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Please remember that the text and all images in this article are (c) 2025, James Morrissey. The images listed as (c) John Ungereanu were licensed to NWPphotoForum as part of this article.

Last year, my brother Ronald and I were leaving Oxbow Bend in Grand Teton National Park when I looked at him and said, “You know, I have done it all here. There is nothing left for me to photograph.”

There was a moment of absolute stunned silence. I could not believe I had just heard myself say that. As my brain swirled downward in a widening gyre, a crosswind pulled me up and I heard a divine voice as the clouds parted: “UP, James. Thou must go UP!!!” In the depth of my epiphany, I could hear the dueling banjos from Deliverance playing....wait, wrong music. I could hear harps, and the Seraphim Singing and then…a deep gong sound, followed shortly by silence. I had my mission.

OK, all right, you caught me. I am in a silly mood. But that aside, it’s fair to say I was feeling photographically stagnant. And yes, I understand that what I’m about to say sounds like a real First World Problem. I was getting tired of hitting the iconic Grand Teton photography locations over and over again. Once you’re done weeping for me, I hope you can empathize with feeling like you’re in a creative rut. I’ve photographed the classic Teton landscapes year in and year out, and I feel like I already have excellent images from all the major iconic locations. But the icons are really just a fraction of what’s out there.

Now that my dad is gone and I’m no longer “car bound,” it’s time to start getting onto the hiking trails and pushing myself to photograph the Wyoming mountains differently. If I learned one thing on all of my hikes in Yosemite National Park, it’s that if you want to see the icons differently, you must be willing to go where others don’t. For most folks, that’s 50 feet from their car (true statement). For me, the first and most obvious step was to go up.

My friend Janet had climbed the Grand Teton twice and recommended going with a guide. I called Exum Mountain Guides in November about scheduling a trip for 2025 and told them what I wanted to do. I was pretty clear that, even though I consider myself a very experienced hiker, I have zero technical climbing ability. They told me three very useful things: (1) the best time is generally the end of July or beginning of August, (2) I’d probably want a minimum of two days of training, and (3) the only way I could bring a tripod up was if I booked a private guide.


John and James, Practicing for the Climb

As the cost of doing this by yourself is not cheap (the website listed $3,220 to go solo), I put up a message on Facebook, and two of my friends replied that they’d be interested in joining me. This brought the actual cost of the 4-day guided Grand Teton climbing adventure to within spitting distance of what it would cost me to go up in a group without gear. The cost for a group excursion is actually quite reasonable: $1,490 per person for the full four-day training and climb.

Since I’m talking about cost, please make sure you watch the videos they put out on how to equip yourself. You should have an analog of all the items they recommend. And for the record, while I do NOT think you need to adorn yourself in Arc’teryx, you do need an equivalent. The mountain makes its own weather, and it can be really cold even in late July. You cannot assume conditions will be what you expect. I spent an awful lot of money at REI in the weeks prior to that trip. I especially want to thank Julian at the East Hanover REI, who actually gave me his Arc’teryx climbing gloves as he was purchasing a new pair. I put them to very good use, and I hope they’ll get another few climbs out of me.

I did as much training as I could before the trip to make sure I was in the shape I’d need to climb 13,750 feet. Previously, I’ve always tapped out at about 10,000 feet — and that usually included a night of feeling like I was going to die around 9,800. Yes, I’m a flatlander, and I get altitude sickness. I think it’s fair to say that I approached the climb with real humility. I knew there was a chance I wouldn’t make it. This is not to say I wasn’t 100% committed — only that I knew what I was attempting was difficult and beyond anything I’d ever done before.

I got out to Jackson about four days before my climb to acclimate. My friend John had gotten out there a week earlier, which turned out to be very smart since he’s also a flatlander. We spent the days photographing the Tetons — his first trip — and it was nice because I had a second chance to see the mountains through someone else’s eyes. John sees mountain photography as a kinetic sport. He has a keen eye, but he never stops moving. He takes panoramas at the speed of sound and… gasp… he almost never uses a tripod unless I guilt him into it. That said, it was great being there with him as he absorbed a place profoundly important to me.

