outpostjh

Bigger isn’t always better when it comes to Jackson’s latest dessert craze. Meet Nom Nom donuts, purveyor of simple Americana sweetness, the everyman’s dessert shop on wheels with a well deserved cult following. Melissa Mattson is the woman with serious business acumen behind the adorable airstream trailer’s window, and she is a tiny, energetic, devious dessert genius.

“I make fun, happy snacks… I enjoy making them,” Melissa tells us.  Melissa grew up in Bend, Oregon, where she soaked in the eclectic Pacific Northwest food truck scene.  After moving to Jackson, Melissa noticed the food truck culture hadn’t quite reached our little mountain town, so she decided to seize the opportunity to enter this niche and undoubtedly cool market. Pastry, and particularly donuts, appealed to Melissa as an outlet for her culinary creativity. So, she set out to provide the valley with sweet treats, and began looking for an old airstream trailer in need of a little TLC.

Melissa loves “the eclectic, artsy look of an airstream,” which suits her own personality and complements her quirky donut flavors. To turn the worn down, well loved old trailer she found on Craigslist into her current glimmering kitchen on wheels, Melissa solicited a little help from three friends: Kevin, Google, and YouTube.  With #VanLife trending on her Instagram, she completely restored its exterior and gutted and rebuilt the interior.  Now a self made master of the power drill, Melissa has restored a second airstream completely solo.

Nom Nom’s entire production takes place in the larger, original vehicle (think commercial mixers, butcher block tables, and fryers, all in an extremely confined space) and the smaller one can be found selling happy bites at JH Live, the Farmer’s Market, and other community events. Additionally, Nom Nom can be booked for private catering, and provides the mot deliciously awesome delivery service in the Valley, serving up made to order donuts 7 days a week to your home or office.

Monday morning is just better when enjoyed with a maple bacon donut made with real Vermont maple syrup and candied bacon. Be warned, the classic birthday cake donut’s kitschy sprinkles might turn the fussiest dessert traditionalist into a finger licking, frosting-covered kid again. Relish the apple fritter, share the huckleberry donut holes with the whole family, and look out for seasonal additions like Melissa’s favorite creation- a cake doughnut with lemon zest glaze and fresh Teton blueberries.

Melissa is a mountain biker and snowboarder when she is not covered in dough, and she dreams of expanding the food truck culture in Jackson, introducing locals and visitors alike to a lovably offbeat culinary scene that is mobile, versatile, and outright fun.  The old Shakespearean adage holds true when it comes to Melissa, her airstream, and her outstanding donuts: “though she be but little, she is fierce.”

A pebble rolls down the dirt path, followed by another, and another. The thick sound of tire treads gets closer, then a quick squeal on a brake pad. Seconds later, a mountain biker screams by, hunched down over his handlebars, navigating the steep terrain as if he’s floating, grinning from ear to ear. This familiar scene can be found all over Jackson, where the tight knit mountain biking community takes full advantage of more than 125 miles of trails as soon as the snow gives way to first dirt. But you won’t find a rowdy group of disrespectful riders here – in fact, you’re likely to see a biker hop off in the midst of a ride to let a hiker go by, and if you eavesdrop at the bar after a ride, you’ll hear chatter of trail etiquette and how to pass it on to the next generation of riders.

This unique stewardship of the trail system sits deep within the community. Along with avid hikers and horseback riders, these are the same people who show up for dig days – whether it’s a Saturday or a Monday – ready to give their free time to heavy manual labor to improve a single berm turn or dig all day to extend a trail by five feet. It’s the true essence of the phrase, “labor of love.”

Chris Owen, a self-proclaimed “trail dork” who also happens to be the trails program manager at the local nonprofit Friends of Pathways, sees this labor of love firsthand. His professional life is currently dedicated to the new Skyline Trail, a dream for some that’s a decade in the making. Skyline is the long-awaited 6.31-mile long Snow King ridge trail that will contour 6 peaks, providing users with stunning views of the frontcountry terrain. Since the approval of the trail, Owen has led two community-based dig days at each end of the trail to break ground. More than 150 people have showed up for the digs, spending eight or more back-breaking hours launching pickaxes over their heads. Exactly how back-breaking? “Last weekend was one of the easier sections of the trail,” Owen says of the latest community dig. “We were traversing around the second peak where there’s a nice, flat bench. We did .72 miles with 50 volunteers.”

That’s right. Less than one mile was dug in a full day with more than 50 volunteers, and Owen is stoked on the progress. He points out that with a full time trail crew of eight, ideal digging would allow them to do about one mile in a week. “You could slow that down to digging 200 feet a day if it’s really steep side hill,” he says. In other words, trail digging is no walk in the park.

