Courage is a Muscle - Part One of High Altitude Tales

CREDIT: Hannah Habermann

Exactly 100 years to the day after a woman named Eleanor Davis became the first recorded woman to ever climb the Grand Teton – a nearly 14,000 foot-tall mountain that’s the namesake for Grand Teton National Park – an all-female group of climbers is summiting the peak to celebrate her legacy. Hannah Habermann tagged along for the adventure.

Underneath the jagged peaks of the Tetons, a group of thirty or so women practice walking up and down steep rock slabs in sticky rubber shoes. We are in northwest Wyoming, with the blue waters of Jenny Lake sparkling below us – and we’re getting ready for a big adventure.

“As soon as I heard about this climb, I thought that sounds like something I should do,” says Dawn Rucker, a business consultant who lives in nearby Jackson.

Dawn’s wearing a floppy white bucket hat and has an infectious, “go-get-‘em” attitude. She’s learning the skills needed to climb the Grand Teton; climbing, rappelling and walking on steep terrain.

“I really do believe courage is like a muscle. And unless you push yourself to where you're uncomfortable, you don't get stronger,” says Dawn.

After a two-day training, the group will try to get to the top of the highest peak in the Tetons. This “Centennial Women’s Climb” is a celebration of Eleanor Davis, who climbed the Grand back in 1923 and is considered by many to be the first recorded woman to have reached the peak’s summit.

Dawn’s friend Ellen Houlihan joined her for the climb, all the way from North Carolina. Ellen wears a yellow bandana tucked under her pink baseball hat, and everything that comes out of her mouth is comedic gold. She has us all laughing in no time. Dawn and Ellen went to West Point together and are now life-long adventure partners.

“Dawn has this motto that once a year we should do something that gets our hearts pumping a little hard and maybe scares us a little bit. So this is that adventure for this year,” says Ellen.

ME, PT.1

Going up the Grand this year is something that scares me a little bit too, but for different reasons than you might think.

Before becoming a full-time reporter, I actually spent a decade working as a backpacking, canoeing, and rock climbing instructor throughout the U.S. and Canada.

I’ve logged months, if not years, of nights sleeping in a tent in all sorts of conditions, and I’ve climbed my way up rock faces all across the American West, all while helping others to learn and develop those skills for themselves too.

I’ve climbed the Grand twice in the last few years, and taught friends the skills to get to the top, and helped them get there too.

But for this trip, I’m along for the ride in a little bit of a different role than I’m used to, as a reporter, not a guide. I’m juggling a whole new set of questions like, “who should I talk to? What questions should I ask? How can I get my microphone to the summit?” That alone has my heart pumping, and then there’s my very personal reasons too. I’m trying hard to set aside these reasons so I can get my job done.

THE GROUP

The group of folks signed up for the climb runs the gambit of ages, backgrounds, and experiences in the mountains. Some people live in the area and some have come from all over the country to honor the legacy of women in mountaineering. A few have gone up the Grand before, but for some, it’s their first time ever even seeing the Tetons.

Nina Johal, who works at a social work clinic in Boise, is one of these people. She has wanted to come to the Tetons ever since she saw a picture of them in high school.

“I kind of got into climbing up to the highest point of wherever I am and always doing it low-key recklessly, so I’m here to learn how to not do that. I’m here to learn how to do it safely and get into this culture of climbing that I don’t know much about,” says Nina.

Lee Kolbe worked on Title IX initiatives in higher education and is now retired. She first climbed the Grand for her 50th birthday seventeen years ago.

“I’m hoping I can be as fearless today as I was then. I’m not so sure, I’m a little nervous, but we’ll see what happens,” Lee says.

Right from the get-go, the training is all about learning. But it’s also very playful. The vibe is definitively not stoic and people who’ve only just met each other cheer each other on. It helps make the climb feel way less daunting and way more achievable.

The guides running the training help to set the tone.

MORGAN 

Morgan McGlashon is a guide with Exum Mountain Guides. She’s wearing a white sun shirt and a brimmed hat with flowers all over it, and she has a way of talking that is both informative and engaging.

