Jackson Hole is a valley in Wyoming. Jackson is the resort town within it. The river that runs through it all is the Snake and it is a lovely one: a thick rush of water that eventually empties into the Columbia River, and from there into the Pacific at Portland, Oregon. In spite of legend, Dick Cheney did not grow up here. Casper, Wyoming will have to answer for that.
Jackson itself is, unfortunately, a self-caricature of a western town. Hosting so many festivals must have gone to its head, because it looks remarkably like Walt Disney's Pioneer Village. I've never seen so much log cabin construction and cattle-brand signage in one place. You apparently can't even serve sushi here unless you do so with stump seating, a ten-gallon hat, and a friendly "Howdy, pardner, we just done rustled up some fresh toro. What'll it be?"
Still, we have found something good. We are currently lodged in a delightful old motor hotel, the Virginian. If you've never stayed in an old American motel, this is the 70s revisited: a one-story, drive-up affair with paneled rooms, a cocktail lounge, and a steak house. Even the blue, threadbare carpet speaks to the era where Howard Johnson made a name for himself (and taught the world to love pistachio ice cream).
We have the pleasure of this symbol of Americana because of a rainstorm last night. Normally we prefer to camp, but it's now raining steadily. Last night we put up with it. But though our sleeping bags held, water seeped into everything else, destroying two good books and making it tough to cook dinner. Still, Nicole and I managed to create an interesting hot wine drink (see comments for a recipe), and get some sleep. Unfortunately we woke in a driving rainstorm that steadily worsened to snow as the day went by.
Now, we are thinking of heading over to the cocktail lounge and reliving my parents' heyday in the late 60s and early 70s. Actually, if we were reliving that particular heyday with painstaking accuracy, we'd probably be smuggling in our own gin in Mason jars, but that's another story.
3 comments:
Our recipe for Montpelier Gluwein. It is a drink of duress, but a good one:
You need: red wine, water, sugar, nutmeg. That's all you need.
Heat some water to boiling. Take a cup and fill a glass 1/3 full of wine. Add about a tablespoon of sugar depending on taste. Add boiling water to the glass, filling it. Stir and then shake nutmeg over the rest. Drink.
Hmm...having been with the shepter clan for quite some time, I don't mind elaborating on the original cocktail. Ingredients: 1 purse sized mason jar.
One glass of ice ordered from the waitress.
Wait until waitress looks the other way, mix as desired.
We're big on recipes. Please share.
Well I looked up Grand Teton geology and it must be absolute heaven for rockhounds. This hodgepodge of rocks has all three rock types, igneous, metamorphic and sandstone (both carbonate and clastic). Ancient and young rocks juxtaposed with middle aged sandstones - a perfect setting for unusual minerals and great fossils. They are the youngest rocks of the Rocky Mountain chain, yet contain rocks that cannot be aged due to their metamorphosis. I will have to get up there some day (I promise not to steal fossils...really).
One plentiful metamorphic rock is the slick, greenish serpentinite, which the Native Americans in the region apparently mold into bowls & other items - the rock is referred to as 'Teton Jade.' You wouldn't think a hard metamorphic rock could be so pliable, however this is the same rock that makes much of Northern California so prone to damage in earthquakes. Its slick, slippery character lends itself perfectly to shifting earth.
Anyway, just a gift idea & my birthday is coming up....
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