon as skiing ended in 2012, I started hiking constantly. A couple of years before I had made an objective to hike/climb all of the peaks greater than 11,000' in the Wasatch Range, and I ramped up that effort up to get in shape for the Grand.  But I had no up-to-date climbing gear, nor did I know the route well enough to lead our intrepid group of two, so the obvious thing to do was to get a guide. I talked first to Exum and got a sort of rude comment from them about short roping that told me they considered us essentially tourists and probably incompetent as well.That doesn't exactly describe either me or my former triathlete spouse. That eliminated Exum from my plans, and I promptly called Jackson Hole Mountain Guides (JHMG) and was very happy to be treated nicely and with a appropriate level of respect. It was easy to see they were the company to go with. So, on Aug 9, we took their one day multi-pitch climbing class on some crags near Jackson. Betsy quickly converted her climbing gym experience to the real world, and I was happy to be able to top-rope a 5.9 move.

   On Aug 10, we shouldered our big backpacks about 11 am at Lupine Meadows and made our way toward JHMG's Corbett High Camp in upper Garnet Canyon. Betsy has always made better time hiking than I, so she and our guide Steve Q. quickly motored away from me in the last half hour of our haul up the canyon to camp. As I made my way up, I watched as ominous looking clouds came steadily in from the west.  The wind picked up just as I made the Camp's shelter. Along with Betsy and Steve I found 2 other guides and and 4 or 5 other clients. Someone gave me a hot drink as we were all startled by a bright flash of lightening and crack of thunder when the skies let loose a torrent of rain and hail. I had barely made it in time. About 30 minutes later, the path outside the hut had 3 inches of marble sized hail, and it looked more like winter than summer. Eventually the stormed moved on across Jackson Hole, leaving us wondering what that meant for our climb the next day.

   But as the guides prepared dinner, the sky started to lighten. Then as we settled into one of many tents slightly uphill from the hut, the skies in the west cleared and we actually enjoyed a brief and beautiful alpine sunset. I knew then that we were probably okay with the weather.

   We sleep okay, but not great, through the night, and are awake at 4 am. We fill our small climbing packs with lunch, warm clothes, and climbing harnesses and flick on our headlamps to make our way to the hut. Steve is there, heating breakfast. After eating, we do a last check of our gear and head out about 4:30. We descend slightly to the trail that goes to the lower saddle, stash some gear to pick up as we pass this spot later our our way down to Lupine Meadows. It's quite dark, and no stars tell us it's socked in.

   We arrive at the lower saddle just as there is some light, but we still need the headlamps. Steve speaks briefly to another guide who has been here for an hour. The report is there have been some flashes of lightening to the west. This is not a good sign, but Steve says the best course of action is to continue to the upper saddle and see how the weather is then. We make decent time up, with me of course as the slowest. I've never been good with early starts, it takes until about 8 am before I start to feel really good. The trip up the broad gully from the lower to the upper saddle is a mixture of class 2 to 4. It's locally known as the Idaho Express. We briefly roped up to pass a slab area known as Briggs' Slabs, but it's overall really a pretty good scramble; Steve knows the path perfectly. Soon, we near the top of the gully, pass Lunch Rock and move quickly to the lower saddle proper. Two things are imprinted for me:  first, it's really cold and windy, the down jacket and the wool gloves are an absolute necessity. Second, the skies suddenly clear, and it is obvious that a fog bank has sat covering the mountain all morning. To every other direction, the sky is mostly clear.  So clearly we will continue to the summit from here.

    As one looks to the peak from the lower saddle, the Owens-Spalding route is to the left and up. The Exum guides take their clients up that route. The Pownal-Gilkey route from the saddle is to the right and up. We'll go that way. We put on our harnesses and try to warm our hands, as Steve uncoils our rope. We tie in, with Betsy in the middle, and Steve carefully walks across some 4th class ledges and slabs to the first belay point. We follow, one at a time, and Betsy enjoys her first big mountain alpine scrambling. I think she was happy Steve was belaying her over, and when I went, I didn't mind it either. After catching up to Steve and Betsy, I settle in to a belay position and Steve climbs up and soon clears the crux of this route. It's slightly open left facing chimney with a crack in the middle. The problem here is the route is often wet, and after last evening's rain, it is soaked. No way for us to climb a wet 5.8 in approach shoes, so Steve leaves us a couple of long slings and direct aid is the name of the game. That's quite an introduction to climbing for Betsy, but she does really well with a little bit of coaching from below. I follow and clean the slings and make my way up to the belay. Above this point, it's dry, easy climbing (5.6), and just plain fun. After we top out,we move left a ways to Sargent's Chimney and encounter people coming down from the summit. So Steve maneuvers us a little to the left and we climb a short 4th class slab and face and quickly get past the congestion. Then more easy scrambling, and at 10:15 am, we break into sunlight on the top of the Grand. It's a precious moment for Betsy and I; her first big mountain, and my return to Teton climbing after 37 years, and most important, we did it together. It's tough to match this.

