Day Hikes in Grand Teton and Yellowstone National Parks

After my husband and I planned a destination wedding in Telluride, Colorado in 2019, we decided to defer our honeymoon to 2020. We both had so much going on in 2019, personally and professionally, aside from planning a wedding. The year felt like an emotional rollercoaster with no time to spare for the honeymoon we wanted. 2020 was supposed to be a year of stability and settling into our happily normal lives as newlyweds. In hindsight, it sounds so naive, right? To be fair, the inconvenience of planning and cancelling two honeymoons in 2020 cannot compare to the struggles of brides who’ve had to postpone or significantly alter wedding plans this year. After aborted plans to travel to New Zealand in May, and then the Hawaiian island of Kauai in August, we made a third and final attempt to have a honeymoon in 2020 and decided to travel to Jackson, Wyoming. Neither of us had been before, and while it wasn’t the trip we thought we’d be taking for our honeymoon, we were grateful for the opportunity to go and excited to explore this place that’s touted as one of the most beautiful destinations in America.

Andy and I on the summit of Table Mountain (11,106 ft) in Grand Teton National Park

Located in a valley immediately south of Grand Teton National Park, Jackson provides immediate access to an endless array of hiking adventures against a sprawling and rugged mountain backdrop. The road that leads into the park from Jackson actually continues north into Yellowstone National Park as well. Admission to each park costs $35 per car (assuming up to four passengers per car) and covers unlimited travel into and out of the park for seven consecutive days. However, an annual National Parks pass costs $80 and grants pass holders admission to more than 100 federally managed recreation areas, including all National Parks. The annual pass does not cover camping permits or shuttle fees, but it’s an incredibly sensible purchase for anyone interested in exploring America’s public lands.

Despite reviewing multiple hiking resources (AllTrails, travel blogs, local guides, etc.), narrowing down our options in the Tetons and Yellowstone was so difficult due to the immense quantity and variety of attractive trails. I’d hike any of the four trails that we explored again, but for each of them, there are about a dozen others that appeared to be just as gorgeous and rewarding. As is the case in most National Parks, popular trails receive very heavy foot traffic, so I’d definitely recommend visiting in the off season or on a week day, and getting an early start regardless of when you visit. If you have the opportunity to speak to a local, ask for their recommendations. We received several recommendations for trails we hadn’t uncovered through our own research from our Airbnb host and from a friend’s sister who lives in the area. Utilize your social media network as well. Most people will gladly share their experiences and provide insightful tips, even if they don’t know you. Asking a stranger for advice is only creepy if you act like a creep.

We hiked three trails in Grand Teton National Park and one in Yellowstone. Although Yellowstone is seven times larger than its neighbor to the south, Grand Teton National Park is a more sensible option for day hikes. Yellowstone is vast and spread out, and a two-hour drive separates the park’s southern boundary from Jackson, WY. Even after entering Yellowstone from the southern road, visitors still have to travel for miles and miles before reaching any trails that could reasonably be hiked within a day, considering route lengths and the roundtrip travel time from Jackson. During our trip, all lodges and most campgrounds in both parks were closed or operating at very limited capacity due to COVID-19. With all of this in mind, we didn’t have many viable hiking options at Yellowstone. Based on our very limited time in both places, we both preferred our hikes in Grand Teton National Park over the one in Yellowstone. However, I feel like we barely scratched the surface of areas to explore in both parks and hope to see much more of both in the future.

BONUS: If you visit the Tetons in the summer and want to try an outdoor activity that isn’t hiking, I highly recommend renting a kayak or canoe from the Coulter Bay Marina on Jackson Lake. We only had a couple of hours to spend on the lake before heading to the airport, but in hindsight, we wish we’d dedicated an entire day to exploring this massive and beautiful lake beneath the mountains.

