Everybody has one or two places that make them really truly happy. Grant’s two places are Whistler and Jackson Hole. The whole ride up the day before, he chatted in an animated manner and his whole face lit up whenever he spoke of it. You could just tell it was his happy place. And he was so excited to show me his favorite mountain.
The next morning we peaked outside the window and discovered that the snow someone had promised at the bar had not fallen. So we rolled over and went back to sleep, we were in no hurry. After an additional hour, it was finally time. Grant also knew of a great shack-on-the-side-of-a-building momo/burrito place called D.O.G. (Down on Glen), that was the local’s favorite. You could get a giant egg, tots, sausage, salsa, and cheese burrito. It was delicious and way too big for one meal. Grant stuck the rest in his pocket for later, a very smart move since food on the hill is ridiculously expensive.
When we got there we headed up to check out the Mountaineering National Championships that had taken place that morning. Grant had competed in last year’s competition and wanted to see the last few competitors coming in. He pointed out the ultra lightweight Dynafit alpine touring gear and spandex just about everyone else had been sporting. Apparently he had raced in his everyday PBR skis and normal green outfit and was not nearly as serious as everyone else (as he pointed out that his time included a waffle stop during the course of the race).
After we got our passes we were lucky enough to get on the new tram that they had built in 2008 to replace the original that has stood since 1966. When they retired the old tram in 2006, I had wanted to go to Jackson Hole then and ride it on one of its farewell voyages, but alas, no one else wanted to go. Everyone was poor and just out of college.
The mountain was beautiful and I was excited to be going up. Grant has kept saying, once I saw the mountain in all its glory, I too would fall madly in love with it.
There were only two problems with that prediction. 1) It was weird misty weather, warm on the bottom, and fierce windstorm on top. No visibility past the immediate ridge. 2) I was tired. After 6 days of skiing hard (4 in a row, this being #5), my muscles were exhausted. Graduate school had done me a great disservice as far as being prepared for a ski trip. For the final month I had been so busy and over extended with school, work, and moving. I hadn’t had time to go running, just an occasional yoga class to keep things stretched out and my sanity. That day they had had enough and my body started to shut down.
Poor Grant had to deal with me skiing ridiculously poorly. In addition the lack of visibility, it was giving me vertigo, where I didn’t know if I was skiing or standing. At one point I told Grant to go off without me and leave me for a while at the Casper lodge, where I tried to load up on sugar and all the caffeine a hot chocolate would provide. It did not help. Finally after a few laps, Grant came in and had lunch. I slept at the table while he ate. It was sad, my body seemed to have rejected skiing for the day.
Magically at 2pm, something happened (sugar?) and my body suddenly woke up. Grant and I headed out to the Saratoga Bowl to find some good snow in the trees. It was far enough that the there was still soft snow, and low enough in elevation to be out of the clouds and out of the wind. It was perfect. Grant and I would bound down the mountain, him whooping and hollering in his happy place, and my legs finally working. We just about finished up all our remaining time on the mountain in that corner. I was finally awake and wished that we now had more time to ski.
We did one lift up to the gondola so I could get a better view before skiing down and with perfect timing catching the bus back to town. This time we made it to the Million Dollar Cowboy steak house in time to get the awesome burger&beer deal. Afterwards we headed back to the Snow King Resort to hot tub and for Grant to pack. Our time together was growing short as he had to fly home the next morning.
It was an imperfect day and one that I don’t consider as having given Jackson Hole a fair shake. A real Jackson Hole ski day will have to be saved for another day. I can only hope to have as great and patient of a guide as Grant again. I had a feeling when I am ready the mountain would be waiting and ready for me.
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