Jackson, WY (Part I)

It was Saturday and we were on the road again for the Grand Tetons in Wyoming. The landscape rose and fell with red rocks and green fields; an occasional buffalo cut-out made a silhouette on a hovering cliff. We came to a little town called Lander. It was right on the highway and seemed to pull in all those passing through. We found great lunch and conversation (among humans and dogs) at the Gannett Grill.

Some more long, music-filled, reflective driving through the hills as we marveled at the scenery. But nothing could prepare us for the majesty of the Tetons. As we approached the mountains, the clouds encroached and raindrops pattered at our windows. The Tetons were obscured with the sun so hidden, but this was our first chance to take in their presence. We got out of the car. Just then, a cloud was split by the fury of lightning--a perfect bolt thrown at the ground. One Mississippi, two Mississippi...

The thunder was godly. Awesome in the word's purest meaning. The roar built and grew and expanded throughout the valley, each wave bouncing off a different face of the mountain. It was a thirty-second bellow of nature testing her limits.

We left the mountains for our motel, reassured by our decision to spend another day with the Tetons to fully grasp her depths. The rain had settled in for the evening, but we committed to exploring Jackson's town square. Hungry and thirsty, we searched for the liveliest dining place. A bustle of people and the sound of live music drew us towards the Silver Dollar Bar & Grill. This was the absolute best. People were packed in, waiting for a table or a bar stool as a trio of musicians stomped and strummed and twanged and sung. Coupled got up to swing and dip and promenade around the dance floor. We couldn't get enough! The band, Br'er Rabbit, fueled by our energy stomped and twanged even harder; their fingers hot with friction and bodies electric with energy. This was Jackson. This was the West.

A solid beginning for our two-part Jackson adventure.