Originally we had set out to ski the Skillet on Mount Moran, but looking up from the road, we noticed the choke was full of debris. I texted Brandon Marshall, the author of the Teton ski mountaineering blog Ten Thousand Too Far, and he was more concerned about the approach than the debris. “You couldn’t pay me $500 to approach Moran from Leigh Lake this time of year,” he said.

That was all I needed to hear. We packed up and drove to the Lupine Meadows Trailhead for Plan B: the Grand Teton’s little brother, the South Teton. With 14 miles and 6,000 feet of climbing ahead the next day, we closed our eyes and tried to imitate a good night’s sleep.

We woke to our 2:30 AM alarms in the back of Kevin’s truck. He serenaded me with a chorus of There Goes My Hero as I made the first push out of our warm sleeping bags—the crux of any backcountry ski objective. Thirty minutes later, we were climbing the Lupine Meadow switchbacks on our way to Garnet Canyon. By the time we reached the mouth of the canyon, we were grateful to finally put skis on our feet and off our backs.

We made it to the saddle between the Middle and South Tetons faster than we expected. That gave us the luxury of a long snack break while we waited for the snow to soften before the final push to the summit. The climb to the top of the South Teton is one of my favorites—just enough spice to keep you honest, but not so much that you can’t send your mom a picture.

We topped out around 9:00 AM, celebrated with high-fives and summit photos. We made our way back down to the NW Couloir and dropped in. This classic ski line is known for holding snow late into the season and was nicely filled in, even on May 25th. After a handful of less-than-perfect turns in the shaded, icy top section, conditions improved and we had playful skiing down the apron with a stunning view of the Middle and Grand Tetons ahead. The rest of the descent was smooth corn skiing, hooting and hollering.

On the way out, I was struck again by the privilege of skiing in such beautiful mountains. Progress in the mountains is incremental and often invisible while it’s happening. It’s easy to laugh at the tourists gawking at the skis on our backs as we hiked down—but it’s a good reminder that not too long ago, I was one of them.

Photos & Story by Sam Negen