Taggart Lake and Bradley Lake Loop

This mild six-mile loop begins at the Taggart Lake trailhead and offers stunning views of the Tetons for less effort than most of the park’s trails. Because of this, the trail receives very heavy foot traffic, especially the Taggart Lake section. Most visitors only hike the Taggart Lake loop (about four miles) and omit the extension that includes trail to Bradley Lake. With little else to do and plenty of daylight, we hiked the full six miles, although I admit that the best part of the hike was the section along Taggart Lake. The trail to Bradley Lake doesn’t provide access to the lakeshore, only shrouded glimpses of the lake through the trees along a ridge above the lake. Beyond the loop, there’s an option to hike to Garnet Canyon, and this section of the trail may provides better access to Bradley Lake. We stayed on the loop, knowing we’d hike into Garnet Canyon on another trail a couple of days later.

The trail weaves in and out of a dense forest, and magnificent views of the Tetons dominate the skyline along the open sections. There’s only about 750 feet of elevation gain, and most of that occurs on the Bradley Lake section. At Taggart Lake, we enjoyed absolutely majestic vistas of the Tetons rising above this sprawling lake. The trail runs along the edge of the lake for almost half a mile and offers many spots where hikers can step off the trail to explore the shoreline and experience uninterrupted mountain views, steps away from the congestion of other hikers along the trail.

Grand Teton (center) towering over Taggart Lake, amid hazy conditions due to the wildfires west of the Tetons during our visit

This was our first of our three hikes in Grand Teton National Park, and it turned out to be the easiest as well. We almost didn’t hike this trail at all, but I’m so glad that we did. Initially, we’d planned to hike the Cascade Canyon Trail, accessible via the Jenny Lake area in the park. However, we abandoned these plans after seeing swarms of people along the access trail. Jenny Lake is gorgeous, and Cascade Canyon is supposed to be one of the most beautiful hiking trails in the park, but we felt so discouraged by the masses we encountered here (at 9:00 AM on a Thursday, by the way) that we left the Jenny Lake area and didn’t go back during our trip. If you’re considering hiking here, especially during the peak summer season, 9:00 AM isn’t an early enough start time, regardless of the length of your planned hike. However, this created an opportunity to explore the Taggart Lake and Bradley Lake Loop, and this proved to be a less crowded option with much better views than we expected.

Bradley Lake, with Teewinot Mountain (12,166 ft) visible in the background, as viewed from the trail

Delta Lake via the Amphitheater Trail

When we asked the owner of the Airbnb rental where we stayed on our trip to Jackson Hole for hiking recommendations, she told us, without hesitation, that Delta Lake via the Amphitheater Trail was her favorite hike in the Tetons. With an endorsement like that, we knew we had to check it out for ourselves. This out-and-back hike covers eight miles roundtrip and about 2,300 feet of elevation gain. The Lupine Meadows Trailhead provides access to several popular hiking trails, so unless you arrive early (before 8:00 AM), plan on adding some additional distance to your eight-mile hike because you’ll have to park along the dirt road that leads to the small unpaved parking lot. Of all the trails we hiked, this one was the busiest. We started early enough to avoid heavy foot traffic on the way up to Delta Lake, but there was rarely a moment on the way down when other hikers weren’t within view.

views from the Lupine Meadows Trailhead at Grand Teton National Park

The trail climbs steadily over the first three miles, mercifully distributing the elevation gain relatively evenly over a series of switchbacks. The trail is wide and easy to follow, and the views become more and more expansive along the ascent. After about 3.2 miles of moderate hiking, a cairn marks the spot where hikers headed to Delta Lake exit the maintained trail and begin a primitive route up through Glacier Gulch and over a series of boulder fields. Although this final mile up to Delta Lake isn’t maintained by the park, there’s a clear route and a few cairns that make it easier to navigate through the boulders. This route is difficult and very steep, ascending nearly 900 feet in less than a mile. There’s very little shade, so if you hike this trail in August like we did, I highly recommend sunscreen.