So why do people do it? Katherine Dowson, the executive director for Friends of Pathways, says it’s about appreciation. “You can donate to a trail, walk a trail – but to put some sweat equity in it helps to understand what it takes to build a trail and keep it maintained. People have the satisfaction of remembering working on a particular corner. It takes a village, and it doesn’t happen overnight.” Dowson says the dig days bring together different generations on a common task they can feel proud of, with participants ranging from age 2 all the way up to people in their 70’s – everybody wants to tame the dirt.

For the Skyline Trail, there’s another reason people are so passionate about breaking ground. More than a decade ago, local recreation and conservation advocate Luke Lynch dreamed of having a ridgeline trail. When his brother, Matt, died in a cycling accident in 2008, Luke pursued the development of the Skyline Trail even more actively as a way to honor his brother. In large part due to the hard work Luke put in, the trail was finally approved in May of 2015. Only days later, Luke died in an avalanche.

People heal in different ways, and the case of the Lynch brothers, many have looked to the Skyline Trail as a way to grieve and heal. On the first dig day, many of Luke and Matt’s friends and family members participated. “He had a huge impact on the community,” Owen remembers of Luke. “It shows how many people he touched.” There will be a plaque on the trail in memory of both Lynch brothers.

Community is perhaps the most important word to describe the effort and teamwork it takes to get a trail built and approved in a town like Jackson. Long before the first biker rides a trail from end to end, and well before the first dig day takes place, a new trail has to be welcomed by all members of the community. “In Jackson, there’s always hurdles because everybody cares so much about our public lands here,” explains Dowson of the four-year approval process for the Skyline Trail. “It brings people to the table who have different opinions. It can take longer, but ultimately the end goal is good.”

Community is also at the core of what the trail will stand for. Along with mountain biking, the trail is being designed for hiking and horseback riding as well. During the planning process, Friends of Pathways took the priority of each user group into account. “Horseback riders want a nice, wide corridor so they have plenty of line of sight,” says Owen. “For hikers, we’ve found they tend to cut lower angle bike trails with switchbacks, so we thought we’d include steeper sections for them. And for bikes, making the turns navigable is important.”

While there won’t be any more community dig days simply because of the time required to get to the digging zone at this point, Friends of Pathways have hired the Montana Conservation Corps (MCC) to finish the work. “Building with a machine is quicker and more cost-effective,” Owen points out. “But a big part of this trail is that we wanted it to be a community event.” The MCC is made up of eight young adults and two leaders who will live up on the ridge for six weeks. Building the trail this way allows for Friends of Pathways to include youth crews and keep the trail primarily hand-built.

Anticipation of the finished trail will pepper people’s dreams and fuel conversation around town until its grand opening in September. Dowson can’t wait for people to be able to have a backcountry experience without having to travel so far. “There’s views and perspectives up there that most people probably haven’t seen,” she says. “It’s a different way of looking down and across to the Tetons.” And when it’s complete? “I’d love to have a big party,” she laughs, barely holding in her excitement. Again, ensuring the community remains the focus.   

To learn more about the Skyline Trail project, or the diversity of work completed and underway by Friends of Pathways, visit their website. 

As the first sun of August rises, the hulking shadows of the Sleeping Indian and Jackson Peak slowly recede across the waving grasses of the National Elk Refuge. This first light, so often a time of quiet, reserved for the last watchful glares of owls and scurries of tiny field mouse feet, is today busy with fresh anticipation. Experienced hands deftly slide delicate fly rods out of soft casing, and assemble the familiar pieces in the emerging light. Minuscule knots secure line to leader, tapering leader to tippet, and hair-fine tippet to fly.

Each year, anglers crawl out of bed in the darkness to greet opening day on Flat Creek at first light. A truly unique fishery, this internationally celebrated blue-ribbon trout stream is literally in Jackson Hole’s backyard. For the vast majority of the year, the expansive National Elk Refuge through which the creek tarries is off-limits to human exploration. Horse-drawn sleighs traverse a small portion in the winter, introducing visitors to the continent’s largest wild elk herd, but guests stay comfortably nestled in their seats. The brief fishing season is one of the only opportunities to spend time in this remarkable slice of landscape in any kind of solitude.

With access points a ten-minute drive or bike ride outside of town, Flat Creek is one of the simplest spots to visit for a brief pre- or post-work fishing excursion. Don’t let the size fool you; though the creek isn’t large – significantly smaller than the nearby Snake River – its crystal clear waters are home to some of the valley’s burliest cutthroat trout.

Just because Flat Creek is easy to get to doesn’t mean it’s easy to fish. In fact, it ranks among the area’s most technical fisheries, and many anglers have spent picturesque hours casting away, only to trudge back to their trucks without having landed a single trout. A variety of factors come together to make this waterway a challenge, but among the most significant is the fish themselves. Lying unperturbed by anything besides passing coyotes, elk or osprey, the cutthroat trout of Flat Creek are notoriously easy to spook. A heavy footfall, an accidental splash or slip from a rock is enough to scatter a honeyhole’s inhabitants. And once frightened, it is difficult to coax them back into eating.

