CAN I LIVE WHILE I'M YOUNG?

Christy and I decided to stay an extra week and backpack the Tetons. What the hell, we'd already been gone over 3 weeks, so what's another one? Seriously though, we had an opportunity to backpack in one of America's most scenic mountain ranges. Who could tell when we'd get another chance? We were already there, so it would've been a waste to pass it up. Carpe Diem.

We decided to take Saturday to recover and run errands. We'd start our backpack on Sunday and finish on Thursday. That would get us back to Boulder in time to spend another weekend with our friends. Then we'd return home early the following week.

Christy and I debated all sorts of backpacking routes Friday night. I wanted to hit the major highlights of the park, and proposed several options that would accomplish that. We even considered taking the ski lift to the top of the mountain and hiking the crest before descending. We rejected that as being too wimpy, not to mention expensive (the price per person for the tram is $17).

Ultimately we decided on a loop. We'd start at Lupine Meadows, just south of Jenny Lake. We'd follow the lightly traveled Valley Trail south past Bradley Lake and camp at Phelps Lake the first night. The hike would get serious on day 2. We'd hike up Death Canyon into the heart of the park. On the 3^rd day we'd climb out of Death Canyon and follow the Teton Crest into Alaska Basin to camp. Day 4 would have us climbing to Hurricane Pass, descending the South Fork of Cascade Canyon, and camping in the North Fork. On the final day we'd descend Cascade Canyon to Jenny Lake and return to Lupine Meadows. We'd be covering 35 miles or so in 5 days. After our trips in Colorado and Yellowstone, this would seem like a leisurely weekend backpack. Right?

NO RESERVATIONS, NO PROBLEM

The ranger station opened at 8AM, but I was there at 7:30. We didn't have reservations, so I wanted to maximize our chance of getting the campsites we wanted. My plan worked well. I was first in line, and we got the route we had chosen. It took 10 minutes to process the permit, and by the time I left there were a handful of people waiting in line. The park has several ranger stations, so it was definitely to our advantage to get there early.

If you plan to backpack in the Tetons, I recommend skipping the reservations. It will save you $20 and give you more flexibility if you need to make changes. Just make sure you can be at the ranger station at 7:30 the morning BEFORE you intend to start your trip.

I returned to camp and picked up Christy, who had enjoyed the opportunity to sleep in. We then drove 60-some miles to Dubois for breakfast. We could've had breakfast at the park restaurant at Colter Bay, but we had something else in mind. Some years ago we traveled to Wyoming to backpack for a week in the Wind River Range. Afterwards we had a wonderful breakfast at the Cowboy Café in Dubois. We couldn't shake the memory of that meal, so we had to drive to Dubois for breakfast. That was ok though. Unlike Jackson, we actually enjoy spending time in Dubois. Plus, it's a scenic drive.

We stopped at an overlook to appreciate the view of America's most photographed mountains. Mist was clinging to the flanks of the mountains, but the peaks were soaring above the clouds. That view made we wonder all the more about the naming of these mountains. As you may know, early French trappers named the peaks the Tetons because they thought they looked like breasts. Really. Grab a French / English dictionary if you don't believe me. Obviously those French guys had been alone in the woods way too long, if you know what I mean. First of all, there are THREE peaks. Not two. Hell, not even four. Also, they're rather pointy. Of course these guys were French, so maybe that explains it.

We drove east past the sheer cliffs that guard the continental divide. I was faint from hunger when we finally arrived in downtown Dubois. We found the Cowboy Café to be much the same as it was 5 years ago. In fact, I'm pretty sure I got the same thing - a ham & cheese breakfast skillet. It was good, but maybe not as great as I remembered. That's the problem with legendary meals - they establish a standard that's hard to live up to.

After lunch we stopped at the Dubois library to check our email. Then we wandered through town and did some shopping. Our final stop was at the local grocery store. We found most of the things we needed for our trip. However, they didn't have a couple of key items. We hoped that we would be able to find them in the park and avoid another trip to Jackson.

We returned to Colter Bay. We had ice cream for lunch (Mom, are you reading this?) and did laundry. We had planned to visit the beach at Jackson Lake and go for a swim, but afternoon thunderstorms ruled that out. The next day we found out that 6 mountain climbers were hit by lightning during the storm. One climber was killed, and several others had to be rescued by helicopter. There was no word as to whether Harrison Ford was involved. The news was an eye opener though. The weather was changing, and we were heading back into alpine country. We'd have to be careful.

