Jackson Hole

On a frigid day in April 2015, onlookers were treated to a dramatic performance alongside the banks of Jackson Hole’s pristine Snake River. Overhead, an osprey and bald eagle fought midair over a trout. Wheeling and spinning, their pirouettes offered a spectacular display of the dance of survival in the wild. Suddenly, the bald eagle struck a power line that spanned the river: the duet jarringly interrupted. Shocked onlookers watched her stunned body plummet into the icy river below.

With canoe paddles and ski poles, the bystanders were able to drag the eagle to the shore. Her feathers were soaked through, and she coughed against the cold water in her lungs.

Teton Raptor Center’s co-founder, Roger Smith, and Executive Director, Amy McCarthy, swooped in to the rescue. The eagle was struggling after the trauma and near-drowning; it was unlikely that she would survive the night. They placed her in the oxygen machine, hoping that she could recover from her injuries and the pneumonia that wracked her lungs. For weeks, the Raptor Center Staff would gently restrain her and force-feed her bits of rat, quail, mouse, and fish. Slowly, against all odds, she grew stronger. On July 3^rd, two and a half months after her accident, she was released back to the wild.

Since 1997, the Teton Raptor Center has accrued dozens of stories like this one. From great horned owls and eagles, to compact kestrels and diminutive pygmy owls, the Teton Raptor Center has brought injured birds of prey back from the brink of death.

Meghan Warren, Rehabilitation and Volunteer Coordinator at the Raptor Center, started out as a volunteer herself. “I fell in love with the birds,” she said. “I found the work of healing these birds, watching them recover and return to the wild, deeply fascinating and rewarding.”

While Meghan admits that the hundred or so birds that the Raptor Center rehabilitates every year doesn’t have a statistical impact on regional population levels, the work has a great deal of value to the community. “Most of the birds that we treat are injured, ill or orphaned from anthropogenic causes. I feel like it’s our duty to undo some of that,” she says. “Also, we learn something new from every rehab case, whether it’s about the cause of injury, or plumage variations amongst a species, or measurements to add to a master database; each case is an opportunity to learn.”

Education is a core piece of the Raptor Center’s work. Ultimately, some birds are unable to return to the wild. Becky Collier, Senior Avian Educator, is dedicated to ensuring that these birds have rich, fulfilling lives and can continue to have an impact through education. Over half a dozen birds of prey make up the resident population at the Raptor Center, and Becky makes sure they have it pretty good. With plenty to eat, engaging spaces to live and exercise in, time outside and plenty of fascinated visitors, these birds offer a unique opportunity for the community to cultivate an understanding of their importance in the ecosystem. “They can’t go back to the wild, but they still deserve to have meaningful lives,” explains Becky.

The Raptor Center makes sure there is no shortage of opportunities to get up close and personal with these incredible birds. Every Saturday afternoon, visitors are welcomed into the historic buildings of the campus for the Raptor Encounter program. After meeting some of the resident raptors, guests see the clinic where rescued birds begin their journey of rehabilitation. It would be truly impossible to not be awestruck by the intimate interactions with the birds; so frequently, we only enjoy them from a distance. To appreciate one up close is amazing. The brightness and textures of their feet, the razor-like points of their talons, the intricacy of their plumage, the piercing gaze of their golden eyes.

This magnificence doesn’t really wear off, either, says Meghan. “I never get bored working with these birds. They are the most beautiful creatures and each one is so different from the last. I feel privileged to work with them. Holding one can be intimidating, especially if it’s a big one, like an eagle, and they’re so lightweight. You can’t believe how little a great horned owl’s body really weighs, and how much is just fluffy feathers!”

A visit to the Raptor Center is guaranteed to give you a new appreciation for these impressive creatures when you see them in the wild. Should you encounter one that has suffered some kind of accident or illness that requires rescue, there are a few important things to remember. First, just because a raptor is on the ground does not mean it is in need of assistance. Fledgling raptors are frequently on the ground prior to developing flight skills, and have the best chance of survival if left alone. However, if you are certain that the bird is injured or ill, call the Raptor Center right away. Don’t keep the bird to wait and see if it improves; that will often worsen its chances of survival.

Loving this place means limiting our impact on the wild world around us and those with whom we share it. Caring for these sentinel species begins with understanding them, and the unique role they play in the elegant balance of the wild. The Teton Raptor Center is dedicated to educating the community, protecting these beautiful creatures, and – where they can – trying to undo some of the damage that humans have done.

