Kayaking Tetons July 2019

Back in spring Scott Emery and I decided to do an REI kayak trip (with a little hiking) on Jackson Lake, foot of Mt. Moran and Mt. Bivouac. We flew via Salt Lake City, arrived in Jackson Hole Friday afternoon, July 26, walked around town for a while, had dinner and went to bed early. We met the other 11 people in the group and two of the three guides Saturday morning, put our luggage into the (huge) dry bags they provided, signed the release forms, and loaded onto the bus, which took us, by way of the Teton National Park visitor center, to the boat landing, where we had a safety talk and loaded into the kayaks. Kayak experience varied among the 12 members of the group; two had never been in one before, and at least 3 others had as much experience as Scott. Consequently, the 7 ½ mile trip across the lake to Grassy Island, our home for the next two nights, took 4 hours (plus a 45 minute stop on Elk Island, about halfway, for lunch. The lake was calm for most of the trip – a little wind for about an hour but not too much chop. The mountains in front of us were spectacular – and remained a focus for 4 days. Left-right: Michael & Marissa, Scott, Kate & Dorothy, Roy, Michael, me, Sarah and Sally Jo, Myles with the V sign; kneeling, Joe & Colin, lying down, Kelby and Molly. We reached camp about 4:30, were given a tour, including pointing out the flat level spaces for tents and the sheltered spot where “groovy,” the field toilet, was set up, with a lovely view of Mt. Moran across the lake. Scott and I selected a spot at the periphery of the main group, set up our tent, returned to the kitchen / group area for snacks at 5 (corn chips and a raw onion / tomato dip I avoided), followed by dinner (chili with elk sausage and a nice salad, followed by watermelon for dessert). Everyone was tenuously getting to know each other, a process that continued for the full four days. Our fellow campers included Sarah and Sally Jo (both traveling alone), Kate and Dorothy (Dorothy is an artist who does work inspired by native American petroglyphs), father and son pairs Roy and Michael, Joe and Colin, and a married couople, Michael (retired nuclear engineer) and Marisa (still employed project manager) – both avid bow hunters (elk) and general outdoors types. Guides Molly, Myles, and tour leader Kelby. Before dinner Scott and I took some spectacular photos of the clouds building up over Mt. Moran and Mt. Bivouac (right), to the west (the direction from which weather usually comes). After dinner I was brushing my teeth out behind our tent when I felt the first drops of rain. I finished, went back to the kitchen area to put my toothpaste back in the “bear football” for safe-keeping. By that time, the few drops had turned into a driving rain storm, yellow light (like pre-tornado in the Midwest), at least 30 mile an hour wind (fortunately mostly absorbed by the trees before it reached the tent area). I scurried back to my tent, already half soaked. Scott and I lay there on our sleeping pads for a while as it slowly grew dark, realized it wasn’t going to quit soon so crawled into our sleeping bags and went to sleep. I awoke the next morning in time for a spectacular sunrise photo from the beach east of our tent. Scott got up just in time to see the last of this view, and joined me on the west-facing beach next to the kitchen area, where we took several photos of the sunrise colors on the mountains, including this photo of Mt. Moran, reflected in the lake: A very promising sight. Coffee was (finally!) ready at 7:30, with some melon slices, granola, and yogurt to hold us until breakfast was ready at 8: a blend of fried potatoes and bacon with fried eggs on top. After breakfast and clean-up, we assembled at the kayaks for a trip to the end of Bearpaw Bay, for a hike to Bearpaw and Trapper Lakes, a total hike of about 5 miles, with a few hundred feet of elevation gain. On the way we paddled through a small bay, protected by a small island just south of Grassy Island. We played on the glassy surface of this little bay for an hour or so before paddling on to the trailhead, while Molly took pictures of us paddling around. Scott and me in front of Mt. Moran The hike up to Bearpaw and Trapper lake was relatively easy – unmaintained trail half of the way, but with a group of 15 hikers every week, it is a pretty decent trail. We had lunch at Bearpaw Lake, then hiked on up to Trapper Lake, which features an active beaver dam just above the lake. On the way back, as we approached the end of the sheltered little bay, a wind came up and rather quickly whipped up some 12-14 inch waves, which unfortunately paralleled the route back to Grassy Island. These are the most dangerous waves, especially for inexperienced paddlers, but everyone, including the two novice paddlers, handled them well, although I took a couple of bucket-sized waves in my lap, totally drenching my hiking pants. Fortunately they are nylon and dry quickly. Scott and I went all-out as soon as we emerged from the bay, since powered motion is the best way to deal with these waves. Everyone agreed (after it was over) that the crossing was fun, in spite of getting wet. We had another great dinner that night and stayed up talking and enjoying the changing moods of the mountains until almost dark – this time not chased off to bed by a storm, although there were some ominous-looking clouds gathering over the mountain, along with some interesting rumbles of thunder, amplified by the canyons. I haven’t mentioned the irony that “Grassy Island,” named after a fire when it truly was grassy, is densely forested with virtually no grass. The following morning furnished some spectacular sunrise photos. I was quite taken with the pattern of colors on the dimpled ripples (above). This pattern weakened but was replaced by a lovely combination of colored