This picture shows the start of the Pownal-Gilkey route.  The first belay is at the end of the 4th class traverse.

Betsy and Dan on the summit of the Grand Teton.

    At the summit, we sent a text message or two and start lunch.  A few moments later, we are surprised to see two people - a young man and woman - pop up onto the summit in running outfits and bright florescent training shoes.  What is going on?  They have come up the west side, probably the Owens-Spalding route, we surmise.  They walked around for a couple of moments, with the woman actually slipping in a puddle of water and barely caught herself before falling full force on Betsy. (Hope her balance is better on her descent!)  Another person on the summit suggested the man was Kilian Jornet Burgada, a professional trail runner. I did a little bit of research later and found it was indeed him, and his partner was Emelie Forsberg, a Swede. Apparently, they ran up from Lupine Meadows and down that morning, with Emelie setting a woman's record of 3 hr, 51 min, car to car. Kilian set the men's record the next day.

    We finished lunch and went a slightly different route down for the first few minutes, going along the Sunnyside exit from the summit and staying in the sun rather than immediately dropping into the cold west side. The descent is straight-forward, climbing down the Sargent's Chimney, then eventually doing a rappel down to just above the upper saddle. Then a long hike and scramble down, this time passing the Eye of the Needle.

    Not too much to add to for the trip down.  It took us a while...unlike Kilian and Emelie. We made it to Lupine Meadows about 6:30 pm. Plenty of time to get showers and then head to Dornan's in Moose to celebrate with beer and pizza. We both were very happy, it was a good two days.
 

Ancient History plus Teewinot Moutain East Face.

An Introduction, plus Teewinot Mountain and other peaks.  Today, on 19 July 2013, I am starting the recording of my adventures climbing the major peaks of the Grand Teton Range.  The primary purpose is to improve my notes for future reference.  The secondary purpose is to post my experiences so that others may benefit from what I have learned.  It's a trip record, and also a diary. What's a bit out of the ordinary is that I am starting the record retroactively....all the way back to August of 1975, when I embarked on this adventure. Enjoy.....

8 Aug 1975.  I've loaded my 1966 blue Chevy Malibu with my few possessions and leave my hometown of Independence, Missouri on my way to Edmonton, Alberta via the Grand Tetons of Wyoming. I was definitely not an uber experienced rock climber, but had spent my fair share of hours climbing the limestone cliffs along the Missouri River near my college town of Columbia. I had also been to the top of Long's Peak in Colorado....a long but not technical effort. I had a modest amount of gear, and a hint from a professor friend to stay at the American Alpine Club's Climber's Ranch near Moose, Wyoming, in the Grand Teton National Park. There I would find other climbers to partner with to get my first exposure to technical rock climbing on the big peaks. I was perhaps, shall we say, not fully prepared for the size and complexity the Tetons offered, but hey, you gotta start somewhere. And since I was going to be in grad school at the University of Alberta, a short distance from the Canadian Rockies, there was a lot of climbing planned in my future.

9 Aug 1975.  When one approaches the Tetons from Jackson on a clear day, the view is, in a word, stunning.  The Grand and it's surrounding attendants pretty much leaves a person from the flat lands speechless. The other thing I notice is the air is not as dense here, and I wonder what that will mean....

11 Aug 1975.  I have checked in at the Climber's Ranch.  It's a small collection of dark brown cabins in the flats of Jackson Hole, surrounded by park-like cottonwood, lodgepole pine, and sagebrush. I am soon talking to other climbers, a collection of those who range from those who are inexperienced, all the way up to those who are actually brash enough to complain about what their climbing rivals are doing in places like Nepal. It's a new world for me.