The rain stopped that evening in time for us to grill steaks. Yes, we were eating well. In fact, eating well was a prime goal for our Teton backpacking trip. One of my bribes to convince Christy to stay the extra week was that we would take good food. We'd pack no oatmeal. Best of all, I'd carry the frying pan. We'd be cooking eggs and pancakes and pizzas and crab cakes and quesadillas. My pack might weight a ton, but it was only an easy 5-day trip, right?

We spent the rest of the evening enjoying a campfire and playing mad libs. How many different ways can you use "Tetons" in a sentence?

IN THE SHADOW

We reached the trailhead at noon under a brutal sun. It had rained the night before, so we'd waited for the tent to dry before we left the campground. Then we had to drive to Jackson for a couple of key grocery items. We were finally ready to get started now though. Somehow I'd gotten everything in my pack, though it was bulging obscenely. The tortilla chips and fresh salsa may have been going too far.

We were almost ready to go when a Uhaul pulled in next to us. Wow, and I thought we had overpacked. It was driven by a guy that had just gotten out of the army. He was on his way from a base in Virginia to a college in California. He had a couple of weeks to get there, so he was taking the scenic route. He was planning on backpacking to Amphitheater Lake and climbing the Middle Teton the next day. Afterwards, he wanted to backpack for a couple of days in Yellowstone. I suggested Heart Lake or Electric Peak. He was the peak-bagging type, and seemed excited about the prospect of climbing Electric.

We walked through the parking lot and spotted a car with a Furman University sticker on the window. I was tempted to write "Go for 2" on the dusty windshield, but I resisted the urge. After all, it probably wouldn't take them long to find the only car in the parking lot with an Appalachian State University sticker.

We headed up the trail and covered a mile before we stopped for lunch. We were on the main route that climbers use to reach the high peaks. It was a Sunday afternoon, so there was a steady stream of climbers coming down. It was a relief when we turned off the main highway and began our descent to Bradley Lake. The crowds disappeared, and the biggest climb of the first day was over.

We circled Bradley Lake and enjoyed great views of the peaks. We continued to Taggart Lake. We enjoyed similar scenery there before heading into the woods. The next few miles were rather boring, but at least the trail was flat and shady. Occasionally we'd pass a huge Douglas Fir, which made the hike more interesting.

We passed the trail to the Whitegrass Ranger Station and climbed to an overlook of Phelps Lake. We descended on switchbacks, passing a number of people returning from a day at the lake. We found the trail down to the lake and followed it through an Aspen forest. We spotted a deer just before reaching the lakeshore.

There are 3 campsites at Phelps Lake. We took the first one, which is right on the beach. A running joke with the national parks is their rules for camping. My favorite is the old standby, "no camping within 100' of lakes or streams". Almost all of the designated campsites in Yellowstone were less than 100' from water, and this was worse. The Phelps Lake site was within 10' of shore. We pitched the tent as far from the water as possible. If it had been any closer, we would've risked falling in the water getting out of the tent.

Our designated campsite may have been illegal, but it was certainly nice. We had a sandy beach, unlike those rocky shorelines in Yellowstone. From it we had a nice view across the lake to the Gros Ventre Mountains on the far side of Jackson Hole.

We also had a nice view of hundreds of trout that were repeatedly launching themselves out of the water. They were feeding on our old friends, the mosquitoes, which were quite abundant. We were better prepared this time though. We'd brought two bottles of repellant, and both were 100% Deet. We might end up with cancer, but we wouldn't be suffering any more mosquito bites.

Christy made pizzas and we enjoyed fresh salad with them. Afterwards we relaxed and enjoyed the lake until dark. Then we retired, knowing we had a tough climb up Death Canyon the following day.

DEATH

"I am the Grim Reaper. I am Death. I have come for you. To take you away, that is my purpose. I am Death."

"Shut up, you American. You always talk, you Americans. You talk and you talk, and say things like, 'Let me tell you something', and 'I just want to say this.' Well, you're dead now, so shut up. Be quiet, Englishman. You're all so pompous. And you French. You Frenchmen don't know the difference between a pair of breasts and three giant lumps of ice covered rock. What a bunch of riffle droppers."

"I am the Grim Reaper. I am Death. Now, the time has come. Follow me."

We struggled uphill towards the towering cliffs that form the portal of Death Canyon. My pack still weighed a ton, and I was beginning to regret our ambitious menu. It was already hot, and we passed two snakes basking in the sun. At the junction with the Valley Trail we met a family from Wisconsin. They were in the middle of a heated debate as to whether the 5-minute walk down to the lake would be worth it. We offered them encouragement and climbed on.

Initially we passed through a dark forest of massive Cottonwood and Douglas Fir. Then we began ascending past boulders. We followed switchbacks up the canyon wall, high above a cascading stream. The trail was well designed, and the climb wasn't nearly as bad as it looked on the map. It turned out that Death wasn't as bad as we had feared.

