Can you tell what it is yet?
The Tetons 3rd time running..
And a gloomy Tetons and a plan to walk the full length of Cascade Canyon to Lake Solitude. A walk of which we had only managed two thirds the summer before. The other plan is to ensure we catch the ferry back across Jenny Lake to avoid another “they were the longest two miles of my life episode”. So…7 am up to catch the 8 am ferry giving us until 6 pm.
It’s not looking good..
3 pm the day before
And the howl of the gyspy ranger’s curse still ringing in our ears…
”if it’s RAAAAAYNING down here it will be SERNOOOOOWING higher up the canyon”
The crocodile of waterproofs which actually looked line a giant green centipede as only the feet were on view…
bunch of drama queens.
5pm we are sitting in the car outside the Jackson Hole Albertsons' store trapped by the rain which threatens to sweep away the 8 cylinder Tundra parked opposite. P is contemplating a night in the cowboy motel, hoping they have forgotten my projectile vomit exhibition.
It eases and we stock up again, including a new blanket from the sports shop because for the last 3 nights in Yellowstone my maxi strength goose grease, winter papoose sleeping bag and hermetically sealed thermal combinations have failed to stop me feeling the cold.
We get back to camp where there appears to have been only a spit. In a fit of “scouty” enthusiasm everything is prepared for the next day and gathering ants in the bear locker overnight. I slip into my goose greased combinations, optimism heightened by my new “blankie”. Linus in Peanuts had it so worked out man.
7 am …a brief reminder the toilet block is three pots and a sink running cold water and no plugs. It is -3. The usually determined P rolls over taking his thermals and bobble hat and part of MY blankie with him….muttering ..bugger it.
8.30 am the sun has sprinkled a slight warmth and as the harpie of the camp kitchen I waft a flask full of tea under his nose.
9.30 am we catch the boat wearing 3 layers but then the climb up to Inspiration Point has loosened the layers and revealed I need Harmony hairspray (Click here if you were born after 1974)
The view downwards over the edge make’s the pulse race, thus helping the blood circulation too.
And the snow scare mongering is so unfounded.
Or is it?
We crack on at a merry pace. Some blue sky
11.00 am
Oh look we have arrived at the same spot we reached last year, where the cascades meet and dribs and drabs of snow
For 100 yards and then
I am not on snow, I am in snow…P is on top of the snow. We walk through the forest on 3 ft of compacted snow for a while, emerging into the light and then look back from whence we came
Once in open valley I have to concentrate on not stepping into P’s tracks since the compacted snow of the trees has given way to softening snow .. he goes down to his knees, I go down to my thigh and have to do the temper tantrum stomp to get out of the holes he’s made. There is no obvious path so we traverse what we think is the safest route.
Marmot snickers at only 2 ft away since he knows I can’t catch him…
P is so hot he bares his naked chest but decency prevents me from showing the picture. And we walk on
Do I look tired to you?
And there it is….
What ?
What indeed you might bloody ask…Lake Solitude of course, whaddya mean you don’t believe us?
Well there was a lake and an otter shot through a hole in the surface but we didn't catch that on camera either.
I need a rest
It is 1 pm we head back. P wants to be alone or is it that I can't keep up?
Altogether now to the tune of Buddy Holly - Raining in my Heart, 2,3 4
The sun is out
The sky is blue
The sun is out, the sky is blue...
The snow is melting P D Q
So P is sinking,
Sinking to his crotch.
It is only as P cracks his shin disappearing down a crevice or maybe that’s a crevasse…well we have no way of knowing whether we are on a path, that I finally see the point of snow pole/sticky things which I have always viewed as one of a few things:
- a means of trying to convince onlookers you conquered the North Face of the Eiger last week
- less old fashioned than a walking stick
- less nerdy than a walking stick with badges of all the mountains with a gift shop at the bottom or where the cable car ends
- the wrong thing you picked out of the umbrella stand at 7 am on a morning when the BBC had predicted precipitation of a precipitative nature hurlting down from Forties Cromerty
- solely to trip short people up when they have enough things to think about when climbing mountains
We , well I struggle and at some point P looks back to see where I am…
Retracing my steps…because I dropped my Jack Wolfskin fleece 100 yards back. Heaven forbid I leave it behind.
