I woke up from hearing the rustling of folks getting ready for work in the kitchen. I wanted to wake up. Its supposed to be nice out today and its around 5 am. I thought it would be fun to finally climb one of the Teton Mountains. The middle one seams good with an easy to access snow climb up a west facing couloir. I’ve been back in the canyon on recon, I know where to go, I know it will be hard, but mainly I know that I will be in love with every thing if I go.

            So I roll hard out off of my therma-rest and out of my puffy sleeping bag and get dressed. I eat with my friends. They are getting ready for work in the park. We don’t speak much. It’s rather somber in the harsh kitchen light with the dim morning hidden beyond the window. I eat some cereal and fill water. I packed the night before so in a few minutes I say bye. They say be careful I say I will.

            I love the mountains. I love the mountains alone. I love the Tetons for being this massive magnificent place that glows with joy and beauty from Jackson Hole. I love that it is right there and that with a few hours of brutally steep hiking you’re in. You are inside its most holy bowels and face to face with the glaring truth of steep rock and snow. Of mighty glory and sweat and a very high heart and repertory rate. And it just doesn’t get much better getting into the ice fields after 2 hours of pounding out trail and the real fun beginning.

            Garnett Canyon is awesome. You enter it form a convenient weakness. The trail brings you switch-backing up a face and then hard to the south then curving west into the canyon just below the massive cliffs that wall this beast. The cliffs to the north are steep and beautiful. The walls to the south are treed with cliffs rising periodically but they pale in the face of their partner to the north. And these walls are Disappointment peak’s and those others are Nez Perce’s. And so you come face to face with the Middle. With a great dyke shooting vertical up it’s center. The Grand is there on the right. Its right there! The summit snowfield is right up there. I’ve only hiked 2 hours and it’s right there right in sight! The South is to the left in its convoluted mess of spires and complex architecture. And the Cloudviel Dome looks down and smiles and says come here. And Nez Perce’s west face smiles with the same beaconing. And the great snowfield between the Middle and South say’s “get to work.”

            And so now I begin to rip it up. I choose traversing climbs up the steep snow that are arduous and awesome. I find a way to time my breathing with my steps. A 1-2-3 sound of each foot followed by the Ice axe. A breath in with the first step a breath out with the second and the movement of the axe. And I do this repeatedly. Over and over. And I watch my feet and it lasts eternally. I don’t need to stop. I don’t need to slow down. I don’t need to speed up. I go at this pace. It is as fast as I can go and be able to go like this forever. It is the brink of sustainable movement. It is hard and calming and easy and difficult and it is exactly what I want to do at this moment. It is what I would do any day I could.

I love the snow. I love to kick into it and I love to climb it. I love how it shines so bright its blinding. I love that it hurts and is hard and soft. I grew up in the snow with brutal winters by the lake. I lived with below freezing and cursed the winter and the snow. I hated it and wanted never to see it again. Now it’s like seeing an old friend. A buddy. Something that is awesome and both rare and everywhere. It’s always the same and different no matter where you go and find it. And it’s is a joy to move over.

            So I go on for a while and it’s a great feeling, and after an hour I’m at the base of a really steep section. Now typically I like to traverse something like this but there is a set of steps going right up the steepness. And I think Ill go up that. And I take it as fast as I can. The steps are pretty good but steep. And it’s hard to climb and keep the rhythm but I do. And it’s so steep that the Ice tool is nice to have and I find myself balancing on the crampon’s tips more than once. And I don’t know that it’s a taste of what’s to come. So the steep part ends and I’m glad I ate before I headed up it because now the terrain is exposed and seams too steep to relax on. And I see the beginning of the couloir. And I think holy shit it’s only been 3 hours and there it is. That’s the final pitch. And I head to it with a joy filling my heart as quickly as a certain dread. Dread and fear of being challenged and that I must accept. That the hard part is far from over and that It’s been pretty hard so far. And I get closer. And I look into the mouth of the beast. And its steep and shady and icy and I see the steps I followed have gone up and I will follow. The couloir is thin and traversing is not an option. So the front points must be engaged. They must penetrate the ice and be balanced on. The ice tool must be engaged and balanced on. And at some points these metal tips imbedded in the ice are the only think keeping me on the slippery slope. And I try to find the rhythm again but its steeper and the air is thinner and I must be more thoughtful so I go slower. And I gaze up and see the top and it grows closer and closer and closer but it’s still far and It seems to be eternal again. And then I look up and It’s there. The top of the couloir. And I get to a level bit of ground and a horrifying drop is just beyond. A life taking enormous drop is just beyond. And I speed past it. And I climb on stone with my jagged metal feet. And I cower next to a rocky cave like feature to put on a coat for it has become very windy on this exposed finger of land a finger reaching for god. And its cold and windy and scary up there and as I scrabble up more rock I am faced with being above the first terrible drop and now another even larger hole into space and jagged rock and I am standing on a snow covered rock gangplank with the wind and god flying all around me. And eternity stares coldly into me. And I step carefully and methodically across the narrow band and embrace the summit block.

            From here the Grand dominates the view to the North, its rocky snowy flank and summit all that can be seen up that way. To the east the Jackson Hole with it’s Snake River curving and braiding gracefully out of the mountains into the hole and back into the mountains. To the South the rest of the mountain range is small and below me and I revel in the glory of the snow-covered masses. And to the West the snowy peaks and great plains of Idaho. Of the Teton Valley, Snake River Mountains and Snake river Plains expanding into the infinite horizon. And I am blown by the mountain wind and I think of the people and eyes and gods and I am cold and happy and sad and in this scary steep place and I am confronted by my old questions. “How long can you stand in the presence of glory? How long is long enough? If it is an eternal moment than the amount of measured time is meaningless. Just stay as long as you want. That’s what it’s there for.” So I stay until I’m done and ready for the fear again. And I climb down slowly in the steep snow and ice. I return to couloir and it takes time to down climb, facing in stepping gingerly and balancing on the metal on my feet and in my hand. And I reach the base of this and it’s less steep than it steamed coming up and I take time to slide on my butt down hundreds of feet. And I reach lower less exposed clines and jog and dance through them and reach the canyon walls and turn back to face my mountain and say thank you.

            Thank you for allowing me to be with you. Thank you for the safe passage. I greatly appreciate you providing your glory to me so that I can glorify you. You are my friend.

            And so I laugh and twirl my way through the mountains and snow and into the mountains and dirt. And I remember how it was up there and I remember why I love the mountains and I remember what I love to say about mountaineering. That…

            “Nirvana is boring, it’s nice and never ending. Pain and suffering are the holiest feelings for they frame the world and enhance the glory, joy and beauty. By living you choose to take the pain and suffering and to be it and know it and not to refuse it. So that it can teach you that you chose to be here to know it so that you could know love and the softness of being in bed and being fed and watered. And so that you can glorify everyone else and encourage them to pain for love to know it better. And that in loving the pain and suffering you are loving everything. And that feels good.”