Tetons, Snowshoeing, and Barns
Note: This blog is gonna be a bit wordy. I wasn’t in a very conducive condition for picture taking along the hike, but enough happened to where, in order to tell the story, it’s gonna take some words; a bunch of’em.
My alarm went off early. “Surely I don’t need this much time to get to the barn before sunrise,” I thought to myself in my mind. Regardless, I got up and ready thinking that a more sensible me made these plans the evening prior and that I should trust that more sensible side of myself.
Staring down the stretch that led to the old cabin didn’t look too bad. Then, I took a few steps. The snow was a bit deeper on the trail than it was on the road. My snowshoes, I am sure they were helping me, though it was difficult to tell as I randomly sank to my knees. Regardless, I pressed on. Looking behind me at the Teton Range, and looking ahead of me at the eastern sky, I felt I had plenty of time.
The old homestead was just ahead. Good, because I was getting winded and was beginning to think I had too many socks on as my feet were getting cold. Strange, yeah, I know. You’d think more socks would equal more warmth however, I suspected that my circulation was being negatively impacted by my socks being too tight. No worries tho as the homestead was just up ahead. I’d grab a sunrise shot and be back to the vehicle and address the sock issue then. But wait… The homestead I was looking at, the one just up ahead, it didn’t look right. Was it the right one?
Looking further ahead, there was another homestead off near the tree line. Was that the one? “I sure hope not!” I argued to myself as the second homestead was a lot further off in the distance. I was already exhausted!
I stopped to take a breather and grab some water. My bottle was frozen shut! I worked on it for what had to have been two minutes straight before getting into it. The water was freezing to the inner walls of the bottle and sealing the lid to the bottle. I’d have to keep an eye on it. I sealed it back, clipped it back to my camera backpack, and off I went again this time passing up the first homestead and gambling on the second.
The second homestead kept disappearing in the distance as I moved up and down the gentle hills between there and myself. I’d press on, aiming towards a spot on the horizon where the homestead last was. Each time I’d lose sight of the barn, my anticipation, anxiety, worry, whatever you wanna call it, would grow.
I was worried I’d not make it in time. The snow, even with the snowshoes, had been a bit more of a challenge than I’d anticipated. I’d given myself enough time to get to the first homestead that I knew of, but would I have enough time to get to the second more distant one? I looked around at the surrounding lighting and then at the snow. I decided I could make it.
More water! I needed a drink and, again, the bottle was frozen shut. The closer I got to the second homestead, the more unsure I was about my decision to pass up the first shooting location and gamble on the second. My buddy, Ben Huseman, decided to take the safe bet and shoot the first. Was he going to be the only one to even get a shot this morning!? I’d feel like an idiot, an exhausted idiot, if I went all of the way to the second homestead and missed the sunrise. Regardless, I pressed on.
I lost count of the number of times I fell in the snow and almost didn’t get back up. My care factor was diminishing quickly. Suddenly, the shot I was after just didn’t seem too important. “Forget that!” I said to myself as I struggled to get to my feet for what felt like the 643rd time. I could now clearly see the barn that I was heading towards. It was now only about 500 yards away! I was getting pretty excited! Little did I know, that excitement would be short-lived.
The snow in the immediate vicinity of the homestead was the deepest I’d experienced on the hike in. Now, when my snowshoes would sink into the snow, there were no decent steps before sinking again. Now, I sunk up to my waist with every step. Getting the next shoe down was an exhausting chore! When I fell, there was nothing to catch myself with. I’d just watch as my hand, wrist, arm, and face went through the snow. Getting up was next to impossible with the amount of gear I was carrying. It’d been ok if it were a time or two, but it was more like every 10 yards. I was 500 yards from my goal and still not sure I’d make it in time as the sunrise was fast approaching. I’d not accounted for either passing up the first homestead and heading toward a second nor the snow being over 3’ deep! I guess I did need that much time to get to the barn after all.
Long story short, I did make it to the second homestead and made it before sunrise. Unfortunately, there must’ve been a cloud off over the horizon blocking the sun as to my North and South there was awesome color in the sky, To the West, just on top of the Teton Range, and in my composition, there was no color. To top it off, I’d sweat through my jacket. My backpack even froze to the outside of my jacket. This wasn’t good. I knew, standing around taking pictures, I’d get very cold. I set up my gear and did jumping jacks in place to stay warm as I waited for the day’s first light to hit the tip of Grand Teton Peak. My water froze shut again. This would reoccur every time I set it down; even if I stored it inside my coat against my body.
BTS on a beautiful, yet cold, morning in GTNP
The scene was starting to shape up nicely!
Sunrise at Grand Teton National Park Prints Available
I shot sunrise at the old homestead and was excited about the potential shots that I got, but more anxious to get back on the trail to the vehicle. Problem was, there was another shot that I wanted. I wanted a shot with sunlight on the barn. I’d have to wait for the sun to get a bit higher in the sky before the light would ever get close to reaching the barn. I was too cold and too wet to sit and wait for the barn. I had no jumping jacks left in me. I was exhausted and still had a few miles to go to get back to the vehicle. I packed up my gear.
Early morning at Grand Teton National Park
Well, I am pretty sure you can guess what happened next. The cloud that was off to the East earlier, blocking the early morning sunlight, had a friend and that friend moved out of the way throwing light onto the barn. Here I was, with all of my gear packed up and no longer in the physical location that once was. The barn was beautiful…! I just had to have a shot of it. I stopped and took one more shot.
The “First Homestead’s” Barn
Hiking back, I caught a glimpse of the first homestead off in the distance and thought I saw a composition I liked. Reluctantly, I veered from the comfortable trail that I had created on the way in and off into the deep snowy abyss. All I wanted to do was veer off the trail about 150 yards. This short 150 yards had me questioning my sanity. The deep snow was relentless. The worst part, I knew I was headed toward a composition where the lighting and conditions were all wrong. Even if I liked the image, I’d have to reshoot it one day in better conditions.
You know what that means; I’ll be back!
