Jackson 2

A quick recap: I am in Jackson. At the Rusty Parrot Lodge. I'd show you the view from my window, except that it was dark when I arrived yesterday and it is still dark when I leave it this morning. Here's why:

In a striking confluence of events, I learned that I would benefit from taking three Delta flights this year still, and I learned this on the same day that I watched the movie Grizzly 399 - Queen of the Tetons, which happened to be just a day before I read in the paper that the bear featured in the film had been struck by a vehicle. She died just a few miles from Jackson. (If you haven't seen the movie, I highly recommend it -- stream it on PBS, though there is now that element of tragedy since we now know how her life ends.) I mention this because one almost has to believe that some strange forces propelled me to be in Jackson right now. (I do not believe in strange forces, but it sure does feel that I was somehow destined to come here.) Go to the Grand Tetons! Just go! 

So I came.

In reading more about the death of Bear 399, I learned about her incredible popularity not only among the tourists (she didn't like people, but she understood that they offered a distinct form of protection from other predatory bears and so she came relatively close to them), but also among the locals. I followed a link from one article to two such locals -- Gina and Jack, who together offer a more intimate look at the Teton wildlife via their small scale outfit (it's just the two of them) that they call Team399.  

I thought what they put together was perfect for me: a day's exploration of the Park with a focus on nature and the animals who live here (if we're lucky to see them). They know the place inside out. (As Jack says -- this Park is my church. These animals are my family.) I don't need to rent a car. We'll head out together, rain or shine.

They said they would pick me up at 6:45.

Here's another quote from Ansel Adams: “A good photograph is knowing where to stand.” Gina and Jack -- a photographer himself -- know where to stand. They know where and when the herds of bison roam. They know why the grizzlies are abandoning the forests of the Tetons (drought, not enough food). They know about the struggle to have Wyoming folk and wealthy newcomers spend money on hiding their trash so that the bears quit coming in contact with developments. They know this stuff.

At 6:40, we are off.

Rain or shine?  Jackson Hole is more likely to have snow cover the summits in late November. And indeed, in the Grand Teton Park, there is a solid base of the white stuff already. Many of the roads are closed. But I got super lucky. Not only isn't it a wet day, it's also a relatively cloud-free day. I'm thinking: I may not see many animals, but I will see the mountains.

They have a cup of coffee and a muffin for me (local? -- I asked... from Idaho! -- they tell me. They live just across the border), but I save it for later. I'm focused on the drive right now.

What follows next is a run through a sampling of my photographs from this outing. We went on back-roads, dirt roads, all kinds of half-roads, with Gina's binoculars and phone consultations with a buddy photographer who is also roaming the Park today, alone, with his camera -- to help us along.

(the first sighting is always exciting! here: a moose)

(and another, against a backdrop of Tetons at dawn)

(an elk heard, hiding!)

(oh those mountains!)

(moose, almost hidden by the tall brush)

(sky still pink as the rays hit the summit)

(here, I think the moose take a back seat to the now sun drenched mountain tops)

(This is John Mouton's barn -- he was a homesteader who raised cattle here until this land became a National Park; he remained on the land until he died at age 103 in 1990.)

(an elk herd, trying to decide whether to cross the road... we pulled over and watched as they went back and forth, changing their mind every time they got spooked by a car or by who knows what...)

(leader of the pack: "should we go now?" "no!")

(we leave them to their big decision; our movement spooks them of course..)

(a field of bison: their herds have grown tremendously here...)

(we woke this poor coyote from a nap by the side of the dirt road!)

(this has to be my favorite photo of the day!)

(the herd)

(Lake Jackson)

(the shelter here is open for bathroom use; it's where I also have Jack and Gina's coffee and muffin)

(a swarm of redhead ducks)

(always, the Great Tetons...)

(close to Jackson now -- a buck)

(aspens)

 

 

I have to say, my stomach does not like rough twisty roads, especially when I'm turned toward the side window to keep my eyes glued to the landscape. As the morning progressed, the wild animals retreated and there were few enough that I felt confident by noon that I had reached my limit! 

The downside of all this expedition (if you can call it a downside) is that we did not walk much at all. You need to cover a large terrain to be successful in spotting wildlife. Walking, waiting -- those are an animal photographer's best friends, but if you want to raise your odds of finding animals in a short period of time (and a morning is a short period of time) -- you need to drive. 

