The Great Adventure

Any lingering doubt as to yesterdays decision to descend to the trail head (7,000 ft) from the high country because of deteriorating weather were dispelled at the ungodly hour of 5 am, as I awoke to the sound of rain thundering down onto the fly of my tent. As I turned over my thoughts turned to the father and daughter we had seen setting off yesterday afternoon from the trail head to Hurricane Pass and I wondered how they were getting on at 10,000 ft. 

A wet start to the day

I drifted off back to sleep and was awoken at 7.15 by Christine calling me to advise she had left a cup of tea and a strawberry yoghurt bar outside my tent door. I know it was a proper camp site but room service was definitely a step up. I swiftly emerged from my tent and as it was still raining joined the others under the tarp. It seemed that fate had intervened in my favour as not more than two feet in front of my tent a small lake had formed.

Apparently I was in for another treat as Dave had decided to forego our usual simple breakfast and take us both into Driggs for breakfast at his local cafe, before calling in at his home to pick up some more wood for our fire. My mouth salivating at the thought we piled into the SUV and headed off down the dirt track and back into civilisation. 

Arriving in Driggs at 8.30 am we hit rush hour (I use the term lightly) and the first surprise was that there was nowhere to park outside the cafe. It would appear that a lot of the local workman had decided it would be more comfortable to sit in the cafe and wait for the rain to pass than wait outside.

After 9 days, unwashed and unshaven, I feared how I might look and smell but fortunately this was no tourist cafe and the locals seemed disinterested by our arrival. Happily a table became available almost immediately and I settled down to closely study the menu. Ever since the tantalising smell of cooking bacon had wafted down from a campsite in the Alaska Basin, I had been fantasising about a fry up, so the decision did not take long and the waitress was swiftly over.

Now to those of you who have been to the US you will be aware of the American way of life and the endless choices (provided you have the dollars of course) and this choice extends to food and how it is cooked. I was aware from a previous visit that I would be asked "how I wanted my eggs" so I avoided the embarrassment of appearing sarcastic by announcing "cooked" instead of the expected "sunny side up" or "easy over". However I was then asked would I like  "A", "B" or "C" (forgive me as I can't remember the choices) which meant absolutely nothing to me. Playing for time I said "come again" to the waitress and she repeated the mantra. She might as well have been speaking Double Dutch for all the sense it made and I frantically looked to Dave for assistance. He stepped in to rescue me from my embarrassment and announced "he'll have B".

My dignity saved the waitress departed and I asked Dave the burning question, what was that all been about? Apparently I had been asked what type of bread I wanted with my breakfast!

Fed and watered we emerged to the agreeable sight of the cloud breaking and the sun putting in a hesitant appearance.  Back in the SUV we headed out of Driggs to collect fire wood from Dave's home which was situated a couple of miles east of Driggs in a rural location. From an English perspective it was like a country estate having 5 acres of land. Christine and I were introduced to his wife Seana and Dave collected Jester one of his five (?) dogs before we headed back to our camp at South Teton trailhead.

As the weather appeared to be improving we decided to take advantage of the day and walk up from North Teton trailhead (almost adjacent to our campsite) into the meadow area below Table Mountain (11,000 ft) which is reputed to have the closest and best view of the Cathedral Group.

Our arrival at the foot of the trail at 10.30 am coincided with that of a large group of what I took to be American students out for a day trip with their teachers. I presumed that it was to be some form of field study exercise as none seemed equipped for mountain walking, some carrying bottles of pop and others listening to their ipods. We left them organising themselves and headed on up the trail.

Moose!

We initially climbed quite steeply through a wooded area and it was not long before the students caught and passed us. We also met the only other English person (Christine excepted) that I was to encounter on a trail during the course of the holiday a gentleman from Oxford. We heard him a mile off - it would appear that our accents are very distinctive!

Unfortunately after only a short while Dave, who had changed his footwear to a new set of boots, decided that his feet were not up to the challenge and headed back to camp with his dog, although not before I had relieved him of his pepper spray just in case we met a bear. We were thus guideless for the first time in 9 days, but I was by now quite comfortable with my surroundings and unperturbed. Christine and I pressed on and shortly thereafter, just before noon, spotted a male moose.