The expansive meadow surrounding the creek is no walk in the park for an angler, either. With virtually no trees or shrubs for camouflage, an angler must always be painfully cognizant of where the sun is tossing her shadow. Sweeping darkness across a riffle can be enough to strike panic into the fish below the surface, and send them darting for the safe cover of the overhanging banks. This lack of vegetative structure also means there is nothing to slow the wind that occasionally sweeps through the valley. Strong gusts can make it next to impossible to unfurl a picture-perfect cast to a highly suspicious fish.

The effort required to catch a trout on Flat Creek can be staggering, but the payoff is unforgettable. As a teen, I passed many after-school September hours stalking these fish, and many times headed for the dinner table in utter defeat. But even now, as I look back, the tough nature of the stream makes those moments of victory even sweeter. There’s no question that facing the challenges of Flat Creek made me a better angler. So, whether you’ve been casting size 24 midges into gin-clear spring creeks for decades, or you’re still fine-tuning your roll cast basics, make sure that Flat Creek makes it onto your list this summer or fall. You may be rewarded with a truly memorable catch. You might learn a thing or two.

And I can promise you one thing: you won’t hate the view.  

 

 

 

 Images © Taylor Glenn

We’ve all been there: you’re packing for a day hike – grabbing energy bars, extra water and your trekking poles – and then as you’re about to head out, you see it. Or rather, you see him – your dog, your best friend and oh-so-loyal companion – waiting patiently for you next to the door. Big, brown eyes staring you down. Ears perked, questioning, pleading, waiting. A soft whimper that makes you melt with guilt.

While you may not be able to bring your pup into the National Park or even certain parts of the wilderness, there are tons of great hikes around the Tetons that will get you into some amazing places and let Rufus come along. A quick web search will offer you countless choices, but a few of our favorite dog-friendly spots include the hike to Jackson Peak (with a bonus lake part way up for swimming), Munger Mountain (down Fall Creek road with panoramas in every direction) and Phillips Canyon.

Once you’ve decided to bring your four-legged friend, there are a few simple ways to help ensure you and your dog will both have a great time out in the mountains together.

 

Double Check Your Terrain

Always look closely at the topography where you’re going. If you’re getting into steep terrain without a water source close by, make sure to bring extra water for both of you. If you’re hiking exposed ridgelines on a bluebird day – especially in the heat of summer – dehydration can set in fast. Since your pup can’t sweat, remember to double check the forecasted highs for the day – if it’s going to be in the 80’s, choose a hike that offers some time in a shaded canopy.

 

Protection from the Sun

If you’re hiking in Jackson, your base elevation is 6,300 feet above sea level. As you get into the higher mountains during summer, you may want to consider eye protection for your pup. Just like humans, UV rays can be harmful to dogs. A local Jackson company, Rex Specs, makes special goggles for dogs that protect them from UV rays – as well as from dust, sticks, rocks and any other other harmful elements that could result in an eye injury to your furry friend.

Fuel Up

Your dog needs to refuel just like you. Pack some snacks, or bring a reasonable ratio of your dog’s dry food based on how far you’re going. A few miles isn’t a big deal, but if you’re going for 3,000 feet of elevation gain and a 15-mile hike, your pup will need some food.

 

Trail Etiquette

One of the biggest decisions to make is whether you let your dog run off-leash or clip him in. First, check the rules of the area you’ll be visiting. If off-leash is an option and your dog has excellent recall and will return to you even when the most tantalizing animal dashes out in front of him, then you’re in the clear. But if you don’t have much hiking experience with your dog and you haven’t worked on recall in training together, or if he has a strong herding instinct, keep him leashed. Dogs that chase moose, elk or even bears are going to put themselves – and you – in danger. 

 

First Aid

While many of us think about bringing a first aid kit for humans, most of us don’t think about the potential situations our dogs could get in miles away from help. It’s a good idea to read up on basic first aid for dogs (and yourself, too), and while there are tons of first aid dog kits on the market, a great place to start is with a quick phone call to your local vet to steer you on the right track.

If you keep these things in mind, you and your dog will be great trail ambassadors, and you’ll also be knowledgeable and safer out in terrain where the unexpected can happen. And it goes without saying – always be a responsible dog owner and scoop the poop or use leave no trace principles for your dog’s waste.

Worried your adventure might not be appropriate for your four-legged friend? Fear not! You can always opt to drop Fido at one of Jackson’s quality pet sitting and boarding locations for the day, like DogJax, where he’ll get plenty of loving attention and exercise while you’re out.

Even carefully-planned adventures into the rugged terrain surrounding Jackson Hole can go wrong; unforeseen illness or injury can leave a group in a precarious situation in the mountains. Far from a hospital, with miles of rocky trail between you and the trailhead, the summer light starts to fade, and you realize that your crew is in a serious situation. Imagine the wave of relief that washes over you when you first hear the faint thrum of the helicopter rotors, the arrival of help confirmed as the metal bird rises over the horizon and aims for your location. Your sense of gratitude and deliverance swells when the door swings open, and out climbs a professional not only intimately familiar with mountain rescue, but also a highly-trained emergency medicine physician and paramedic with decades of experience around the globe.

