The Grand Traverse
- Henry Coppolillo
- Aug 4, 2020
- 9 min read
It’s no secret that I’m a skier first and a climber second, but that has never felt more true than this summer. For some reason the appeal of trying hard at the crag and becoming a more than mediocre rock climber just hasn’t been there and too often I’ve found myself just waiting for the snow to come back. Luckily the dog days of summer lend themselves better to big days in the alpine than pulling hard at the crag, which suits me just fine given my mediocre at best rock climbing abilities and big mountain-focused ambitions in the winter and spring months. The Grand Traverse is something I’ve had my eye on ever since I first climbed the Grand Teton a few years ago, so I was psyched to make it happen with my roommate Owen last weekend!
Although it’s sometimes just a pain in the ass, I generally enjoy the logistical complexity of big alpine objectives and the added strategic decisions it necessitates. Do you carry rock shoes, or leave them behind and commit to the rock pitches in your boots or approach shoes? Two seperate sleeping bags, or a single larger one for two people? Should you and your partner carry equally heavy packs, or divide it up into a light pack for the leader and a heavier one for the follower? There usually aren’t any right or wrong answers, it’s up to you to determine the best option based on the route, the conditions and what matters to you (i.e. being warmer at the belays with your big parka vs. moving faster without the extra weight).
The Grand Traverse is no exception to this rule. Over the course of 17 miles, the traverse crosses 11 named summits and gains roughly 13,400 vertical feet. The technical climbing isn’t difficult, with the hardest single pitch being around 5.8 IF you can stay on route (more on that later). The beautifully complex topography of the Tetons presents the real crux. Even with all the internet beta we could find we still got off route a number of times which I’d estimate cost us a total of 3-5 hours over the course of two days of climbing.
With a few small exceptions I think our gear selection was pretty dialed. We brought a single set of Totem cams from black to green, and then #1-3 Black Diamond C4s. A set of nuts and tricams and a half dozen alpine draws rounded out the rack. We packed the lightest single rope I own, a 8.7mm Mammut Serenity in 60 m length. Our rack selection was pretty spot on, but a lighter rope would have been nice considering I carried it on my back for the majority of the traverse. 60 meters is necessary for many of the rappels along the way, but I would have felt totally comfortable with a skinnier half/twin rope in the 7-8mm range, which we could have simply folded in half for added security when climbing if we wanted. We each carried a single lightweight ice axe and aluminum strap-on crampons to fit our approach shoes which we didn’t end up using but probably should have (more on that later). We did not bring rock shoes. Doing so would have allowed for marginally faster climbing on a few pitches of the North Ridge of the Grand, but that was only one relatively short section of a huge alpine endeavor so I don’t think the bulk and extra weight would have been worth it.
I had a 20 degree down sleeping bag and ¾ length foam pad. Owen had the same pad and a more minimalist Patagonia bivy bag and compensated for the lost insulation with a bigger puffy jacket. I should have done the same, as we were both plenty warm at our bivy and his pack was at least a few pounds lighter. Further adding to the weight I carried was my Sony A6300 with a 17-50mm lens. Bringing a camera is obviously a bunch of extra weight and bulk, but I rarely regret it, especially in a range as stunning as the Tetons. We had a JetBoil stove with enough fuel for one freeze dried dinner and to melt a small amount of snow (we were able to find enough running water on route that this wasn’t necessary). I found the Grand Traverse to be more aerobically intensive than a lot of more technically-demanding alpine routes, so I ate a lot more gels and blocks than I normally do. I supplemented that with my usual selection of candy bars and a block of Tillamook Extra Sharp cheddar cheese. A little heavy, but totally worth it! Something I tried this time was bringing a ziplock back with a bunch of Skratch Labs mix so I could have drink mix throughout the traverse. This was a game changer for me hydration wise and I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner!
We left the Lupine Meadows Trailhead a little before 4 am on July 31st and started making our way up the East Face of Teewinot. This initial 5500’ section of the traverse is pretty straightforward and never more than 4th class terrain so we wanted to get as much of it out of the way in the dark as we could. We made good time and summited Teewinot around 6:30. From there easy walking led to a diving-board like feature called Peak 11480, where we made four 20-ish meter rappels down to a 3rd and 4th class ridge leading to the East Prong. From there we rapped down to the Koven Col which was quite steep and snowy. Right after that we found a found a nice grassy ledge with running water where we took a break and admired our progress so far. From there the route traverses the East face of Mt. Owen which is snow covered for most of the year. We managed to stay low on the climber’s left side and avoid the snow so we didn’t have to take the time to put crampons on. There was one sketchy section when we were forced onto firm and very exposed snow when we probably should have just thrown on the spikes briefly, but we managed by chopping steps for our slippery dot rubber soles. When we hit the South ridge of Mt. Owen we dumped our packs and soloed the Koven Chimney to tag the top.
