Voices in the Wilderness

By Briana Whitehead
Reader Contributor

It was a perfect July in Montana. We had just gotten married at Legacy Bike Park near Kalispell, Mont., and we were ready to start our mini-honeymoon in the Wind River Range of western Wyoming. We felt refreshed and ready for adventure.

Starting at Elkhart Trailhead, we stamped out a quick 17 miles into Titcomb Basin. We made camp and stared up at the 30%+ Bonney Pass, where we’d be climbing at 3:30 a.m. the next morning. The basin was windy, causing small whitecaps to rush across the lake in the opposite direction of flow. Between the waves and the waterfall, we fell asleep to the sounds of a soft ocean.

I awoke to Drew rocking my shoulder back and forth, asking me where my phone was. I sat straight up and fumbled around in the bottom of my bag. It had been going off for 10 minutes — the clock read 3:10 a.m.

We made instant coffee, chugged and grabbed the drawstring packs that we had put together six hours prior, each strapped with an ice ax. Although the Milky Way was bright, we slapped headlamps to our foreheads in order to avoid the meandering glacial melt and mosaic wetlands ahead of us before the landscape transitioned into firm snow. 

Briana Whitehead trekking across a glacial landscape. Courtesy photo.

Bonney Pass was a steep boot pack in the dark. We stopped at the first roll and cramponed up before it transitioned to a 30%+ slope. This is where we found our first little lonely abandoned trekking pole melting out of the snow.

The sunrise was cresting the horizon as we hit the saddle at 5:20 a.m., illuminating the vast Dinwoody Glacier, which we planned to traverse. While the sun rose, we glissaded 1,000 feet down onto Dinwoody. Scampering across the glacier, I looked up at Gannett Peak and felt my familiar butterflies of excitement, adventure and the need for speed.

A peanut butter and jelly sandwich Drew had made a few days before served as breakfast before we tackled the next climb up Gooseneck Pinnacle. To our surprise, we located another and then yet another abandoned trekking pole, putting us at plus-three trekking poles so far for the day.

The only obstacle I was worried about on this summit attempt was a seasonal bergschrund (“snow bridge”). Fortunately, there was still enough snow that the structure had yet to form, and we easily moved past it. The sun was still low, casting a warm glow on the spire and allowing us to finish the climb in T-shirts by 7:20 a.m.

We took our sweet time on the summit (13,810 feet), taking in the views, eating snacks and even taking a fully nude photo of the two of us embracing. You know — newlywed stuff.

The snow continued to warm, turning to corn, which meant it was time to glissade back down. We traveled 2,000 feet down, passing a father and his two children. Each of the kids adopted one of our found trekking poles, putting us back to a single homeless trekking pole. Once across Dinwoody Glacier, the hot, steep bootpack back up to Bonney Pass began. Once on top, it was time for another happy glissade back down to Titcomb Basin, where we washed off in the lake and crawled into our tent for a well-deserved nap.

Over the next few days, we slowly made our way out of the Wind River Range and eventually found a backpacker without a trekking pole. I untied the last pole from my pack and handed it over to its new mom to continue on to another adventure.

Briana K. Whitehead has a bachelor of science in environmental studies and biology, a certificate in outdoor education, an agricultural Returned Peace Corps Volunteer certificate, a master of science in land resources and environmental science, and is starting her Ph.D. in earth science in January 2024. She currently serves in the USDA-NRCS as a GIS specialist and soil conservationist. She volunteers with Pend Oreille Pedalers and Southwest Montana Mountain Bike Association, and is married to her favorite recreational buddy. They have two dogs who go everywhere with them.