We reached the lip of the canyon after 90 minutes and enjoyed a long rest. We had a nice view back to east, through the portal of the canyon to the shimmering water of Phelps Lake. Ahead of us the canyon rose gradually below sheer rock walls.

We hiked upstream through surprisingly thick vegetation. The bottom of the canyon was almost a jungle from the abundant moisture provided by the creek and side streams. Frequently we'd spot small streams cascading down the cliffs.

I was hiking and looking at one of these waterfalls when I nearly ran into Christy. She had stopped, and was looking at something at the base of the cliffs about 100 yards away. It was a brown animal, slowly moving towards us. Then it turned sideways, and there was no mistaking it. It was definitely a bear. A brown bear. It was browsing in the vegetation, and a cub followed. My pulse quickened, and suddenly it was difficult to breathe. I finally found the binoculars in Christy's pack, just as the bears disappeared into a thicket.

My guess is that they were grizzlies, but we'll never know for sure. Black bears sometimes appear brown. I was reluctant to leave, hoping that they would reappear. Then I realized that they had been heading our direction when they disappeared in the vegetation. If mama and cub reappeared on the trail, we would get a better look than we bargained for.

We were full of adrenaline as we hiked on into dark forest. Every time a squirrel snapped a twig we'd jump like schoolgirls being chased by a mouse. We knew that there were bears in the Tetons, but having actually seen two put things in perspective. All of a sudden the park seemed like a much wilder place.

We reached the boundary of the camping area only a few minutes after the bear sighting. Most areas in the Tetons don't have designated campsites. Instead there are zones where camping is allowed. We had just entered the zone that we were headed for, but we didn't even consider any likely sites for the next couple of miles. We wanted to put some distance between the bears and us. Plus, I wanted to camp towards the end of the zone so that we would get a head start on the next day's hike.

After lunch we continued up the canyon. We turned a bend and wandered through meadows interrupted by occasional stands of Whitebark Pine. The cliffs of the canyon were less imposing here. Although steep, the canyon walls were grassy and inviting. The most appealing view was to the west. Up above was the Death Canyon Shelf, where we'd be hiking the next day.

We went a mile without seeing a likely campsite. I was beginning to worry that we'd have to backtrack to find a place. Luckily there were three nice spots just before the upper boundary of the camping zone. We selected one in a stand of Whitebark Pine. It featured a nice view down the canyon, with one of the Tetons peaking above the cliffs.

We arrived early in the afternoon, which allowed us plenty of time to relax, enjoy the view, and swat flies. The mosquitoes weren't bad, but the flies were a plague. We were used to this after Yellowstone though. That evening we enjoyed a dinner of soup and quesadillas, preceded by an appetizer of chips and salsa. After that meal, I was pretty sure I'd be able to actually close my pack the next morning.

Late in the evening a large group of college kids arrived and camped at the site across from us. So much for peace and quiet. Actually they weren't too bad, but there was an incident at the bear cable. A cable hung between two trees, providing a place for hikers to hang food. I had thrown a rope over it earlier, but when I returned I found two packs already hung on it. They were dangling there by some complex counter-balance method, and I had a rough time getting them down. In fact I nearly got one of them stuck 15 feet in the air. Luckily we were able to get them down. It turned out that the packs didn't even belong to the college kids. They were actually owned by a hiker from Israel who was staying at the next campsite down. We reattached his packs and hung our food all on our rope.

It got downright cold that night. This was wonderful, after all of the sweltering nights in Yellowstone. The cold kept the mosquitoes at bay, though I was barely comfortable in my 30-degree bag. The next morning we retrieved our food without any problem, though the hiker from Israel had already gotten his packs and broken camp.

STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN

We started the next morning with pancakes before we began the climb out of Death Canyon. The trail led up through vast meadows full of wildflowers. Indian Paintbrush, Lupine, Yellow Columbine, Sunflowers, Daisies, and many other types of flowers turned the head of the valley into a riot of color. We climbed out of the valley on switchbacks that seemed endless. Finally the stairway ended at the broad saddle of Fox Creek Pass.

From the pass we strolled out onto the broad bench that is the Death Canyon Shelf. The shelf seems to defy gravity as it clings to the side of Mount Bannon and hangs over the deep swath that is Death Canyon. The scenery here defines Grand Teton National Park. There is a mellow beauty, from the scattered boulders and snowfields, to the gentle grassy slopes and gardens of wildflowers. Above this sublime beauty tower the mighty Tetons themselves. The high peaks are all craggy rocky walls and imposing glaciers. Taken together, the contrast of the scene was so stunning that we were compelled to speak in whispers.