This year, I stayed at the Grand Teton Climber’s Ranch, in the heart of the park. If you’re the right person, it’s an amazing place. Rooms are dormitory-style, with three bunks of two people each, but you’re literally right there in front of the mountains. Just be aware you COULD be sleeping next to Sir Snores-A-Lot — which sadly, I was. On a pleasant note, at least no one smelled like old potatoes, which I think is a real possibility. I stayed there because I somehow screwed up my reservations at Gros Ventre Campground and never hit the “purchase” button. I did find a room in Dubois for under $140 a night, but I didn’t want to add an hour to my drive each way. John, for his part, stayed in Victor, Idaho, which added an hour and a half to his sunrise times.


The Grand Teton Climber's Ranch

We met the Teton climbing guides on Monday, and I probably irked them all when I shouted, “Where is the 12-year-old who’s going to get me killed up there?” That was perhaps unfair, but I’ve become wary of trainers much younger who don’t understand middle-aged and older bodies. Furthermore, many younger people don’t seem to have as much to lose and therefore take risks I never would at this stage in my life. To my pleasant surprise, my guide was a 35-year-old with a home and a serious girlfriend. I also learned quickly that he was astute and incredibly watchful. That went a long way in allowing me to focus on my own quirks that I needed to work on to make this a success.

We spent the next two days climbing up rock faces and rappelling down them. For those of you who don’t know me, I am profoundly scared of heights. It didn’t help that, while I trained like a man preparing to climb a mountain, I had zero technical skills, and while my body is pretty solid overall, I lack flexibility. The first day, I was a mess. At one point I looked at Ty, our guide, and said, “I am your problem…” He did not disagree.

The second day, I worked to muster my courage and practice some of the skills I teach my youth — like 4-7-8 breathing and grounding techniques. I’d go so far as to say there was a 100% improvement in my ability to handle the heights and trust that I wasn’t going to die. However, it didn’t stop me from spiraling off the rock face not once, but three times. That said, Ty looked at me at the end of the second day of training and said, “You are infinitely better than you were on the first day. I think you can do this.” I was beat, but confident Ty wouldn’t be bringing me down in a wheelchair. For the record, I did mention that if I got seriously injured, a big rock could solve a lot of problems…


The Climb Up – The Look Up


The Climb Up – The Look Out


The Climb Up – The Look Out


The Climb Up - All Those Rocks Came From Somewhere...

The next morning, John and I met Ty and started the march up the Grand. I cruised until about 9,000 feet when, all of a sudden, I just started to feel weak. We had picked up another couple of hikers along the way who needed a hand, and I was starting to feel like an incredible burden to the safety of the group. I have a lot of hiking experience, and I was confident I could get back to the ground safely. I pulled Ty aside and said, “Let’s game this out. I think would be best if I went back down while I am still feeling strong as I don't think I will make it up.”

Ty looked at me and said, “You can do this. Let’s just get to the Saddle.” At that point, I will admit that I became a bit concerned because I strongly felt Ty was pushing me to do something that no good would come from, and I told him I was turning around. He looked at me and pulled, “Per Exum policy, I cannot let you go down the mountain once you have passed the boulder field.” LOL — there was quite a bit of authority in his voice, and I reminded him that I had signed every single form saying Exum was not liable. Ty looked at me and said, “Come on. Let’s just get to the Saddle.” Even though I knew I would make it fine to the floor, I didn’t want to be a burden or worry to him, so I dragged myself step by step up to the Lower Saddle, which was at 11,600 feet. It was a really slow process, one foot in front of the other. LOL, to be clear, I was not trying to be a pain in the butt. I know my body well enough to know when it is time to quit. Having said that, Ty definitely had the right of it.


James, Photographing from the Saddle, Shadow Mountain in the Rear


Sunset over Idaho

We all ate dinner and the three of us had a chat about next steps. I told Ty I wasn’t going up the next day and that I’d stay and photograph. John honestly seemed a bit annoyed and probably a bit disappointed, but I was 99 44/100 sure I didn’t have the wherewithal for the final ascent. I spent the time photographing with John. And I’ve got to say, the view of Idaho from the Saddle is pretty good. Who would have thunk it?

John and I were up at about 3:30 AM and went out to photograph, and I felt pretty good — until I started climbing back to the tent. Then I realized I still had zero energy. I was fine on the plateau or going downhill, but the moment I had to do anything involving elevation, I had nothing left in the tank.


Sunrise from the Saddle – That is a long way down.


