Teton Vision Quest - Part 2

September 20-23, 2007

Friday night was the perfect end to a perfect day - no wind and the warmest night I have had in the mountains for awhile - above 40 degrees all night. This is the kind of weather that can only precede a storm, so I expected I would see some precipitation before the end of my trip. Saturday morning dawned mostly clear, but clouds soon moved in. I packed up, sad to leave my little meadow behind.

Leave No Trace successful?

I climbed the Sheep Steps, following the trail beneath this overhanging cliff.

Two Clark's Nutrackers (birds) were flapping around at the top of the cliff, dislodging small pebbles that clattered down onto the trail. Beyond this cliff, it's a short climb to Mt. Meek Pass (9700 ft). I met a ranger just below the pass. He was friendly once he learned that I was carrying a bear canister - he was tired of having to kill or relocate bears that have become dependent on human food. His advice in the case of a bear encounter: throw rocks at it to show you are the dominant bear. Thankfully I never had a chance to see if his method actually works. He also gave me a weather report: storm coming in tonight that will probably "put an end to backpacking for the season."

Mt. Meek Pass is the gateway to the Death Canyon Shelf, a three-mile-long mostly-level high bench - hiker's bliss.

Looking ahead at the Death Canyon Shelf

Near the end of the Death Canyon Shelf, looking back on Grand Teton and Mt. Meek Pass

I passed six other hikers on the shelf, then stopped at the end for lunch before making the knee-beating 1000-ft switchbacked descent into Death Canyon.

Grand Teton from Death Canyon with clouds building overhead

Death Canyon is quite the misnomer - a name more suited to a desert in Arizona than to this glacial basin so filled with life. I even found a few confused wildflowers blooming.

Castilleja - Indian Paintbrush

A late geranium

All of the valleys have large Engelmann Spruce, but the trees in this Death Canyon are the largest. I counted 300 rings in a fallen tree that had been cut to clear the trail. I stopped to hug the trees, and took my picture by one of the two largest trees - nearly five feet in diameter at the bottom and well over 100 feet tall.

A well-made bridge across Death Canyon Creek

As I reached the end of the Death Canyon camping zone, I chose a campsite up on a rock outcrop and had my tent set up by 2:30. It didn't take long for the rain to start, light at first then intensifying, and continuing with only one short break until 11 pm. I read in the tent, dozed for awhile, made use of my waterproof matches to make dinner in the rain, and climbed down to the creek to filter water. The steep slopes down to the rushing stream, combined with the cool rain, reminded me much more of highland Ecuador than dry Wyoming. I slept well, stayed completely dry thanks to a good and well-anchored rainfly, and woke to find that the rain had stopped but clouds were still rolling overhead. As I packed up my wet gear, I heard a grunting sound - a bull moose walking by my camp.

There is a moose in this picture - at center. Never got a very good look at it.

The final five miles out carried me 1500 feet down to Phelps Lake, then 500 feet up over a ridge.

Morning clouds and fog

An island of bright aspens

Looking down-canyon at Phelps Lake from one of the four long switchbacks

Getting closer...

Walking along the talus slopes, I saw and heard many pikas - extremely cute little lagomorphs that I will sorely miss upon my return to the lowlands. Pikas are difficult to photograph, as they move quickly and tend to disappear into one of the thousands of holes in the talus when humans approach.

Pika (center) and autumn leaves

After the long descent, the 500 feet up to the ridge is a real pain (I thought I was hiking down out of the mountains...). The top of the ridge does, however, afford brilliant views of Phelps Lake.

I called Nick from the top of the ridge - he and Chrissy spent the weekend in Yellowstone and were scheduled to pick Ryan up at the airport at 11 am. My timing was about perfect - and Ryan was a little late - so they arranged to pick me up at the trailhead and take me back to my car.

As I was humming my way along the final descent, I was silenced by a young Slovakian man giving me the shhh finger. He had spotted a bear - the only bear I saw on my visit - a rather small, brown-colored black bear about 100 feet from the trail. We watched the bear for awhile and talked about his experience in the U.S. (came here to learn English and had been working in Idaho Falls - this was his first wild bear sighting).

Black bear

Then, just like a rude American, my cell phone rings, and I have no choice but to answer it and give Nick directions as to where to meet me. A half-hour later, I meet them on the road, and before noon I am back in my car with my iPod, heading north to Huckleberry Hot Springs.

Huckleberry Hot Springs are a well-kept secret - clothing optional warm natural pools just north of Teton park. The Park Service has posted warning signs about the possible presence of Naegleria fowleri, a pathogenic brain-eating amoeba that lives in warm water. As it turns out, this species is nearly ubiquitous in warm waters - lakes, rivers, and hot springs - but infection is extremely rare. On average, 2-5 people are infected in the US each year, and they all die. But very few infections are linked to hot springs, and infection requires water up the nose. I washed my face in the springs, so now I have something new to worry about, though there are no known cases of infection at Huckleberry or indeed anywhere in Wyoming, so I expect that my brain is not about to be eaten.

I was the only one at the springs - probably because clouds had moved in again and were dropping rain and some sleet. I soaked in various pools at about 100 degrees - a great feeling after four days of walking, and somewhat enhanced by the cold rain falling on my shoulders while I was comfortably warm. After nearly two hours in and out of the pools, I gathered up my wet clothes and made my way back to my car. As I passed the high peaks, the clouds were breaking up, making for some very tempting pictures.

Tetons in the clouds

On the road again (point-and-shoot, so I am surprised it turned out this well)

I stopped for groceries and tasty pizza in Jackson, then drove through steady, heavy rain back to Pinedale, my adventure complete.