This post was submitted by Miles McCart to share with us guys his amazing story and to inspire us all with a taste of what it is like to be involved with God's creation...really involved. Enjoy!
The Tetons - by Miles McCart
On August 1, 2000 I reached the summit of the Grand Teton via the Upper Exum Ridge with Mary Katherine Burns, a feminine package of courage and determination from Chicago, John Matthews, a quirky, quiet, wisp of a man from Boise, Idaho, and Kris Erickson, a young, very strong, and good-natured guide from Bozeman, Montana.
In late October 99 I began some serious contemplation on turning 50. Over the previous year or so, I had developed a gloomy perspective that I seemed to be wearing like a cloak and I did not like the feeling. I desperately wanted to get rid of the gloom, recharge my daily life, and change some less desirable habits for the better. I felt that an unusual challenge had possibilities in helping me accomplish these goals. Planning to do hundred-mile bike rides or setting various running goals for the spring, weren’t going to get the job done this time and I knew it. The more out of the ordinary the challenge was, the better.
For years I had carried, tucked away in my memory, visions from a program that I had seen about climbing the Grand Teton. The largest of the Teton Mountains (13,770 ft) located near Jackson Hole, Wyoming. While trying to conjure up an unusual challenge, these memories came to life. I remembered that climbing the Grand Teton required a mix of technical climbing skill, endurance, and aerobic fitness. As I began thinking about this multifaceted challenge, to be carried out on one of nature’s grandest stages, the appeal was immediate and compelling. I set August 1, 2000 as Summit day, thinking that early August should give the least chance for snow on the route and hopefully the warmest possible weather.
I knew that it would require total dedication to get my body into adequate condition to climb the Grand Teton in a nine-month period.
From the start I was consumed with thoughts of the climbing the Grand. I gathered as much information as I could find on climbing and on climbing the Grand Teton specifically. After a good deal of reading, I knew that I needed a guide service. I did some research and it was an easy choice to select Exum Mountain Guides. All of the sources I read indicated that Exum had a sterling reputation and employed some of the top climbers in the world as guides. I confirmed my reservations with Exum for both the required two day climbing school and the two-day Grand Teton climb before the end of December.
The daily motivation was just what the doctor ordered. On November 1, 1999, I began training with 25 minutes of combined walking and running one night and on alternate nights I would use a stationary rowing machine for 25 minutes. I would end the rowing session with as many push-ups as I could muster. Often while running on clear winter nights I would gaze at the bright stars and try to imagine what the night sky looked like from the summit of the Grand Teton. In the cold biting air it was easy to imagine that I was on the lower saddle of the Grand Teton in the pre dawn hours of summit day, ready to begin the climb. Although I had numerous muscle and tendon injuries to my lower legs as I increased distance and time, I stayed faithful to the training regimen, often making adjustments for the injuries, and by late July I was able to run up to 6 miles at good pace. I was also hiking long distances with a heavy pack on weekends without problem. I felt I was physically ready.
On July 29 I flew to Salt Lake City, Utah and then drove to Jackson Hole, Wyoming. The climbing school began the next day on the Practice Cliffs behind Jenny Lake in the Grand Teton National Park. The school consisted of two days of learning essential knots, climbing safety and techniques, and rappelling. The second day of school particularly tested my resolve, as the climbing on that day was vertical and very exposed. Wes Bunch from Myrtle Beach, South Carolina was the instructor for both days. (WESLEY BUNCH Guide for 8 years. Climbs throughout the U.S. Ski descents in Tetons. Expeditions in Alaska and to Broad Peak, Karakoram Himalaya. First ascent Bunch/Stewart route on Mt. Hunter, Northeast Face Mt. Ratz, Stikine Icecap. Expedition to Jambeyang in the Konka Risumggongba, Sichuan, China. Guide on Mt. McKinley. Backcountry ski guide.) My first impression of Wes was that he seemed like a laid back ex-surfer from Southern California. I was surprised to learn he was a southerner. I suppose working and living in the mountains changes people. During the school he let us have fun but was not shy about persistently pointing out our weaknesses or mistakes. At times he acted more like a Drill Sergeant than a guide. I came to appreciate his diligence much more after the climb was over. At the end of the second day of climbing school we all gathered back at the Exum office and Wes told me that I had successfully completed both days of the Exum climbing school and qualified to climb the Upper Exum Ridge route up the Grand. My mission was now half completed.
