Teton TR: "I'll Sleep When I'm Dead," Mt. Moran 5/20/06

**alpinepronghorn** · 05-23-2006, 04:36 PM

Usually, my trip reports begin with the blare of an alarm clock at some ungodly hour. It's pretty much the same story most of the time: me, stumbling bleary eyed to the kitchen to fry up some egg and sausage burritos, NH Tele or Arg loading up the car for an alpine start on a Teton objective.

This time was a little different.

I got home from work around 6pm Friday afternoon to find NH Tele peeling the wrapper off a new bar of yellow wax, a steaming iron at his feet. The weather called for an overnight low in the 50's in town, and even with more than 6,000' of vertical, we knew that Mt. Moran's skillet glacier would be soft and wet. No more going over the handlebars, we agreed, and so we let our skis soak up two coats of the slick stuff. All the while we wondered if the weather and heat would hold off long enough to let us slip to the summit and ski this classic, proud line.

We loaded skis, food an overnight gear into the back of the subie, and then hoisted our approach vehicle onto the roof-rack: a canoe. Weeks ago we had tried to ski the skillet, approaching by bike and skiing across frozen lakes to the base of the route before turning around in the rain. This time we would take a different tack, paddling several miles across Jackson Lake.

We reached the put-in at 8:30, with the last of the evenings alpenglow still lighting the tips of the Tetons. We quickly loaded the canoe, and, pushing off into the gathering darkness, began our adventure. Following the shoreline, we paddled for nearly an hour before we reached bearpaw bay, and were faced with the looming silhouette of our objective.

Turning into Bearpaw bay, we paddled with the wind and waves to the outlet of Skillet creek. Once there we unloaded the canoe and passed out in the sand for a quick one-hour's rest before beginning our ascent at midnight. The night was warm, but with our food serving as bear bait and the prospect of the impending ascent thick in our thoughts, neither of us caught more than a few minutes rest.

Midnight came quickly. Choosing running shoes for the first semi-thawed miles of game trail, we hoisted our packs and trudged into the forest, following the unfrozen postholes of previous parties into the night.

For the next six hours I didn't take a photograph, so words will have to do. It was dark, but we could make out the profile of the summit and the notch at the base of the handle toward which we were climbing. Once on the floor of the bowl, we switched into ski boots and began skinning up onto the glacier. With only a mental image of the rock bands to navigate by, we hugged the (climbers) right wall as the runnelled snow grew steeper and steeper.

After an hour or so we ditched our skins atop a large boulder, and continued boot-packing up the right-hand side of the snowfield. With no moon, and only stars to see by, we misjudged how far right we had climbed, and before long found ourselves in a steep, narrow gully with cliffs separating us from the main glacier. Realizing our mistake, we tried to traverse across a narrow band of snow, but like the couloir it too ran out. Forced to retrace our steps down out of the gully, we glumly began descending 800' of hard-won vertical. For a time, it seemed, things were not going our way.

As soon as we regained the snowfield, however, our situation began to improve. Our spirits lifted by once again being on the right track, we were most inspired by the waning half-moon that rose saffron on the horizon. Breaching the clouds, it cast enough light that we were able to turn off our headlamps and climb by moonlight. Warm, awake, and on the right track, we spent the next few hours in near silence, pausing only for a single snack and to watch a pair of frightening rockfalls break the stillness of our climb.

Sunrise found us high in the handle. Here, overnight lows had dipped below freezing, and we were glad to have hauled crampons with us. As the sky turned from purple to pink, I climbed to the edge of the couloir to look south to the Cathedral Peaks. Bathed in morning alpenglow, they were as beautiful as I've ever seen them.

Looking down, I could see the whole of our descent bathed in pink light, with Jackson lake beyond. Having stopped to switch into crampons, NHTele gives a sense of scale to the massive handle couloir.

I reached the top of the couloir soon after, and waited for NHTele on the rocky shoulder of the line. After more than six hours of climbing, the steep reaches of the upper handle's extension couloir seemed to go on forever. With smooth snow that promised to soften nicely by the time we began our descent, however, it looked to be a perfect line.

The top of the couloir, contrary to the guidebook, was neither corniced nor remarkably steep, at least in comparison to the glacier route on the middle. None the less, it was remarkably positioned high on this massive peak, and it was a relief to have the climbing portion of our trip all but over.

The summit lay only a few hundred feet away, and so we climbed the final ridge to the snow-covered summit, skis glinting in the morning sun.

Reaching the summit fulfilled a long-deferred goal of mine, but with the descent still to come we had yet to reach the climax of the trip. Still, we took a moment to marvel at the panoramic views of the entire Teton Range, while at the same time hastened toward making our descent by the dark storm clouds moving toward us.

continued...

**alpinepronghorn** · 05-23-2006, 04:38 PM

A summit panorama, looking to the south and west.

continued...

**72Twenty** · 05-23-2006, 04:40 PM

Bravo, my good man....

**alpinepronghorn** · 05-23-2006, 04:40 PM

When it began to graupell on us, we knew it was time to go, and so after a quick high-five and bite to eat, we clicked into our bindings, cranked the lock-down on the toes of our dynafits, and headed toward the business end of the skillet.