Getting from Mt. Owen to the start of the North Ridge of the Grand is widely considered the route finding crux of the Grand Traverse. From where we hit the ridge on Owen we descended to the skier’s left side of the ridge around a corner and made a short rappel to the base of a very distinctive feature known as Knight Rock. We climbed fun low-5th class rock up and around the right side, and then some more easy downclimbing led to the first of 3 or 4 rappels into the Gunsight Notch. A short low-5th scramble up and out of the Gunsight brought us to the base of an excellent 5.7 pitch. Some beta then points in the direction of another 5.6 pitch directly above this, but we were able to bypass it on the climber’s left and save a little time. From there more “5.fun” soloing took us back to the true ridge which we easily followed to the popular Grandstand bivy site. I was psyched to make it through this section without too much route finding drama, and even more psyched for the great looking climbing that lay ahead!
We opted for the “Italian Cracks” variation to the North Ridge. I think that calling this part of the mountain a “ridge” is somewhat inaccurate, and plenty of navigational challenges were encountered here as well. We caught up to and passed another two-man team within the first few pitches, and between the four of us we were able to work out where we were supposed to go and mostly stayed on route. The biggest blunder was committed by yours truly, when I prematurely traversed right onto a ledge that dead ended with a shitty hanging belay. We were swinging leads at that point and rather than backtrack, Owen just kept traversing right on what started out as moderate cracks but eventually culminated in a cruxy sequence of crimps and gastons that was by far the most difficult climbing we encountered. Owen styled it though and powered through what felt like 5.10 climbing in his approach shoes and heavy pack. It sure is nice to have a stronger climber on the other end of the rope to bail you out when you fuck up. Thanks and sorry dude!
After Owen’s heroic lead we were back on route and traversed climber’s right towards the upper West Face of the Grand Teton. We put the rope away and soloed mostly low 5th terrain and one grunty 5.7 chimney the final 500ish feet to the summit, arriving a little after 6 pm. This was a bit later than we had planned on, but it also meant that we had the summit all to ourselves, a rare thing on peaks as popular as the Grand! Aside from the one other team on the North Ridge we hadn’t seen anyone else all day, but that quickly changed after we left the summit. We passed several parties on the descent and arrived at the Lower Saddle to find all the best bivy platforms taken. We had talked about trying to knock out the Middle Teton that day as well, but it was already getting dark so we decided against it. We found a bivy site that was well protected from the wind but left something to be desired in the comfort department. After dozing on and off with rocks jutting into our backs we got up at 4:45 and packed up to keep climbing. A minor crisis occurred when Owen dropped one of his contacts in the dirt and was rendered blind as a bat for a few minutes while we searched for it. I eventually found it and rinsed it off, happy that my partner could see again and relieved that we didn’t have to bail for something so weird and random.
First up was the North Ridge of the Middle Teton. Finding the start of this route was a little cruxy (we traversed too high on the climber’s right side and had to rappel off of a gendarme back onto the true ridge, I think it’s better to come in low on the left side of the two towers which mark the start of the route). Once established on the ridge we found fun, easy climbing and simul-soloed to the summit. I could feel the previous day’s effort in my legs, and the long walk down the SW couloir and up the South Teton felt like a bit of a death march. From the South Teton it’s basically a straight shot along the ridge to the end of the traverse at Nez Perce, with a number of smaller features in between. First came the Ice Cream Cone, featuring a great 5.7 pitch. This would be the last really enjoyable 5th-class climbing. Everything that lay ahead was 4th and 3rd class terrain, which while not technically challenging is often very tedious and mentally exhausting, as the exposure and loose rock make for slow going and demand a high degree of focus.
After the Ice Cream Cone came Gilkey Tower, Spalding Peak and Cloudveil Dome. The route finding was for once fairly straightforward and none of the scrambling especially noteworthy, so I honestly don’t remember much about these parts of the traverse. From Cloudveil Dome we descended the East Face, bypassing the two typical rappel stations with some downclimbing in the 5.6-range skier’s left of the rap route. Then we made a long traverse towards Nez Perce along a loosely defined ledge system. We were both tired, sunburnt and thinking way too much about the beers waiting in my car, so after stashing our packs where we’d come back to them we left the normal route and started soloing straight up. The climbing was actually decently fun, but we forgot all about that when we popped out on the “summit” of some nameless gendarme with the top of the mountain still a few hundred feet above us. We downclimbed back to the standard route and then proceeded to depart from it and repeat the same process several more times in our impatience to tag the top and get moving downhill. Sometimes it’s better to just follow the cairns, which is eventually what we resigned ourselves to doing. Sitting on the summit, Owen declared that Nez Perce was “the worst mountain I’ve ever climbed,” and in my tired and frustrated state I emphatically agreed.
In what has become something of a tradition for me we ran most of the way down Garnet Canyon and soon we were sitting on the hood of my car admiring the beautiful skyline we had traced over the past two days. The Grand Traverse was without a doubt one of the more physically and mentally challenging objectives I’ve taken on in the mountains, so I’m really happy to have completed it with a great friend and partner and in good style as well. In addition to a lot of raw uphill fitness, it requires a great deal of navigation, judgement and overall “mountain sense,” all of which are abilities I strive to develop and improve as I take on bigger and more ambitious skiing and alpine climbing challenges. I definitely don’t feel like repeating the whole ordeal anytime soon, but I could see the Traverse serving as a good benchmark for my skills and fitness in the future. Pulling it off in a single push, without a rope someday would be pretty damn cool.
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