Here’s a link to a ton of b-roll photos.  Hope you’re not on a dialup connection.

Summer is in it’s death spasms here and the trees’ chlorophyll has gone south leaving the leaves to their annual pyrotechnics.  The maples have a clear jump on the transformation with the aspens trailing a week or two behind.  Still, in the high country, aspens are far enough along to prompt Frank to reitterate the phrase “lemon-lime” about a dozen times on yesterday’s ride.  Here’s photos from a few recent rides.

Tomorrow night is the Utah Avalanche Center’s Fall Party at Black Diamond.  Admission covers burritos and Uinta Brewing beer and your dollars go to a great cause – keeping the UAC’s forecasts rolling through the winter.  As the UAC’s federal and state funding get chipped away with each new legislative season, fundraisers like this one have become essential for the UAC’s operation.

Along with music, food, and drink, there’ll be a live auction with tons of gear, services, and art donated by the SLC community. Here’s a woodcut of mine that’ll be up for grabs tomorrow:

See you there!

Sometime around midnight the sky began clouding over and what began as a cool, crisp night was warm and muggy when we started walking. Neither of us have spent much time in GTNP and so we had to study the trailhead map by headlamp just to get ourselves pointed the right direction.  Luckily the trail is well-signed and route-finding is simple.  By sunrise we were passing through the Moraines and after tanking up the camelbacks at the Lower Saddle, we set out to find a little notch between gullies that’d lead to the start of the Exum Ridge route to the top.

The weather was suspect.  It was partly overcast and snow flurries fell from the sky a few times as we climbed higher.  By 8am we were roping up but keeping an eye on the weather.  We simul-climbed all but the first moves of the Upper Exum and made it to the summit in about two hours after a few wrong turns.

The skies had temporarily cleared and we had the summit of the Grand Teton to ourselves, so we lingered for a bit before we began looking for the Owen Spaulding route down.

The well-worn holds on the scramble down were easy to follow and soon we’d downclimbed and rappelled back to the Lower Saddle. As we passed down the Moraines, clouds covered the peak and minutes later we heard the first boom of thunder.  Soon it was pouring rain and hail.

Man, we were glad we weren’t one of the handful of parties that we passed on the way up and who must’ve still been high on the mountain.  Hopefully everyone in those groups was alright.

A few miles later we passed Nic, who was heading up to camp for the night before attempting the summit.  Nic casually mentioned that he’d stashed a couple beers for us in the creek that we’d pass a few minutes before the trailhead.  Score!  Thanks Nic!

More photos:

An article I wrote, along with my photos, is published in the Powder Magazine that hit the news stands this week.  I was pretty psyched to get a copy in the mail.

Allison and I had last skied the chute about a month ago, when we were able to ski all the way to the parking lot.  Not so today.  It’s just about a 2500′ climb and we were able to ski down 1000′ of that before we hit the road.  

Grom stopped to watch us ski the apron then let us hop in the truck for a ride back to the base, making the “Alta Ski Lifts Company” name truthful even in August.

More photos:

About an hour in it began raining lightly.  We posted up under thick trees and wondered if we should keep climbing.  When it began raining a little harder, then a little harder still, we decided to pull the plug and head downhill. 

My glasses were fogging when it was still dry due to a steamy first day of August.  Then they were totally hosed once it got even wetter.  Slithering downhill looked like footage from Monet’s helmet cam.  I achieved a level of soaked-muddiness where the first thing I did when I got home was go to the backyard and hose off my sopping shoes, socks and shorts while still in them.  Minutes later trail-colored water was swirling around the bottom of the shower.