It's almost 9, I'm downstairs at the Blue Sage -- the Rusty Parrot's dining room. They serve breakfast here. From a menu because honestly, how could you do a buffet on a very small scale? Like for just one diner? (Yes, I'm the only one eating here right now, that's how low-low season this is. It's me and the American Indians in the painting next to me.)
But do people flood to Jackson later, in the winter? Yes, there is skiing, though by ski resort standards it's on a very small scale. My wildlife duo yesterday told me Jackson skiing is actually miserable: steep and icy. You're better off in any number of nearby places -- further up the valley or better yet -- in Utah or Idaho. Yes, you could go snowshoeing. And the elk do come down to the valley come winter. There are sleigh rides to the place they call home in the coldest months. You can do that. Yellowstone National Park is closed right now, but it reopens December 15th in a limited way -- for snowmobiling. (Snowmobiling??Should that even be allowed there?) For me, of course, activities aren't a lure. I like quiet, I like nature walks, I like a warm spot to snuggle with a book (or a teddy bear!). But as I'm finding out, to do those walks, you really need a car here and it isn't all that clear that I can go far if the snow is at all deep.
Then there's the issue of bears. One person will tell you that they're in their winter dens now. Another person scoffs and says -- they come out, even in January. Just look at these photos -- he'll show me one of a mama bear with her cubs in the snow. It's not that I expect to be mauled by a bear (though it happens), but it's yet another reminder why hiking in wild places alone (and especially at my age) may not be a great idea. The shopkeeper who had warned me about grizzlies said -- your hotel will have bear spray on loan. Take it.
I almost cancel my planned outing. So much going against it: needed car rental, closures, slippery paths, solo trekking, bears! As if that weren't enough, the weather is nasty. You can't see a hill let alone a mountain. It's snowing. Or raining. Or both.
And yet, the forest beckons.
I pick up the bear spray and go to Thrifty Car rentals to get the cheapest car available. I want to breathe that mountain air.
(heading out in bleak weather, no mountains visible...)
I am able to drive into the Park as far as the Taggart Lake trailhead. It's just a half hour on the road from Jackson. I leave the car and head out.
The wet snow (or snowy rain) stops now and the forest is quiet. And it is beautiful.
Aspens, pines, low berry bushes for the bears. But no bears.
(icy brook, icy trail too!)
I do pass the occasional hikers. It's the weekend and the trail to Taggart Lake makes for a nice outing, even if (perhaps especially if) you live in the area.
And this is truly incredible: as I move closer to the Teton range, the clouds open up and I start to actually see the mountains.
Slowly but surely!
By the time I get to the lake, I have the full range before me.
It's a stunning moment! Two other hikers come up as well. We exchange photos. And really, I cannot believe my luck. Once again I think how enormously fortunate I am to be here, in this month, in this moment!
I turn back now.
And clouds roll in again on my retreat...
And by the time I'm on the road, heading back toward Jackson, the mountains slowly hide behind clouds again.
It's early afternoon. I have the car. I decide to take a short drive into that other part of Jackson Hole -- away from the summits and into the grasslands, rolling hills and gorges. Just to look around.
And again I am lucky. Moose on the loose!
When you're on these narrow back roads and you see a car pull off to the side, you know right away they've spotted wildlife. It just never ceases to enchant!
Never gets old!
I drive through the Elk Reserve too, but the few elk I do see are far away and my photos aren't worth posting. And guess what, on these deserted roads, a pickup truck follows me and in a few minutes pulls me over. A Jackson cop! What's with me and driving these days! This time I protest: when it said 30 mph, I slowed down to 30! He explained that the entire passage way through the reserve is 30 mph, whether there are signs saying so or not. You have a Wyoming plate. You're not from here? I am not. It's a rental! Okay then, no ticket this time. Just remember: 30 mph, the whole way. My radar showed you at 45 back there. Thank you and I'm sorry. I didn't know. Shush!
Time to give up the car.
I go for a walk to get coffee in town and though I know Cowboy Cafe is the preferred place, I try a different one today -- CocoLove. It's also a chocolate and pastry shop -- all sweet stuff made by a guy with a reputation (Oscar Ortega). It's a different vibe here.
I get a cookie and a coffee and I'm good for another hour of walking around town, this time with a purpose: to get some t-shirts for the kids. It's always a challenge to get the right one in the right size for the right kid. At first I find only two that I like. In the next shop I add four. Wait, that means one kid is ahead. Must bring up the others so it's equal! Ten t-shirts later, I'm done.
The Rusty Parrot Lodge has a place where you can get a good rubdown after your athletic endeavors and I take advantage of that. Total heaven. And I dont go out at all afterwards. I eat dinner at the hotel restaurant -- the Blue Sage, the place that started me off in the morning.
It's a popular spot! The hotel may be empty this month, but for dinner, the restaurant is full!
I'm seated next to a painting again -- this time one depicting the other side of our country's history: it's of a the stagecoach which linked towns such as Jackson to other settlements in the west. Jackson never had a rail passing through it. The closest one was in Victor, Idaho and that wasn't up and running until 1913. Ranchers needed a way to transport their beef for markets in Omaha and further west. They drove their herds to the nearest depots. But Jackson also needed transport for tourism. At first it wasn't the National Parks that brought people here. From what I hear, tt was the ranches, or more aptly called dude ranches -- opening their doors to visitors who wanted to experience "the western life."
My dinner is very good, albeit funny, considering where I am. I start off with local mushrooms. This is when I take a photo.
The second courses are all meaty. There is duck, but they call it what it is: Long Island duck. And there's an ocean fish. I choose none of it. Instead, I go vegetarian -- roasted carrots and all -- served over an heirloom rice. Local? Not by a long shot: I'm told it's African Tree rice. Delicious! And blue!
And so ends my second and last full day here. I wont quickly forget how enormously lucky I was to see as much as I saw, to take in all that the mountains and the Park have to offer in November.
Tomorrow, I make my way back home.
with love...
