I knew we were north of the border, but but the time you get to Pinedale, Wyoming, beer from Colorado is labeled an “import.”


Maybe should have seen this coming; in Cheyenne we stopped in at a liquor store, bought a 12-pack and the guy hit us with, “Would you like a bottle with that?” We looked around, finally asked if he had any malt scotch. “Sure! What size?”




Pinedale is a great base for the Wind Rivers. Nice brew pub and a selection of bars and cafes, either staunchly Old-West, like the Wrangler Cafe and the Stockman Restaurant, or flagrantly hippy haunts like the Rock Rabbit. The Winds are a secretive mountain range, you really can’t see the mountains from outside and no roads traverse the range, unlike the picture postcard Tetons.



But,when you hike the ten-plus miles in, the mountains are wildly spectacular.




First day we climbed the Railroad Tracks on Haystack, a sorta 5.9, great climbing, maybe 8 pitches total, on perfect granite.



The summit of Haystack is wild, with tremendous views in every direction.


Next day we went for a hike:



Day 3 we climbed the north face of the Steeple, a free standing summit with a long, long approach.


Great climb. First couple pitches follow perfect easy cracks.



Higher, some serious burrowing was required....


The 4th-class section:


Finally, the summit: Woohoo!


Weather was not so great but rain held off until we were safely down to the trail. The descent involves complex wanderings around steep grassy ledges with major drop-offs so this was a good thing.

Last morning:


Our next port of call was Jackson to check out Christian Beckwith’s boulder project. He’s been instrumental in installing a fun boulder park in the middle of town.


A long, drunken evening ensued (thanks for the hospitality CB!). We stayed at the Climbers Ranch, a sort of Camp 4 with training wheels. Then on the ski tram to climb at Corbet's Couloir.





Excellent limestone.


Then south to Rock Springs. Or maybe not. We meandered off into the Red Desert to stumble onto a volcanic plug called the Boar’s Tusk.




It’s maybe 200 feet tall, and the easy route up it is only 5.5 or so, but it’s steep and the rock is entertainingly loose.


Views are superb. To the north are a line of huge sand dunes wandering across the desert, all else is sage and rabbit brush, still, silent, flat. The smoke from the recent fires created a strange haze.



Then we headed for home.