Hiking along Death Canyon Shelf was easy, but we still moved slowly. When we weren't taking photos, we were still gaping at the view. We passed several nice campsites, and my biggest regret of the trip was stopping in Death Canyon the night before. The shelf would've been a wonderful place to while away the evening.

We did stop at one campsite for a long break. Here we found an unusual water source. A small stream tumbled down off the cliffs of Mount Bannon before disappearing down a hole. The stream had literally bored its way through the rock of the bench, only to reemerge down in the canyon. The water swirled around where it sank, such that it looked like a toilet that wouldn't stop flushing.

We hiked on across the bench, doing everything we could to prolong the hike. We enjoyed more great views from the northern end. This time the highlight was looking back down Death Canyon where we'd been the day before. Finally we climbed a bit and reached the open saddle of Mount Meek Pass. There was a nice breeze here and a great view into Alaska Basin. We were so reluctant to leave Death Canyon Shelf behind that we stopped for an early lunch.

After lunch we began a long winding descent into Alaska Basin. The trickiest part of the descent was a series of rocky switchbacks called the Sheep Steps. A friend of ours had taken a bad fall here several years before, so we were especially careful of our footing. Below us, the bottom of the basin came into view. If we were in heaven, this must have been the part of paradise where Jerry Garcia hangs out. I say this because there were so many tents below us, the basin looked like the parking lot at a Grateful Dead concert.

Our permit required us to camp in the basin. I feared that we'd have trouble finding a spot, given the crowds in the area. It turned out that my worries were unfounded. Alaska Basin is a big area. We passed a large group of campers and began wandering over a series of glacial benches. We hiked another 1/2 mile or so without seeing a suitable camping spot. Finally I decided to head off trail in search of a campsite.

Hiking cross-country was pretty easy thanks to the open terrain. It was rocky, but the difficult areas were easy to avoid. Finally I found a spot overlooking a small lake above the trail to Static Peak Divide. It was barely big enough for our small tent, but there were lots of rocks around to sit on. Best of all, there was no one else in sight. The area where I had feared the largest crowds turned out to be our most secluded campsite.

We reached camp at 2:30, leaving us plenty of time to explore and enjoy the area. I flirted with the idea of hiking up to Static Peak Divide and possibly even climbing Static Peak. Then I came to my senses. It was hot. I set out in search of a place to swim.

I found the ideal spot rather quickly. Mirror Lake was only 1/4 mile from camp. It is a deep blue tarn nestled in a bowl below the cliffs that ring the basin. I went back to camp and convinced Christy to join me. However, she wouldn't get very far into the icy water. She was definitely spoiled from all of the lukewarm swimming holes in Yellowstone. I went for full immersion, and found it refreshing, albeit brief.

We returned to camp, did laundry, relaxed, and played cards. The biggest problem I was having on this trip was staying entertained. The hiking was so easy, we kept arriving at camp by mid-afternoon. I hadn't brought a book, since my pack was stuffed with food. At least I had plenty of time to absorb my surroundings and relax.

I was rather proud of the job I did hanging a bear line that evening. Trees were few and far between, and those that were around typically didn't have limbs. I finally found a suitable tree, with a single limb a few feet up the trunk. Luckily the limb hung over a cliff, making it high enough. Hanging the food was especially important on this evening, as we had salmon cakes for dinner. Bears don't like salmon, do they?

TWO NAKED MEN AND A MOOSE

We got off to a late start on Wednesday. Eggs and hashbrowns preceded our hike through the north side of Alaska Basin, where we enjoyed more spectacular wildflower displays and great views, especially back to the sheer cliffs of Mount Meek. We then climbed over an annoying rocky ridge before descending to Sunset Lake. The trail routing here was puzzling, as it would've been simple to route the trail around the ridge. That first climb turned out to be the hardest part of Wednesday's hike.

We reached the pretty green gem known as Sunset Lake at the bottom of a grassy basin. Wildflowers were still abundant, and the high mountains surrounding Hurricane Pass loomed beyond. We headed for the pass, prepared for the most difficult climb of the hike.

It turned out to be fairly easy. The trail was well graded with switchbacks, and the scenery took our minds off the actual climbing. The wildflowers continued to be stunning. My favorite meadow featured equal parts of Indian Paintbrush, Daises, and Lupine. The red, white, and blue meadow looked like an American flag dwarfed by the mountains towering above.

