Jackson Hole, WY
Elevation: 6,311 ft.

Passing though the plains of western Wyoming tired me out more than I expected. As I hurtled through the endless, almost desert-like landscape I could feel my energy draining from me. I began reflecting through the trip and the realization that it was almost the 2 week mark hit me. My adrenaline was fading and the wear and tear of road tripping was getting to me. I began to reflect on the trip, life, family and friends. I began to follow dangerous rabbit holes and stopped at a dusty old gas station for a piss, luke warm coffee and a clearer mind. Back on the road the metronome of bugs hitting my windshield began to put me to sleep right away - luckily the coffee grinds gave me something to chew on. Suddenly I passed by a road that seemed to continue on into the horizon. A pale, dirty line cut into the endless green and grey of the landscape. It took me 2 miles before the regret welled up inside of me enough to turn around and snap the shot.

Things began to pick up after that. As the elevation continued to climb the towns became scarcer and soon I was surrounded by wildlife refuges of every kind. Signs indicating big game reserves and loose game began popping up. In the distance I could see a giant dust cloud and, given the fact that there were blinking signs everywhere warning of particularly high winds today, I was sure it was going to be my first tornado. But as I got closer I was surprised to see it was just a large band of wild horses. I had never seen so many different colored horses galloping before and was breathless.

Soon after the landscape gave way to scattered peaks covered in dark green pines. In the distance I could see the towering rockies. By that time I had already started vegetating again but the suddenly winding roads demanded a sharper focus from me.

I arrived in Jackson Hole as the sun was starting to set. Relieved that I had a home base again I laid down and began to plan the next couple of days. The mission was of course the Grand Teton and Yellowstone National Parks but first I needed to eat and the place that hit the spot was the local brew pub Snake River Brewery. The beer was good and cold and the food was hot and salty - its what I needed. Looking around I was surrounded by young, outdoorsy people. It was like I had reached an island of people like myself here in western Wyoming.

Today was filled with exploring the Tetons. The Teton range is unlike most ranges in that it lacks foothills. The reason being, per the super informative displays in the super awesome visitor center, that the mountains lay on the hinge of a huge fault line. The west side of the hinge being pushed up to create the ridges and the left part left to fall creating the valley. I also learned that valleys surrounded by ridges were called “holes” by early american trappers and that this particular hole was named after David Edward Jackson, hence, Jackson’s Hole.

The word téton apparently means “breast” in french and the three major peaks were names les trois tétons as a means to keep one’s bearings during trapping. With the steep, unforgiving terrain and weather trappers needed a way to always know where they stood within the valley and these famous peaks served that purpose perfectly.

Traveling through the park on the scenic road I got to know the shapes of the peaks well. In my own way I was working my way around the valley and seeing the changing faces of the mountain. The national park encompasses the land east of the ridges, to see the western side one needs to cross over into Idaho - something I will get to do tomorrow as I climb northwards towards Yellowstone’s west entrance (the south is still closed). During the drive I was able to capture the beautiful peaks from a variety of angles and distances. None short of breathtaking. Here are some trees in front of Cascade Canyon for scale.

At the northern end of the park resides Jackson Lake and it is lined with a number of houses and docks providing access to the water. There is even a dam at the connection between it and the Snake River. Like many of the services along the park road, the Colter Bay Visitor Center was closed for the season but I saw a unique opportunity to photograph the undisturbed, empty waters of the lake.

With nothing but the sounds of my footsteps to disturb the sounds of the water, wind and birds I felt so alone and immersed in the landscape. The air was cool and crisp and the sun was warm. Gazing out across the lake, through the trees and up the stark white ridges I felt like I was gazing into a time machine. I have always felt the levity of places. Physical places can hold so much history in them. Memories, moments, associations, stories - look at the places we have lived and worked. And when I gaze into something as old and unchanged as the tetons I feel this overwhelming sense of connection to times, animals and people I will never know. It is that powerful connection that makes the work that I and every other conservationist worth it. These kinds of places need to be here as long as they can.

As the loop turned back southward the landscape changed back into prairie. There were a number of private ranches still here. The history of Jackson Hole is an interesting one anchored in, like much of Wyoming, the trapping and ranching industries. Plagued with Native American strife and harsh climates. There is a greater history to these mountain states that I never knew and I have come to appreciate the stories behind our states more because of it. Here are some wild, non-ranch Bison resting in front of the iconic mountain range.

Nearing the end of the loop I pulled over and gazed down at the Snake River. A river named after it’s serpentine gestures, it was the life blood to many early settlers as well as to the numerous tribes here. I found a plaque describing an iconic photograph of the river taken by Ansel Adams. Something I didn’t know before exploring museums here in Wyoming was that the early discovery and documentation of these natural areas owed just as much to painters and photographers as they did to cartographers, trappers and scientists. If it wasn’t for Ansel Adams and his predecessors many of these areas would have been lost to development - they captured the undeniable beauty of these fragile lands and made it available to the masses ultimately saving them. As a nod to my fallen homies I made an attempt at recreating his masterpiece.

As I drove out of the park I knew that I would be back. Like many of the places I have blown through during this road trip, I was left with a burning desire for more. I found solace in the fact that, for the next few years or so, I will be working hard to make a place for myself out here in the west. I know I have a lot ahead of me to work on and to work for and as I watched the peaks disappear in my rear view mirror I knew that I had more reason than ever.

Chris