Les Grands Tetons

You have perhaps noticed my fascination with the Grand Tetons. They have reigned larger than actual size in my imagination since the first time I saw them, twenty years ago. As a francophile (a lover of French things), my first view of them caused me to exclaim "merde, they truly are Les Grands Tetons." These mountains rise to 13,000 feet, the tallest of which is the actual Grand (13,770 feet), and their peaks are often snow covered in June, so their outline is illuminated by reflective white. Does this image evoke breasts, especially if you were some 19th or 20th century trapper? My sex-on-the-brain seventeen year old eyes thought yes.

Though I grew up traveling around the east coast and midwest, and had even spent my junior year of high school on a student exchange in Belgium, that post graduation road trip introduced me to the west. I left Ohio with my two best friends, Sarah and Jenny, in my parent's rusted station wagon. The engine lasted until Grand Island, Nebraska, where it overheated and left us stranded a day while it recuperated at the local auto shop.

From there we continued west and north, until we eventually rounded that particular bend in the road and the Grand Tetons loomed above us, my first spectacular view of the Rocky Mountains. We hiked a day in the Tetons, then drove north into Yellowstone. Jellystone offered close encounters with bison who dwarfed the car when they bumped up against it, or when they wandered through camp, plus geysers, hot springs, and the Fire Hole River, where we swam in snow melt made comfortable where geothermal water flowed into it.

The friendship we'd had did not last much beyond the road trip - after we left the northern Rockies we headed south to the Grand Canyon, then into New Mexico to see the southern end of the range - and too many miles in the car in so short a time left cracks in the foundation of our relationship. I regret this, as I regret all the actions in my youth that lead to the suffering of myself or others.

On a positive note, I did discover two regions of the west that I fell in love with and made my home. Taos, Tetons, a long term love affair with the Rocky Mountains. Last Sunday I hiked in Grand Teton National Park, past Jenny Lake, beyond Hidden Falls and Inspiration Point into Cascade Canyon. From the Kudar, it's a half hour drive to the trailhead, and easy to pack for the hike: water, snacks, warm clothes in case of rain or snow and bear spray. I'm mentally prepared to use the spray in self-defense, but if I actually encountered a bear I think I'd freeze.

It was a delight to see other animals there, marmot, pika, porcupine, what I think was a badger, and a fox with her mouth full of bird, who passed me on the trail a foot away. The hike brought peace of mind, sore feet and felt like a sweet Sunday in my version of church. I walked, I reveled in the wildlife and beauty, and each step formed a prayer of gratitude and joy at the perfection of the moment.

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