Standing on the lip of the couloir filled me with anticipation; though not as steep as the middle, the impending descent still tickled the adrenal gland enough to have me wrapping and re-wrapping my fingers around the grips of my poles.

With a final nod to NHTele, I clicked my poles together and dropped into the first turn of our 6,000’ line.

The snow was perfect; still a little hard but perfectly edgable, Trading leads, NHTele and I took bite after bite of the tasty couloir, switching from hop-turns to carved arcs as our legs switched back into ski-mode.

In the handles lower half, we crossed the thaw-line, and the snow grew softer. Runnels returned, and we hugged the right wall, avoiding the deep center channel that would in a few hours flow with wet snow.

We also passed a few late risers (late being 2am!) who still had a couple hours ahead of them. With the inclement weather coming in and out, they must have had an interesting time on the summit…

After navigating the heavily runnelled middle section of the skillet glacier proper, we reached the flatter floor of the upper bowl. Here, NHTele opened up some maching turns on the smooth corn.

Another cell was bearing down on us, however, and so we kept dropping, at times through the drizzle, stopping often to look back at our line. We didn’t envy the folks still high on the mountain, but when we reached the floor of the skillet we had our own unpleasantness to deal with. Piecing a path through the willows, we skied as far as the snow would take us before finally stepping out of our boots and into sneakers.

As we bushwhacked our way back down to the lake, the storm passed and it once again became a perfect summer day. We reached the lake to find bright sunshine and warm temperatures, and happily stripped off soaking shoes and socks. Ditching my pack in the sand, I eagerly soaked my tired feet into the cold water of the lake.

We still had a bit of work left, and so loaded the canoe and began the paddle home. It was only nine in the morning, but it felt like four in the afternoon to us. Enjoying the sunshine and the weather, we paddled leisurely across the lake, admiring the lines on Mt. Moran and the surrounding peaks. In particular, this line on Bivouac Peak caught our attention and imagination. With a chockstone in the upper reaches of the narrow exit couloir, this line could prove to be an interesting challenge.

Once back on land, we decided to make a quick detour to Signal Mountain to get a proper view of the Range. For anyone making a trip to the area, this tourist lookout is well worth the drive, offering perhaps the best view of the Teton Range in the valley. I was surprised that in two years I’d never made it there before, but even in my near-comatose state was quite awed by the view. Looking at Moran from here, it felt pretty good to say, “We skied that!”

Afterwards, the drive home was more an exercise in survival than anything else. Eyes heavy, head bobbing, I just managed to make it back to the house without driving off the road. Collapsing on my bed, I passed out for seven hours before NHTele woke me for dinner. Two hours later I was back in bed, waking Sunday morning refreshed by 16 hours asleep and ready for a little ski on Jackson peak!

I hadn’t explored the northern Tetons before this spring; they had in my mind always played second fiddle to the Cathedral Group. But the sense of adventure they offer - the remote access, the solitude, the massive lines dropping straight to the lakeshore - lends the area an appeal that’s hard to deny. Though perhaps not this season, I’m sure I will be back.

**PNWbrit** · 05-23-2006, 04:43 PM

simply stunning - nice work guys

**FreakofSnow** · 05-23-2006, 04:46 PM

That my friend, is a nice piece of work!

**JoshP** · 05-23-2006, 04:49 PM

That is a trip report. Hell yeah boys. Nice job.

**jrbd** · 05-23-2006, 04:53 PM

I'm in awe. Mt Moran is such a cool-looking mountain with its little sandstone cap. Great job, guys!

**Greguar** · 05-23-2006, 04:56 PM

Wow awesome report, makes me really miss that area!

**GoldMember** · 05-23-2006, 04:57 PM

Good stuff!

**Barnballs** · 05-23-2006, 04:57 PM

Good one!!

**skiing-in-jackson** · 05-23-2006, 04:57 PM

Wonderful. Great to have met you!

**Bodhi** · 05-23-2006, 04:58 PM

Jesus fucking christ that is allot of continuous vert...about doubling the most I have ever done.

Hats off, sirs. Fine ass job.

Memories of *that* will be hard for you to top.

peace,
D.

**StormRider** · 05-23-2006, 04:59 PM

I'll give that a big FKNA, a

, and two

**jryoung** · 05-23-2006, 05:03 PM

That's just fucking sick right there....

**Graupel** · 05-23-2006, 05:04 PM

effing rad!!!

Huge points for the vert, bonus points for the canoe approach.

**Mofro261** · 05-23-2006, 05:04 PM

Simply Stunning.

Love the skis in the Canoe!

**Pow4Brains** · 05-23-2006, 05:12 PM

Originally Posted by StormRider

I'll give that a big FKNA, a

, and two

Yup. That is all I can say.

**altachic** · 05-23-2006, 05:12 PM

I don't usually post in these threads since I lived in Jackson 2 years ago. I had such a bad living experience there (but a great hiking/biking time) that I just avoid these.

BUT, this is just awesome. I miss that place so much lately. Thanks for the reminder.