To add insult to injury as I walk past the tiniest spray of Christmas tree peeping out the of the snow..it discovers new found vigour and three foot of the rest of it, mischievously hidden under its pristine white blanket, twangs upwards, out of the depths slapping me in the face with ice and snow..and yes once again I have lost two feet of my original height but I am a brave soldier until
"Come on we don’t want to miss the boat…” comes the helpful call across the avalanche prepped valley…I decide to “ski” my way back, slipping and sliding down dips, tumbling and rolling when necessary.
It is 2.30 pm I have just recovered my aplomb from a dip in a very slushy hollow when, 2 Texan girls pop out from the trees. How do I know they are Texan? Because
1) they ask if there is time to get to the lake and back and still reach the boat for 6.
2) they have been whisked by, their oil magnate or Barnet shale magnate daddy , by uber speedy jet directly from a TCU cheerleaders training session in 100 degrees F and the journey was that quick they didn't have time to change from their football shorts, t shirts, ankle socks and “pumps”.
We provide the facts obviously in Serbo Croat since they felt it necessary to nod respectfully and ignore us anyway.
I mutter about the stupidity of not being prepared for winter walking …having just traversed an unmarked snow plain and as my indignant yada yada yada pride reaches it’s peak WHOMP flat on my face.
P cries......
Not in shock or sympathy.
When he has recovered he offers me a fluff covered chocolate raisin then picks me up by the seat of my pants like a sack of potatoes.
When we get back to the 5.30 boat not only have Ipsy and Dipsy migrated from the heat but the whole of bloody Texas is waiting, none of them believe we too are native Texans but at least don't mistake us for Serbo Croat.
And now an example of what happens to a man pushed to his physical limits…12 miles ofCascade Canyon 5 of which were in more than 3ft of snow.
You need to know the beer is called “Old Faithful” which is the title of the signature tune of the rugby league team Hull FC, the arch rivals to P’s team Hull Kingston Rovers. Coupled with the 6 day whiskers and the alluring perfume of my goose grease and thermals he’s losing it…that’s it he needs a wash and some civilisation.
2nd full day in the Tetons and an eery drive to the shower block 17 miles away…
On the way back, an acute sense of déjà vu…the exact spot and blurry vision of the coyote that tracked us last year
The rest of the day everyone relaxes
Well that was the plan but we go for an evening walk of 6 miles
On our return, in tribute to Alexis Soyer, Victorian Celebrity Chef the outdoor culinary endeavours commence, 15 minutes in and
“Wow that smells great, isn’t that just how it’s meant to be done ma’am”Two young women and a bean pole saunter up, P is already pretending to be a rock by the fire and has left me in unguarded position. I look up too late and off they go:
“My name is na na, my name is na na and he (the bean pole) is na na. We are from the Happy Clappy Slappy Backy Church of the Unswervingly Optimistic Blessed and Sandled (Multi Faith) and we would like to invite you to our multi faith service tomorrow morning at 8.30 am. It is a little early but we would be delighted to see you there.”
"We will see what we can do but we have been rather energetic of late”
They
“What have you been doing?”The fire stone talks!
“Well we walked to Lake Soli…They of the perfect teeth,
“OMG are you the mad couple that walked through snowdrifts. You did so well."
(for old gits is the subtext, if they knew such a terrible phrase)
Day 3 we leave the Tetons to the shimmering tring of tambourine
And they are oblivious to their huge loss of my rendition of "They Plough the fields and scatter"
And looking back down the valley as we approach the other side of the Tetons on our trip to west Glacier I have a real Three Degrees Moment
Day 3 we leave the Tetons to the shimmering tring of tambourine
And they are oblivious to their huge loss of my rendition of "They Plough the fields and scatter"
And looking back down the valley as we approach the other side of the Tetons on our trip to west Glacier I have a real Three Degrees Moment
“OMG are you the mad couple that walked through snowdrifts. You did so well"
And S is nowhere, nowhere to be seen
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