Delta Lake isn’t visible until you climb the final stretch of trail and emerge through a few trees and right onto the lake’s rocky shoreline. This brilliant turquoise lake lies immediately below Grand Teton, and it’s one of the most breathtakingly beautiful places I’ve seen on any hike. Photos don’t accurately capture the magnitude of the scenery around this alpine lake. Nestled in a drainage basin at 9,000 feet, Delta Lake’s still transparent waters reflect images of the surrounding massive granite monoliths. The rocky shoreline offers plenty of space for hikers to spread out and enjoy the scenery around them. A few brave souls swam in the lake, but even in the summer heat, that water felt way too cold for comfort for this hiker from the Deep South. Regardless, we felt perfectly content to sit on a rock at the lake’s edge and enjoy a leisurely lunch before returning to the trailhead.

Grand Teton’s famous shark fin profile rises above the turquoise waters of Delta Lake

Table Mountain

During the weeks leading up to our trip to Jackson Hole, we seriously considered a summit hike to the top of Middle Teton, the least technical of the thee mountains that the range is named for. Although there’s no technical climbing involved, Middle Teton is a massive undertaking, with 13 miles of hiking and more than 6,000 feet of elevation gain, plus class 3 and 4 scrambling near the summit. After arriving in Jackson and seeing this beast in person, we reluctantly decided pick another mountain. I rarely let intimidation prevent me from any hike, and I’m sure we’d have been fine and successful if we’d tried to climb Middle Teton. However, we just didn’t feel compelled to climb a mountain like this one on our honeymoon. Instead, we followed the recommendation of a local and opted for Table Mountain, which is no small feat at 11,106 feet, but a milder alternative to Middle Teton.

Teton peaks (from left) as viewed form the summit of Table Mountain: Mount Owen (12,928 ft), Grand Teton (13,776 ft), Middle Teton (12,806 ft), South Teton (12,514 ft)

The hike to the summit of Table Mountain begins outside of Grand Teton National Park, and the peak lies on the park’s western boundary. Perhaps because the trail isn’t in the national park, or perhaps due to its difficulty, this trail doesn’t receive nearly as much foot traffic as the others we hiked. We ascended via the four-mile Face Trail and descended on the seven-mile Huckleberry Trail. The two trailheads are only a five-minute walk away from each other, and most people who climb this mountain do so by following the same loop that we took. With 4,000 feet of elevation gain over four miles, the Face Trail definitely presents a challenge. Factor in the altitude and the smoky conditions we hiked in, as haze from the wildfires many miles west of us permeated the air in the Tetons, and this trail felt entirely brutal. It felt only slightly less difficult than the fourteener hikes I’ve done in Colorado. For all of its adversity, the scenery is undeniably gorgeous. The hazy air obscured views of distant mountains, but we could see those that were within a few miles of us, and after we passed the tree line, less than a mile from the summit, we were surrounded on all sides by incredible mountain vistas.

the final push, about 300 vertical feet below the summit of Table Mountain

The final push to the summit includes a short class 1 or 2 scramble with some exposure, but the route is straightforward and obvious. As the name suggests, the summit of Table Mountain is flat and spacious, and it provides a truly epic panoramic view of the three Teton peaks: Grand, Middle, and South. The views were insanely gorgeous, but I can’t even imagine how much better they’d be on a clear day. We could have stayed up there all day and never tired of the views, but the wind was howling and thoughts of cheeseburgers and beer started to creep in, so we began the seven-mile return trek along the Huckleberry Trail. We didn’t expect the views to be even prettier along this trail than they were on the way up via the Face Trail, but we were shocked by the endless sea of colorful wildflowers surrounded by mountain vistas that we encountered throughout the descent. Unlike the Face Trail, the Huckleberry Trail offered views of Table Mountain from afar, and it felt really satisfying to look back at the peak we’d just climbed.

The views on the descent from the summit of Table Mountain, along the Huckleberry Trail, were magnificent. The peak shaped like a shark’s fin in this photo is Grand Teton, and the flat summit to the left of it in the foreground is Table Mountain. The terrain on Table Mountain looks deceptively easy from this vantage point.