clouds, reflected in the rippling water (next page). Since we were scheduled to spend only two nights on Grassy Island, today was a moving day. We packed up our tents and gear right after breakfast, and loaded them onto the big cumbersome blue pontoon boat for the trip to the next camp site. Everyone pitches in to help load and unload the boat – otherwise we don’t do much. The guides have dinner preparation and cleanup organized in a way that we would probably be more in the way than helpful. The changing moods of the two mountains across the bay were endlessly entertaining; everyone took several pictures of each. Here and are pictures in the morning light of Mt. Moran (right) and Mt. Bivouac (next page). After loading up, we climbed into the kayaks for a paddle across Moran Bay to the foot of the saddle that connects Mt. Moran with Mt. Bivouac. There we hiked up a steep trail to a lovely viewpoint with a view of the lake – unfortunately I did not carry my iPhone so don’t have a picture. On the way down, the guides played a trick, planting a bit of soggy Cliff Bar and telling everyone it is an example of bear poop. I was pretty sure it was a gag even before one of them picked up a piece of it and ate it, because it was pale yellowish tan, no berries in it, not at all the right shape, but I kept silence. After each guide took a bite of it, a couple of the other guests took the dare – much to the disgust of the others. I didn’t know it was a Cliff Bar (which has wheat in it) but I was sure it wasn’t a Kind bar, so I refrained. Again, sorry, no camera, so no pictures. On both of these hikes I had some great conversations with Myles, who has taken a couple of Cognitive Science courses and is quite interested in it. He didn’t think he is smart enough to actually major in any of the related fields but Scott and I managed to convince him that anyone who understands it well enough to be interested in it probably has the ability to actually do it. We climbed back into the kayaks for a 6 mile paddle to our next camp site. As we passed Grassy Island, clouds were seriously gathering. We felt a few rain drops on and off – fortunately the wind didn’t come up again. We stopped about halfway for a welcome break; I thought about putting on my rain pants, but unfortunately did not do it. We hadn’t paddled 20 minutes from the rest stop before it started raining, not very hard but constantly. As we reached the stretch of open water (Spaulding Bay), the wind came up – fortunately not too strong, and we were paddling slantwise across the waves, so it wasn’t at all difficult, but by now I was getting quite wet. By the time we reached our camp site, I was actually cold; had to put on both fleece and jacket in order to avoid hypothermia. Grand Teton on left, Mt. Moran on the right. The new camp afforded a lovely panoramic view ranging from Grand Teton to Mt. Bivouac. The clouds kept changing in ways that invited repeated photos; one of the moods is shown at the bottom of the previous page. Below: Grand Teton, morning light Scott and I hustled to put up our tent, but the floor still got wet before we could get the rain fly on. Ironically, the rain stopped just after we got the tent up; the sun came up and I went down to the rocky beach to warm up (and dry out) in the sunlight, while basking in the view as well as the sun, and photographing the changing moods of the mountain. I warmed up enough to take off most of my layers pretty quickly, but it took over an hour for my pants to dry. I had brought four cans of pinot noir, so I shared one with Scott before and during dinner. They grilled excellent pork steaks and served them with rice and salad – fortunately Kelby realized just as he was serving me that he hadn’t checked the ingredients on the flavor packet for the rice. He checked, it did include wheat, so he gave me extra salad (and, later, 1/3 of an extra pork steak). It was his only slipup – and he caught it before damage was done. (That small a trace might not have been a problem – but again, it might have.) That night it started thunder and lightning about the time we were going to sleep, then a real storm came in around midnight, complete with hail drumming on our tent, and another light rain around 2 or 3 am. I was seriously wondering if we would do the final float trip down the Snake River or not – but by the time we got up for the sunrise, the sky had cleared; the entire day was quite beautiful. After breakfast we packed up again, and paddled the short way to South Landing and the end of our paddling. We then took a bus to a put-in spot for a leisurely float down a placid stretch of the Snake River, with spectacular views of the entire Teton Range – and a couple of great sightings of bald eagles. Binoculars were useful; this was the only time I wished I had brought my Canon with its telephoto lens. On the bus ride, Scott and I also spotted a couple of huge sandhill cranes riding the thermals up over a ridge – the only time I have ever seen them. The float down the river was nice; a chance to talk more with Molly, who I really enjoy, and with some of the other guests. The placid calm was a bit of a come-down from all the paddling, but it was a nice, mellow float. At the takeout, everyone was quite sad about the end of the trip. Kelby was kind enough to drop Scott and me, along with Michael and Marisa, off at the airport on the way back to Jackson Hole, saving us the difficulty of the scramble to get something to eat and find an Uber or a cab back to the airport. I washed up and changed into clean and dry clothes in a Men’s Room, and Scott and I found a place to hang out with a good view of the mountains. I thought I’d begin reading a book I brought along, but after one chapter realized I was too wasted to focus on it. All in all it was a great trip, great companionship. I’m really glad I went.