On the day that would begin the climb I woke up early, packed my gear and ate as much breakfast as I could hold. I met with my climbing partners, Mary and John at the Exum business office, and together we all met our guide, Kris Erickson. (KRISTOFFER ERICKSON Guide for 4 years. First ascents on ten of Montana's hardest mixed ice routes. Rock climbing throughout the United States. Premiere ski mountaineering descents in Montana, Wyoming, Alaska, Peru, Tibet, and Antarctica. Climbs and expeditions to the Canadian Rockies, Newfoundland, Fairweather Range Alaska, Pakistan, Xixabangma in Tibet, and the. Antarctic Peninsula. Three expeditions to Peru.)
During the hike up to the lower saddle I learned that Kris was on the expedition to Mount Shishapangma with Alex Lowe when Alex was killed. At the time of the accident, Alex was generally recognized as the top climber in the world. “On October 5th 1999 an avalanche struck one half of an American team climbing in Chinese Tibet. Three members were caught in the snow, one of them, Conrad Anker, escaped alive. The other two, Alex Lowe and Dave Bridges were never found.” I realized immediately that our guide was no mere mortal but a world-class athlete.
The first day of the two-day climb was an 8-mile climb/hike carrying a full pack with an elevation gain of about 1 mile. This led to the lower saddle of the Grand Teton at 11,500 ft. On this bridge of windswept rock between the Grand and Middle Teton, we would spend the night in a communal tent provided by Exum before the summit attempt the next day. The constantly changing scenery on the way up was magnificent. The hike began on a gentle grade through a pine forest. After a mile or so the forest thinned and slopes, carpeted by wildflowers, tall grasses, and berry bushes began to fill the open areas. The trail then began a series of numerous switchbacks as we worked our way up the lower slopes of the mountain. Our pace was steady and determined. We would stop occasionally to fill water bottles at one of the numerous springs we encountered and perhaps grab a quick snack. It was an unusually warm day for the Tetons, even in late July, and Kris had told us that staying hydrated was the best way to avoid altitude sickness and I was drinking all of the water that I could hold.
As the seemingly innumerable switchbacks ended, the trail entered Garnet Canyon. Here I could see the mountains in front of me for the first time since we started our hike. The grandeur of the view was breathtaking. The Middle Teton, dotted with pockets of snow near its summit, dominated our view to the front. It was framed by steep slopes on either side with a backdrop of cloudless deep blue sky. The walls on either side of the thinly forested Garnet Canyon are covered with rock and boulders in every color and hue. The scale is immense. This was nature at it’s most magnificent. As I beheld the beauty that unfolded at every turn of the trail, I was absorbed with thoughts of the cycles of nature that had created it and of the timescale involved. My life would be a flash in comparison. Mary commented that she loved to get into the mountains because of the humbling effect that they had on her. I couldn’t have agreed more.
At times in the Garnet Canyon section we would have to work our way through talus fields. These were jumbled mazes of huge boulders, some taller than we were. In these fields there was often little forward visibility and no correct path evident. The hiking was treacherous as the rock surfaces we walked and hopped over were at every conceivable angle. Foot placement had to be careful and sure.
Garnet Canyon eventually gave way to the high rocky Lupine Meadow, split by a crystal clear stream of glacial runoff and carpeted in spots with the low, deep green lupine herb with showy purple flowers. This was the last area with much vegetation on the way up. This pleasant Alpine Meadow gave way to a high rocky moraine area with an active glacier immediately on the left. The hiking from the Lupine Meadow and up through this moraine section was at times rugged and very steep. I monitored my heart rate in this section and found that it was at a constant 120 to 135 beats per minute. At the end of the Moraine area, the final hurdle to overcome to reach the top of the saddle was a nearly vertical 40-foot rise of rock. A large diameter rope placed by the US Parks Department helped to make short work of this last obstacle.
We had successfully reached the first day’s objective. I was pretty hammered by the time we reached the Exum tent, but I felt satisfied that all of the running, hiking, and strength training I did had paid off. There was many a climber on the trail up to the lower saddle who suffered a good deal that day.