 

For more on the Teton Raptor Center and their programming visit  tetonraptorcenter.org

 

Images © Taylor Glenn

If you’ve been out there you know – a day in Jackson Hole’s backcountry is akin to heaven itself. It’s just you, a few friends, and the mountains at the tips of your skis. The act of casually skinning a fresh track through the woods, up a ridge, and onward in search of a specific line, has a way of bringing nature in up-close and personal. With each step you gain familiar knowledge of the terrain, as you listen to the trees creaking around you, heavily laden with snow. 

A gust of wind might pick up and swirl glistening snow crystals around you as you hike, step by step, further into a majestic backdrop of pillowy mountaintops. Aside from the crunching of your skis as you glide forward, silence permeates the scene, as you cross over ice covered creeks and forward into the woods. Ascending into steeper terrain, each step takes more energy and more thought, as you get that much closer toward your goal – and closer to extreme danger, lurking just underfoot. 

And then, the reward — swiftly skiing down a glorious empty canvas that’s just begging for you to slash some turns in it. Bottomless, blower, deep, illustrious powder. It is a unique feeling: indescribable, total bliss. But this idyllic scene can be easily interrupted with abruptly shedding snowpack that can take you with it, powerless against its sheer magnitude. Skiing is not worth dying for, which is why avalanche avoidance is absolutely necessary. Not just for your own safety, but for those around you, and others who may be traveling in the surrounding area. 

Jackson Hole’s backcountry offers marvelous accessibility — much of it is easily seen from the highway. It has a way of beckoning you, particularly after a recent storm. However, as we have learned this winter, and every winter before, the thing we love with reckless abandon can be deadly, and when we least expect it. 

When it comes to backcountry safety and staying alive in avalanche terrain, sometimes a little restraint can go a long way. Avoiding the obvious pitfalls is incredibly important, such as staying home during high avalanche danger, steering clear of sketchy terrain, and making sure you’ve got a partner. Never travel alone. 

Because rest assured, when you enter a backcountry zone, you are taking your life into your own hands, which is why it’s imperative to be aware of the risks before you go and mitigate them the best you can. While skiing is a lifelong passion for many of us, it’s profoundly tragic when our beloved sport ends a life. It’s always best to attend an avalanche course (or two) before you delve into the backcountry, and find a mentor who can help you along. 

Jacob Urban, Owner of the Jackson Hole Outdoor Leadership Institute and Deputy Advisor of Teton County Search and Rescue, gave us a few wise words to consider:

As an educator and rescuer, I think it is important for aspirant mountaineers to get a formal education, for example, AIARE Level 1 and Wilderness First Responder. Many students underestimate the amount of experience one needs to successfully apply that gained knowledge. Education balanced with personal experience over the course of several seasons is normally needed to develop competency, and it takes much longer to master such concepts and skills.

Avoiding avalanches requires a thoughtful balance between technical knowledge and good decision making. Multiple steps must be followed through methodically. It’s not just about checking weather conditions and the avalanche report before you head out, or whether your transceiver has fresh batteries. It takes deference equaling that of religion – practice with your beacon regularly, know how to dig a pit and read the snowpack, be aware of where you’re traveling and where avalanches could happen. 

Attune yourself to your surroundings at all times. If there is any doubt, don’t go. No amount of untracked powder can compensate for a lost life. Because it’s not just about you, or the line you’re skiing, or that immensely satisfying sensation of arcing from one perfect turn into the next. It’s about making sure you don’t hear that sickening whoomp sound as you drop in, or witness a deep crack running out ahead of you before the snow detaches from the mountain and takes you with it. Staying out of harm’s way might mean skiing the mellower line, but those steeper shots will still be there another day, and so will you. 

 Avalanche safety is a basic courtesy to yourself and those around you, and should be taken seriously. Know the terrain, know the risks, and know how to use your gear. After all, we want to see you back here next year, when there will be more snow, more peaks to ski, and another day to get after it. 

 

 Resources for Avalanche Safety in Jackson Hole

Bridger Teton Avalanche Center

MountainWeather by Jim Woodmencey

 

For more info on courses:

AIARE
American Avalanche Institute

Images © Taylor Glenn 

A wheeled chariot. A rider in leather chaps. A team of horses. A cheering crowd.

 

On a sunny weekend in the middle of the Wyoming winter, masses of people gather on the snow for the annual high-speed, uniquely Western, most epic winter tailgate party in the West: The Cutter Races.

Under a February sun, horses paw the ground as their handlers parade them in front of a crowd ready and willing to bet on their success in the upcoming race. An auctioneer’s near-incomprehensible slur of numbers and words barks though a loud speaker over the sea of people; men and women consult each other and pool their money, casting bets on red or green.

As drivers grow busy readying the chariots, jitters build and spread electrically through the crowd. Teams are escorted by riders on horseback to the starting gates.