About three miles from our end point, the vegetation thickened around the trail, and we started hiking through frequent patches of tall grass and shrubbery, often several feet high on either side of the trail. Many of the bushes were covered in bright berries, and we clearly weren’t the only ones in the area who noticed them. There was fresh and ample evidence of recent bear activity along this part of the trail, lying in little piles that we had to step over as we hiked. We saw dozens of bear sized interruptions in the shrubbery, the beginnings of paths clearly formed when these locals wandered off the trail in search of more fruit-filled bushes or water from the nearby creek. We hiked through these conditions for two and a half miles, feeling somewhat anxious considering how limited our visibility was because of the dense vegetation around us. The closer we became to the trailhead, the more surprised I felt that we hadn’t seen a bear. I’d accepted the fact that they were playing mind games with us, dropping bombs in our path and then retreating into the brush to mock us as we carefully moved past them without knowing they were watching.

And then, as if it’d been waiting on us the whole time, a Black Bear wandered out onto the trail about thirty or so feet in front of us, when we were only half a mile from the end of our eleven-mile hike. I spoke, to alert my husband who was hiking behind me, and the bear looked up and slowly started moving toward us. The bear wasn’t displaying any signs of aggression, but likely just investigating the noise it’d heard when we approached along the trail. Bears are curious creatures with poor vision, so it’s best to speak loudly when a bear notices you, so that it acknowledges you and differentiates your human voice from the natural sounds its prey may make. The bear was too close for me to feel comfortable whipping out my phone for a photo, or do anything besides recall the tenets bear safety protocol. We did what we were supposed to do, without using our bear spray, and the bear retreated into the woods on its own after only a minute or two. We safely made it back to our car, relieved and grateful for an exciting finale to one of the most incredible hikes I’ve ever taken.

abundant wildflower views along the Huckleberry Trail, and Table Mountain (center)

Fairy Falls and Grand Prismatic Hot Spring Overlook

As I’ve mentioned earlier, Yellowstone National Park isn’t very close to Jackson Hole. However, the drive up through the Tetons and into the park isn’t exactly boring. The views are immaculate, so the time flies by quickly. Be prepared for traffic jams caused by wild moose or bears on the side of the road, which will add time to your commute even if the animals have disappeared by the time that you emerge from the congestion. There’s no way to know for sure, but we think we experienced this kind of traffic about five times on our six-hour roundtrip journey to and from the Fairy Falls trailhead, even though we only saw one moose along the side of the road.

Yours won’t be the only car in the parking lot at the Fairy Falls trailhead, as this trailhead also provides access to the Grand Prismatic Spring overlook, one of the most popular spots in the park. The main road offers immediate access to this massive hot spring’s steamy edges, but even from afar, we could see throngs of visitors along the boundaries of this intensely colorful hot spring. Our overlook wasn’t lonely but definitely wasn’t as crowded as the boardwalk that leads to hot spring. I haven’t been to the edge of Grand Prismatic Spring, but I’m telling you now, the views from above are better than the ones you’d find along the boardwalk. On our way back to the car, a woman in the parking lot asked me about the overlook, and after I showed her a photo I’d taken, she admitted that she should have skipped the boardwalk trail to Grand Prismatic Spring and only hiked the overlook trail.

Grand Prismatic Hot Spring, as viewed from the overlook on the trail to Fairy Falls

Beyond the overlook, the trail continues along a dirt road before veering off into an evergreen forest along the approach to Fairy Falls. The hike to and from Fairy Falls includes five total miles and less than three hundred feet of elevation gain, making this the easiest of all our hikes on this vacation. We passed through places where the forest had burned and started to regrow, revealing expansive views of the wide open landscape around us. and the thousands of yellow wildflowers that covered the forest floor. A high granite cliff rose above us in the distance on the left, and the trail meandered increasingly closer to this cliff wall as we hiked towards Fairy Falls.