Mary, who never complained or lagged, lost her dinner that evening as we checked and arranged our gear. John, who always seemed calm and stoic, could not keep his supper down either. I had a dull headache and my appetite was not good. A couple of cups of Swiss Miss, a handful of trail mix, and half a Power Bar were all that I could manage. I attributed a lot of our problems to the 5 hours of near aerobic work it took to reach the saddle and perhaps a bit of altitude sickness. In hindsight, we all could have benefited from a slower pace. Kris, who was worried about our apparent altitude sickness, took us out for a shakedown session that evening that included tying knots, practice belaying, and walking and running in coils. I wondered what this exercise was all about, as most of what we did seemed a little silly based on the past few days. Kris later told us that if we had faltered in our performance during this shakedown he would not have let us go for the summit the next day.
The short night spent with 15 other climbers in the same tent seemed very long for most because of a constant snoring. A tip I picked up while reading, suggested earplugs for the tent. Thanks to them, when I lay down at 9:30, I immediately fell asleep. I woke up at 1:30 with nature calling. I dreaded having to get up because I was in the back right corner of the tent and there were numerous bodies between the door and me. I lay awake a long time trying to get back to sleep to no avail. With no alternative, I found my headlamp and turned it on. I covered it with my hand so that the light would be muted. With the resultant dim glow, I successfully negotiated the rows of bodies and made it out the door. I had mentally prepared to be shocked by the cold but the temperature was amazingly warm. The crystal clear night sky was absolutely magnificent. Innumerable stars were visible from horizon to horizon. The barren rock and boulder-strewn landscape of the Lower Saddle was bathed in the starlight creating soft images and shadows everywhere. Looking directly overhead I could, for the first time in my life, clearly see the broad band of the Milky Way. I could also easily recognize the more common constellations of Ursa Major and Ursa Minor as they brightly stood out among the other stars. Lowering my gaze, I could see the massive black silhouette of the Grand Teton ominously looming over this ethereal scene. For a few moments I stood in the doorway dumbstruck by the surreal beauty.
I then noticed John, sitting alone on a rock nearby, fully clothed as if ready for the climb. I approached him and inquired if he was all right and if he had had any sleep. In his usual clipped and economical way of speaking he said that he was just fine and had plenty of sleep. I couldn’t imagine how but I knew that John, who usually would only talk when spoken to, would offer no more explanation. Leaving John, I found my way in the softly lit landscape the short distance to the western down slope of the saddle. The view from this vantage point extended out over western Idaho. The lights of numerous small towns illuminated the Idaho plain below. The view was reminiscent of scenes I had seen many times from the windows of airplanes at night. The only sound I could hear was the whisper of the wind as it blew from the west. I was lost in the majesty and grandeur of the heavens and earth around me. I felt small and insignificant. I also felt privileged to be standing where I was. It was a special moment in time.
Knowing that I needed to get more rest, I made my way back to my spot in the tent Sleep never came again. My mind had been turned on and was going full tilt in anticipation of the climb.
The wake up call came at 3:30 am. There was immediate stirring and mumbled conversation as the majority of my tent mates were already awake before the call came. I quickly got dressed and took all of the items out of my pack that I felt I wouldn’t need for the climb. I drank a couple of cups of Swiss Miss but couldn’t bear the thought of a Power Bar. Mary, John, and I assembled around Kris. He gave John and I a coiled climbing rope to carry, checked that we all had our climbing harnesses and gear, and we were off.
We were the second of four groups moving single file in the dark toward a geologic feature on the slope of the Grand called the Black Dike. This would be the place for the final checks before the climb began. Everyone had headlamps on, lighting the ground before them. We walked in nervous silence. Every step taken from now on would move us closer to our goal. When we reached the dike, we sat down and Kris gave us a final “Are you ready for this?” The climb technically would start here. The terrain quickly became steeper and more broken. We started climbing over individual boulders and up small chimneys all the while using headlamps to light the way. I had feelings of apprehension as we moved steadily higher in the dark. After what seemed like a good deal of climbing and scrambling we were the first group to the base of Wall Street, a ledge of granite that inclines up to the beginning of the Upper Exum Ridge. At this point it was just beginning to show faint daylight and distant features, for the first time since we started, were becoming more visible. I could see that we were getting high on the mountain and that the drops below us were steep and severe. For whatever reason, I had never let myself believe that the climb would actually put us in places with long vertical drops. The reality was a very cold slap in the face. My apprehension level turned up another notch and from this point forward, I had to keep my fear of heights in check by concentrating on where we going and not on where we were.