We climbed the final slope and reached the broad saddle of Hurricane Pass at 11:30. I was relieved that we arrived here early. A friend of mine had dodged lightning bolts here some years ago, so I had been determined to get beyond the pass well before any afternoon thunderstorms could crop up. We hadn't actually seen anything more than a few clouds since starting the backpacking trip, but it's best to be cautious when it comes to thunderstorms.

Hurricane Pass presented us with a dramatic view. We hadn't actually seen the Tetons since leaving Death Canyon Shelf the previous day. From Alaska Basin, the peaks are hidden by a high ridge. As we crested the pass though, The Tetons were revealed in all of their glory. The South Teton, Middle Teton, and Grand Teton towered above us. Farther north we had a fine view down the South Fork of Cascade Canyon. In the distance was an equally impressive view of Mount Moran and a jumble of peaks in the northern part of the park. Table Mountain and Battleship Mountain dominated the view to the west, with the plains of Idaho in the distance.

This was impressive, but I wasn't content. I decided to climb the ridge to the southeast to get an even better view. Christy warned me that she was pretty certain she had spotted a naked man up that way. I blew it off, figuring that someone was up there working on his tan.

I headed up the grassy slopes above the pass. I hadn't gone far when I spotted Christy's naked man. At first I thought I was looking at a pair of marmots; but no, this was definitely a man. He may have been catching rays, but the woman underneath him was certainly going to have some funny tan lines. Presumably she was his wife, or girlfriend, or perhaps just an overly friendly passing stranger. I had come up here for a better view of the Tetons, but I was definitely getting more than I bargained for. If I had brought the binoculars, I might've gotten a view of the little tetons, righty and lefty. I didn't want to ruin the moment, so I made a quick switchback and climbed in a different direction.

I hiked a considerable distance before I headed back towards the crest of the ridge. I reached it, and found myself staring down into a thousand-foot deep chasm. A vertical slope of ice spilled below me to an emerald green pond. I realized then that I was standing at the top of Schoolroom Glacier. I began to feel a little dizzy, and backed away from the edge.

I continued up the ridge until it ended at a cliff. I had a great view here in nearly every direction. Behind me was the gentle beauty of Alaska Basin, Sunset Lake, and Mount Meek. Across the chasm loomed the Tetons. From my vantage, it was easy to spot numerous glaciers and lakes clinging to the slopes of the peaks. Far below I spotted the old Skyline Trail, which ends at the divide above Avalanche Canyon. I had originally planned to hike this route as a side trip, but I realized that I wouldn't see anything down there that wasn't already in view where I was.

I returned to the pass and had lunch with Christy. While I was gone, she had found a nice fleece jacket that someone had left behind. We added it to the growing pile of gear we'd found on the trail since leaving North Carolina. In addition to the fleece, we had acquired a canteen, a sleeping pad, a hat, and a serviceable trekking pole. This partially made up for all of the gear that had broken during the course of our adventures. The canteen had come in quite handy, as we had two camelback pakteens spring leaks in Colorado. Christy's therm-a-rest had also lost air, so the sleeping pad was useful. The rest of the stuff was nice enough to keep in its own right.

We loitered on the pass for awhile before heading down. We descended on switchbacks, and passed several areas that were buried in snow only a few days earlier. At the base of the hill we reached the stream running out of Schoolroom Lake. I followed it a short distance through the notch it had carved in the glacier's terminal moraine. This provided access to the milky water of the lake. Schoolroom glacier tumbled down the slope above, and it was almost hard to believe that I had been standing up there a couple of hours earlier.

We hiked down the South Fork of Cascade Canyon. Initially the hike was exciting, as we passed underneath countless cascades spilling from the glaciers down into the canyon. We followed the canyon's main stream, which was a foaming torrent of snowmelt. Eventually the trail led down into the trees. The hike seemed to drag on and on. It was getting late in the afternoon, and we were used to being in camp by 2pm. Finally we reached a junction and knew we were getting close. We followed the trail up the North Fork of Cascade Canyon. We hiked along a similar stream, but broke out into meadows after only a mile or so. From the first clearing, we had a great view back down the canyon to the Grand Teton, Mount Owen, and Teewinot Mountain.

We crossed the creek on a bridge and began looking for a campsite. The first site we reached was occupied. We continued up the trail, but Christy stopped and pointed. Just off the path, a young male moose was feeding. He was only 20 yards away, but didn't seem to be disturbed by our presence. He kept on browsing while we used most of our remaining film taking his portrait. Meanwhile, we found a nice campsite on the opposite side of the trail. It featured a huge flat boulder that provided a view of the mountains as well as an ideal cooking location.

We set up camp and began working on dinner. Meanwhile, our new friend the moose browsed his way across the trail. He wandered through our campsite and promptly bedded down behind our tent. It was unbelievable; we were sharing a campsite with a moose!

