NOTE: this post was supposed to be published in september 2023 but stayed in my draft folder without me noticing. it’s too good to waste.
i forgot how much i adore jackson. i adore the wooden boardwalks around the square, the ridiculous shoot-out on the town square, the neon of the million dollar cowboy bar and the proximity to national parks and breathtaking mountains. i love exploring specialty shops, kitsch gift shops, gorgeous art galleries, finding the best pizza and the new taco/tequila restaurant just off the square. i love it all. i am willing to pay extra to feel like a tourist. on vacation but secretly feeling like a local and pshaw pshawing the city folk in their brand new jeans and boots and fancy cowboy hat that no cowboy would every wear. i love finding what’s new, and seeing if i can still find my old favorites. from bagels to sushi, jackson has it all. i cherish my visits, and love all my experiences there:
- the winter i came solo to a jewelry show but also caught a hockey game and an old-fashioned horse drawn wagon through the elk herds on the refuge just outside of town. i knew it was a trick, but i fell for it anyway. the wool blankets folded over our laps, the handsome driver in a buttoned up wool coat and wool hat. n-o-s-t-a-l-g-i-a. i could have been an 18th century widow crossing the plains instead of a runaway girl just looking for a getaway. i can still remember the sunshine (sooo strategic) in the frigid sky, the baby buffalo frolicing among the elk, the huge draft horses with frost at their nostrils. i must have looked like a crazy tourist person with my permagrin and enthusiasm for all the pretty details. i took picture after picture trying to capture all the senses, so i wouldn’t forget, but also trying to concentrate on the moment and not the disappointment of having to leave it. i finally cozied up to bridget jones back at the elk refuge inn when it became too dark and cold outside for further adventure. frostbitten, but happy.
2. the summer of 2023 when taylor and i came for some wild adventure. we packed as much in as we could for three days. this is the kind of list we like to make:
- two campgrounds, 4 huckleberry cocktails, 3 tacos, one perfect pair of gold earrings, 14 thunderbursts, 1 boat ride, 1 gondola, 2 bingo cards, 27 bald eagles, 1 geyser, 2 national parks and 2 pretty summer dresses…
it was a silly trip and the tourists irked us (how dare they?). we forgot to take a classic tourist photo of taylor in front of the town square arches, but that regret is so small i already forgot. somehow we stayed dry and had a great time, eating yogurt and drinking starbucks in our tent in the morning. trying to decide what to do and when and trying not to run out of time and memories too fast.
and 3. living here in the 90s as a very young 20+ year-old girl. i wouldn’t go snowboarding with my friends because ‘i would break my ankle’ and ‘i don’t have health insurance’ when really i was just afraid of failure. a semi-public and very expensive failure. i mean this was jackson hole and i didn’t have any gear. this was before i realized how empowering it is to get your ass kicked every once in a while. i remember my attic room in the log cabin home just blocks from the square. i remember my vw breaking down all winter-it was a simple fix ultimately, but it stranded me 4 or 5 times. i remember the sorels i bought to walk the 3 miles to work and back each night. at first dreading the walk but later turning down rides and preferring to walk in the frozen night. i really just remember being too young to appreciate the town. i don’t think i even drove out to see the tetons in the year i lived there.
whatever the reason or the season, i love it there. i can find something fun to do in a haystack, so i put on my eternally optimistic blinders and keep going despite the crowds, the prices, the motel 6 and the lack of fair low-income housing. i stubbornly only see the jewels in the steaming piles of dung that make up today’s jackson hole, wyoming.
my bluebird skies 