A Wyoming native, Dr. Will Smith spent his youth working on his family’s ranch near Wheatland. By the time he completed high school, he had earned his EMT certification.  In college he continued to advance his medical career by being an EMT-Intermediate and was also providing emergency medical assistance as a Ski Patroller. This small-town start in the mountains started Will down an emergency medicine path that has since brought him around the planet and back to not only offer critical care to those who need it, but also to lead some of Jackson Hole’s finest emergency medical professionals.

Locally, Will is not only the Co-Medical Director for Jackson Hole Fire/EMS and Teton County Search and Rescue, but also the Bridger-Teton National Forest and Grand Teton National Park. On a national level, he serves in this capacity for an impressive array of other organizations. In short, he’s one of the country’s best and brightest in contemporary wilderness and rescue medicine experts. And Jackson Hole is nothing short of fortunate to call him one of our own.

What is a medical director? Within emergency medical services, a medical director is typically a physician who provides critical guidance, leadership, oversight and quality assurance for the practice of local paramedics and EMTs within an organization. Specially trained EMS Physicians are now recognized as a sub-specialty board in medicine, just like other specialties such as cardiology, toxicology, or oncology. This growing awareness that medical directors can improve patient outcomes is significantly helping EMS providers deliver up to date and competent care, and that’s precisely what Will strives to do through his leadership of organizations here in the Tetons.

“Jackson Hole is a wonderful place to practice medicine,” he says. But it comes with its own unique challenges. “Much as some people expect, we are still a small community and have limited medical resources compared to a larger city and academic medical centers.”

But working with limited resources and saving lives in extreme conditions is no foreign concept for Will. As a Lieutenant-Colonel in the Medical Corps of the Army Reserve, he has served multiple tours in the Middle East, as well as in Egypt, Croatia, Panama and El Salvador. While the combat support hospital of Baghdad might seem like a world away from the Tetons, the technical experience as well as the international perspective have both influenced Will’s work. “It’s really interesting to be able to see how things work not just in other parts of the U.S., but all over the world,” he reflects.

Will’s quick thinking and top-shelf skills have undoubtedly contributed to some impressive rescues in the Tetons. In 2010, Will directed the medical operations of the largest single rescue effort in Grand Teton National Park history when three parties of climbers were struck by lightning not far from the summit of the Grand Teton. The carefully choreographed rescue – including over 50 rescuers and multiple helicopters – saved sixteen of seventeen strike victims. “The teamwork on this Wilderness Mass Casualty Incident was impressive to be a part of.  Everyone performed to their ability and the training and expertise really paid off.” 

In the years since then, Will has participated in countless rescues and responded to an astonishing variety of other emergencies around Jackson Hole. From car and motorcycle wrecks to tumbles from horses and mountain bikes, from altitude sickness to strokes and heart attacks, the doc is ready to step up and help whatever strikes the locals and visitors to Jackson Hole.

 

There are some things you can do to help decrease the chances that you’ll need to call on Will and his exceptional teammates when you’re enjoying the forests and mountains around the area. “Get out there and have fun, but have a plan of what to do if something does happen,” he recommends. “Always play with others instead of being solo, just in case something unforeseen happens. And always let someone know where you are and when you expect to return.” This advice – though simple – can make it much quicker and easier to get assistance into the mountains should someone in your party need it.

Will also advocates for knowing your own limitations, and respecting them. Make sure you’re choosing adventures that are appropriate to your current ability and experience level. “Don’t push it,” he adds. “Save that summit for another time – people sometimes gamble with the weather and usually don’t win.”

But don’t worry, Dr. Will doesn’t spend all of his time patching up other adventurers when their plans go awry. He has just as much passion for the outdoor sports in Jackson as the rest of us do. On his rare day off, you’re likely to find him with his family, exploring a trail or bagging a peak summit, or hitting the Snake River to cool down on a summer afternoon. When the snow flies, you’ll probably find him carving turns into the fresh mountain powder. After all, when we know how to respect the wilderness around us and play safely, it’s a playground that some of the world’s best are delighted to call home.

 

Learn more about Dr. Will Smith’s award-winning work and expert consulting in emergency medicine at his website.

It’s five o’clock and the sun has barely begun to dip below its peak, glinting across the tips of aqua waves and promising a perfect evening on the water. With enough of a breeze to bring out the whitecaps, Jennifer Wilhite of Teton Surf revs the engine of her Malibu Wakesetter to 4,000 RPMs and carves around the feisty waves with ease.

