Gannett Peak 2021
TL;DR
- Objective: Gannett Peak, Wyoming
- When: June 30-July 3, 2021
- Partners: Ty Dansie and Jeremy Jacobson
The Before:
Gannett Peak sits 13,804 feet in the middle of the Wind River Range in Wyoming. It’s the tallest peak in the state, sitting 35 feet above its more famous cousin over in the Teton Range. I was invited to climb Gannett by my friend/coworker Ty Dansie, who was organizing a trip sometime around the end of June/beginning of July (depending on the weather window). He had been to the area previously but hadn’t successfully reached the top.
There were two ways of reaching Gannett. One way was via the Titcomb Basin Trail, from the south which was shorter and less climbing but would require a longer summit day, including travel over Bonney Pass. Ty speculated the presence of falling trees on the trail that we would need to hurdle. The other way was on the Glacier Trail from the north, 24 miles to the base of the mountain, longer but with a shorter summit day. I preferred a shorter summit day, so I was in agreement with the plan.
Also there was 5,000 feet of elevation gain to get to the base.
Anyway I didn’t do much research until a week before. I knew it would take four days and there would be hella mosquitos. As I began reading more, I was reading past trip reports, including one post that declared Gannett the second hardest state high point after Denali. I found that a little intimidating; I had done Rainier and I found that difficult and I was in better shape at that point.
Some posts mentioned the need for ropes. The need for ropes would depend on the status of the bergschrund, a fancy term for a crevasse that is pulling away from the mountain. Normally the bergschrund would be manageable to cross via snow bridge, but since it had been so warm recently, we weren’t sure what to expect. Ty had called the ranger station for beta, and they mentioned that no one had summitted Gannett yet this year. They didn’t mention anything about the bergschrund. I pushed my team to bring a rope just in case. It would be sucky if we made it all the way up there to realize that the only thing we needed was a nylon rope that we had left at home.
In the end, the team was me, Ty, and Ty’s friend Jeremy. Ty and Jeremy had attempted Gannett the previous year via the Titcomb Basin route, but ended up turning back after realizing the amount of work required to summit after climbing up Bonney Pass.
The Climb
Day 1: Strava link
The intention was to leave Idaho Falls around 1pm (I had a noon meeting that I couldn’t miss). As we were beginning to leave town, I received a text that I forgot my boots and trekking poles. Jeremy also forgot his boots. So in reality we really weren’t on the road until 1:30 or so.
We ended up at the trailhead around 5:30pm. On the way to the trailhead we noticed dark clouds in the distance. Right as I mentioned that there probably wasn’t any lightning, a bolt hit the ground. Additionally, while the wind was moving towards the storm (which indicates the storm is moving the direction of the wind) I still felt like the clouds were coming towards us. There isn’t much that scares me in the backcountry as much as lightning.
We started the hike in around 6pm. Each of our packs weighed about 40 pounds or so. The plan was to make it as far as we could reasonably go this evening. Ultimately we wanted to make it over Arrow Pass, which would require completing a 3,000 foot climb over eight miles.
Pretty early on we crossed over Bomber Falls and continued on. As we continued, we ran into a group of three backpackers. They had completed the summit (they were probably the first to summit this year). They did it in three days, which they did not recommend (they mentioned their summit day ended up being 27 miles long!). They also mentioned that the mosquitos sucked (which they do, of course, and that is why they’re super annoying, but in this context, there are high numbers of them).
The trail turned into an endless array of switchbacks for a solid hour or so before the trail opened up into a meadow. At this scenery transition, there was a little brook that we ended up filling waters at, understanding that this would likely be dinner and breakfast water for the next two meals. Also this provided us the first little experience with how awful the mosquitos were going to be. I had never worn a mosquito net on my head before but I’m glad I brought one.
As we continued on in the meadow approaching the pass, it began to get dark. Headlamps came out. I saw Jeremy’s light in front of me and Ty’s behind me. It was provably good that it was dark in this section; it was good to not necessarily see how much more we had left to climb (although we were able to see the faint outline of the pass we were climbing to).
We eventually made it to the top of the pass. It was probably 10:30 at this point. We let out a woo and began to look for a good place to camp. Ten minutes later we settled on a spot and set up camp. Ty and Jeremy were sharing a lean-in tent while I brought my own. We each ate a various rendition of instant ramen before heading off to sleep.
Day 2: Strava link
We were in no hurry to wake up that morning. Last night was late and we needed the rest, especially with the looming alpine start awaiting us the next time the alarm went off. I woke up around 7:30 while I could hear my climbing partners beginning to stir shortly thereafter. After a breakfast of oatmeal and coffee (not combined, I’m not a weirdo) we packed up camp and were onward towards the mountain.
