Gannett in a day? How hard could it be? On paper it looked like the perfect objective. I forget the stats now… but having done the route through Titcomb Basin through Gooseneck I thought the northern route through Wells Creek was likely the route of choice. Kevin and I put the plan in motion.
The first miles past the Green River Lakes, passing Square Top went as quickly as expected. Having attempted to run the Wind River Highline Trail a few years past I knew this section would go well and could make up the bulk of our mileage. We eyeballed the Tourist Creek route as we pass and somehow easily sneaked across the Green River near the base of Wells Creek without issue. Soon we were climbing Wells with high hopes and good spirits.
We knew that we would have to grapple with the mandatory “5.6” short climb sooner or later – but we were prepared to solo and felt more than competent soloing at the grade – especially with a pair of climbing shoes each in our pack. We quickly climbed our way up Wells Creek and soon found ourselves boxed in by a raging Wells Creek, with a stacked wall above us. We spied a piton fifty feet up and saw a fixed line up further. Although it didn’t exactly match the photos on summitpost.com, we felt this had to be the ‘pitch’ and suited up (aka, put on our climbing shoes).
Reaching the manky fixed piton was easy but then the climb got steepened significantly and after a few times of climbing up and down we regrouped on a small ledge and bemoaned our choice not to bring a rope. I didn’t feel comfortable climbing higher, into the unknown, without the security of a rope. Just out of reach was the fixed line we had spied from below. Despite our better judgement, we used my trekking poles to snag the line and Kevin was quickly batman-ing up the line to another ledge. Reaching the ledge he called down in horror when he found the fixed line was only attached to the anchor by a few threads of Black Diamond spectra. How this sling had not broken under Kevin’s weight is still a wonder (miracle?!) to me. In an alternate, perhaps more accurate, reality, I would have watched Kevin fall to his death in Wells Creek.
At this point we were more or less committed and I followed Kevin up the last meters to his ledge and headed up another ten meters or so to reach the top of the pitch. It felt like a full 50 meters or more – but was perhaps a long 40 meter pitch. We were foolish, lucky and now, committed. With the rock climbing behind us we spent the next mile staying high to avoid Scott Lake and loosing valuable time. The pitch had eaten up time… the long traverse had eaten up more time… and finally we found ourselves on the far side of Scott Lake, ready for the final climb up to Minor Glacier and the summit. The reality of a long day (and night?) in the mountains set in and we again regrouped, contemplating the route ahead.
Gannett looked so close, and the day yet-long. We moved onward and began the climb up Gannett’s massive NW face. The climbing was beautiful and felt as remote as I’ve ever felt in the Wind Rivers. We as if we were the only climbers in miles and soon we were standing on the highest point in Wyoming. A cherished moment – only broken by the reality that we had limited bivy gear and late afternoon had struck. We descended as fast as safety would allow – downclimbing past anchors, glissading down steep snowfields, finally grappling with the reality of a forced night in the mountains somewhere near the base of Minor Glacier. The reality wasn’t harsh – and I think that both Kevin and I secretly relished the idea of spending the night in such a remote quadrant with limited gear. And then it started to rain.
The night was long and wet. Punctuated only by lightning and an occasional move to outside of our small dripping boulder cave to stoke a dying fire. We were chilled, but far from the bone.
Weather cleared in the morning and we knew there was no way to descend Wells Creek without climbing or kayak gear. So we headed down Tourist Creek figuring it would go quickly on some sort of forgotten trail. No trail was found – only slipping, sliding, and cursing – down down down the delirious, bushwacking doom of a Hell-bound canyon.
At some point we escaped, re-crossed the Green River (with significantly more drama) and jogged our way back to the Green River Lakes. We didn’t do it in a day. But it we left feeling as if we had somehow gotten away with something. We didn’t cheat and we worked damn hard for it – but we definitely snuck by a couple of sketchy situations.
My takeaway – yes, Tourist Creek is slightly longer, has more vert, and a hell-of-a-lot more brush. But not having to deal with a long pitch of sketchy (loose) rock makes it probably worth it. There’s probably an easy way up Tourist. But we didn’t find it on the way down. And I don’t really anticipate going back to figure it out (as much as I’d like to!). If you want to do Gannett in a day – hitting it from Titcomb via those quality trails is probably the ticket. But prove me wrong!