“We’ll head up the channel and get outta this wind,” she yells over the roar of the engine, pulling her baseball cap down a little further and cranking the stereo to whoops and hollers from the bow. Pretty soon she’s got us nestled in against the west edge of Palisades Reservoir where the waves have all but disappeared, leaving only a glassy canvas and our imaginations for the evening ahead.

Though we technically came here to learn how to surf behind a powerboat, first things first: everybody’s flip flops come off and a steady dance party breaks out as Wilhite cranks the beat even more. A hand reaches into the cooler and starts passing out ice cold beer (with the exception of Wilhite of course), and with wake skates and wake boards and surfboards rigged up over the top of the boat, it’s clear summer is in full swing in Jackson Hole. Well, we’re actually in Alpine, a little less than an hour south of Jackson, but driving here through Snake River Canyon where wildflowers line the road and jagged rock walls shoot up in every direction isn’t exactly anything to complain about.

With eleven of us and all of our gear, the boat – aptly named “Green Goblin” by Wilhite’s daughter for it’s sparkly green exterior – still feels spacious. Wilhite’s smile is huge, and she’s clearly in her sweet spot helping to bring out such raw joy in others. She’s an excellent captain, driving the boat like it’s second nature all the while answering questions about how she ended up giving surf lessons in the middle of Wyoming.

“I’m a water baby,” she laughs. “I grew up on a lake water-skiing in Idaho.” This may be true, but she looks like she walked off the beach in L.A. a few minutes ago, tanned and toned in a bikini as if she’s been out here enjoying summer while the rest of us were dragging snow blowers around until May. It’s clear she crushes it at water sports, and after spending a few minutes talking to her it feels like you’ve known her forever. Put simply: she’s a pretty rad lady.

A single, wispy cloud drifts easily across the otherwise bluebird sky, when Bethany Hruska, one of the surf instructors, throws on a life jacket and plunges into the water with a big grin. We crowd around the back of the boat while she shows us how to use the tension on the rope to help get into the correct starting position. The board sticks perpendicular out of the water, her feet pressed against it, and she waits calmly as if sitting in a chair.

“Hit it!” She yells, and Wilhite punches the throttle, popping Hruska out of the water on top of the massive wake. Hruska begins to inch her way forward on the rope until she’s at the crest, only a couple feet away from the swim platform on the back of the boat, close enough to talk to us without shouting. Then she tosses the rope to us and begins to surf freely, the endless wave rolling out behind her. Her stance is relaxed, but she carves aggressively like a surfer in the open ocean, bringing her weight back and forth with the board to stay balanced. The mountains rise behind her, the sun dancing in the boat’s spray.

“The front foot’s the gas, and the back foot’s the brake,” she says, demonstrating how to slow down and speed up to stay on the wave. After throwing a 360 but catching an edge at the last second, she climbs back onto the swim platform, and Wilhite looks around for the first brave soul of our group.

 “Wait — is it warm or cold?” somebody asks.

“It’s 66 degrees! That’s warm!” Wilhite says. And she’s right — Palisades tends to run about 10 degrees warmer than Jackson Lake. When asked why she isn’t running the operation up there, Wilhite says it’s taken two years to get the permit from the US Forest Service for Palisades.

“The Park isn’t going to give one,” she says, but she doesn’t seem fazed. From Jackson, it’s the same distance to Alpine as it is up to Colter Bay, and with less traffic and one of the most scenic drives around, the whole experience screams of summertime fun. And while you might score an afternoon on Jackson Lake with a friend of a friend who has an old ski boat, there’s two internal ballasts on the Green Goblin that fill up with water at the press of the button, making its wake the biggest around. And for this sport in particular, bigger is definitely better.

Figuring there’s no time like the present, I jump in the water, preparing myself for an icy dip. But it’s surprisingly refreshing. I pop back to the surface and glance around at the dramatic landscape feeling like the luckiest person alive. Clear blue water stretches out for miles until it meets the steep, distant hills throwing long shadows across each other’s peaks. Laughter from the boat sprinkles across the summer air, and the Green Goblin floats like a comfy armchair in the middle of the otherwise empty reservoir.

I grip the handle of the rope and lean back, placing my feet onto the surfboard according to Hruska’s instruction. Wilhite eases the boat into forward gear, just enough so the board pushes against the water, making it easier to hold my position. Before I know it, I’m on top of the water, the board turning me forward and sending me out over the left side of the wake. I almost bite it, but catch my balance at the last second when I hear Wilhite yell, “You’re comin’ in too hot — put some back foot into it!” I press down into my right heel, and the board slows down and stays under me.

Getting my courage up, I start to pull myself a little closer to the boat, edging to the big part of the wake. The shoreline glazes along next to me, and I settle into my first surfing experience at 6,200 feet above sea level. My friends cheer me on, Wilhite turns the music up and another dance party ensues. I can’t help it – I have to throw a fist pump. It’s just that much fun.

