I felt as if we were in a car commercial. The commercial where the 4×4 is driving up a gravel path on a mountain cliff where civilization is just an afterthought, although the view wasn’t as pristine as in the commercial. There were large rivets on the road, wall to wall fur trees, and we may have been only going about 15 mph rather than 60 mph. We were, however, driving up a mountain in Grand Teton National Park. That’s how the day began. An early sunrise drive up a freakin’ mountain. When our vehicle finally stopped, we stepped out into the wet, foggy morning and took a huge breath of mountain air.

After a short hike from the Jeep, we soon came upon a clearing in the wood overlooking a miraculous lake. We being Tyler, Peter, Matt, and Me. This lake would be the magnificent Phelps Lake. The water was so blue it made you thirsty, and it looked as cold as winter on this July morning. The excitement grew within us nubies, and brought a smile to our guide and friend, Tyler. What was the day about to behold? In person, the view could change your whole outlook on life. Kinda like sky jumping with monkeys while tripping on acid off the coast in Costa Rica. Feeling euphoric, we luckily we ran across some fellow hikers, who were able to get a shot of all four of us in front the Rockies’ beauty before our adventure truly began.

We planned on taking the trail past Phelps Lake and down into Death Canyon. I was reassured that the “death” part was only to be considered ironic, as the trail was beaming with nature’s beautiful gift of life.

As predicted the hike was beautiful. Only the sound of nature tickled our ears. Water from a mountain stream flowed on our left, and then our right as the trail went up and down like a forever roller coaster. At the time, we were unaware how this majestic flow of water originated from a waterfall created by snow melt. We would soon be gazing upward at it’s power, and by the end of the day fearing for our lives as it rushed beneath us. Awe and innocence were the only things I could feel as the journey continued through the canyon.

Unfortunately, as life would have it, we yearned for something a little more dangerous than the beaten trail. Enter the insane idea of bushwhacking. Bushwhacking is forbidden and not recommended, but we were eighteen, young, and lacking wisdom. Looking to our right, or West for perspective, we decided to climb the summit of the mountain that hovered over us like a parent who just didn’t understand. The end goal was to view the sunset at the very top, something only movies or a book could provide the imagination. This, by far, would be one of the most naive and idiotic things I’ve done. It may also be one of the most rewarding and fulfilling. Weird how that works, right? The bushwhack began with an ode to the colorful Butch Miller and Luke Williams, followed by about an hour of thick brush that scraped every piece of flesh that was left bare below the knee. We were in shorts, it was July, but we would later regret this decision.

Eventually, we cleared the brush and entered a woody area just before we hit pure rock. Traveling in two’s, my friend Peter and I were riding the caboose, enjoying our time and still making loud noises to deter any sort of furry friends also known to currently be in the area. We soon collided with our leading partners, of which, were frozen stiff. “Tha hell?” was uttered, quickly followed by a “shhhhhhhsh”. “Tha hell?” was WHISPERED again. “MOOSE” shortly followed after. Now, paying attention, I looked forward, only to see a seven or eight foot hairy beast staring down at us. The animal’s eyes fixated on our position, the lead two starting moving slowly and sideways out of the area. This left left Peter and I still standing there and frozen. The moose, becoming more annoyed at our presence began to stomp the ground and snort, almost daring us to do something,… anything. I honestly can’t remember who spoke the words.

“We’ve got to move”.

One eye remained on the moose, the other searching for anything that may provide shelter from an attack. Then a realization. The ground we stood on was matted down, and warm. We had been standing in this beast’s bed. Slowly and side shuffling the FUCK out of there, we slowly came upon a rocky clearing, as sixty seconds seamed to take thirty minutes. Thankfully, and luckily the majestic animal disappeared into the wilderness possibly leaving my shorts moist with urine.

We should have turned back there and called it a day. But wait, as mentioned, we were eighteen, and we had defeated the moose! Nothing else could be as dangerous as that, plus we had a sunset to catch. The climb up was relatively easy for us. It was similar to tree climbing but instead of bark it was a razor sharp wind blown mountain. However, we were close friends, so teamwork and helping each other up the craggy earth was somewhat simple. We worked together similar to playing a game of pick-up basketball, in that, helping each other with communication and the small details came natural to us. We steadily rose in altitude and the end was near. We were close. It was then that I started to notice something. We were slowing down, a lot. I wasn’t necessarily tired, but with each step it became harder to move. Every step began taking every ounce of effort and strength I had, followed by a thirty second rest. Peter and Tyler were still moving, but Matt had fallen behind me, and was having the same issue. It was dreamlike. The same dream where you are punching zombies in the face with all your might, but barely effecting the creature. I was fighting and struggling to only move a few inches. At this pace, I wasn’t going to make the summit for the sunset, at this pace I wasn’t going to make another five feet. Matt and I decided to live with the disappointment of not seeing the sunset, or I guess you could say we decided to simply live another day. Peter and Tyler forged on.