With this in mind, I decided tomorrow to do a one day car rental, so that I can get a more intimate feel for the forest, the mountains here by walking some of the Park's trails. This is going to be a challenge, because I asked a lot of local people (at the front desk, at the car rental place, in the coffee shop, at the photo gallery... etc) what would be good hikes without snowshoes for tomorrow and they had very strong and very different opinions on this. I combined some and I have a plan. For tomorrow.

I was in my room shortly after noon. Well, actually not in my room, but in a different room. The vent was emitting strange noises and they quickly changed me to the other side of the building. I was amused that the art work here depicted something very familiar to me!

Cranes!

I sat down on the big comfy chair with the snuggly blanket and a teddy bear (each room comes with that) and I fell asleep.

Later, I went out for my "walk" -- such as it is! I went to the car rental place and then I stopped by a handful of local shops with local wares. 

 

 

There are a lot of them and of course, they're standing empty in the off-off season. It gave me a chance to talk to some of the people who call Jackson home.

 

 

I had already gotten a bit of the background from Jack and Gina. About how hedge fund managers love Wyoming and how easy it is here to purchase a "home" for them and to declare it their place, so that their millions are not subject to state taxes (Wyoming has no individual or corporate income tax). About the ranches that can no longer raise the beef to feed the American taste for a good cheap steak. [Unless specified as Wyoming beef, the ones offered in restaurants usually comes from South America. Jack laughed when I said I saw elk on the menu. That's not ours, you know. It's from New Zealand. You cant hunt and sell wild elk here.] And yes, I read about how votes are cast here in elections. Jackson's blue (Teton County: Harris, 65.8%, all the remaining counties -- at least that much for Trump, sometimes quite a bit higher). But I needed to listen to a smattering of other voices and I found that at this time, with so few tourists here, most were happy to take the time to talk. About aspects of life here at the foot of these mountains.

Of course, where better to do some more listening than at the local coffee shop. I finally have something that resembles lunch (granola and yogurt!). And a solid cup of coffee.

 

(would you call hers a cowboy hat?)

(and back to my lovely little lodge)

Dinner tonight is at the Blue Lion. 

 

 

Again there is elk on the menu. Ha! And beef. And Idaho trout. And duck. Let's go with duck. (I ask the waiter where the duck is from and he says -- Idaho. I swear I would have passed if he had said Lake Jackson.)

Evening. Finally, quiet and restful. No need to set the alarm for tomorrow, no need to rush in the morning. I saw bison by the Tetons. Everything else is frosting on an already good cake.

with love...

Jackson 1

 Prologue

I've walked with a camera slung around my neck for a very long time now. When I was barely an adult, I used to aspire to a level of technical competence that matched the pros. You know how when you're young, your ambitions outpace your everyday reality. Nevertheless, I subscribed to photography magazines, and regularly ogled equipment in a neighborhood camera store in New York (when I lived there), and signed up for a film developing course in college the minute my guidance counselor told me I should expand my horizons. I think she intended to steer me to literature and maybe art history. Instead, I learned how to print photos. And I bought a book at some discount bookstore that was a collection of photos taken by a guy whom I'd never heard of -- Ansel Adams. I'd just landed in America. I knew so little about American icons back then.

Ansel Adams (1902- 1984) was a brilliant landscape photographer and environmentalist (words attributed to him: “It is horrifying that we have to fight our own government to save the environment”), and as I'm sure you know, he was especially famous for his photos of the National Parks. If you google which one of his pictures had the highest selling price, you'll learn that it was a photo titled "The Grand Tetons and the Snake River" and it sold not too long ago for just about a million dollars.

I saw the Grand Tetons, very quickly, on a drive through when I was just 10 years old. We had recently moved from Poland to New York for my dad's UN job and my parents decided we should do a road trip across the country. We saw the USA in our Chevrolet (older readers, remember that commercial?), only it wasn't ours, it was borrowed from the Polish Delegation.

I've wanted to go back for a long time, but my reluctance to drive long distances or, in the alternative, the complicated flights that you have to take to get there, have kept me away. Too, the place is expensive! (Remember my discussion of this with the Urgent Care doc over the weekend?)

But all this notwithstanding, I am going for the weekend, a long weekend, to Jackson.