We had pasta and pesto for dinner and tried to enjoy the view of the peaks. This was difficult though, because a man at the campsite below ours was walking around naked. Well, not exactly naked, he did have a t-shirt on. The mosquitoes weren't terrible, but I don't think I'd expose that much flesh. Or at least that kind of flesh. He appeared to be brushing his teeth. What was going on with all of the naked men today? In case you're wondering, no, it wasn't the same guy we'd seen earlier. Don't ask how I know.

After dinner our moose got up and browsed through camp again. I got a bit alarmed when he sniffed at our packs and checked out the tent. Fortunately he wasn't interested in them. He headed up the hill, browsing as he went. We retired shortly after enjoying the alpinglow on the peaks. I intended to walk up to Lake Solitude the next morning, and I planned an early start.

WHERE'S THE PARTY?

I was up early and out of camp by 6:30 on Thursday. The sky was bright, but the sun still had a long way to go to climb above the rim of the canyon. I headed upstream, through a mixture of meadows and spruce stands. I passed dozens of marmots along the way. In fact, I nearly tripped over a fat one that was a bit slow getting out of the way.

I reached Lake Solitude in an hour. Lake Solitude is usually spoken of in ironic terms. Although it's a long walk from the nearest trailhead, it is known for attracting crowds. In fact, it's the single most famous spot along the park's most popular overnight loop. However, I got to experience the lake in its namesake condition. There wasn't a soul around when I arrived, and I enjoyed a long rest by the water. The lake is beautiful. It is surrounded by meadows that haven't been trampled, despite the heavy visitation. From the far end of the lake, there is a dramatic view across the water to the massive bulk of the Grand Teton.

I enjoyed the lake for awhile before heading back. I returned to camp, but picked up our food bags from the bear box near the group camp. We had stashed our food there, as we hadn't had any luck hanging a bear bag the night before.

Christy and I broke camp and backtracked down Cascade Canyon. We reached the junction at the forks and continued downstream. We saw a few backpackers at the forks, but afterwards we began to encounter a steady stream of hikers. Everyone seemed to be heading for Lake Solitude. A boat shuttle runs across Jenny Lake, and we were seeing the first hikers to have gotten off the boat. The farther we went, the more we ran into. By the time we reached the lower end of the canyon, we were having trouble making progress in the face of the oncoming wave of dayhikers. Where was the party? Apparently at Lake Solitude, but I guess we weren't invited.

We hiked in a deep canyon below high cliffs. The bare rock above contrasted nicely with the thick vegetation along the stream. This was ideal moose habitat, but we didn't see any. Soon the creek began to cascade. We followed a trail away from the stream, and reached a nice overlook above Inspiration Point. Here we had a pleasant view over Jenny Lake and a nice look back up Cascade Canyon. Best of all, there were only a few other people around.

We had a snack and resumed our descent. We reached inspiration point, but the only inspiration I felt was to get the hell out of there. There were tourists everywhere. Most of them were blocking the trail, to the extent that it was difficult to determine which way we were supposed to go. After 5 days in the wilderness, we wouldn't have been any more disoriented if we had suddenly been dropped on an alien planet.

We eventually found the trail, and fought our way down. There was an onslaught of tourists coming up, most walking side-by-side. It was like walking the wrong direction through a parade. At one point, a fat little turd of tourist spawn came running by, nearly knocking Christy off the trail. I tripped him with my stick. Hiking sticks are useful in a multitude of ways, but this was the first time I ever had to use mine as a weapon.

We finally reached the stream again, and took a short side trip to see Hidden Falls. Apparently it isn't hidden very well, as at least 50 tourists had found it at the same time that we had. Shhhhhh! It's a secret.

We jockeyed for position, and eventually reached a spot where we could see the falls. Christy even managed a picture. It was a nice waterfall, but it was hardly worth elbowing our way through a thicket of Jackson Hole's finest to see it.

We descended to Jenny Lake and hiked around the south shore. I had expected the crowds to disappear, since most tourists take the boat across. We still had plenty of company though, in the form of super-tourists, who weren't afraid of walking a couple of miles. This trail was narrow, so it was every bit as difficult to make progress. The trail also featured a never-ending series of 50' hills. The map showed the trail as being completely flat, but it didn't turn out that way.

At one point Christy made a funny comment. She said that the most annoying thing about the tourists was that they smelled like soap. I could only hope that they were equally offended by our own special brand of odor.

At one point we encountered a pack of French tourists. Hearing them talk got me thinking. What were they expecting when they planned a trip to Grand Teton National Park? That would be like Christy and I going to France and visiting Big Boobs National Park.

