Who: Dad, Eph, Chad, ???
Mom--do you have any more pictures of this by chance?
Eph's Account:
When I think of the trip up the Grand in 1992, it's amazing to me how much we have learned since then. In those early trips, we were wearing thrift-store wool pants and shirts for layers; I think my rain gear was a pair of painters pants and one of those fold-up ponchos that is really just a square of plastic with a hood attached in the middle of the square. We packed up cans of spam to eat for dinner, thinking that we'd be hungry and want the energy to help us climb the Grand. Our rack was made of perhaps a dozen chocks. My harness was a "swiss seat" made of a length of webbing tied into leg loops and a belt.
We've upgraded in many ways over the years. Our equipment is much better, we know what we eat and use and what we don't use, so our packs are much lighter than they were. But starting as we did gave me some useful skills. I could easily tie myself a harness if I needed it, or set up to rappel without a figure-eight or ATC. There are benefits to having to do without expensive gear--you learn what to do if you ever were without it.
I remember being a little scared of the mountains in 1991. In 1992, I was more excited, though still a little scared. We drove up to Jackson, checked in at the ranger station, and drove to the Lupine Meadows trailhead. Those first couple of years, I remember thinking that the switchbacks leading up out of the valley, before the trail enters Garnet Canyon, were long. I think that was because I hadn't humped a pack above the Meadows yet. These days, those first switchbacks fly by on the way up. The hard part of the trail comes as you climb up the north fork of Garnet Canyon between the Meadows and the Lower Saddle. It is steep and relentless, especially on a hot afternoon. The 1992 trip was my first experience hiking that trail with a pack. We were going to camp at the Caves, which is a beautiful campsite halfway between the Meadows and the Moraine below the Lower Saddle. Chad dubbed the trail above the Meadows "The Hill From Heck". We were pretty tuckered out by the time we got to the Caves.
The campsites we found at the Caves are in shallow caves under glacial moraine boulders. We brought up tents, but used them only to block the entrance to the caves. It's a beautiful campsite, perched on a steep slope with a waterfall running down below it. I don't remember much about the evening there. I think I packed up SPAM for dinner, but wasn't that hungry and ate something else instead. We went to bed early, and I slept well.
We woke up quite early. I don't remember the hour, but it was dark for a long time while we hiked up the trail. Chad noticed that the "Hill from Heck" continued, though it was better without a full pack. I don't remember much of the hike up to the Lower Saddle, or the hiking/scrambling directly above it.
I do, however, remember seeing Wall Street for the first time. Above the Lower Saddle, you hike/scramble up to a tower called the Needle, which is the end of a small ridge leading up to the Upper Saddle. You skirt around the Needle and climb up to the ridge behind it. At the top of the ridge you can see a small shallow couloir between you and the Exum ridge, and the Wall Street ledge cutting diagonally up to the ridge. I remember being a little awed. We stopped to eat breakfast while looking at Wall Street, then dropped down into the couloir and up onto Wall Street.
Wall Street starts out about 20-30 feet wide, then narrows as it gets closer to the ridge. It angles up some, and slants out, though not uncomfortably. Near the tip of the ridge, the Wall Street ledge is only a few feet wide, and there is a nice belay spot. We put on our harnesses and roped up. Dad was leading, and I was belaying him on his rope. Chad was leading the second rope behind me. Because we only had enough chocks for one lead climber, Dad would place the chocks, I would follow him on our rope, but wouldn't clean the gear out--I left it behind for Chad, who would lead on his rope, using the pieces that Dad had placed. The last person on the rope would pull the gear and bring it up to Dad. So, all four of us had to climb before Dad could lead the next pitch.
I remember being a little scared while climbing Wall Street. The ledge peters out to about a couple of inches when it hits the ridge crest. That first year we walked on the ledge, which required some tricky balance, if I remember right. It seems like the wind is always blowing on Wall Street, and I'm always a little cold.
As we climbed up, I remember the weather getting worse. Looking back and seeing the pictures, I don't think it was ever that bad, but I remember one point, a couple of pitches up, where it was starting to snow lightly on us. Dad was also starting to feel sick--a touch of altitude sickness I think. I remember feeling helpless--I knew we needed Dad to help us get to the top and down again. I said a fervent, silent prayer that Dad would feel better. Soon after that, Dad did feel better, and I don't think he felt sick for the rest of the trip.
We climbed up through the windy tunnel couloir, past the friction pitch, and up the "V-pitch". I don't remember it being very rainy while we were climbing, but I remember getting worried about the weather. We scrambled along the summit ledge, and made it to the top. The picture of me on the summit shows some dark clouds, but doesn't look too bad. However, the weather started to turn. The clouds started rolling in. Since we were at the highest point, the cloud bands seemed to be right at our level--they would roll towards us, and when they would hit, some light rain would fall. We occasionally saw lightning touch peaks around us as we scrambled down. I distinctly remember hearing the rocks "pop" with static electricity once. it was a low, bass, "pop-pop-pop-pop" sound that I've never heard before or since.
We were a little stressed about finding the rappel point down the Owen chimney, but found it without much trouble. This rappel put us at the ledge directly above the upper saddle, and we found the rappel point there as well. While setting up our rappel here, another climbing party caught up to us, on their way down as well. One of them said that he had stuck his ice axe in the air to get a cool summit picture. He said it had started to ring with static electricity, inspiring them to make a quick descent. The large rappel to the upper saddle was fun, and we were all happy to be getting down from the summit, with the weather getting a little more threatening.
After we had all rappelled, we started to pull the rope, but it was stuck. Try as we might, we couldn't budge it. I'm not sure how it became stuck. Dad shouted up to the party above, but the wind was blowing, and it was hard to hear. We couldn't tell if they heard us, but they must have got the idea and fixed whatever was keeping the rope from sliding through the anchors. The rope fell down to us, we packed it up and scrambled down in the rain.
Because we had started from the Caves, and climbed slowly (due to having to wait for all four people to climb before beginning the next pitch), it had taken us something like 11 hours to get to the summit. By the time we got back to camp, we were exhausted, and it was getting late. I crawled into my shared cave with Chad to rest. I'm not sure we even talked with the other two until the next morning. I think a few hours after we sacked out in our cave, we roused ourselves enough to cook and eat some dinner, then went straight to bed. We were woken up once in the middle of the night by rain, fixed the tent fabric blocking the entrance to our cave, and went back to sleep. I remember being exhausted, but glad we had done it.
I look back at that trip and think it really set the stage for me. The previous year, I had been scared many times while climbing. During this climb on the Grand, I had also felt worried and scared, but my attitude had changed. I think I came away from this trip with the knowledge that there were often many difficulties faced when climbing a mountain, but that they could be overcome. I remembered my answered prayer when Dad was feeling sick, and remembered how we'd been able to climb the mountain, even when conditions weren't perfect. This climb gave me a confidence that stayed with me in those mountains for years.
