1999 - Exum Ridge and Owen Spaulding

After being rained off of Owen the year before, we decided to reserve campsites on the Grand for two potential dates--that way we had two opportunities to hit a good weather day in the Tetons. The days were two weeks apart. For the first trip, we had a campsite at the Moraine, and Dad, Josh, Ben, and I hiked in. We had decided to try the Owen-Spaulding route. I was interested in trying it, but thought it might be a little underwhelming in comparison to the Exum Ridge or some of the other climbs I'd been on by that time. However, this wasn't the case at all. Maybe it was hearing about and reading about this route for years before climbing it, but I thoroughly enjoyed the Owen-Spaulding route.

We woke up early, hiked to the lower saddle, and scrambled up to the upper saddle. The weather was good, and we roped up to begin climbing. The Owen Spaulding route cuts east from the upper saddle, out on to the North Face of the Grand for a short traverse (the crawl) before cutting up a chimney to a large ledge system. The scrambling up to the upper saddle is pretty easy, and the couloir walls around you and the generally low angle of the climbing make the trip from the lower to the upper saddle quite comfortable, most of the time. The angle flattens out on the upper saddle, and you can see over to Mt. Owen. If you walk to the north edge of the upper saddle, you can peek over the edge down into the Black Ice Couloir, which looks pretty hairy to me. The North Face of the Grand is very steep. When you rope up and edge out onto the face, you can see straight down to the Teton Glacier 1000 feet below you. The wind is typically whipping, and the exposure is exhilarating. You first do a "belly-roll" around a large rock that takes you out away from the saddle. Just past this rock, there is a flake of rock 2-3 feet wide that is directly below an overhang, leaving about 3 feet between the overhang and the flake. This section is called "the crawl", as it can be easily climbed by crawling on the flake, looking down a thousand feet or so to the Teton Glacier. The crawl traverses the face for 50 feet or so, leading to the "double-chimney", which is another short pitch--this time 50 feet or so of easy chimney climbing up to the huge ledge system that contains the rappel point down to the upper saddle--the standard descent route on the Grand.

When we got to this ledge, Dad wasn't feeling well. I think the altitude was getting to him. He told me he was going to stay there and wait for us to climb to the top and back down to him. I took his cams and added them to my rack, and led up the Owen Chimney. This Chimney is a full rope-length of pretty solid rock. The climbing was well-protected and enjoyable. In other years, I have seen this chimney quite icey as we rappelled down it, but we had good weather and it was a nice climb. I set a belay, and belayed first Ben, and then Josh up the chimney. While Ben and I had been climbing, Dad had got his wind back and decided to finish the climb with us. He tied on to Josh's rope, and they simul-climbed the Owen Chimney. From the top of the Chimney, the summit is only a short scramble on 4th class ledges. I remember Ben saying something like: "You know, this was a great mountain--the only thing that I thought was missing was a really hard section--maybe a really tough 5.10 pitch to up the sense of accomplishment."

We had reserved a night on the Saddle for the following week. Dad wasn't feeling up to it, so Josh and I went to climb the Exum ridge together. I don't remember the hike being that bad. We found a decent spot to camp, sheltered from the wind. Unfortunately, it was also quite close to the Exum guides hut. That particular day, the Exum group consisted of a bunch of kids--young teenagers. When Josh and I tried to get to bed early, the kids next door kept us up, playing and laughing only a few feet from our door. I remember thinking that someone should have made them carry full packs up to the Saddle; then they wouldn't have so much energy. We grumpily set our watches for an hour earlier and vowed to hit the trailhead before them so that they wouldn't slow us down in the morning.

Somehow, we slept through our alarms and got started after the Exum group. We never caught up to them--actually, I don't think I've ever kept pace with an Exum-Guided group, in all the years I've climbed. They are a well-oiled machine--even though they are guiding people who are less-experienced in the mountains, they know right where to go and consistently make great time. Our climb went well. We scrambled up past the Needle and onto Wall Street. The weather was nice as we climbed up the Golden Stair and the Windy Tunnel, to the base of the Friction Pitch.

The Friction Pitch is the trickiest section on the Exum Ridge. I remembered watching Dad lead up it the first time we climbed it, years before, and I tried to position myself where he had climbed. There is a long ledge that makes a nice belay point at the base of the bumpy slab of dark granite. The route, as we had done it, climbs up this slab to exit the Windy Tunnel couloir and regain the Exum Ridge. I looked up at the pitch and remembered Dad hanging a sling on a little horn about 10 feet up from the belay ledge. As I looked at the climb, the rock looked easier angling up to the left, but the horn I remembered Dad using would only be useful if I angled up to the right. The guidebook also mentions that the Friction Pitch is climbed by first angling left, then back right, though I have since found that the guidebook assumes a different start to the pitch, from a large boulder about 30 feet left and up from where Josh and I had our belay point.

I distinctly remember thinking that the climbing looked better to the left, but following my memories and what I thought was the suggestion of the guidebook, I started up the pitch angling to the right. I hooked a sling around the small horn--this sling was perhaps more useful psychologically than it would have been in practice--the horn is small, and the sling might have held if I fell straight down, but probably would pop off if I fell out at all. I moved up five or ten feet, still angling right on slabby friction climbing. I made one more friction move up, using downpressure with my hands, and suddenly realized I was stuck. I was balanced on my feet, which were smeared on angled rock. There were no holds for my hands, and I was positioned in a shallow, concave section of rock. While the rock at my feet was angled enough for me to smear on it, the rock in front of my chest and head was vertical, and the rock above my head was slightly overhanging. I looked down at the friction climbing I had done to reach this point, and wasn't sure I could climb back down it. I looked for options, but couldn't move.

At that point, I heard a voice distinctly in my head. It was an angry, mocking voice. It's tone was filled with malice and seemed to be exulting in my predicament. "You're going to fall!" It said. "You're going to fall!" I heard that voice, and immediately said in my heart: "No." I closed my eyes and said a silent, fervent prayer: "Heavenly Father, help me to climb this climb." I opened my eyes, and began looking around again, searching the rock for holds. I glanced up, and my eyes fixed on one section of rock. The thought came to my mind: "maybe there's a hold up there". I couldn't see anything, but I stretched up on the tips of my toes and reached a hand up. I can still remember the feel of the hold that was hidden there, a pocket in the rock just big enough to fit all four of my fingers completely in it. The granite was rough and gave me an excellent grip. I pulled on it, repositioned my feet higher, and lifted myself out of the shallow, concave section and on to the easier, angled slabs above. I think I grunted a little as I made the move, and Josh said something like: "That's not good. You shouldn't be grunting on this." I said that he shouldn't follow me, but should try angling to the left instead. He said that looked easier to him anyway.

I've never had an experience quite like that before or since. I'm convinced that the voice I heard in my head was the voice of Satan or one of his angels. I know the Lord answered my fervent prayer and guided me out of my predicament, even though it was one of my own making. There is no way I would have known about the hold that was hidden in the rock. I couldn't see it from below, and had been looking for any holds to use for some time. I'm thankful for how the Holy Spirit guided me that day.

The rest of the climb was pleasant. We scrambled up to the V-pitch, and across the summit block to the summit of the Grand. It was a fun day on a good climb with my brother.