Morgan herself is no stranger to breaking glass ceilings in the mountains. At 19, she became the youngest woman to ski the Grand Teton and says going into the mountains with a group of all women is something special.

“It's very exciting and fun and powerful and important and sparkly and beautiful,” Morgan says.

Morgan is now in her late 20’s and helped organize this climb. She started working with Exum Mountain Guides a few winters ago and at the time, she was the youngest guide working for the company.

Morgan is also a close friend of mine from college, and it’s awesome to see her taking the lead.

“I think it is really exciting and important that Exum is doing this climb as a way to help get, and see, more women out in the mountains, and it’s also a really cool celebration of the Centennial,” says Morgan.

SEXISM IN THE MOUNTAINS - My Own Thoughts

Climbing is still certainly a very male-dominated sport but it also feels like in some ways, a lot has changed since Eleanor Davis’ climb in 1923. Even in the ten years that I’ve been climbing, I’ve seen more and more people climbing who aren’t just white men, and who aren’t just white women for that matter; there are climbers of color, Indigenous climbers, climbers from the LGBTQ+ community, and climbers from a much bigger range of socio-economic backgrounds.

I’ve also seen a big, and sometimes contested, push to change climbing route names that are sexist, racist, and just downright offensive .And from some members of the community, there has been an increased recognition of the Indigenous history and ongoing stewardship of the land that people recreate and climb on.

My own experiences in the mountains and in the world of climbing have been a mixed bag when it comes to sexism. I feel very fortunate to have had many supportive climbing partners and mentors of different gender identities, including men, and I’ve had so many positive experiences in the mountains where I’ve felt challenged, encouraged, and heard.

But, I’ve also had experiences where I’ve felt less-than, incompetent, or unnecessarily challenged, like my skills and knowledge were doubted despite my own experiences. 

INDIGENOUS PRESENCE

As a female climber, one thing that helps me keep that history in perspective is recognizing how little we know about the story of women climbing big mountains. 

Sure, Eleanor Davis was the first quote-unquote, recorded, woman to climb Grand Teton. But there are thousands of years of history that were not recorded by Europeans when Indigenous people, and Indigenous women, very likely climbed this peak. Teewinot is the name of one of the peaks in this range, a Shoshone word that means “many pinnacles,” and is understood by many to be the Shoshone name for the whole range.

Before white settlers came to the area in the late 1800’s, many different tribes moved in and out of these mountains, following game and gathering plants for food and medicine. ​​The earliest evidence of Indigenous people in the area dates back more than 10,000 years and new research shows that the Mountain Shoshone even built villages above treeline in nearby mountain ranges and lived there, even through the winter.

Lynnette Grey Bull, who is Northern Arapaho and Hunkpapa Lakota, says those connections continue to this day.

“This land, particularly Jackson and Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Park, was our ancestral homelands for the Dakota, Lakota, Eastern Shoshone, Northern Arapaho, Nez Perce and Flatheads and a whole plethora of other tribes. We all have ancestral ties here,” says Lynnette.

Grand Teton National Park currently recognizes 24 associated tribes with connection to the lands and resources of the area, including the Crow, Blackfeet, and Gros Ventre tribes.

One of the most profound examples of this connection is a place called the Enclosure. It is the second highest peak in the Tetons, after the Grand, and just a few feet from its summit is a horseshoe-shaped arrangement of flat rocks that have been placed on the edge and tilt up to the sky. The rocks are big. The structure is three feet high in points, and creates a circle around an area big enough for multiple people to sit in.

There is no way those slabs got that way all by themselves, and the structure predates any recorded Euro-American trip into the range. The first Euro-American account of the Enclosure dates back to 1872 and chronicles what’s considered by many to be the first “recorded” attempt to summit the Grand. A man named Nathanial Langford wrote this description of the landmark:

“While on the surrounding rocks, there is not a particle of dust or sand. The bottom of the enclosure is covered with a bed of minute particles of granite not larger than the grains of common sand that the elements have worn off from these vertical blocks until it is nearly a foot in depth. This attrition must have been going on for hundreds and perhaps, thousands of years, and it is the opinion of Mr. Langford that centuries have elapsed since the granite slabs were placed in the position in which they were found,” says Nathanial.

