The Perimeter (aka “Til Death Do Us Part”)
*This post may end up being more of a spiritual reflection than a description of the route, but hey, that was sorta the point of the whole experience…
What “the Perimeter” route is to me:
o A love letter to the Tetons
o A recognition & thank you for all the ways in which we can play in the alpine
o A test of physical capabilities
o A humbling reminder that we are ultimately powerless despite all of our best efforts
o A search for an answer to a never-ending existential crisis
o A resounding why not to the persistent question of why
The entire loop was inspired by the Grand Teton Triathlon, more commonly known as “the Picnic.” Something that so perfectly encapsulates the Jackson culture of extreme athleticism, of masochism and pushing oneself to one’s limits, of never shying away from a physical challenge.
So then why did I do something different? How did I – a young mountaineer, a novice climber, a non-Jackson local – have the audacity to create my own route? That is what I am worried the pioneers and icons and legends of the Teton climbing community are thinking. Of course, they are not thinking about me at all. They are busy pursuing their own objectives. And that’s the whole point of the mountains - solitude, escape from the judgements of society, doing your own thing, walking to the beat of your own drum. Funny how I can’t help but fall back into caring what others think even as I am running away from it.
Maybe I was just scared of competing with the greatness of Jackson. With my idols and role models and the pro athletes and the covert beasts who are quiet about their epic sends and gnarly projects and insane accomplishments; that is the Teton climbing community. How could I be competing in the same arena as the pros? But how one plays in the glorious Tetons should not be judged or compared, because ultimately, we are all powerless in the mountains.
So maybe I wanted to feel different. Be called different. Creative.
I know I was looking forward to the isolation of the route, something you won’t find in Garnet Canyon this time of year. And the fact that there wasn’t any 4th or 5th class terrain brought me a peace of mind as my legs became wobbly towards the end of the day.
Hopefully, when all is said and done, this route was truly for myself. What felt right to me.
A question I have been thinking about a lot lately: do we do these sorts of things for ourselves? Or for prestige and ego? Or a little bit of both? Is the alpine a stage or a sanctuary? Why am I doing this? Why do I do any of the things I do?
Are us strange folk who venture into the mountains, who risk our lives for rock and snow, are we the most tortured or the most liberated? Do we have untrainable demons, or are we the enlightened ones? What constitutes addiction vs passion, obsession and dependence vs love and peace? Who am I without the mountains?
I’m not sure I will ever be able to decipher what dictates my strange and unpredictable decisions and goals. As I read more philosophy, dig deeper into research holes of psychology and neuroscience and primatology and evolutionary biology, I am desperately searching for evidence that there is some meaning, some cosmic purpose, some point to all this.
Does any of it matter? I so badly want to believe it does. I want to believe in some stream of life and consciousness that we are all flowing through, some reason why. When I am 16 hours into the route, and my stomach is betraying me, and my legs feel like jello, yet I feel an aura of peace and purpose, I know there must be something. I can feel it as I run my fingers through the wildflowers surrounding me in that big, open meadow. It must matter, right?
But maybe it doesn’t. I can accept that, too. Maybe nihilism is the most calming perspective to take on the existential crisis. But then I want to know what propels these feats of physical endurance, these supposedly meaningless challenges and objectives and expeditions. What motivates humans to push and grow and explore. Extending far past just the mountain community, to all the dreamers and doers. Why?
Why not?
I don’t really know anything. I’m 23 and stupid and clueless and can barely decide what to eat for breakfast. But I guess, simply put, the answer is always love. At the end of the day, love is all we have. Love for the present moment. Love for the next best decision. Love for my body. Love for each other. Love for the mountains. Love until death do us part.
Hence the alternative name of this silly, silly, nonsensical and non-technical route: Til death do us part. (Pun absolutely intended, considering we spent the day in Death Canyon).
The Route:
· Bike ~17 miles from Jackson to the Phelps Lake trail off Moose-Wilson Road
· Walk 0.7 miles to the edge of Phelps Lake
· Swim 1.5 miles along the north perimeter of Phelps Lake (staying along the edge)
· Walk ~30 miles around the entire edge of Death Canyon, past Static Peak, through Teton Canyon and the Alaska Basin, onto the Death Canyon Shelf and all the way back down the canyon to the lake
· Swim 2 miles along the south perimeter of Phelps Lake (I unfortunately did not complete the swim back… yet!)
· Walk .7 miles back to the road
· Bike ~17 miles back to Jackson on Moose-Wilson, past Teton Village, along the bike path (finishing out the loop)
Variations:
· I wanted it to be home-to-home. So rather than start in Jackson, I started by the north park entrance where I live, a few miles north of the village, and went up to Wilson and through town and past Moose onto the park road, completing the first 30 or so miles of the 35-mile route at the start.
· Considering it is called “the Perimeter”, it feels important to swim along the perimeter of Phelps Lake, starting on the north side, and swimming back on the south side.
· We tagged Albright and Static to increase the vertical elevation gain. Originally, we also wanted to tag Veiled Peak, but we did not have enough time, nor energy. It would have been cool, though. There is no reason to tag or not tag these peaks. Up to the discretion of the athlete.
· I did not finish the swim back! It got too dark, and I wanted my partner to be able to see me, given how sneaky tired I was. Although it was disappointing, I am proud of myself for listening to my body and prioritizing my safety and getting out.
These are a few possible variations. But of course, there are infinite variations, especially in the playground of the Tetons. Do as you please. The whole point was to make it your own, right? Your own spiritual journey. Your own adventure. Do it for yourself. Not for guidelines or glory or trying to keep up with the badass-ery and intensity of Jackson (which is a culture I do actually love most of the time). But this route was made for everyone’s personal battles, whether you’re fighting demons or searching for self-actualization.
Some highlights from our experience:
Massive strikes of bright heat lightning on the bike ride there
The clear, still water of Phelps Lake at sunrise, its smooth surface reflecting the canyon we would skirt the perimeter
The entire joyous swim, counting my strokes, hitting the halfway point, my partner standing on top of Phelps Rock and cheering me on
Scurrying up Albright and Static because we wanted to hit 7k vert (we hit 6.6k)
Pooping 5x (how much fiber was in those energy bars?!)
Napping in Teton Canyon, in the soft grass next to the peaceful stream with the perfect view (all was well for those 20 minutes)
The beautiful basins!
Zoning out and feeling wildly calm and peaceful and thus picking raspberries and thimbleberries on the last 3 miles back to the lake
Struggling to find our stashed bikes in the pitch black
The MOON, seeing it both at the start and end of the day