Fairy Falls, an absolutely gorgeous 200 ft waterfall (I couldn’t capture the whole thing on my iPhone) in Yellowstone National Park

The sound of falling water grew louder and the trees became more sparse as we approached a clearing, nestled below the granite cliff. As we entered the clearing, Fairy Falls suddenly presented itself, cascading down from the top of the cliff, 200 feet above us. The water formed a gorgeous pool at the bottom of the falls and then trickled over rocks and fallen trees as it made its way down into the meadow beyond the clearing. I’ve seen dozens of waterfalls in Tennessee. You can hardly throw a rock in this state without hitting water, but they never cease to amaze me. The constant motion of the water and the ever changing flow make it impossible to really see the same waterfall twice. As gorgeous as Fairy Falls looked in the middle of summer, I’m sure it’s even more impressive in spring when the flow is heavier or in winter when it’s covered in ice and snow. Regardless, the trail to Fairy Falls is absolutely worth the minimal effort that this hike requires and an amazing destination in Yellowstone National Park that’s much more secluded than the attractions along the park’s main loop.

Here’s a rare photo of a wild animal that didn’t require any zoom. We encountered this local immediately beside the trail, about a mile into our hike to Delta Lake via the Lupine Meadows trailhead.

Hiking Near Salt Lake City: Lake Blanche Trail

In the midst of an emotionally turbulent weekend, celebrating my cousin’s wedding in Salt Lake City and mourning the sudden loss of my grandmother back in Nashville, I hiked Lake Blanche Trail in Wasatch National Forest. I explored this trail two days after an incredible hiking experience on Antelope Island in the Great Salt Lake with my parents, and my beloved grandmother unexpectedly passed on the day in between these two hikes. The trails pass through vastly different environments, despite their proximity to each other. They lie on opposite sides of Salt Lake City, separated by an hour-long drive, but they may as well exist on two different planets. This profoundly resonated with me, and still does, because in the midst of simultaneous joy and tragedy, I felt very thinly stretched between two extreme states of mind. The severe highs and lows aggravated emotional wounds that hadn’t yet healed after losing my grandfather only three months earlier and a week after mine and Andy’s wedding celebration in Nashville. I can’t really describe the amount of joy that my wedding brought into my life at a time when I so desperately needed it. However, the grief of losing my grandfather at the same time, filled me with so many intense and conflicting emotions, and all of these returned in full force when my grandmother passed away the day before my cousin’s wedding.

Lake Blanche, frozen and magnificent beneath the gorgeous profile of Sundial Peak

My hike to Lake Blanche, on my cousin’s wedding day and in the immediate aftermath of my grandmother’s death, felt incredibly selfish. I can’t think of a more accurate way to describe how I felt about it as soon as my boots hit the dirt. I honestly don’t know if I process grief in a healthy way, but I do know that the part of sadness that I struggle with most is the suffocating weight of it. I need room to breathe and time alone to grieve, and this (unsurprisingly) can create an inadvertent distance that raises concern among people around me who rely on the community of loved ones to carry them through difficult times. I certainly appreciate the power of family and togetherness in times of joy and sorrow, but I have little faith in my ability to provide comfort to others when the burden of our collective grief makes all my words and actions feel so insignificant. So much sadness under one roof just makes me feel like we’re all being buried alive by circumstances beyond what we can control. Spending time alone outside helps me find the clarity and strength that I need to heal.

There’s so much about my experience on the trail to Lake Blanche that felt surreal, but I can say with unflinching certainty that I felt the presence of my grandparents on this hike. Maybe that feeling was just the result of wishful thinking during a time of immense vulnerability. They never hiked this trail, but I felt their presence there as strongly as I felt the crisp mountain wilderness around me. This hike was a deeply personal experience for me, and as a result, I’ve been on the fence about sharing it. However, I’ve learned that writing about my hikes, especially the ones I take while I’m experiencing significant life events off the trail, helps me process my thoughts and emotions in a more rational way. Hindsight from a comfortable distance often provides perspective that makes me feel just a little less crazy than I may have in the moment.