Kris moved us to the top of Wall Street, the literal jumping off point of the Upper Exum Ridge Climb. He put us in order so that we could tie in to the ropes one climber to another. I took the rope from around my body and handed it to Kris and he turned to John for the other rope. John’s face was a blank stare with wide eyes. He didn’t have it! He had left the rope at the Black Dike. Kris’s expression was a mix of surprise and desperation. Kris immediately told us there was no way we could complete the climb with only one rope. He moved us from the top of Wall Street back to its base and went through the options. He told us If we couldn’t secure a rope quickly we would not have time to climb the Upper Exum Ridge route and that doing the Owens Spaulding route, an easier, less desirable climb, might be our only option. If he couldn’t find the rope at the Black Dike our day would be over. He checked in vain with the other groups that were coming up behind us as they worked their way up to the top of Wall Street. Unable to secure a rope from any of the other groups, he told us that he would go back to the Dike and search. He estimated the round trip would take him at least one hour. Any longer and we were done. He took off into the dim morning light and was quickly out of site. Mary, John, and I put on our jackets and hunkered down in the cold to wait. I looked at my watch. It was 4:50 am. I figured I would just try to get some sleep, as it was no place to go for a stroll and none of us felt like talking. The only sounds I was conscious of were the wind and the echoes of the climbing commands being shouted by members of the other groups making their way up the mountain. I felt my dream slipping away. Nine months of preparation and planning in vain. I closed my eyes and tried not to think about it.
I was startled to consciousness by the sound of rocks falling. I sat upright to see Kris flying up the route below us. Having lost track of time, I looked at my watch. It was 5:10 am. I silently counted the time off in five-minute intervals since he had left, five, ten, fifteen, twenty! Kris had covered the distance twice in twenty minutes that had taken the group of us about forty minutes to cover on the way up! To say the least, I was absolutely amazed. The last group of climbers hadn’t even left the top of Wall Street. As we gathered around him, Kris was bent at the waist breathing in gasps. When he straightened up, he had the lost rope diagonally around his body. His eyes and face clearly showed the strain of his exertion. This man had saved our climb with his great effort and I will never forget it. After Kris regained his composure we moved to the top of Wall Street and assembled to tie in. Kris was roped to Mary, Mary was roped to me, and I was roped to John. It was fully daylight now and, as I took a good look at my surroundings for the first time, the view took my breath in more ways than one. To gain the Exum Ridge from the top of Wall Street requires stepping out over a void to bear hug a protruding knob of granite. Once suitably attached, the climber must move around and up this feature. This sobering first series of moves fully exposes the climber to a very long drop. As Kris explained how to negotiate this first pitch, my heart was racing. He stepped off Wall Street and moved easily and efficiently around the knob and was quickly out of site on the other side. He called back instructions to us as he moved on. “There are a lot of good handholds.” “ When you get around to this side, look for a black rock with a white stripe in it.” “It makes a good foothold.” When he finished the pitch he pulled in the remaining rope between him and Mary until it became taut. It was her turn. Feeling the rope get tight, Kris called, “Climb Mary!” and Mary replied,” Climbing Kris!” Mary, as was her style, jumped right in with no hesitation and was gone. I could hear her moving over the rock as I watched the coils of rope between us lazily play out. Too soon, the rope was getting tight between Mary and me. It was my turn! My mind was racing. I was questioning my reasoning for wanting to climb a mountain in the first place. What the heck was I doing here? Why couldn’t I have come up with something a little more realistic? It was a silly thing to want to do anyway. “That’s me Mary!” I heard my self say automatically as she pulled the rope tight. “Climb Miles!” came Mary’s reply. The moment of truth had arrived. I couldn’t stop now. I concentrated on how confidently Mary had moved out. She had set the example. All I had to do was follow. “Climbing Mary!” I yelled and I stepped off into the unknown. I would not look down very often from this point until we reached the summit as I tried to stay focused an in control.
