I was married October 14, 2018, to my fantastic partner, Danielle. We spent our honeymoon in the Canadian Rockies, where I was first deeply inspired to climb, and visit the high, remote peaks of the West. She could see how I was inspired and motivated by the high mountains of my youth, and she began to push me to get back into climbing, more so than I had in a few years, having laid those desires aside as I was caught in the supposed necessities of adult responsibilities.
As soon as I returned from my Wind River bachelor party backpacking trip, I had started scheming on another trip to that range. Initial plans involved some sort of a loop, as there are many possibilities for such a trip in that range. In my research, I found a route called the Wind River High Route, as put forth by Alan Dixon. (https://www.adventurealan.com/wind-river-high-route-guide/) I was inspired to attempt something so large, as a test, and a fulfillment of an desire present since working at Sierra Trading Post in Cody, Wyoming, helping a particular customer outfit for his attempt on thru hiking the Appalachian Trail. I had wanted to do a longer thru hike since he invited me to go along with him, and I always wondered where I would be if I would have gone with him instead of staying in Cody. I wanted to do something of a magnitude beyond a typical backpacking trip.
So I planned for months. I had everything organized, ready to go, and was patiently waiting for my scheduled departure date to roll around. I had taken time from work as soon as I knew I was going to attempt the route, and with my wife’s support and encouragement, was ready for the attempt. However, weeks before departure, I ran my first half marathon, with her, and injured the connective tissue sheets in my left ankle. The first days were pure misery. I could not walk more than a few steps without resting, as the pain shot up my leg. I thought, in those moments, that I had hurt myself so bad no trip would be possible.
As the days passed, my ankle began to feel better. The University of Utah Orthopedic Clinic verified I had not ruptured any tendons or done any large-scale damage, and indicated with physical therapy I would be fine, as long as I was proactive to keep from having such an injury happen again. I knew that the Wind River High Route would be risky, given this development. I began to work on a back up plan.
As I was thumbing through my favorite guidebook, Select Peaks of the Greater Yellowstone, by Thomas Turiano, I found a writeup of a summit attempt I made in the Beartooth Range of Castle Mountain in 2006. My partners and I were unsuccessful in that attempt, and I had inspiration. I could go back for another attempt, and as I looked at the maps, I decided to make a big loop through the Eastern Beartooths, with the goal of attempting three other summits as well. Sky Pilot Mountain, Beartooth Mountain, and Lonesome Mountain. The travel between these peaks formed the perfect basis for a trip of the duration and commitment with which I felt comfortable.
I had spent significant time in these areas when I lived in Cody. I would finish my shift at the gear store I worked at, have my gear ready to go, and take off for the trailheads. I went light and fast, covering twenty miles or more in a weekend, camping where I felt the desire, when the day was done. I knew that there were many options to get out of the mountains if something went wrong, from experience. I also put in the back of my mind that all the peaks were optional, and I could alter my route as necessary, given weather, injury, or desire. I aimed to develop the trip for the neighborhood of thirty miles, so I wouldn’t be stressing my body too much, and finalized the plans a week before my departure. Detailed planning information will be found elsewhere on this site.
My countdown for the trip was in single digit days as I laid my gear out and began to pack, repack, alter, subtract, and add to my load. Finally, I was content with my setup, and packed one last time, the night before my departure, where I would drive to the trailhead, camp in the car, and set off the last morning. My wife, in her typical supportiveness, stood by me as I ran around the house with my hair on fire, as is my method in preparing for these trips as the time creeps closer and closer. I laid my pack out the night before departure, ready to throw in the car in the early morning hours of my departure date, leaving her for a week, for the mountains I considered my home.