Starting a five-day backpack in the Tetons during the 1987 western trip.

Grand Teton National Park, Wyoming

The Tetons

From a mind-blowing first visit in 1981 to canyon-to-canyon backpacks, a bear on the trail, alpine climbing with Ricky, and a Snake River canoe trip.

The first time I saw the Teton Range was in 1981, during the eight-week western trip Marty and I took after we were married. We had already driven across Canada and come down through Glacier National Park, where the hike to Avalanche Lake had completely opened my eyes to the scale and wildness of the western mountains.

When we reached Grand Teton National Park, the mountains seemed to rise almost straight out of the valley. I had never seen anything like them. At that point I was not yet deeply involved in hiking, backpacking, or climbing, so I mostly experienced the range from the roads, overlooks, campgrounds, and shorter trails. Even so, the Tetons stayed in my mind. I knew I wanted to return when I had the skills and time to explore them more seriously.

Three Weeks of Canyon-to-Canyon Backpacks

The 1987 western trip

By 1987, I had become a much more committed hiker and backpacker. I returned to the Tetons during my long western road trip and spent roughly three weeks doing a series of circuit backpacks. The basic plan was wonderfully simple: hike up one canyon, cross the high country, and come back down through another canyon.

That style of traveling let me see the park from the inside rather than just from the road. Each canyon had its own character, and every climb into the alpine zone opened another view of the range. I could carry several days of food, camp high, and then connect trails in ways that made each trip feel like a new expedition.

The photograph here was taken in 1987 at the beginning of a five-day backpack. It was my second trip to the Tetons, but my first time truly living in the backcountry there.

Tim Driskell carrying a backpack at the start of a five-day trip in Grand Teton National Park in 1987.
Starting a five-day backpack in Grand Teton National Park in 1987. Tap or click the photograph to open the full-size image.
The Tetons were one of the places where I learned how much more a national park reveals when you leave the road, carry everything you need, and stay long enough to see the landscape change around you.

The First Bear I Saw on a Trail

A lesson in attention and respect

One of my most memorable moments in the Tetons was the first time I encountered a bear while hiking on a trail. Until then, bears had mostly been something I read about in guidebooks, saw on warning signs, or imagined somewhere beyond the trees.

Seeing one in the same landscape I was walking through changed the feeling of the backcountry immediately. It was exciting, but it also made the place feel more serious and alive. I understood in a much more direct way that I was traveling through the bear’s home, not merely through a scenic hiking area.

I gave it space, stayed alert, and continued with a much greater respect for the wildlife around me. That first encounter became part of the education that later helped me travel more cautiously in grizzly country in places such as Glacier National Park and the Canadian Rockies.

High mountain scenery in Grand Teton National Park.
On the summit of Middle Teton in 1992. The Tetons were beautiful, but they were also wild country where every trail demanded awareness and respect, and the alpine climbing was incredible!

Returning in 1990

More time in the backcountry

I returned again in 1990 during another long western trip. By then, backpacking had become a major part of my life, and the Tetons were no longer simply an impressive mountain range I had once seen from below. They had become a place I knew through long days on foot, camps in the backcountry, steep passes, changing weather, and the satisfaction of linking canyons together.

Every return gave me another layer of understanding. The same peaks looked different from another drainage or in different light, and a route that had once seemed intimidating became an invitation to explore farther.

Backpacking in the Tetons during Tim Driskell's western travels.
Backpacking became the way I came to know the Tetons—not just as a skyline, but as a connected landscape of canyons, passes, lakes, and camps.

A Week of Climbing With Ricky

The 1992 trip

In 1992, Ricky and I spent about a week in the Tetons and did a great deal of climbing. By then, our western trip was centered heavily on rock climbing and alpine routes, and the Tetons gave us the chance to apply everything we had learned in a much bigger mountain environment.

We attempted the Grand Teton but were forced off by a storm. Turning around was disappointing, but it was the right decision. Mountain weather does not care how badly you want a summit, and one of the most important climbing skills is knowing when to retreat.

We also climbed Middle Teton and spent time high in the alpine zone scouting a route toward South Teton. We somehow worked out a way up and had a great day. The week was not about a single summit; it was a full stretch of climbing, route-finding, studying the peaks, adjusting plans, and simply enjoying being together in one of the great mountain ranges of North America.

Ricky and Tim scouting a route toward South Teton in 1992.
Ricky and me in the alpine zone in 1992, scouting a route toward South Teton. Middle Teton is nearby, and the Grand rises beyond.
A broad view of the high peaks of the Teton Range.
The Teton skyline that kept drawing me back—from the first visit in 1981 through backpacking and climbing trips in the years that followed.This was the summit of Middle Teton after an awesome day of climbing!

Canoeing the Snake River

The 1994 trip

In 1994, I returned with my canoe and obtained a permit to run a section of the Snake River. For scenery combined with mild whitewater, it was hard to beat. Floating beneath the Tetons offered an entirely different perspective from hiking or climbing.

The biggest challenge was my shuttle plan. Instead of hitchhiking, I used my bicycle. By the time I finished paddling, my body was already exhausted, but I still faced a long, windy, uphill ride back to the put-in.

It was the sort of plan that sounded efficient on paper and became much more demanding in reality. Still, the effort was worth it. The river gave me another way to experience a park I already loved.

Tim Driskell's Toyota and canoe during the 1994 western trip.
Traveling with the canoe in 1994 made it possible to add the Snake River to the long list of ways I had explored the Tetons.
Of all the national parks I have visited, Grand Teton will always be one of my favorites. It gave me my first great mountain skyline, weeks of backpacking, memorable wildlife encounters, alpine climbs with Ricky, and one exhausting but beautiful river trip.

The Tetons changed with every return because I changed. In 1981, I was simply amazed that mountains could look like that. In 1987 and 1990, I learned the range through long backpacking trips. In 1992, Ricky and I climbed, retreated from storms, found routes, and spent a week immersed in the alpine world. In 1994, I explored by canoe and then paid for my ambitious shuttle plan on a long uphill bicycle ride.

I am grateful for every one of those trips. Grand Teton National Park became much more than a beautiful place on a map. It became part of the story of how I learned to hike, backpack, climb, paddle, make decisions in wild country, and keep returning to places that still had more to teach me.

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