It was getting dark fast, and fear began to tickle the back of my neck. The reality of traveling through bear country in the pitch black began to settle in. Peter and Tyler did reach the summit and had finally made it back to Matt and I. Desperately awaiting the description of the picturesque sunset they witnessed, I received more disappointment. A larger mountain, hovering over our summit, blocked what was to be our victory. No sunset, no reward, and the worst news of all just revealed, we only had one flashlight. 8 foot drops on crag rock was ahead, in almost pitch black.

It would have been slow going in the day, but with only a small beam of light and the moon we moved at a turtle’s pace. Blood was the only warmth being provided on our legs, and I’m sure our legs smelled like hot dogs with all the fixins’ on the fourth of July to the wildlife that surrounded us. When we finally reached the timber and were done with the sharp rocks, the four of us cheered mightily. The accomplishment of our feat was exhilarating. Our cheers were also able to assist in the frightening of any bears anxiously awaiting a midnight snack in the brush below. The thought was terrifying. The idea of walking aimlessly through four feet of mountain grass with a bear anxiously awaiting us. This is when the light appeared. Moving fast and upward the cliff. It’s luminescence was beaming towards us and we could faintly hear a voice as it grew closer to a parallel angle of our location.

“Hey!!!!” was shouted. Then again, “Hey!!!!” We responded with, “We’re ok!” We marveled at our accomplishment, and knew the end game was close. The next response was heard by all four us, and you could hear the glass shattering relating to our newborn confidence.

“No!! You’re not!”

Instantly we were fear stricken and our every sense was heightened. In unison we thought of bears among us,….maybe right next to us. Like drunken minstrels, we immediately began hooting, and yelling, moving quickly towards the voice of light. When we were within hearing distance of our unsung hero, the voice identified as a forest ranger. He then punctuality asked, “What the hell are you guys doing?” After a short explanation of our quest, witnessing the sunset at the top of a mountain, his reply was priceless. “Well, why did’t you just take the path?” The path, the path that we had missed, overlooked and overshot by about one hundred yards led directly to the top of our crag, and would have given us the desired outcome we had so desperately wanted. With little explanation, the ranger advised us of the danger in front of us. We now needed to cross and accompany him down the mountain. Cross,… as in cross the waterfall between us. Yes, the same waterfall we gazed upon earlier was now between us and safety. It was at least ten feet wide, and we promptly asked how in the hell are we supposes to do that? Jump ten feet across a waterfall in the pitch black? If we miss it was surely instant death. The ranger described an area close by consisting of fallen fur trees that provided a natural bridge across the waterfall. His only advice, always hold a branch above your waist, and if your feet fall through, don’t let go.

Are you fucking kidding me? It was the only way, except for having a midnight snack with bears.

All four of us within a short dick hair of each other, secured our footing on the fallen trees. We baby stepped and prayed. I was second in line, and we inched closer to the out reached hand of our rescuer when the scream was heard. It reminded me of the movie Predator, when instant horror hits the manly men when the beast is revealed. I turned to see my friend Peter, and half of my friend Matt. He had fallen, and his hands, his hands were clenched to a branch so tight, the white from his knuckles illuminated. The cries for help curdled my soul as we braced to assist him and help him back up to a firmer footing. The struggle was real, and my memory is black to this day of that moment. I don’t know how he did it. Toes dangling one hundred feet in the air over mountainous waterfall. Within seconds it was over. We made it. I don’t know how, but we made it.

The long walk down began, and we eventually made it to the Ranger Station. We had to explain ourselves again, along with almost dying, we were in serious trouble with the authorities. Thank God they let us go. I’d like to think that the adventure we just took was given sympathy by the authorities, and that they had actually admired and felt sorry for us. The truth is, I don’t think they wanted to file paperwork for our ass hattery at 2 AM. We still had miles of a hike back to the Jeep, in shorts, soaked from the waterfall, at a mere 32 degrees at 2 in the morning. They let us go.

When we finally arrived back at the vehicle, we drove over an hour to an eatery in Jackson. We ate like kings, and chugged hot chocolate. I remember my feet being so wrinkly from my wet boots that it looked like a character from The Amazing World of Gumball, and skin was literally falling off my feet. It was crazy, it was stupid, but man,…it was one of, if not the most awesome adventure of my life.