Saturday, October 18, 2008

Jackson Hole

Jackson Hole, Wyoming, is perhaps the most amusingly-named place that we fly to. That said, it is also tied with Sun Valley, Idaho, for its reputation as having the most needy and posturing residents*. I mean, you know you're going to get some feather-boa Juliet Alpha who wants sparkling water light ice with a twist of lime if you're going to L.A., but Sun Valley? Where is that? Anyone found Sun Valley? Anyone know where it is? And so, it was with a little trepidation that I approached my first overnight in Jackson Hole.

First off, it's beautiful, and you can tell even before you hit the ground. It's clear why people of all annoyance levels would live/vacation/retire here.

The drive from the airport to town wordlessly steals 'Big Sky' status from Montana. And also, you can see Sheep Mountain, which is also known as 'Sleeping Indian.' Here he is. Shhh.

The town itself is rustic and small, wrought from wood and deer antlers. And when I say antlers, I mean antlers. This is where deer go to film deer horror movies. In the center of downtown is a square garden, and at each corner is an arch made of antlers. Lots of antlers.

How are there still deer here?

Along the main drag are shops and restaurants. You can buy turquoise, fur, and silver. You can stop in at a diner and get a burger. Or have a drink at the Million Dollar Cowboy. I think it's great fun to ask passers-by where the Million Dollar Cowboy is, because the sign out front is nearly as big as the bar itself. I think it's fun, but it usually embarrasses the crew. It's summer in this picture, so the mountain at the end of the street is green... but in winter, that's where you ski in Jackson. Snow King resort is what that is, and the hotel in which we stay is right at the foot of it.

The hotel is cowpoke chic, like the rest of town. The view from the balcony is amazing during the day.

And also at night.
So now I see what the big deal is about Jackson Hole. Seems to be a great place for poor, rich, or nouveau riche. I'll probably board there this winter. But if I order anything to drink, it'll be a regular damn Coke, and screw the lime.

*Now if you live here, then no, I'm not making fun of you. But I bet you know the people I am making fun of....


Blogger Jon said...

Elk antlers are dropped every winter and boy scouts pick them up on the range you drove by on the way in to town. Now days they sell them to Japanese who grind them up into elk antler dust. Some kind of Asian Viagra.

4:04 PM  
Blogger Phil said...

That is probably the most bizarre explanation I've ever heard. I'm getting some immediately.

Not that I, you know... need it.

7:16 PM  

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