All part of fun - balancing across the rocks

I secretly had hopes of heading to the top of Table Mountain for another view of the Cathedral Group and  as if she could read my mind, Christine suggested that I go on ahead to see how far I could go. Now hiking on your own is not the most sensible thing to do, but I was mindful that there were a lot of students ahead of us and that Christine was vastly experienced. In fact if anyone needed looking after it was probably me! I needed no second invitation and having split the food and passed her the pepper spray I was away and off up the trail.

Being a day hike I was carrying a much lighter pack and I rapidly caught the tail enders of the student group, who I learned were in fact a scout group on a day hike up to the top of Table Mountain. Whilst the weather was now warm with sunny intervals they did not seem to be carrying any equipment and were wearing denim shorts and T-shirts. I pressed on and as the trail steepened I caught and passed another group of scouts who seemed to be struggling - I suspect they had started off to quickly and were now suffering. 

Another 30 minutes of hard climbing up multiple switch backs and I was finally out of the valley and onto a ridge at about 10,000 ft. I was rewarded by my first sight of the Cathedral Group peeking over the top of the Table Mountain ridge. Unfortunately it was by now 2.15 pm and as is often the case in the Rockies the weather seemed to be taking a turn for the worst with the temperature having significantly dropped and the cloud building. As I put on another thermal top and my fleece I wondered how the scouts further on up the mountain were getting on.

Table Mountain foreground right with Tetons behind

I sat on the ridge admiring the spectacular views - the plains of Idaho to my west, to the north east looking down into the Alaska Basin and of course Table Mountain and pondered my options. From my current position I estimated that the summit of Table Mountain whilst reasonably flat until the last half mile, was a good hours walk so it would be at least two hours to return to my current position and another two hours to the trail head.

I was sorely tempted to go on and for about 15 minutes struggled to decide whether it was worth the risk. But by now there were wisps of cloud blanketing the Tetons peaks and the weather was looking even more threatening, so with the greatest reluctance I decided that it was to late in the day and the weather conditions to carry on. My time out in the back country had taught me to respect the terrain, altitude and weather.
Looking towards Driggs and the plains of Idaho

With a last look at the scenery I retraced my steps and started my decent of the switch backs meeting Christine who had by now caught up. She decided to press on up to the ridge to see the views, so I decided to have my lunch overlooking the valley and await her return. As if to spite me, the sun reappeared and away from the ridge sheltered from the wind I sweltered in the sun. 

Looking down into the Meadow area

After 45 minutes the sun disappeared and the weather became threatening again. There was no sign of Christine  returning and I was becoming cold. With the knowledge that there was still a large group of scouts above her I decided to wait no longer and head back down the trail.

I was a little nervous heading back down alone - I had been passed by three scouts ( they were very fit and had reached the top of Table Mountain) whilst I was having lunch but apart from that I appeared to be on my own with no pepper spray and no company! As I descended my trekking poles were invaluable and relieved of my heavy pack I fairly shot back down the switch backs and into the meadow area. 

By now there was a hint of rain in the air and the wind had increased and become gusty - not good signs. A hint of rain turned into definite rain and I donned my waterproof top. Soon thereafter the rain increased in intensity and I stopped to put on my waterproof trousers.

Looking down into the Alaska BasinMy decision to descend was proving entirely correct and I thought with a shudder of the ill equipped scouts in their T-shirts and denim shorts high above me and wondered what state they might be in. I was jolted from my reflections by a clap of thunder echoing around the mountains around me and the weather deteriorated further into a full blown storm with the rain running down across the trail like a river. It was difficult to believe that only a couple of hours ago I was at 10,000 ft admiring the view and now at 8,000ft it was decidedly murky.

I arrived back at camp at about 5.15 pm to find Dave waiting under the tarp wearing all his clothing. With the advent of the storm the air temperature had dropped significantly and I had already passed some shivering scouts huddled under a tree awaiting the return of their colleagues further up the mountain. 

Finally the storm abated and the rain eased. As if by magic Dave managed to light the fire and we sat around awaiting Christine who arrived safely back much to our relief at 6.30 pm.

Another treat in store - back to the Sports Bar in Driggs (6,200 ft) for our tea! Again this seemed a bit surreal surrounded by the local youth in their fashionable and flesh exposing clothing. To think just 4 hours before I was in the high country. 

A blissful tea (even if the waitress couldn't understand my English accent!) and we returned to Teton Trailhead for a final night under the stars.        

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