Now how did that come to pass? Well, for reasons that are ridiculously hard to explain and make sense of, I needed to take a few short flights this year to qualify for a lifetime of benefits from my chosen preferred airline. They're making it more difficult to reach that "lifetime" level (and it does pay to have it if you travel as often as I do), but they've created a path just this one last time and I qualify, but I need to take a handful of flights before the end of the year. My criteria? Short, cheap, and to a place that I really want to see in this country. I was trying to decide where to go just as I was flying home with Snowdrop from Florida. I turned on a movie about a grizzly bear in Teton National Park and my first reaction was -- what a great story and my second reaction was -- I want to go there. 

Jackson is three short-ish flights from Madison, and November is a terrible month to go there because it's the only month where everything shuts down: the summer/autumn season is done (it's cold!), and the winter/spring season has not yet started (not cold enough?). The prices for lodging are at their very lowest.

 

The Trip

And so this morning, I drive in the dark, past snow-dusted landscapes and catch a 6:25 a.m. flight to Minneapolis. 

 (breakfast at MSP)

From there, I'm to take a late morning flight to Salt Lake City. Home to the 2034 Olympic Games!

That second flight was a near disaster, as the scheduled plane had mechanical issues. We were lining up to board and suddenly the pilot takes the mic and tells us that the plane is being hauled to a warehouse far away. You have to accept that this does happen. However, it is safe to say that had they not found a replacement plane to take us to Salt Lake City, my entire plan for the weekend would have collapsed. But, miracles do happen and they "just happened" to have one standing idly at another gate. A big sigh of relief there!

Salt Lake City -- with the beautiful landscape on the approach.

Last time I was at this airport? When I went to pick up my mother in California (2018). We flew back through Salt Lake City. She did not crack a smile the whole long trip back to Madison. 

Finally -- I take a late afternoon quick flight to Jackson. With a landing at 4:48pm Mountain Time, I'm calculating this to be an 11+ hour trip. Like to Europe! Only less time in the air. 

The approach here is so interesting -- Snake River and all! -- that I stick my Kindle into the backseat pocket and concentrate on the view.

 

And then we disembark at the world's tiniest airport. I'm so focused on my surroundings that I forget all about my Kindle. It remains on the airplane as we speak.

Jackson, Wyoming

Until recently, I (along with many others), thought Jackson was actually called Jackson Hole. It turns out Jackson is the town (population, would you believe it, just 10,639, making it the 9th largest city in very sparsely populated Wyoming). It rests within the Hole, which is the valley. 

I remembered it as sort of a cowboy town. Even back in 1963 -- the year of my drive-through, it looked almost like a movie set for a western. The Tetons that are just to the north reminded me of the Polish Tatra mountains and I could not fathom how cowboys and ranches and stagecoach setups fit into this gloriously wild and mountainous landscape.  Shouldn't there be chalets instead?

Well, Jackson caters to both: the dude ranch aficionados and the mountain lovers. For example, my hotel, the Rusty Parrot  (which reopened this summer, after a devastating fire in November 2019, started by an outdoor fireplace) looks like this:

 

 

 

My room has artwork with a nod to the horse and a nod to the elk.

 

 

For me the draw is of course the Grand Teton National Park -- just five miles north of Jackson. Maybe you know that Yellowstone National Park is also not too far -- some 125 miles to the north. Yellowstone was America's very first National Park (established in 1872). Grand Teton National Park was created in 1929 -- which has to be  an incredible act of optimism, given our country's tough times then. I'm here only for the weekend. I can't do two parks (though as a kid, I did "do" both in just two days!). I'm focusing on the Tetons.

Not today of course. It's dark now, but I walk over to the town square, just to see it now, so many years later.

(The town square is lined with shops that definitely bring out the cowboy vibe; note the great neon. But, too, there's that recognition that we're about a mile away from the National Elk Refuge and of course the National Parks. Note the elk horn "gate" to the square. Finally, did I mention that Jackson is also a winter ski destination? Can you tell?)

I'd asked my innkeepers (many days ago!) for restaurant recommendations. It's not that I expected the eateries to be booked up. Quite the contrary: many are closed for a month. This month. I go now to a place called Gather. The photos on the website looked rather beefy, and indeed the menu features many incarnations of Wyoming beef, but this is true of many (most?) eateries here. Feeding the image of a cowboy town, where you come to chow down chunks of the herd. I'll have to decide whether to break down and join the steak-hungry crowds at some point (I actually do not dislike a good steak, unfortunately, even if I never have it in our kitchen back home). At Gather, you can also get plates with elk or bison. No thanks. I've come here to (maybe) look at these wild animals, not eat them. 