The Exum Ridge consists of thirteen “pitches” or sections to be negotiated. Most are steep and very exposed. Kris would climb a section, and then he would stop and belay Mary over the same section. Once Mary stopped and had me on belay, Kris would move out on the next section as I moved up. Kris belayed Mary, Mary belayed me and I belayed John. In this fashion we moved up the ridge in accordion fashion. Many of the pitches on the Exum ridge are named. There are, “The Golden Staircase”, “Friction Pitch”, “Wind Tunnel”, “Unsoeld’s Lie Back” and “Carmen’s Pinnacle” The route is mostly solid rough granite and quartz with sufficient handholds and features for foot placement. It is rated at 5.4 to 5.6 in most climbing guides. Class 5 climbing is generally described as requiring protection (ropes, belaying, harnesses, and anchors) against potentially fatal falls. There were a few memorable spots on the way up. Friction Pitch is so named because of the lack of good handholds. To trust minimal handholds and friction alone to keep you from falling in some spots required concentration and confidence in the techniques we had learned in school. The Golden Staircase is a beautiful pitch of near vertical golden colored rock with a great texture for climbing and plenty of secure places to hold to. Carmen’s Pinnacle is a spike of good rock that stands as a solitary vertical column on the ridge. Kris threw this one in for fun although I don’t think I fully appreciated the breathtaking view that reaching it’s top afforded. I was particularly glad to get Unsoeld’s Lie Back behind me. This was another spot where the drop from the feature we climbed was vertical and a loooooong way down. This pitch required grasping the edge of a slab with both hands and pulling against the edge to create foot friction that allows you to crab walk up its steeply inclined surface. The balance of the pitches on the way up, were mixed with climbing and steep scrambling.
Near the top, the summit is out of view with no clear route visible. The terrain is a jumble of slabs and large boulders. We scrambled in unison over these features with no end in site until we were suddenly at the summit. I checked my watch; it was 10:30 am. The view from the top was awesome. After settling in a bit, Kris produced the ubiquitous cell phone and asked if anyone wanted to make a call. I called home and left a message for Savannah. “ Hi honey. We made it to the top of the Grand Teton. I’ll call you when I get down. I love you.” We then took the “Summit Shots” for everyone. I sat there extremely satisfied with myself. I had made it. It is a great memory.
Having recently read many books on climbing, I knew that my goal was only half way accomplished. I still had to get down safely. We stayed at the top about 30 minutes before starting down. The descent follows the Owens-Spaulding route and was mostly a lot of steep scrambling with one free rappel to the Upper Saddle of about 150 feet. There were numerous climbers waiting at the rappelling station and we had to sit and wait our turn. In order to speed things up, Kris and another Exum guide set up a second rappelling station. As I watched, I was amazed how easily they moved over the rock and worked so close to potential disaster. They never appeared to take special precaution on the rock-covered slope that lead to a long drop. I wondered if I could ever be that confident when high up. When my turn to go down came, I moved carefully to the main rappelling station and tied in to the ropes. It was a precarious spot on top of a large boulder high above the Upper Saddle. I tied in, turned and leaned back, and started down. I cannot explain it, but the rapelling never bothered me. I really enjoyed it. I suppose I knew I was getting down that much faster. I saw Mary coming down from the second station that Kris had set up. She seemed to be taking a long time and some guys around me thought that she might be frightened. I didn’t know the reason for the slow pace but I knew that it was something besides fear. I thought she might have had some equipment problem. She later told me that in the excitement she had forgot to put on her leather gloves and had to go slow to keep from burning her hands. From experience in the climbing school, I can attest that the heat can get very critical in a short distance. Once it starts, it is very painful to regain control and slow the rate of descent.
