Report from June 5th, 2023
We were about 70 mins into the ascent when the normally pine-y air of the tree’d Teton ridge line was invaded by a strong scent of Ale.
How odd, we thought. But there was no mistaking the semi-sweet aroma. And it would be another 10 to 20 mins before we clued into its blatantly obvious cause.
Come July, we head to New Zealand and more winter (touch wood), yet we’re still holding out for a final few laps in these glorious Teton Mountains. The only problem is, the previous week-plus has been a maddening game of cagey bluebird chased by tantrum-like thundershowers.
But where the low elevation greened up quickly under that blowing moisture, summits remained stubbornly snow-capped.
Seeing those pearly Teton teeth kept the itch alive through the waiting so that when yesterday’s weather window opened, we were frosty and oblivious to the punctured cans of beer leaking within our packs.
What follows is a photo essay on a lucky June session on north-facing Steve Baugh Bowl in the Teton Mountains. An ample slush pack was found at the end of a scenic two-hour stroll. And yes, we drank that pooled brew all the same.