We left SLC, power, and internet, behind and made our way north towards Teton National Park. Evidently, Garmin mapped this region back in the 19th century, as it never seemed to know where we were. Bizarre turn pronouncements came out of the blue that we ignored. We trusted the AAA maps instead. This whole area is filled with scenic byway designations, almost all of them 2 lane twisties dotted with amazing lakes. And then, this unsettling apparition.
Yikes. About a month early and not exactly what we expected. Ou se trouve le metro? Before long, we returned from the twilight zone into familiar territory.
and started climbing again, and again, and again.
We went through the town of Afton, which apparently is the elk slaughter capital of the world.
We saw a lot of “decorations” in this area consisting of entangled antlers, thousands upon thousands of pairs. I guess I understand the need to cull herds, and all that, but I don’t think I could ever be the one to pull the trigger unless I was starving.
Update: reader Joan informs me these are mostly antlers that have been shed and then collected from the ground. Thus, no elk were harmed in the filming of this picture.
We began to follow the Snake River through its beautiful canyon and spied some rafters making their way down the river.
there were some minor rapids below where we had pulled out, but they didn’t prove to be any challenge as all the boats just glided on through.
We pulled into the town of Jackson and a grocery store to restock the larder. Upon leaving, I took a wrong turn, and we ended up in the middle of the tourist trap businesses. Boy, were there a lot of them. More like a Solvang (CA) than a Gatlinburg, but we felt no desire to stop and peruse the western tschotsky shops. I hadn’t realized it before, but there is no such town as Jackson Hole. The Hole refers to the huge valley surrounded by mountain ranges, not to a city. We navigated out of the city and soon were rewarded with our first view of the Teton Range.
I’ve never been here before. Loni was here as a ten year old with her family on one of their infamous death march driving vacations. But for some reason, her memories of this place were particularly strong, so this was something she was very much looking forward to. The Range is not very big. Pretty much what you see here is the entire deal. But, viewing it from different perspectives makes it seem a whole lot bigger and varied, as we were to find out. So gird yourself for multiple views.
We decided to make Colter Bay our campground. It lies on the northeast shore of Jackson Lake, with the Tetons rising like Switzerland on the far (west) side. This is a National Park Service campground, co-run by the rangers and by Xanterra, a private company that has landed the concessions in most of the national parks we have visited. My experience in past years has not been particularly favorable with Xanterra, largely because of sky-high pricing and mediocre food. But that was to change 180 degrees on this trip. Virtually uniformly, we have found the employees to be very friendly and competent, the pricing to be quite reasonable, and the food tasty and somewhat adventuresome. Kudos to a corporate host that is doing it right! And I should mention also that the Park Service rangers and civilian staff have been outstanding. I don’t know how they keep their enthusiasm (and patience) throughout the long season, but they do. They truly are a dedicated bunch. I hope these aren’t phenomena limited to Teton and Yellowstone, but extend throughout the system. Maybe they’ve been Ken Burns-inspired.
Colter campground is oddly configured in that there are no back-in spots, but virtually every campsite is a pullout spot aligned with the road. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but some of the spots are not wide enough to get all the way off the roadway. That was the case with the first site we were assigned, and it was too slanted for us to get anywhere near level. Plus, it was cursed by nearby toy haulers (trailers that double as living quarters and carriers of motorcycles, OHV’s, etc). We generally find these to be noisy bunches, and this group was fitting the stereotype. Back to the entrance, and we got another site without any hassle. This one was level, and the only drawback were the tall pines that came right up to the coach, shading us from the sun we wanted for recharging the batteries with the solar panel. We had hardly settled in when we heard someone call, “Hello Lazy Dazers” from outside. Turned out it was “Steve” from Ohio, whose ‘03 mid-bath was parked in the next loop over. We had a nice chat. He had just come down from Yellowstone and was cautiously limping home with the symptoms of early stage fuel pump failure, apparently a common problem for these Fords. He had just turned 100k miles, so maybe we have a ways to go before it happens to us. We’re at about 34k. We had about a half hour of peace, when a trailer pulled into the spot in front of us, set up, and then started blaring the stereo from their truck cab. What is it with people that just have to have the same noise here in the “wilderness” that they have at their homes? My blood pressure was rising. This kept up until 9:40pm, just under the 10:00 quiet hours cutoff. Good thing, because I was still dressed and ready to hold them to it if they went over.
Our usual breakfasts are cereal and fruit, but we decided that we should finish off the Clarter Farms eggs while still fresh, so we feasted on our first morning in the park, blissfully quiet so far.
I wasn’t about to endure another afternoon/evening concert, and we really did need more sun, so we went back and again changed sites. This time we got one that had no immediate neighbors and got plenty of sun. Space 180, if anybody’s interested.
After settling in, we took a hike around the Colter Bay area, and found the first of many exquisite views of the Tetons at the marina on Jackson Lake.
There’s a nice walking path around the harbor area that provided a lot of views, with this being my favorite. In fact, pretty much the quintessential vista. No wonder Loni has such strong memories of place.
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