The route down from the Upper Saddle required a great deal of concentration to insure safe foot placement on the steep and sometime loose rock. I found out that it is often much easier to go up than it is to go down. Foot placement is critical and balance is always being tested as you descend. It is also more strenuous on the legs. After a lot of hopping, stemming, and sliding, I could see the Lower Saddle and the Exum campsite. When I passed the Black Dike, I knew I had made it. We got back to the Tent by 2:30pm that afternoon. We sat down and talked briefly about the climb, knowing we still had a long way to go. We quickly packed up our gear, ate a snack, drank as much water as we could hold and left the Saddle.
Mary, John, Kris, and I were all interested in getting down as quickly as we could. It had already been a long day and we knew we had 8 miles of rough terrain to go. For a time we paced down the trail with the other climbing groups but it soon became apparent that they were stopping to rest more often than we wanted. At the foot of the Moraine, with the steep drop section of the trail to the Meadow before us, we moved on alone. Kris was motoring. Mary, who was not a tall person, was alternately walking and running to keep up.
As I followed behind her, I marveled at her resolve. Occasionally her ankles would roll and she would stumble but she never complained or got off pace. She would limp for a while and keep on moving. By the Talus fields, John was beginning to fall behind. In reflection I don’t believe that John had eaten, drank, or slept much after he got sick the night before and he had to be on empty. True to his form, when we stopped to wait for him, he said he was fine and was having no problems. By the time we were near the bottom of the switchbacks I was getting lightheaded. I knew I didn’t have a lot left. John had dropped back and was out of site. We waited at the bottom of the switchbacks before entering the final wooded section of the trail. John joined us and we shoved off. We all knew that it wasn’t far to the parking lot and this motivation held us together. I think I had a hallucination at one point and I called out that I could see cars, only to round a bend in the trail to see nothing but forest. I got a few comments from Mary about this. Finally we reached the lot. Jimmy, my son in law, was waiting there with the car as planned and we all melted into the seats for the ride to the Exum office.
The parting with my teammates came too quickly and happened too fast. I really felt close to these people. Four days before I had never laid eyes on them and now it was troubling to think that, once I left the Exum office, I would never see them again. We all had swapped addresses on the saddle after the climb with promises to stay in contact. I guess that’s the best one can do under the circumstances. It was getting pretty late in the day and we all had our own agendas to attend to. I said goodbye to Kris and told him that what he had done for us could not be measured. I thanked him for saving our dreams and gave him a too little token of my appreciation. I shook John’s hand and told him what a strong and graceful climber I thought he was and that I was honored to have had him as a teammate. Since Mary was staying at the same place as Jimmy and I, we decided to have a celebration dinner. After trying to find some Pizza without success, we decided on a local greasy spoon for a cheeseburger and fries. As we excitedly relived the climb, we talked of how much food we were going to eat and ordered a suitable feast. When it came, all I could manage was the one drink I already had, a few nachos, a few fries and half of the cheeseburger and no more. I couldn’t believe it. I had hardly eaten anything in two days. Mary was in exactly the same state. She couldn’t eat either. I still do not understand why we couldn’t eat more. Our victory dinner fizzled. I’m glad I hadn’t ordered a $20 steak! As we all walked back to the hotel, I thanked Mary. Over the four days I had spent with her I came to admire her a great deal. I told her that her courage had steeled my nerve on the mountain and that she had been a constant inspiration and lift to me throughout the whole experience. All too soon we said goodbye.
Since the climb I have had frequent fond remembrances of my adventure. I have mentally relived it many, many times. I can’t imagine anything that could possibly take the place it has secured in my life. I have made fitness a regular part of my life again. That has been a great residual benefit. Although I am fairly sure that I will climb another mountain in the Teton Range and perhaps the Grand again some day, I have no desire to climb more formidable mountains or the big walls of Yosemite. I have not overcome my fear of heights. The Grand was all I wanted and more. I remember well what I said to Savannah when I called her from the hotel after the climb. “ I have never been so scared for so long in my life.”
Miles McCarts Hiking History and Future Plans:
2001: Teewinot / base of Cube Point
2002: Grand Canyon south rim to Colorado River
2003: Middle Teton
2004: Middle Teton / Disappointment Peak
2005: 600 Vertical feet Short of Middle Teton summit / Disappointment Peak
2006; Disappointment Peak / Lupine Meadow / Snake River Kayak
2007 Knee Operation..................
2010: Plan to Climb Middle and South Teton with Belinda