I order trout. Idaho, less than twenty miles to the west of Jackson, sends a lot of trout to Wyoming. I see this fish on nearly every menu in Jackson.

(And a special thanks to my lovely hotel staff, who are friendly in the extreme, and who gave me the secret local code that gets me a diner discount at Gather tonight! What is it? I can't tell you! It's secret! Note that I have Annie Proulx book of Wyoming stories on the table. It was nothing short of fortuitous that for once I brought with me a real book in addition to my Kindle. I thought I'd get my eyes out of the screen for a few days...)

The restaurant is full of locals. We tourists always manage to stand out in the way we dress, talk, behave. I would be surprised if there was a single other outsider there tonight aside from me. And yes, that pic on the wall is... jarring. Other artwork depicts animals. To my relief.

I need sleep. I had very little of it last night and tomorrow -- well, I have a fragmented but extensive walk and for it to be good, it has to start very early. 

Good night from the wild west. Thank goodness that we haven't yet felt compelled to conquer every last bit of it in one way or another!

with love...

November snow

It's rare to see snow in November these days. Okay, let's rephrase that: in our increasingly snow-less winters, we are especially unlikely to see snow in the last weeks of Autumn. And yes, this is a marked difference from years gone by. I remember when I moved to Wisconsin, part of the Thanksgiving ritual was to take a walk before getting started on dinner. The landscape was often snow-covered and beautiful. Currier & Ives stuff. That was then (forty-five years ago). These days kids can't even count on snow for winter break.

Nonetheless, today it snowed. Not significantly, and not early on. Indeed, there's sunshine to start us off!

Now that we no longer have a drought, sunlight in the morning is very lovely indeed.

But I do have a list of things to accomplish and on that list is picking up more croissants and breads from Madison Sourdough (downtown).

I know that many in France cannot survive without their daily croissant in the morning, but I'll say this: if you quit that addiction for a few days (because honestly, granola or oatmeal are much healthier), then when you do return to your beloved buttery crescent roll (especially with homemade blueberry jam!), you are in heaven.

I have done my final potted plant transport for over-wintering at the farmhouse. (Additionally, I'm over-wintering the giant orchids in the sheep shed.) Our windowsills are full! Not all will thrive, but I expect all will survive until next spring. A few images for you:

The rest of the morning is spent on organizing the farmhouse so that things run smoothly and Ed eats healthily in my absence. I'm going away tomorrow for a much anticipated "walk." I planned that walk for Friday, but I need a chunk of Thursday (i.e. tomorrow) to get there. 

And pretty quickly it's 1:45 -- the time I have to leave to pick up the kids at school (it's a bit of a drive from here).

And this is when the snow flurries arrive. Are you near kids (anybody's kids!) when the first snow of the year hits the great outdoors? You know the excitement then. I think it rivals the arrival of Santa Claus!

It's the scheduled after school ice cream day, which I suppose makes no sense, except that kids don't find the mix of snow outside and ice cream inside to be odd.

And in the evening, the flakes grow in size, landing niftly on the kids' hair, their jackets. You'd think they'd been poured over with chocolate. Squeals of glee!

 

I'm home again. With soup ready for us now. All it needs is a few minutes in the microwave and a generous hand with the grated cheese. On the couch, sorting through thirty free days of Paramount Plus on our "big screen." So happy to be here. But also thinking about my walk, not here. On Friday. More on that tomorrow.

With love...

Tuesday, seize it!

First, the blue paragraphs, to be passed over if you do not want to hear another word about America's election.

Have I stopped thinking about/talking about it? Of course not. But I have moved to thinking more about a long trajectory of events, of the recurrence of seemingly weird election results. It goes something like that: capitalism (or, to use a less loaded term -- a market economy) has to produce inequality. No, I'm not saying that other systems are necessarily preferable, and yes it's obvious that there will be gradations, but just stay with me on this basic point: there will be inequality under a free market economy. It's a given.

If that's the case, in democratic elections the governing party can always be trumped (pardon the expression, it's not altogether intentional) by the one sidelined in the previous election, if that sidelined party usurps the argument of inequality and makes it their own, laying blame on the governing leadership for all that's not yours to have.  Nothing is required except that they convince those with fewer resources that their situation is dire. Not hard considering that there are plenty who are doing better than you or me.