Valerie Gohlke is a public affairs officer at Grand Teton National Park. In an email, she wrote that, starting in the summer of 2024, guided companies like Exum Mountain Guides will no longer be able to take parties into the sacred site itself.

All this is to say, what really is a first ascent? What “proof” is needed and who gets to decide? Who gets to tell that story? And, do first ascents really even matter? It is definitely possible that the first people to stand on the summit of the Grand weren’t the members of an 1898 expedition, which is often referenced as the first official ascent of the peak. 

Instead, the “first ascent,” and many ascents after, may have been done by members of one of the many tribes that spent time in the area. And, it is also definitely possible that Eleanor Davis wasn’t the first woman to summit the peak either. But, at least for now, hers is the first story we have to share.

PANEL – ELEANOR DAVIS and IRENE BEARDSLEY

After we finish up our first day of our training, there’s another celebration of Eleanor Davis’ ascent happening in Jackson. People gather for a presentation and panel discussion to celebrate our Centennial Climb and the history of women mountaineering in the Tetons.

Exum Mountain Guide’s historian, Kimberly Guile, tells the audience that Eleanor Davis’ 1923 climb of the Grand Teton happened very early in the history of recorded climbs of the peak by Euro-Americans.

“This was not only the first recorded female ascent, but only the third party to summit and only the fourth recorded ascent of the peak,” says Kimberly.

Eleanor taught physical education at Colorado College and also served as the vice president of the Colorado Mountain Club. She joined a group of eight who were all invited to the Tetons by a man named Horace Albright.

“He was the superintendent of Yellowstone National Park, who wanted to attract more climbers and more attention to the Tetons in hopes that they too would become protected,” Kimberly says.

Along for the trip was Eleanor’s friend Albert Ellingwood, a prominent climber in the country at the time. Kimberly says entries from Albert’s diary describe the trip.

“They traveled by train and they stopped at the Great Salt Lake for a day, where they went swimming. They visited Old Faithful, and then they rode on the top of a supply train down to the Tetons. It was filled with oats, so they sat on top of the oats along with their baggage.”

Kimberly says that Eleanor climbed to the top of the Grand in sneakers, and that on the day, she summited with Albert. The six other men in their party turned around before the top, but not Eleanor.

“Climbing was a very male dominated sport at that time, but obviously she was capable and more than able to hold her own,” says Kimberly.

IRENE BEARDSLEY - Sometimes You Just Have to Cry

Local Teton climber Irene Beardsley, now in her late 80’s, started climbing in 1953 in college through the Stanford Alpine Club in California. She says her initial exposure to climbing through the club wasn’t the most supportive.

“They told us ‘Well, there were some women who were really good, but you're not so good.’ But I did start to lead and I climbed with women, that was good,” says Irene.

For the record, Irene was in fact, very good at climbing. She and her friend Sue Swedlund completed the first all-female ascent of the North Face of the Grand Teton in 1965. And get this, Irene climbed the mountain while pregnant with her second child.

For Irene, one of the best parts about climbing is simply, the people you’re with. Oftentimes the sport emphasizes the accomplishments of individuals, but for Irene, and from my experience too, it’s all about community.

“One of the things that I particularly like about the Tetons is friends and the way you feel about the people you share a rope with, it just was so wonderful,” says Irene. 

In 1957, Irene and her friend John Dietschy were the first to climb a challenging, seven-pitch route in the Tetons going up Disappointment Peak. She says she kept it together until a big storm rolled in.

“There's a big gap at the top where there's a very hard climb on the opposite face and you can get under that rock. We sat there. And I just sort of bawled because I was just, you know, I had been brave all through the climb,” Irene says. 

John later named the route in her honor, and Irene’s Arete is now one of the most popular rock climbs in the Tetons.

Irene’s story definitely feels relatable to me. I’ve certainly done my fair share of crying on rock climbs, and there was something about that line, “I had been brave all through the climb,” that really gets me. A reminder that we all often feel, well, pretty vulnerable.