Beneath sweeping views of the Gros Ventre and Teton mountain ranges, a grassy meadow unfolds along Spring Creek, and a relaxing evening settles down to the soundtrack of bubbling water and birds singing of summer. Picnic tables, Adirondack chairs and large, overturned barrels complete the picture as a group of five rambles out into the scenery from within an old 1900s barn, wine glasses in hand. Ian Schroth and Michelle DeLong join the group, Schroth holding a bottle of chardonnay and Delong pouring a silky stream of pinot noir into a glass, then handing it to one of the guests. And with that, Jackson Hole Winery’s summer tastings are in full swing.

“All the wine is made here,” Schroth says, who is the assistant wine maker of the family-owned business that utilizes Jackson’s high altitude to their full advantage. “At 6,000 feet, there’s 16% less oxygen, and that’s what builds the complexity and the more refined flavors.” It’s not possible to grow the grapes in Jackson, but after 6 or more trips hauling grapes back from California’s Russian River Valley during harvests, the family has created a growing selection of award-winning wines, from their summery rosé to their smoky zinfandel to their best-selling chardonnay. Though the winery feels remote and rustic, it’s actually only a few miles from Town Square, making it an ideal spot to wind down after the day before your dinner reservation.

DeLong, who runs the tasting room, is the only staff member outside of the family, and she’s the perfect addition – ready to talk at length about the process and each of the wine’s distinct flavors. “Typically in tastings we go from chardonnay to pinot to zin to cab,” she explains. “But it’s also fun to go from a rosé to pinot because they’re both made from the same grape.”

The winery started in 2009, when Schroth’s brother, Anthony, realized if he could source the grapes from California, Jackson’s elevation would be an innovative ingredient to help the fermentation process. His brother and parents, who had all been interested in building a family business out of their 17-acre property, jumped on board. By 2011, their barn – which used to be the town’s original creamery in the late 1940s – had been transformed into the tasting room. The family keeps everything small – their process doesn’t use any automated machinery from fermentation all the way to hand bottling.

DeLong and Schroth have moved the group onto the zinfandel, while they talk about how grapes are grown more inland for this wine. Schroth says zinfandel and cabernet grapes see more heat, giving them higher sugar contents and bigger red berries. “Zin isn’t the boldest wine, but it has the highest alcohol content,” he says. “It’s particular – people tend to either love it or hate it.”

He continues the tour into the winery where 70-gallon barrels are stacked to the ceiling, and then lets the group in on a little secret – “We’re bottling our first riesling next week.” Those grapes will be sourced from Oregon, and their goal is to create a dry riesling with a floral nose. “A lot of people wouldn’t put it in a barrel,” he says, twirling a taste of it in his glass. “But that’s what gives it such a creamy mouth feel while still having the big fruity flavors.” He passes out glasses, and aftertastes of lemon, green apple, subtle pear – even a touch of grapefruit – linger.

The riesling isn’t the only exciting addition to the family this year. There are plans for a malbec, a dessert wine and even a brandy partnership with local distillery Jackson Hole Still Works, so stayed tuned.

Back in the tasting room, Schroth’s dog, Cinco, playfully greets guests and hopes to get his ball thrown into the creek once in awhile. “He sells more wine than I do,” laughs Schroth. The guests meander out to the picnic tables, gazing over the landscape as the evening sun sends a golden glow across the meadow, another day in the books.

Rainer Kenney and Reed Hutton lead a group of eight tiny humans, each balancing a kayak and paddle precariously in their arms, down to the banks of the Hoback River, a river with class two rapids just south of the town of Jackson. This is the first time many of these kids have ever paddled the Hoback, and their fear and excitement fills the air noisily.

“What do we know about the Hoback?” Reed asks the tiny tribe of paddlers, a group of Peter Pan’s Lost Boys plus one fearless, steadfast girl.

“Big and gnarly!”

“Scary! Cold! Fast!”

“AWESOME!”

The responses resound across the canyon walls, and a flurry of elbows and paddles fly in all directions as they clamber into their boats. Their youthful enthusiasm finds focus when Reed raises his voice to speak to his mini mavericks.

“Ok, guys,” he says, “we are ready for this. Do we have our group and our coach? Are we holding our paddles the right way? OK, lets GO!”

Away the diminutive fleet slips and slides into the river like a raft of happy otters, ferrying across their first rapid and bracing themselves for the unknown at the ages of 9 and 10 years old.

The Jackson Hole Kayak club is a nonprofit organization started in 1996 by Aaron Pruzan, owner of Rendezvous River Sports, because he believed children in Jackson should learn how to kayak, just like they learn how to ski. His dream was to provide affordable kayak lessons to local kids, in a sport that is inherently expensive. Aaron began the club by taking a group of five passionate kids out on the river at 7pm when his shop closed each day, keeping them out long after sunset.  A few incredible paddlers came out of this original group, and since then the nonprofit has expanded with support from fundraisers, private donors and fundraising groups like Old Bill’s fun run. The club now employs six coaches and executive director Rainer Kenney, and runs programs all summer long divided into the Muskrat, Beaver, Otter, and Explorer groups, based on age and ability.