The plan of the day was to hike in another 14 or so miles to the summit of Gannett. Considering the impending alpine start, it probably would be good for us to make it there late-afternoon in order to gain some rest before the summit push.
I felt extremely crappy coming out of camp. Day 2 is normally the hardest day for me mentally but I was pretty low at this point. I felt like my leg was going to snap in half at points. I tried to adjust the weight distribution but it was not helping. We were only 11 miles into the trail and I felt like I could not hold on for the rest of the trail, the mountain, and the hike back out. I was struggling physically and my mind was not doing much better. At the first water stop I grabbed for my Tylenol and switched my shoes from my Merrill Bare Access’ to my La Sportiva hiking boots. Coming out of the water stop, I was beginning to feel much better. The boot swap seemed to have done the trick!
The trail dropped us into a flat full of alpine lakes. It was really pretty! It would be really cool to camp here if the mosquitos weren’t so awful in these parts. We were all wearing our mosquito nets at this point, and spraying deet on our clothes because the skeeters were trying to penetrate them. Pesky buggers, I wish their numbers were reduced by climate change instead of monarch butterflies. We also wondered how many mosquitos it would take to kill a human (not counting the diseases they carry like malaria or West Nile). Turns out between 200,000 to 2 million, according to this website.
The trail continued to dip down into a mountain valley, starting with switchbacks that overlooked a lake and then flattened out at the base of the valley. This area was where we found our first big river ford of the trip. All other water crossings at this point were easily crossable by rocks or fallen logs. I took my shoes off for this part. Jeremy had brought sandals for the occasion, which was smart, because the bottom of the river was not kind to my feet.
The trail opened up into a meadow which I guess is called Big Meadow, which was named after Anthony Big, who discovered it back in the 1800s (that’s probably wrong because I just made that factoid up, but it’s probably named that because it’s pretty large). Here, the sand-covered trail diverted multiple ways and pretty soon we were off-trail without really realizing it. We didn’t realize this until we reached the shore of the pond in the middle of the meadow. This forced us to blaze a path through a swampy meadow, being diverted by standing water in multiple places. This cost quite a bit of time. It was 1:30 at this point and we still had seven or so miles to go before we reached camp.
As we turned the corner out of the meadow, we finally saw our objective.
The mountain was gorgeous and magnificent. It was also still fairly far away, a distance that intimidated us and our sore bodies. The rests were becoming more frequent. I was beginning to grow impatient. I didn’t want to arrive to camp after dark only to wake up a couple hours later.
At this point I was beginning to do some mental gymnastics to determine if it would be a good idea to stop soon and rest up for the summit versus stopping at the base of the mountain. On one end, we would have more rest time and wouldn’t be dragging all of our pack (just the equipment needed for the summit) the last four miles of the trail. On the other end, it would require a longer summit day.
Looking at the rest of the group I figured the risk would be worth it. “Let’s find the next viable camp spot and stop there.” The others did not argue with that. It would be a bit of a risk making the summit day longer, and subsequently adding a few miles to the next two days, but if the goal was summiting the mountain, we needed the energy and the hike out if we made it to the top would be sixes.
We stopped and set up camp at a clearing that seemed to have manageable mosquitos. Ty and Jeremy went to bed around 7 and I stayed up a little longer to make dinner, crawling into bed around 9 and falling asleep around 10.
Day 3: Strava link
The alarm went off too early as it always does when we get an alpine start. We were quick out of camp, setting off at 1:30 after a quick breakfast.
The trail started off with a ford, which we found we could easily bypass by taking a detour and crossing lesser streams that flowed into the river. Jeremy’s map had these detour trails clearly shown, which allowed us to find the routes really easily and not get our feet wet. It was a little slow going to detour and get past the large confluence; at one point, Ty ended up going the wrong way on the trail. Eventually we got back on and we were good to go.
As we got closer to the base, large swaths of snow began to appear on the trail. There was no visible boot path nor one that looked a couple days old. We were unsure where the trail popped out on the other side, and we definitely lost trail a couple times, based on our GPS. Technology is so nice! We spooked a deer at one point and ended up following what we figured was its tracks, which didn’t help us much.
Eventually we ended up back on the trail, and began to see small flats carved out in the hillside that represented the camps that we were shooting for the day before. Realizing how far we had gone already this morning, we were happy we made the decision that we did.
It was beginning to get light out, which was good because the next obstacle was a massive boulder field. I was thankful not to be navigating the boulder field in the pitch black. I found some cairns that helped us find the way. We bounced around the field, finding the best rocks to lay our weight on and we hopped from rock to rock. We needed to remember to be cautious; one wrong move could end it all.
By the time we reached the base of Gannett, the sky was beginning to turn blue. We could easily see the features of the mountain. Jeremy had the standard route map that overlaid the suggested trail with a photo of the mountain, so looking between that and the mountain in front of us, it was easy to figure out where we needed to go.