Irene also worked as the first woman to ever guide for Exum Mountain Guides in the early 60’s. But it didn’t come with a lot of fanfare. 

Explaining, Historian Kimberly Guile says, “In 1963, Glenn was desperate for another guide to help Herb Schwedland with a group of nine climbers on Cube point. So reluctantly, he hired Irene as an assistant guide.”

Irene was only able to guide for the company that one time, and Kimberly says Exum didn’t hire its first full-time female guide for about another 20 years, after Glenn Exum had retired. 

“Glenn Exum was unfortunately very old fashioned and out of step, I would say, when it came to women. Very supportive of his male guides, he did not think women should guide,” says Kimberly.

GOING UP, PT.1 

Glenn Exum could have never imagined our Centennial Climb, a raucous group of female climbers and guides going up the Grand a hundred years after Eleanor Davis.

After the rigorous training, the big group splits in half and we head into the mountains to give the summit a shot.

Here’s the plan: the first group will walk up and camp on Saturday, then attempt to summit on Sunday, exactly 100 years to the day of Davis’ summit in 1923. The second group will walk up and camp on the actual anniversary, then make a bid for the top of the peak the following day.

And as much as I think summiting on the actual anniversary would be an awesome full circle moment, I opt for group two.

The reason why is both simple and complex. The short answer is that the weather forecast for Group One’s summit-attempt doesn’t look so good.

ACCIDENT/CLIMBING AS PART OF THE HEALING PROCESS

The long answer is that a few summers ago, an accident in the mountains totally changed my life. Someone I knew died in the mountains, and I witnessed it. My relationship to being outside completely changed after that. 

Something that once felt so beautiful and natural for me, being in the mountains, became saturated with fear and anxiety. Where I’d once been able to run, I could barely even crawl. I became a different person.

When I first heard about the Centennial Climb, months before the climb’s scheduled date, I’d wanted to go but I was also really nervous. I’d traded my weeks camping and guiding for chasing stories around the state as a reporter, and being high up on the Grand felt incredibly nerve-wracking. But I also knew it was an opportunity to continue to heal my fear of dying in the mountains. It was an opportunity to be brave and push myself, to look my fear in the face and keep climbing.

So, I decided to go for it.

GOING UP, PT.2

On the first day the group hikes more than six miles up a steep trail and gains almost 5,000 feet in elevation. My legs burn! That night, we camp at a rocky spot known as the Lower Saddle which is about 2,000 vertical feet below the summit and well above the treeline.

A brief storm passes over, then the group gathers around to make a game plan for the next morning. Exum guide Jessica Baker points out the path the group will try to take up to the summit the next morning.

“That's where you start into the famous belly crawl, belly roll, owen chimneys, and then up into the sergeant’s chimneys and then scrambling the rest of the way to the summit,” says Jessica.

There’s some weather in the forecast so Jessica emphasizes the need for managing expectations and encourages the climbers to check in with where they’re at throughout the climb.

“Ultimately, we each have an effect on the group. And so if you're feeling really poor by the time you get to that black dike, or you're just like, ‘this is not for me today,’ then let us know because that is the point where we can actually turn you around, send you back to this hut, and you can get all cozy and go back to sleep without us having to return with you,” Jessica says.

Jessica’s coaching feels very different from some others in mountaineering where there’s a hyper-focus on the summit, a “get-to-the-top at all costs” mentality. Jessica says it’s more about the journey, and doing it with style.

“We’re on an adventure together. We're going to work from Mother Nature, and we're going to work with how we're feeling, and we're going to work with our safety protocols and do the right thing. That's ultimately what we're aiming for,” says Jessica.

Jessica’s leadership style puts me at ease and I know I’m in good company, with people who are smart and intentional, and making the best decisions possible. That night, I sleep soundly.

GOING UP, PT.3

The next morning, I wake up in the dark and roll out of the tent to a sky full of stars. 

The group starts hiking well before sunrise, navigating up steep slabs and rocky ramps. It’s definitely not easy walking. As we go up, the air feels thinner and thinner.

After about an hour of hiking, we tie into ropes to tackle some of the most technical parts of the route. First, the belly roll: hoist yourself up, on top of, and around a big detached rock with thousands of feet of open air below. The exposure is definitely no joke!