Coach Reed, who started out as a Muskrat in the Jackson Hole Kayak Club ten years ago, continues to be inspired by his role model coaches who helped him progress in the sport. As a teenager he began helping coach the younger kids in exchange for club membership, and is now an official employee when on summer break from Middlebury College. Reed explains that the connection he feels to his “kayak club family” wasn’t exactly love at first sight. “My first year sucked,” he admits with a grin. “It was cold and scary. Then I learned how to roll, made friends, and it got awesome!”

Rainer explains how helping kids work through their fear and stay interested in the sport through the first year is often his greatest challenge, and one that has taken years of experience to perfect.  Rainer laughs as he tells us how his adorably novice paddlers “get into tiny little kayaks, with their little skirts on…and we’re like ok, now flip over. When you flip over you feel like you’re trapped, it’s a very scary thing. So we try to take it slowly… if by the end of the first session they feel comfortable flipping over and getting out – called a wet exit – then I feel pretty good.”  

Rainer has been a passionate educator for as long as he can remember, even helping coach his sister’s 4^th grade team as a 6^th grader himself.  He fondly remembers living in his truck his first summer in Jackson, fresh out of college and chasing his dream of teaching whitewater kayaking to youth. He jokes that as his students found out he was technically homeless, they would say things like, “you can come stay with me Rainer, I’ve got bunk beds! And their parents were like, no, your homeless kayak coach isn’t coming over to hang out.” Rainer also remembers accidentally emptying a kayak over his head that first summer that had, unbeknownst to him, been peed in moments prior by one of his giggling students (you know who you are), a hazing ritual of sorts anyone who teaches children can relate to.

Rainer has paddled with all 70 of the kayak club’s current members, watching many go from scared and timid children to hard charging semi adults (who may or may not still pee in their kayaks). Rainer says, “Watching these kids get better is what makes me truly happy. I’ve seen them grow from being terrified of the water, going down Flat Creek terrified to flip over, to surfing Lunchcounter, flipping over all the time, becoming better than I am.” Risk management gains utmost importance when working with the rapidly progressing teenagers in the Explorer group, and as kids grow into their fearless, often egocentric teenage years, the sport is here to remind them of their own limitations.

Coaches stress slowing down and analyzing each situation on the river, and teach kids how to assess whether or not to run a rapid based on their own ability. Besides imparting invaluable lessons on high pressure decision-making, Rainer and Reed are attempting to give these kids a sense of self-reliance, and teach them how to be cool, man. “There’s more to kayaking than paddling,” Rainer explains. “We go camping, make a fire, eat and sleep outside… try to teach them what it means to be a real kayaker. We say, you guys tie your own boats down, carry your own boats, you put your gear away and hang it up… you’re gonna be an adult today.”

The Beavers learning to navigate the Hoback River will indeed one day be adults, and they are the new generation of stewards to our planet.  Kayaking takes these kids to some of the most beautiful, remote places on earth, and allows them to see our world from the unique viewpoint of the rivers themselves. Members of the club have chosen to do projects in school on whitewater management, such as research on the rivers in Yellowstone. The kayak club paddles Flat Creek in town every spring picking up trash, since the only really effective way to clean the creek is from a boat.

Today, the Lost Boys (and girl) of the Hoback River surpass their coaches’ expectations yet again, each of them stopping to try their hand at surfing a rapid and many of them practicing their rolls and wet exits. In these moments, they hardly appear as kids at all, until Ruby cries out to Rainer to inspect a suspicious looking bug that has burrowed its way into her life jacket. Atticus, after crushing the rapid, asks his buddy Reed, “the cool coach,” to help warm up his freezing hands. Still, at times it is hard to tell the coaches from the kids, since wide-eyed joy and youthful grins are plastered across all of their faces equally.

“This is the most fun day ever,” exclaims one little fear-conquering paddler as he wobbles through the brush under the weight of his boat, exhausted and full of stories to tell his parents at the dinner table. Rainer nods and agrees, “This is the best day I’ve ever had.”

 

 

 

 To learn more about the JH Kayak Club check out their site here 

 

 

Images © Taylor Glenn

With two of the country’s most celebrated national parks as our neighbors to the north, it’s easy to see how a culture of ecological stewardship and preservation guides local thinking. Philosophies such as “take only pictures, leave only footprints” and Leave No Trace are embraced by locals within Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks as well as in the expansive wild areas that surround them. Here, we appreciate that a healthy environment is one whose natural integrity is left as untouched as possible by human hands.

Oftentimes, an ecological conscience and passion for this stewardship is easy to foster. We fight for the rights of grizzly bears – an essential top predator – to live unhindered by trophy hunters. We rally against destructive fracking on our public lands. We leave the wildflowers and trees where they belong, growing strong from their native soil.