The French tourists were particularly adept at blocking the trail, and I was out of patience. I lowered my shoulder. They're going to be nursing some nasty bruises by the time they get back to Pair-eeee. I think they tried to surrender to us as we came through, but we were too busy trying to get to the car to acknowledge it.

We reached the trail to the Moose Ponds and finally left the tourists behind. We hiked past the ponds, but saw no moose. That may have had something to do with the fact that it was noon and almost a hundred degrees. After the ponds we hiked into the woods and enjoyed the shade. Then we came out in Lupine Meadows, and reached the road only a few yards from the overflow parking lot where we'd left the car. This was a wonderful surprise, as I had expected to reach the road farther down.

We drove back to Colter Bay. We enjoyed $3 showers and had ice cream for lunch again. (Mom, are you still reading?) Then we left the Tetons behind and headed east. We drove towards Dubois again, but stopped west of town at the Falls Campground. The falls themselves weren't terribly exciting, but the campground was nice. For $8 we got a cool, shady spot within earshot of the falls. The campground was half-empty, so it was certainly peaceful. Our neighbors were classic white trash though. There was a whole family, and they would've made an excellent HONEST advertisement for Budweiser. I mention this mainly because the Budweiser logo was prominent on much of the family's clothing. The best part though was the teenage girl. She was wearing a tube top and a towel. At least I think that was a towel around her waist. She was also walking two poodles, which left an image in my mind that I'll probably never be rid of.

We set up camp and drove to Dubois. The Mexican place there was closed, apparently for good. We tried The Wild Bunch Café in downtown. It's a fun place, with outdoor seating on the front porch. We both had cheeseburgers and salads. The food was good, but neither of us could finish the whole burger.

We reflected on the trip. We had enjoyed some great mountain scenery, and the outrageous wildflowers added to the beauty. Seeing the bears and moose had given the trip a wilderness flavor, and had compensated nicely for the lack of wildlife on the Yellowstone backpacking trip. We were definitely glad we had stayed. We agreed though that hiking down Cascade Canyon had been a mistake. Going over Paintbrush Divide and down Paintbrush Canyon would have been longer, but much less annoying. If we return to the Tetons, we'll make it a priority to go that way.

We stopped at the grocery store to get our traditional post-hike beer. They didn't sell it though, so we stopped at one of several bars and picked up some. We returned to camp, and enjoyed a wonderful evening. It was cool, to the point of being almost cold. This was a wonderful change from the weather we'd experienced the last few weeks.

GO MILK A COW

We got up late and drifted into Dubois for another breakfast at the Cowboy Café. We had omelets this time, but I liked the skillets better. From there we drove to Lander. It was a scenic ride, with the snowy peaks of the Wind River Range keeping us company along the way. At one point, we had to stop for cattle crossing the road. They were being herded by two girls on horses. One of the girls couldn't have been a day over 5 years old. Apparently she must've been born on it, because she was handling it fairly well.

Lander is a sizable town, but after that was hours of desolation. We passed Jeffery City, which turned out to be the last outpost of civilization on the edge of the desert. As far as I could tell, Jeffery City consisted entirely of 1 liquor store, 2 bars, some sort of church in a trailer, and a motel that Norman Bates could have made presentable given the appropriate tools and a year or two.

Afterwards we ventured into the desert of the Great Basin. In this part of southern Wyoming, the Continental Divide ceases to exist. The basin is so dry, there isn't any water flowing anywhere. As a result, it's impossible to determine where the Continental Divide actually lies.

We raced through the basin and reached the interstate in Rawlings. We headed east towards Laramie, and tried to count all of the Pronghorn Antelope amid the herds of cattle. Along the way we passed numerous signs warning that parking is not allowed in travel lines. I was greatly concerned about these signs, as they wouldn't be there if parking in the middle of the interstate wasn't already a problem. We also passed a unique point of interest. I say point of interest, because that's exactly what the exit sign on the interstate said. "Point of interest". Nothing more, nothing less. It didn't say if it was a prairie dog's hometown, or a three-legged Bob Dole, or anything. It simply said, "point of interest". That was a bit vague, so we didn't stop. The "point of interest" turned out to be a tree growing right out of a boulder, sitting in the median of the interstate. We'll make sure to stop next time.

We stopped for gas in Laramie, and encountered what passes for road rage in Wyoming. One gas station had unusually low prices, and it had attracted quite a crowd. An RV was waiting behind us while we were filling up. I moved the car as soon as I finished to get out of the way. Before the RV could pull up, a pickup whipped in front of it. Words were exchanged. In Charlotte, violence, and quite likely murder, would've ensued. We weren't in Charlotte though. Finally the pickup driver hollered, "GO MILK A COW" and sped away. I guess that's what passes for a grave insult in Wyoming.

