The Grand Teton: The Enclosure

The Grand Teton.

Summiting the Grand Teton in Targhee National Park is an internationally-acclaimed mountaineering feat, and now I know why.  Hiking this mountain was one of the most amazing experiences of my life, hands down.  The ascent was not only physically and mentally challenging, but proved to be an unexpected spiritual experience.  

Stats

Start time: 1am.  Finish time: 4pm.  Total elapsed time: 14 hrs. 48 minutes.

Round trip distance: 18.39 miles.

Elevation gain: 9,819 feet.

Travel Report

We left at 10pm from our little Idaho Falls and drove to the Lupine Meadows Trailhead, starting our hike about 1am (This driving arrangement meant that by the time I returned home, I hadn't slept in nearly 36 hours)  The forecast was on- and off-rain, and we had timed our trip to summit during the sunnier moments in the day.

However, as seems to be my luck, within an hour of starting the trail a deluge of thick rain coated the entire mountainside.  I donned my rain gear, but the onslaught was so severe that lifting my hands with my walking poles caused pools of rain to drop down to my elbows, despite any tightened waterproof seals.

After 2.5 hours of hiking we reached the Meadows, where we scurried under a rock ledge to seek protection from the rain and donned our thermal gear in preparation for the steeper ascents.  From there we headed up through the Moraine to the lower saddle of the Grand Teton.

Attempting a positive outlook despite a DOWNPOUR of rain for two hours. (Note: this is not how I wore my headlamp.)

Drying out in the dark: post-Teton-monsoon.

The Dipping Moon

The picture below is obviously of poor quality, but it represents a phenomena I've never  before experienced: I'll call it a 'moon-dipping.'  Due to the heavy precipitation, the skies were frequently overcast with clouds.  Extraordinarily, the clouds were tossed and swirled in the wind patterns dropping off the mountains and various peaks.  This meant the clouds would shift quickly and lightly across the sky.  The nearly full moon was blanketed by the clouds.

From my vantage point, it appeared that the moon was dipping up and down, several vertical  inches up and down in the sky.  The effect was so strong that I had to sit for dizziness.  As I watched, I realized the cloud patterns were blowing violently, exposing the moon a short, quick intervals, which made it appear as if were dipping into and back out of the horizon.  It was the clouds that were moving, exposing a stationary moon.  The effect was mystifying and beautiful.

Lower saddle at sunrise.

Sunrise

We watched the sunrise from the lower saddle.  The picture below is a snippet of our panoramic witness.  As the sun crested the peaks, it shot rays of light onto the mountain face, and particularly onto the Middle Teton glacier.  The glacier, normally a tanned cream from dirt on snow, shifted colors from a light pink to yellow and finally to its full sunlit luster as the sun was exposed.  It was a Teton canvas, and the sun was literally weeping color across it.  It made me think of the creative color genius of our Heavenly Father, and I realized that our world is quite literally one of His many canveses.  I felt particularly privy to a minute select corner of that everyday canvas.  

It was a sacred moment wherein I witnessed something spectacular and awe-inspiring.  It exists independent of my witness to it, and occurs on a daily basis.  I was filled with the thought that the Lord's works are indeed mighty, and cover the whole earth and the entirety of the heavens.  His works move forth independent of, and most likely supportive to, our human interest in them.  I was grateful for the experience.

"And God spake unto Moses, saying: Behold, I am the Lord God Almight, and Endless is my name; for I am without beginning of days or end of years; and is not this endless? 

Wherefore look, and I will show thee the workmanship of mine hands; but not all, for my works are without end, and also my words, for they never cease." (Mosts 1:3-4) 

Two great friends, leaders, and fabulous guides.

An Emerging Mountain

Another spectacular moment on the hike came as the sunlight attempted to dissipate the cloud cover.  For the first time, cliffs, ridges, and crevasses began to take form. It was as if they were emerging from a mist into  solid structures.  I'm not commenting on my theory of the Creation, but in a small way I felt to have seen mountains emerge to my view.  This is nothing like it in the world.

"And I, God, said: Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together unto one place, and it was so; and I, God, said: Let there be dry land; and it was so.

And I, God, called the dry land Earth; and the gathering together of the waters, called I the Sea; and I, God, saw that lall things which I had made were good."  (Moses 2:9-10) 

Climbing through the eye of the needle.

The Perspective of a Mountaintop

In ancient times the Lord frequently called his prophets to the mountains, where they received revelation, commandments, and communed with the Lord.  One possible reason for the call to climb was that the higher one ascends on a mountain, the greater becomes his view.  Literally.  From a peak you can see more miles that one who is at the base of the mountain.  When I'm on a peak, I get a sense of not only the grandeur of God, but also that his view is infinitely greater than mine.  His purpose, therefore, is also infinitely more attuned, and his love more effulgent.  On a mountaintop, one cannot help but manifest the Grandeur of God.  I love the mountains.

Summit of The Enclosure, Grand Teton.  The summit of the Grand (and it's frosted icy ridges) in the background.

The duo admiring the Lord's mountainous handiwork.

An example of the ice which precluded our final ascent to the summit.

Heading down toward the Lower Saddle.  Exum huts are faintly visible in the middle of the pictures.

Taking a break to fill up our water from a freshwater stream-unfiltered, because it came literally springing forth from the rock.

Spalding Falls.  We hiked past this in the dark, and I didn't even know it was there, because the loud rain drowned out the entire sound of the falls!

The Meadows.  Middle Teton in the top right-hand corner.

Post-climb, at the trailhead.  Happy as a lark to finally get warm and head home!