Night Photography of the Grand – Me Watching Everyone Else Go Up

Watching John and the team go off was really difficult. I wanted this. There was definitely a sense of prevailing humiliation that I wasn’t even trying to make the summit, and I think I was actually the only one in the entire Grand Teton guided group who didn’t make it. At the same time, as much as I was chewing the humble pie, I also knew rationally that I was making a good decision and there should be no shame.

Unfortunately, the logical mind and the emotional heart are not always in cahoots. I was talking to a friend about the difference between humility and humiliation. Humiliation is something shameful that cuts to the bone. It is all encompassing. Humility is something dynamic and potentially growth-inspiring. As I said at the beginning of this article, I approached this with humility, but I’ll also admit that my failure brought moments of shame I’ve still been processing weeks later. Yet it also created profound growth. I learned so much about myself that I didn’t think I could do. I conquered my fear of heights. I used the many tools I teach the children I work with about how to handle anxiety. I beat this. THEY WORK.

I cannot blame myself for my blood oxygen crashing (that’s my working assumption). I think I just need more time to acclimate. Next time, I plan on taking the Tram in Jackson in the mornings and hiking around at 10,000 feet. That should help.


Sunrise on the Saddle


Sunrise on the Saddle – That is IDAHO, Baby!!!

Anyway, left to my own devices, I photographed until the light got hot and went back to my tent to wait for the others to return. Several hours later, people started trickling into the campground, and eventually John swept in, triumphant. He was beat, but jubilant. Several times he had compared himself to a mule, and from this day forward, his nickname will be just that! I am very proud of John; he showed such grit and determination.

The hike down to the base of the mountain took about four hours. The lower we went, the better we felt. By the time we broke 9,000 feet, I magically felt full of pep and ready to go back up. I’m not going to lie — I also spent the time thinking about how I’ll get on the summit next time. The summit itself isn’t photographically that interesting to me (though I think John got some really good mountain photos). What I really want is to photograph the Grand Teton from Disappointment Peak or Teewinot Mountain. That may come in the future.

Having said that, I now need to get to the top of the Grand for spite. Yes. Spite. I am going to climb the Grand for spite.

I am so thankful to our guide, Ty Guarino of Exum, who helped me do something I never would have conceived of doing. I cannot say enough how impressed I am with his attention to detail to make sure we were all safe. Well done, and thank you, Ty. You are a credit to Exum.

It ain’t over yet. I hope to do this “for real” in ’26.

Like the article? Consider joining our photography group on Facebook, a very positive and supportive environment for people interested in Nature, Landscape and Wildlife Photography. Membership is as easy as answering 3 simple questions and agreeing to avoid controversial topics like religion and politics in the group.

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Missed or want to Read Section II and III of this Article?

Park II James Morrissey shares his experience exploring Mount Rushmore and Devil’s Tower on his road trip through the American West.
Direct Link:
http://www.nwpphotoforum.com/ubbthreads/ubbthreads.php?ubb=showflat&Number=43979



Sunset at Devil's Tower, from the West facing East.


Part III Link:
James shares some memories of a dear friend and says good bye. This concludes our 3 part article on the drive West.

Link:
http://www.nwpphotoforum.com/ubbthreads/ubbthreads.php?ubb=showflat&Number=43983


Sunrise at Signal Mountain

Like the article? Consider joining our photography group on Facebook, a very positive and supportive environment for people interested in Nature, Landscape and Wildlife Photography. Membership is as easy as answering 3 simple questions and agreeing to avoid controversial topics like religion and politics in the group.

Link to FB Group:
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Missed or want to Read Section I of this Article? It covers driving to The Badlands of South Dakota from NYC.

James Morrissey shares his experience driving cross country to Badlands National Park with his wife and two dogs in a Subaru Forester. Part I, The Badlands of South Dakota.

Link:
http://www.nwpphotoforum.com/ubbthreads/ubbthreads.php?ubb=showflat&Number=43973#Post43973




Park II James Morrissey shares his experience exploring Mount Rushmore and Devil’s Tower on his road trip through the American West.
Direct Link:
http://www.nwpphotoforum.com/ubbthreads/ubbthreads.php?ubb=showflat&Number=43979




Sunset at Devil's Tower, from the West facing East.

James shares some memories of a dear friend and says good bye. This concludes our 3 part article on the drive West.

Link:
http://www.nwpphotoforum.com/ubbthreads/ubbthreads.php?ubb=showflat&Number=43983


Sunrise at Signal Mountain