The tight concentration of tall peaks and pinnacles called the Cathedral Group has been described as “Chartres multiplied by six, a choir of shimmering granite spires soaring high above the nave and transept of the valley below.” Few fail to be impressed by these most scenic of mountains and by their staggering panoramic quality. Theodore Roosevelt, so often given to eloquence, called this “the most beautiful country in the world.” You may find yourself spending an inordinate amount of time just staring at the mountains.
The Tetons, being classic fault-block mountains, were originally mound-like, not jagged and spired. They were formed as the Earth cracked along a north-south line at the base of the mountains. As the Earth’s outer crust faulted under pressures deep within its mantle, the western block tilted upward and the eastern block sank. We speak about this mountain building in the past tense because, for us mortals, mountains symbolize eternity. But the action continues.
The Tetons are the youngest mountains in the Rocky Mountain system, but they are made out of some of the oldest rock in North America. The granitic gneisses and schists north and south of the central, highest peaks are some of the hardest and least porous rocks known. The rock of the Grand Teton is a younger granite. These qualities, and the accessibility of major peaks, attract technical rock climbers. The handholds are secure and the views breathtaking.
The geologic time scale is so vast we cannot imagine it. Most of us simply refuse to imagine more than a few thousand years: we find anything greater too inhibiting. The Ice Age ended its major glacial action about 10,000 years ago, the beginning of the Holocene or the Recent, as early man wandered the glacial ice margins. But seven-eighths of Earth history are tied up in the Precambrian Period, the period of formation of the Teton Range’s 3.5-billion-year-old rocks. By contrast, just east of Jackson Hole—Thermopolis on your Wyoming highway map—there is now forming the youngest rock in the United States, travertine. Further proof that geologic processes continue.
The massive Teton Range contains a miniaturized world on a different time scale. The alpine world is a summer surprise because it offers flowering displays long after the valley show concludes for the season. Bloom time is delayed by ascending altitude: the rule of thumb is about 12 days delay per 1,000 feet. If you miss the yellow buttercups at lower elevations, climb higher and you may overtake their montane flowering in full bloom. Such are the rigors of alpine tundra life that here the flowers largely depend on wind for pollination, or on flies, rather than on bees. Bees cannot withstand the cold temperatures so common at these heights. The alpine insect explosion is brief, but ants, ladybugs and other beetles, and diminutive grasshoppers inhabit the alpine world. They make fast food for alpine-nesting birds, such as pipits, horned larks, white-crowned sparrows, and rosy finches that are desperately trying to nourish their hungry broods between the two edges of winter.
Specialized and severe, the alpine world is sparsely populated. Here eagles and weasels hunt for bird nestlings, marmots, pikas, pocket gophers, deer mice, and voles. The heartbeat of the extremely fragile tundra is slow by necessity. That any plants have adapted to this environment seems incredible. Yet alpine laurel fills rock crevices. Spring beauty blooms in pockets of soil. Mats of moss campion carpet slopes of shattered rock. White columbine nod in the wind shadows of larger rocks. Alpine sunflowers blaze like a galaxy of equal suns, their disproportionately large flowers awkwardly seated on abbreviated stalks.
The process of developing from bare rock to fully developed alpine vegetation might require thousands of years. By contrast, it is estimated that 100 years are required to form one inch of soil on the plains. On alpine heights the rate is many times slower. The first plants to colonize bare mountain rock might be lichens, multi-colored crustose plants adapted to extreme conditions. Lichens are tough. They grow on rocky outcrops near the South and North Poles. They also thrive on desert rocks that are too hot to touch. Lichen plants can first be dried in air and then in a dessicator and then exposed to 514°F for up to seven hours and yet, upon return to room temperatures, they will resume normal metabolism. And lichens regulate, to some extent, water flow at high elevations. On dry days their water content may be from two to ten percent of dry weight. On rainy days that may soar to more than 300 percent. Mats of lichen hold so much moisture that even a rise in barometric pressure may press some water out to resume its tortuous trip toward the Pacific Ocean.
Seven Teton peaks exceed 12,000 feet and one, the Grand Teton, pushes above 13,000 feet to 13,770 feet in elevation. At such heights, conditions support mountain glaciers. The Teton Glacier is one of about a dozen small alpine glaciers cradled in shaded east- or north-facing cirques among the high peaks. Teton Glacier occupies a spectacular cirque that faces east between the north face of the Grand and Mount Owen. It is partially fed by avalanches from the cliffs around it. Some of these cliffs are more than 3,000 feet high. The glacier’s terminus has retreated markedly since 1929, but the rate of loss was less between 1954 and 1963 than it was between 1929 and 1954. The mountain glaciers in today’s Tetons are not left over from the Ice Age. They began forming about 500 to 1,000 years ago, during the so-called Little Ice Age.
As insignificant as these glaciers are compared to the colossal sheets that repeatedly lumbered through the Tetons and Jackson Hole, they slowly exact a toll on this hard rock, continuing to carve, etch, and abrade the range. They host life too: algae of a reddish hue that give rise to the phenomenon called watermelon snow.