But the conclusion seems to be that capitalism will (more often than not) unseat even the most competent leadership (I'm not passing judgment on our president here) in favor of a replacement. And so we have to cycle through like this, knocking down even the best systems/programs/structures, because you'll always find those who will be convinced that nothing good will come of staying the course. Because they're suffering (relatively or for real), while others are not.

The demand for an overhaul, for an about face -- it wont be the last one. There will always be another so long as there is inequality. Which, as I said, is a given. I suppose for the Democrats, the consolation is that two can play the game and the pendulum will swing once again. Eventually. Unless we all implode from exacerbated inequalities in the meantime (and from poor governance because of course there's that to worry about), because frankly, our wealth disparities are ridiculous, even though I myself can't see any value in shooting yourself in the foot and wrecking programs that help you, but maybe that's just me. You have to admire the optimism behind a desire to wreck everything just to see what happens next.

Here's a fun fact, related to wealth inequality, but I promise you, having nothing to do with the election: when I was visiting my Urgent Care doc this weekend, as I noted here, we talked about travel. Venice, yes that. But also US travel. I mentioned my theoretical love for National Parks (theoretical because I dont like the fact that they are over-loved and thus extremely crowded in places, and wild and difficult to access in other places -- those where Ed would like to hike and pitch a tent). I told him how I had once, as a little girl, looked up and saw the Grand Tetons and how I was instantly smitten. He laughed at that and said -- do you know that Wyoming (home of the Grand Tetons) is now a favorite destination for the rich and famous? That they have plunked down mansions and ranches there worth millions?

I almost didn't believe him. Wyoming, the Tetons -- aren't these places wild and beautiful? I googled a simple thing: what famous people have homes in Jackson? (Jackson is at the foot of the Tetons, so I would guess that's where everyone likes to go.) And lo! I get this: Sandra Bullock, Kanye West and Kim Kardashian, Harrison Ford. Bill Gates. Matthew McConaughey, Natalie Portman. Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Uma Thurman, Bratt Pitt. The list goes on.

Oh. My. Word.

I had no idea. It's the usual: expansive land, away from crowds, low taxes or no taxes. This morning, still under the quilt, with Ed there, I say to him -- do you know that Wyoming is the place to live if you're super rich and famous? He responds -- there are a lot of rich and famous people in this country. They probably live all over. Let's see which of the rich and famous live in Wisconsin. We google it. The list includes no one that either of us has ever heard of.

Outside? Wet from all that rain. Not too cold -- which tells me I should seize the day and do outdoor work because it is about to become really cold and it will stay cold going forward, for several weeks. Maybe the whole winter.

Does that look dreary? Let me throw in some breakfast flowers to brighten your day.

And something that will make you smile: chickens slurping leftover spaghetti!

Ed "joins" me for breakfast, but much later. We talk about the weather because we have a hard time scheduling outdoor work when the forecasts do not give us anything good to work with. Wet and not too cold today, but cold and not too wet tomorrow. And the next day. Oh, and add gusty winds and freezing temperatures that will kill the rest of the annuals and grasses outside next week. You think it's bare out there now? At least we still have spots of color. And even the occasional bloom.

(in the meadow)

It will end in a couple of days. I have my winter jacket on the ready.

By noon, we very much have the feeling that it's now or never. Ed digs out the one big and beautiful artichoke plant (he thinks he can overwinter it in the basement -- ever the gardening optimist!). I get on the tractor-mower to go over the places where leaves have covered the grasses. Mowing in November shreds and mulches everything. Honestly, it's my least favorite project -- the tractor-mower smells, bounces incessantly, and makes noise. But it has to be done and yeah, by kid pick up time I am finished!

 

The kids are with me this afternoon. Nothing new there. Well, one is more grumpy than the other. I'm not sure why. It could well be that when one is having an especially good week, the other one feels especially vulnerable. (Sort of like in the general population, don't you think?)

Still, they play/read/eat nicely at the farmhouse. The car ride is a bit testy though and I am tempted to insist on a period of classical music listening, except that they both seem to need to talk through their issues in life, and so in the end I let them go at it.

 

Home. I need to make some soup tonight. It's that kind of a day. Veggie soup, with cannelloni beans, sprinkled with grated parmesan. Mmmmm....