From our departure point, you could just make out the tip of the iconic Grand Teton in the distance, the inspiration for so many adventurers in Jackson and beyond. that determines which rivers flow into the Pacific or Atlantic oceans. This wilderness is bisected by the Continental Divide, the hydrological split of the U.S. It lies just south of Yellowstone National Park and just east of Grand Teton National Park. First established in 1934, the land was designated as protected natural wilderness with the passage of the landmark Wilderness Act of 1964. The Teton Wilderness is an area that covers about 585,238 acres of wildland. Can you name a better trio? Photo: Ming Poon Where Are We Going? Truthfully, we didn’t know exactly what we were getting into, but the unknown has an allure. We would drive to Togwotee Pass, get bumped out to the wilderness boundary line via snowmobile, then set off with what we hoped was enough food, camera batteries, and supplies for some type of adventure. The three old friends embraced and then Bryan produced a map and reviewed the plan for the day. Not surprisingly, Travis of Art of Flight and The Fourth Phase fame was fresh off a heli trip in Alaska. Travis Rice pulled into parking lot next and the trio was complete. We were going to put this theory to the test. Rumor has it that Jeremy would walk forever if need be in order to ride a line that inspires him. Jones has ridden countless first descents around the world, pioneering the foot-powered splitboard movement. We had originally planned on doing the trip later in April, but a surprise week-long high-pressure system had moved in and the group had to reassess their play. Jeremy Jones arrived next, having driven twelve hours through the night from Lake Tahoe to meet us at 4 am. I was overwhelmed with the excitement of discovery as I left the snowmobile behind and began to explore the area with my splitboard and found a deeper connection to the land.” I’ll never forget the view… it seemed infinite, inaccessible, raw and wild. “Towards the end of my first winter, I rented a snowmobile on Togwotee and rode up to the wilderness boundary. “I moved from California to Jackson, Wyoming in 1995,” Byran revealed about his Jackson beginnings. It was Bryan and a handful of other Jackson Hole snowboarders that first explored the area around Togwotee Pass on snowboards in the late nineties, building jumps and riding lines that would help define a new era of the sport. One of the first things he told me was “Togwotee means from here you can go anywhere.” This idea felt truer than ever that morning.
This land has been an integral part of his journey as a snowboarder. He had spent over twenty years dancing with the wilderness border on Togwotee Pass. This trip was his vision, his brainchild. Photo: Ming Poon The Dream Teamīryan arrived at the TGR headquarters first that morning and he had a wide shining grin exploding from his gray speckled beard. Because I wasn’t raised in the shadow of some great mountain range, I have always felt less deserving of these experiences. My late start in the snow world had led to a deep insecurity about my ski touring (confession: I am a skier) and career. A serendipitous five years later and there I was prepping for the trip of a lifetime outside of TGR’s office in Wilson. This passion for snow led me to Jackson Hole and an unpaid internship with Teton Gravity Research. Solitude in the wilderness is a great teacher, the land is powerfully humbling.
They baptized me in the cult of winter and I was given a crash course on how to travel safely in the mountains, ski and snowboard film history, and the art of chasing a deep storm. I attended college in Vermont and became close with a group of friends who followed a religion I was unfamiliar with. Not surprisingly, in hindsight, the scouts never came calling and my hockey career was eventually relegated to late night beer leagues with fellow washed-up skaters.
I had dreams of grandeur, and I thought the Boston Bruins, NHL, and Stanley Cup were my future.
It was my religion, and the rundown, sweat-smelling rinks of New England were my church, a bastion where I could lose myself in the game. Growing up, I spent more time playing hockey than anything else. But on a dark morning last winter I was on the precipice of doing exactly that: a great adventure into the wilderness with some of the biggest heroes in snowboarding. If you had told me ten years ago that I would go on a ten-day splitboard mission through one of the most remote regions of the continental United States with Bryan Iguchi, Jeremy Jones, and Travis Rice, I would have laughed and called it fiction. Jeremy Jones, Travis Rice, and Byran Iguchi on a foot-powered mission deep into the Wyoming wild.