We headed for Cheyenne, and approached a massive wall of black clouds as we neared town. The scene looked like it something right out of the movie "Twister". Luckily, we were able to avoid the storm with some deft navigation. We headed south on I-25 and left the storm behind.

We made it to Boulder late that afternoon. Brian and Jill graciously took us in and fed us again. Christy and I are like stray dogs; if you keep feeding us, we'll always come back for more. This is especially true with Jill's cooking.

The weekend followed the usual pattern. We lounged. We ate steaks. We indulged in daiquiris. We played spades until 3 in the morning. We even accomplished a few things. My brakes had begun grinding in Wyoming, and Brian changed the pads for me. This saved me at least $100, which helped to justify the trip from a financial perspective. In fact, the whole trip was a monetary success. Our expenses had been limited to a few nights of camping, a few meals, groceries, and gas. In the end, we actually spent significantly less during July than history suggests we would've at home. This leads me to the inevitable conclusion that the secret to achieving financial security is to forget about the job search and go on more trips.

Sunday was our last day in Colorado. We got up late, thanks to playing spades all night on Saturday. We did squeeze in an afternoon run. Luckily it was cloudy and cool for a change. Afterwards we went with Brian, Jill, and their daughters to a local indoor pool. For a couple of bucks we had two pools and a pair of waterslides at our disposal. This was great fun, and I wasn't the least bit embarrassed about joining the kids on the waterslides.

MALAISE

We were up before dawn on Monday. We left Boulder at 6:30 in an attempt to make it through Denver before traffic got bad. This worked well, and we had a great radio station to liven up the drive for the first couple of hours. KBCO in Denver provides a refreshing alternative to the Clear Channel Communications crap we have to suffer through back home. I knew I was listening to something special when they played a ten-minute Phish song. I certainly never heard anything like that on any of miserable corporate stations back home.

The drive back was a drag. Coming out hadn't seemed bad, but this was different. On the return, I had nothing to look forward to. Well, nothing except seeing my dog and lying on my couch and sleeping in my own bed for the first time in five weeks. Those things are nice, but hardly enough to sustain the imagination through 25 hours of tedious driving. At least the weather was better. It rained gently most of the way through Kansas. The rain cooled things off for a change and definitely made the drive more comfortable.

We made it through Kansas City at rush hour without any problems. St. Louis was lousy again though. We pushed on to a KOA in southern Illinois. This campground was quieter than the one we had stayed at on the way in. The only downside was tenting under a powerful floodlight.

Tuesday's drive started better. However, we neared Knoxville late that afternoon, and knew that our luck was likely to run out. We went a bit out of the way for an early dinner at my all-time favorite pizza place. We stopped at Big Ed's Pizza in Oak Ridge. Big Ed's is right across from the nuclear facilities, and it must be all of the radiation that makes the pizza so good. On this occasion the place was empty. I suppose Tuesday at 4pm isn't exactly prime time for pizza restaurants. We enjoyed our dinner, but once again it didn't seem as wonderful as I remembered it. I suppose driving across the country doesn't do much to spur the appetite.

We finished dinner and drove through Knoxville at rush hour. We made it to the east side of town, and I thought we were home free. Then, traffic stopped ahead of us. Apparently, the three-lane highway narrowed to one because of construction. We found a traffic report on the radio, and discovered that I-40 was backed up 10 miles. In addition to the usual merging disaster, there were a handful of wrecks to add to the fun. To round out the whole mess, people were driving in the breakdown lane, and wrecking there, too. Emergency vehicles couldn't get through. Welcome back to driving in the southeast.

We got off the highway at the first exit and took a grand tour of eastern Tennessee. Most of the roads weren't on the map, so I navigated by instinct. We drove all over the place, but somehow ended up back on the highway near Newport. From there, the rest of the drive was smooth. We made it home shortly after dark. The dog was thrilled to see us. It was good to be home, though I wasn't terribly excited about it. We had experienced a great trip though. Some might say it was the trip of a lifetime. We'd enjoyed extended backpacking trips in the Colorado Rockies, Yellowstone, and the Tetons. Dayhiking and sightseeing in Yellowstone had been fun. Best of all, we had gotten the opportunity to spend three weekends with our friends. We had some wonderful memories, and the satisfaction of having experienced a great trip. Now though, it is time to rejoin the "real world". Christy has a new school year to prepare for, and I need to get serious about finding a job. We can only hope that we'll get to experience another summer adventure sometime in the future.

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