However, these ethics can also be difficult to live by at times. It means we have to stay away from or miss out on things we might like to do because we know that our actions could be destructive. For instance, despite tempting powder, we stay out of crucial areas of the backcountry in winter when wildlife is battling to make it to another spring. We respect boundaries set by Park personnel so that the wondrous natural features and animals the parks protect will be there, whole and healthy, for tomorrow’s visitors to enjoy. And, as truly heart-wrenching as it can be when, say, the life of a baby animal seems tenuous, we do our best not to interfere in the natural cycles of life and nature. We also don’t recklessly retaliate against predators with whom we share this land, like coyotes and wolves, simply for being the carnivores they are.

Here are a few tips to explore and appreciate Jackson Hole like a local. Not only will they keep you safe, they’ll make sure the amazing things you’re here to see will be around when you come back next time:

• Slow down and stay aware when you’re driving on park roads – neglecting to do so can end in injury or death to wildlife or other visitors. 
• Remember that posted regulations and warnings are there for good reason, and whether it’s your first time to the area or your fiftieth year living here, they apply to you.
• Keep a healthy distance from wildlife and don’t feed animals, either on purpose or unintentionally leaving food scraps behind.
• Walk, explore, play, and camp in designated areas only; closures are in place for good reason.
• Leave “collectible” treasures – such as rocks, flowers, bones, fallen branches, artifacts, etc. – where nature put them so that other visitors can also enjoy them and so they can exist in the natural cycle as they are meant to. 
• Dispose of trash, including pet waste, only in designated receptacles, and recycle whenever you can.
• Carry bear spray, even if you’re sticking to the frontcountry.
• Keep pets on a leash in National Parks, and make sure off-leash pets elsewhere don’t harass wildlife.
• Minimize campsite modifications and campfire impacts, and be highly aware of fire conditions in the area.
• Be respectful of wildlife and other visitors by following proper etiquette, including minimizing noise and rambunctious behavior.

We here in the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem live in the midst of profound and ancient natural forces. Sometimes these forces do take their toll on us, but in the bigger picture, they are what sustain us. Existing in the midst of them, as part of them, is what makes life here so special, and to love this place is to respect and protect it.

 

For more information, visit these websites: Leave No Trace https://lnt.org/ ; Grand Teton National Park https://www.nps.gov/grte/index.htm ; Yellowstone National Park https://www.nps.gov/yell/index.htm ; Bridger-Teton National Forest http://www.fs.usda.gov/btnf ; Bureau of Land Management, Wyoming http://www.blm.gov/wyoming1/

 

 

 

Images © Taylor Glenn

 

Half a dozen rainbow flags danced high in the breeze, a bright and cheerful invitation to all to join in the relaxed and laughter-filled picnic below. One of Jackson Hole’s many town parks was bustling with smiles, laughter and plates heaped high with homemade treats. Some people sported tie-dye shirts with brilliant colors, others draped their shoulders with rainbow scarves or flags. As a beautiful Saturday drew to a close, this diverse and enthusiastic group proudly celebrated our LGBTQ community members, friends, family and neighbors, as well as the many who visit our beautiful home in the mountains.

Teton Pride had this annual picnic on the calendar months ago, but it suddenly and tragically took on new meaning in the wake of the recent violence in Orlando, Florida. “This year’s picnic was especially important so individuals could gather to honor the victims and families of the Orlando shooting,” reflected Mark Houser, the coordinator of Jackson PFLAG. “But beyond this, our Teton Pride Picnic allows the LGBTQ community and allies to gather and celebrate the diversity that enhances the Jackson community.”

At five o’clock, Mark turned down the music, and the cheerful chatter faded away. After sharing quotes and reflections on the heartbreak felt by those in Orlando and beyond, local high school students slowly and thoughtfully read each victim’s name and age aloud. The crowd stood silent. Some held hands; tears streaked faces. Each name represented so much more than a face; it stood for families, friends, dreams, loves, hopes and futures. Each represented a life stolen, a loss that has sent pain and sadness radiating like ripples after a stone dropped in a still pond.

Wyoming bears its own scars in terms of violence against LGBTQ individuals, with the murder of Matthew Shepard as one of the most widely remembered incidents. However, many communities and individuals have been inspired by this legacy, and strive to cultivate cultures of compassion and support and celebrate their diversity. Jackson Hole is certainly among them, if not leading the charge.

“Support for the LGBTQ community in Teton County continues to grow. We now have vibrant Gay Straight Alliances at two local high schools,” observes Mark. “Unfortunately, prejudice still exists in Wyoming, but it is also present across the rest of the country. That being said, overall I believe the greater Jackson area holds a welcoming and affirming energy who all who want to share the opportunities of our region!”

Jackson Hole is proud of the diversity of its residents as well as its visitors. We dream of a valley, a state, a nation and a world that can be less prejudiced and violent, and more like a Saturday afternoon picnic in the park: filled with sunshine, laughter, music and love.