There was a long section of scrambling up rocks and scree to start. I wanted to stay off the snow as long as possible; rocks were a little more predictable underfoot than soft snow. The route had us go through a snowfield that looked like Mexico from our vantage point. I suggested we go around Yucatan and up, as there looked to be a clearing of rock. Once we reached the top of the Mexico snowfield it would turn into snow travel.
Once up there we put our crampons on and wielded our ice axes. First impressions: the snow was fairly soft despite it being 6 am, a testament to how warm it has been. Also one of my crampons wasn’t fitting well, so at the next stop I took mine off and adjusted it.
Jeremy was leading this section, followed by me and Ty. The snow travel at this point was not difficult; we were traversing towards the couloir that housed the bergschrund. Once at the base we began trekking up. At this point of the season, the bergschrund was visible, but there was a large snow bridge that made the passage super easy.
The path lead to a rocky ridge at this point, which we scrambled for a good while. We noticed that there was a pathway carved in the snow made by he previous group, but we stuck on the rocks for as long as we could before we were forced to put our crampons back on. The scrambling was generally safe, although there were a couple places where on the left lead to shear drops a thousand feet below. This country was so cool!
At the end of the rocky portion of the ridge we were forced to put our crampons back on. We ventured a tad off of the immediate border between snow and rock because the snow was pretty unstable. We were postholing like mad at this point, but definitely better than misstepping and falling down to the right. If you failed to arrest, there would be a long drop waiting for you.
We hit a rock outcropping and after climbing up that, we were at the top! I looked for a register and found one, along with a sign with the mountain’s name and elevation. Many pictures were had. There was barely a breeze at the top, which made flag-flying very difficult.
After a half hour of celebration, it was time to make it down. I was mostly nervous for the couloir where the bergschrund was; it was so steep. There was also some dark clouds beginning to roll in. We ran into a pair of climbing groups. One of them made it to the top, while the other turned back due to the formidable clouds (we saw them while coming down). Jeremy lead most of the way and made a good boot track, especially on the bergschrund portion, which we passed at ease. After the bergschrund we began glissading down the mountain to the point where we didn’t need to travel on snow anymore.
The climb down always seems longer than the climb up, or at least you don’t remember how long it was at the time. That being said, the boulder field took much longer on the way down than up. The trail did too. It seemed to drag forever; it wasn’t until around 3:30 when we ended up back at camp, 14 hours after we had left.
After a half hour of packing and eating lunch, we were off again. The plan we agreed to was to essentially hike until dark and set up camp. We really wanted to minimize the amount of trail we needed to hike tomorrow, in order to give us a better chance to get back into Idaho Falls to watch the fireworks.
The hope was to hike past the switchbacks and camp near the alpine lakes. The trek was long but we trudged along as best we could. The Big Meadow was difficult in that I do not remember so much sand being there on our way in. Conversations ranged between family matters, what we are most disgusted by, and the upbringing of Giannis Antetokounmpo. We reached the switchbacks just before dark and figured that it was wise to bust it out and save tomorrow for a chiller finish. After grabbing water we began.
I lost the group but ended up finding Jeremy up-trail. He was going back because he lost his bear spray and was hoping it was at the last water stop still. While I had bear spray to loan, he mentioned it was from his dad, who had passed a couple months previously. I understood that it meant a lot to him. Unfortunately, he was unable to locate it.
The switchbacks were rough, especially on the back end of a 20-hour day, but we pulled through it and set up camp shortly after. Once dinner was cooked and eaten, we all crawled into our tents and passed out.
Day 4: Strava link
As far as theatrics, Day 4 was fairly absent of them. We woke up at 6:30 and headed out shortly after. The mosquitos were still awful, and as beautiful as it was, I was excited to be out of the alpine lakes region and over the pass. Once we hit the Arrow Pass, then it would be smooth-sailing downhill to the trailhead.
I had thought it would be about 12 miles to the car from our camp spot. It ended up being 13, which mentally screwed me up as we ended up at the car a half-hour later than I previously predicted.
On the trail back we ran into many groups of people heading into the Winds. It was a holiday weekend so I’d imagine there would be many groups heading back in there. One contingent was a NOLS group who were planning to spend the next 30 days in the Wind River backcountry. What an experience that would be!
We all made it to the car at 1:30. By some miracle, the sports drinks that Jeremy had brought were still decently cool, and the sugar and electrolytes in the Powerades were refreshing. Four days and 56 or so miles on the Wind River backcountry were great, but we were excited to sleep in our own beds that evening. I think it was safe to say that we underestimated the difficulty of the route, but regardless we were happy to have hit our objective and make it back to the car safely.
Also we easily made it back for the fireworks. Mission accomplished!