I shed my outer layer to pose for a photo taken by the one other hiker I saw at the crest above Lake Blanche. It seemed like a good idea at first, but it was also 20 degrees and very windy, so that lasted exactly as long as the photo op.

Logistically, the trail to Lake Blanche and back covers about 7 miles and almost 3,000 feet of elevation gain. This one burns the glutes, but it’s entirely beautiful. As the trail climbs, the views get bigger and the spaces between patches of sparkling snow and ice get smaller. Hiking here in late November, on the verge of winter, I felt grateful for the opportunity to experience this trail just days before it’d become indistinguishable beneath a thick blanket of snow. Snow and ice presented a challenge in some places, especially on the upper mile or so of trail, but I didn’t use crampons or microspikes and managed to stay upright with some careful foot placement when necessary. The weather forecast on the day after my hike predicted at least a couple of inches of snow, which would have complicated this hike that’s far from easy under the most ideal conditions. The opportunity to hike this trail, on what may very well have been the final day before winter truly encompassed the area, felt like a magnificent and much needed byproduct of divine intervention.

This one’s easily among my favorite photos from any of my hikes from 2019. This is the final segment of trail to the crest above Lake Blanche. The lake isn’t visible yet, but the tree line has faded into the background, and Sundial Peak dominates the skyline.

Start to finish, views of stunning peaks and serene woodlands surround the trail to Lake Blanche on all sides. Everything within sight, in every direction I turned, appeared to be so naturally and majestically flawless. The trail’s strenuous and rocky incline, combined with the altitude, exhausted my body. Mentally and spiritually, however, I’ve hardly ever felt more alive and energetic. AllTrails and many other sources rank the trail to Lake Blanche as one of Utah’s very best, which shouldn’t be taken lightly in a state that’s home to five national parks and some of the country’s most diverse environments. After experiencing this trail for myself, during a time of seasonal (and personal) transition nonetheless, I’m a believer. I can’t appropriately capture the trail’s immense natural beauty with words or photos.

Even the lower section of the trail provided breathtaking and snow speckled views of the Wasatch National Forest during the final days of Fall.

The trail offers plenty of panoramic mountain views on the way up, but Lake Blanche isn’t visible from the trail until its crest at nearly 9,000 feet. The frozen lake, sparkling beneath the mighty profile of Sundial Peak, comes into view all at once in a moment of triumph after a grueling ascent. That’s the moment when I felt the presence of my grandparents more strongly than any other on this hike. I heard their voices and felt the excitement in their cheers as my tired body finally emerged on the rocky terrain above the edge of the lake. They followed my hiking journey more closely than anyone and loved hearing stories from my experiences. They read every blog post and cherished the photos I’d send after every new hike. They traveled all over the world when they were healthy enough to do so, and I believe they saw something of themselves in me as I developed a similar passion for exploring new places. I believe that brought them joy, and I find comfort in knowing that their everlasting spirits can experience these wild and wonderful places with me now.

When it’s hard to find something to smile about, go outside.

The purity of the Wasatch National Forest and the trail to Lake Blanche that runs through it, somehow made me feel simultaneously vulnerable and invincible. I needed to feel vulnerable to open myself up to the healing process, and I needed to hike this very challenging trail by myself to affirm the strength and courage I’d rely on to carry me through the difficult days ahead. Adjusting to life without their physical presence hasn’t been easy, but the legacy they’ve left behind inspires me to continue writing my own adventure. And from this first adventure after grandmother’s death until the day when I take my final hike, I know they’ll be with me every step of the way.

The blazing sun manifests itself in most of my photos from this hike, and even in the sub-freezing temps, the sunlight warmed my body. I like to think my grandparents nudged God about keeping me warm, in that affectionate but really persistent way that only grandparents have.