Exum guide Morgan McGlashon helps the group navigate the obstacle.

“Wanna, I’m gonna bump up ahead so I’ll go below you, so when the rope comes tight, you can say, ‘That’s me, Morgan!’ And even if you can’t hear me, which you might not be able to, go ahead and climb. Sound good?” asks Morgan.

Wanna Johansson gets ready to start climbing right in front of me. She’s preparing for the belly roll, and then the aptly named “crawl.” It’s an exposed, 18-inch-wide ledge under an overhang that requires some very strategic scooting. 

As we wait, I ask her, “Wanna, how are you feeling?”

“Good, How are you feeling?” says Wanna. 

“Good! How was the morning part?” I ask.

“Pretty great,” Wanna says.

Wanna was born in the Philippines and now works on a farm in Jackson. She has a young daughter and was able to come on the climb thanks to a scholarship. She says, as a woman of color, she knows she’s helping break down barriers.

“This stuff is rewriting the narrative. We can rewrite the story and just be here,” says Wanna.

Talking to Wanna reminds me of one of my favorite things about being in the mountains, how it helps bring people together, how we get to learn from each other and share experiences in beautiful places.

For what feels like the first time in a long while, I’m just here, listening, breathing, and flowing, moving through the mountains. Feeling so rooted in the present feels restorative. I’m not dwelling on what happened in the past or worrying about what might happen in the future. I’m just here, and that feels like home.

THE SUMMIT

While not everyone chooses to go all the way to the top, a group reaches the summit just before 8:00am. And I’m right there with them, thankful that no storms are on the horizon, happy and carried along by the strength and care of the people around me. 

There’s lots of laughing and hugging. We do something extra playful, we dab our faces with glitter in celebration of a summit full of women. A bed of soft clouds covers the valley below, and the blue sky above feels enormous. 

Paige MacLeaod is at the top with me, taking it all in.

“I wasn't sure this morning, I was not sure! How am I feeling now? Kind of in awe, in awe,” says Paige.

Paige takes Wanna’s picture on the summit. Wanna stands tall with her arms out wide and a huge grin on her face, she’s radiant.

“I just finished crying and there could be more tears. I feel just super grateful to be here, it's a magic place,” says Wanna.

On the outside I’m trying to keep it together and look professional, but the truth is, I’m right there with her. In that moment, it’s a million things, both infinite and in the palm of my hands. There is loss and love, grief and hope, change and belief.

Healing is never a straight line, and I know there are more peaks, and valleys, in my future. But for now, I am here, the morning sun on my face and the world bright around me. 

THE SUMMIT IS HOME, Final Reflections

After about half an hour on the summit of the Grand, we head back down to where we’d camped the night before.

Back at the Lower Saddle, Wanna says the whole experience felt deeply cathartic. 

“Honestly, I think I left a lot up there. I was allowed to leave some stuff up there that I've been carrying,” says Wanna.

She’s right, climbing is both about the lessons you take home with you, and also the things you leave behind. For me, I’m leaving behind some fears and self-doubts, and as much as I can, I’m trying to leave behind some of the walls I’ve built to keep my grief in. 

CREDIT:Hannah Habermann

“There was a kind of a dissolution of lines between being separate. And you know, it feels very much like we all had to move as one being up this amazing being,” says Wanna.

I’m trying to trust that I don’t have to be alone in my grief, that I’m not the only one who’s cried in the mountains, tears that have been both happy and sad.

When I see the Grand now, I’m reminded that I’m part of something much bigger than myself. I am reminded that there’s this incredible community of women stretching back into the past who love the mountains, who love adventure and are here for all of it. They are here for the healing power of the wild, for the summits and the sadness, and for everything in between.

And that? That’s something to celebrate.

That was Hannah Habermann. To see photos of Hannah’s trek up the Grand, visit us at our website…wyoming public media dot org. Editing, production and sound design by me, Melodie Edwards.  Our assistant producer is McKenna Lipson. Our digital producer is Ryan Kelley. Our theme song is by Screen Door Porch. 

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