12 Aug 1975.  I know I need to get something going;  I have bought Leigh Ortenburger's 1965 "A Climber's Guide to the Tetons".  After 1971, the book was out of print, and being revised. What I got was the "Condensed Version" to fill in for 1973-1975, only 144 pages, covering the major peaks. Being pamphlet style, was easily small enough to carry in a pocket or pack. I still use it today.  Anyway, yesterday I talked with another climber, John Rigley (a grad student or professor at Princeton Univ, can't remember which), and we decide to climb the Durrance Ridge on Symmetry Spire (10,546'). It's supposedly about 6 pitches of F5.4 with some class 4 in between the class 5 areas. Seemed like a good starter. What of course we found after crossing Jenny Lake on the Park boat was a long approach up a very brushy couloir.  Not used to this rarefied air of over 7000', I struggled. But nonetheless we started the climb.  John led two pitches, and I followed.  But after those two pitches, I found exactly what altitude sickness feels like.  I wasn't going to finish this climb.  We rappelled down. I felt bad for John, I'd ruined his climb.  It was my first pitches in the Tetons, which was significant for a guy from Missouri.  It was also a lesson learned.

13 Aug 1975.  So now I knew I needed to work up to these endeavors, both getting used to the altitude, and the immensity of the place.  I wanted to get to the top of the peak I'd failed at, and what I found was a class 4 route -- the Northwest ledges of Symmetry Spire.  So, on the morning of August 13, I coughed up a few more bucks and caught the boat ride across Jenny Lake.  I diligently worked up to Hanging  Valley to Ramshead Lake, turned left and headed up the couloir between Symmetry Spire and Symmetry Crags.  Then I encountered easy scrambling....almost a path in many places, and made it to the summit about 4 hours from leaving the boat. The guidebook said it would take 5-1/4 hours, so maybe I was starting to acclimatize.  In any case, this was my first Teton summit; I was damn happy.  I didn't know at that time I would return to it many years later.

1975. Me on the summit of Symmetry Spire.  In the backgrount, note Teewinot on the left and Mt Owen and the Grand Teton  merged together optically on the right.  There is much more snow on these peaks than the 2012 or 2013 season.  Global Warming?

16 Aug 1975.  I took some time off to get used to the altitude, and felt good by today.  I don't remember who my partner was, but today we are climbing the Southwest Ridge of Storm Point (also known as Guide's Wall).  We planned on about 9 pitches of 5.7.  I started off the lead on pitch 1.  Getting to my first belay point, I soon learned a basic problem in the Tetons:  the weather.  After belaying my partner on the second pitch, a very hard rain started.  Maybe we should have looked closer at the sky before starting this.  So we rappelled down, and once again I was heading down that brushy couloir after not completing a climb. This time, of course, it was wet brush, and we stayed completely soaked.

17 Aug 1975.  Sometime early in the morning, about sunrise, I left the Lupine Meadows parking lot to climb the East Face of Teewinot Mountain (12,317'). It is class 4 route, and with there being no climbers at the ranch interested in anything less than class 5, I was once again on my own. I remember this was a spectacular climb....great views, some route finding, and up close views of the rest of the big peaks of the range, I was getting use to the altitude by now, with my ascent taking 6 hours.

Looking at the upper slopes of Teewinot Mountain as I approach the summit.

The small summit pyramid of Teewinot (left) with the Grand Teton in the background.

19 Aug 1975.   I am ready to get a big route under my belt at this stage.  Once again, I had to find a partner.  One fellow was itching to do Serendipity Arete on Mt Owen (12,922'). Several pitches of 5.7, one of 5.9, and plenty of class 4 along the route. Leigh Ortenburger describes it: "This enjoyable climb is consistently interesting and nowhere excessively difficult." While I felt some concern because we were going to do it in one day, and it's a very long approach via Cascade and Valhalla Canyons (we didn't have gear to camp out) I once again proceeded ahead. We made made our way through these canyons, scrambled at length to get to the base of the climb. We took turns leading and my partner was able to free climb the crack the first ascent party used direct aid to get past. Somewhere near the top of the first tower we assessed our rate of progress and what was left ahead of us. We now knew that we had started the climb much to late, and the likely hood of a late summit arrival and the threat of bad weather was staring us in the face.  So we opted to be conservative and rappel and downclimb. I didn't know for sure at the time this was really the right decision; I hated to leave the route. My experiences in the Canadian Rockies in the next three years eventually told me it was the right decision. Neither the Tetons or the Rockies are the mountains to be late on with inadequate equipment. We didn't approach this route the way it should have been approached.  Once again, I learned a lot.

I left the Tetons a day or two later. Starting during the upcoming winter, I climbed for several years in the Canadian Rockies between Banff and Jasper, and the learning experiences of the Tetons gave me a great foundation for a long list of mixed snow and rock climbs in an area of world class  mountaineering. I lost contact with the Tetons as a result. But I never forgot. In 2012, they were back in my life, as I'll describe in following blogs.