Through the masses of tailgaters deep in their Budweisers, red Shriners’ hats bob along the course. Preparation for the annual fundraiser, now in its 45^th year, has paid off once again: hundreds of trucks neatly line the groomed track, tailgates down, platforms up, heaters plugged in. Every bet, each dollar laid down toward this team or another, raises 15% for Shriners Hospitals around the nation. 

As the sun’s warmth begins to defeat the chill in the air, lawn chairs snap open. More tailgates hinge downward, propping up tables of chips, bratwursts, and Bloody Mary stations. More beverages slide into coozies, cold from being nestled into natural snow-bank coolers.

Over a sea of cowboy brims and Kromer caps, the race officiant drops the flag and the race begins. Tearing down the wide, groomed field of snow, pairs of horses charge full speed ahead, bedecked with crisp, bright socks and tails woven-through with glittering ribbons. Carrying a single-man chariot behind them and gaining speed, the carriages cut into the perfect snow on the track, spraying spectators who line the fences. Neck and neck, the drivers shout at the top of their lungs, goading their teams forward an extra foot, an extra inch, anything to take the lead and enter into sweet victory.

Finished almost as quickly as it began, the race is over. Money changes hands, beers are tipped back, another burger sizzles as it is flipped on the grill. The dark forms of ravens circle overhead, seemingly oblivious to the heart-pounding excitement unfolding below. Heat after heat, the excitement never dulls, never becomes one ounce less enrapturing. 

For this Wyoming town, the Cutter races embrace all the positive parts of February, and for an excellent cause. Between the mud, the excitement, or the thrill of betting on a horse team, it’s the joy of being together with community and the simple pleasure of watching a good, old-fashioned race that make the Cutters an experience to remember. 

Images © Taylor Glenn

Sitting in the snow on the bank of the Bechler River struggling to dry my feet and wriggle my ski boots back on, I have to pause and marvel at the absurdity of the moment. Groaning in frustration my partner Taylor Phillips fights with me for a little elbow room as he pulls his wool socks back on while simultaneously trying to keep from sliding off our awkward, snowy perch into the frigid water. Minutes earlier we had come to an impassable spot on the south side of the canyon forcing us to ford the river to the other side. This involved bare feet, cold water, and a mini excavation project of the snowy river bank in order to ferry our party of 2 across. We look at each other and burst into laughter, a moment of clarity and pure joy agreeing that we will never forget this moment…

Nestled in the SW corner of Yellowstone National Park is the Bechler Region one of the most remote areas of the park. Punctuated by the Bechler River, this area is known for amazing waterfalls, thermal features, and the incredible remote wilderness we are so lucky to have as part of “America’s Best Idea”. I have called Jackson Hole home for nearly 13 years and have done a fair bit of adventuring throughout the region including Yellowstone. But until recently I had never seen our first national park in the depths of winter. I can not recall exactly how the pitch went but I am certain it involved a few beers and a little bravado. “TP” and I had been discussing possible adventure ideas from biking across Spain to paddling Chilean fjords. As reality brought us back to the fact that we neither had the time nor the funds to go so big I threw out the idea of something more local. Several summers ago I hiked the Bechler River trail to visit Mr Bubbles, a hot spring feature in the Ferris Fork geyser basin about 15 miles from Old Faithful. I only recall small bits of that trip but one thing for sure is that Mr Bubbles is a world class hot spring in a very special location. So why not repeat that same through hike on skis in winter?!? If I’m gonna experience YNP in winter then lets really EXPERIENCE it in winter! Sounded pretty straightforward to me and TP was sold before I could even finish describing how awesome of an idea this was. We had no idea what we were getting into…

Essentially the trip breaks down like this: Shuttle into Old Faithful, ski tour roughly following the Bechler River summer trail for approximately 32 miles crossing the continental divide, stopping at Ferris Fork and Mr Bubbles which marks the halfway point,  then continuing down the Bechler River Canyon and ending at the Bechler Ranger Station. Here is our story…

Day 1

Our journey started in West Yellowstone, MT. Because Winter traffic in Yellowstone in limited to a handful of tour operators we had to hop a shuttle to Old Faithful. Grabbing a gigantic high calorie breakfast before departing was in order.

TP inspecting his sled harness before loading up to shuttle in.

The posted temps the day we started were relatively mild. That changed pretty quickly. The first two nights we saw temps of -25 degrees F. (photo Taylor Phillips)

Parking lot gear explosion.

Despite it being winter with very little traffic in the backcountry you are still required to register with the Rangers. While securing our proper permits we caught an eruption of Old Faithful through the visitor center windows. Soon after we were on our way. The trip begins with a few miles of skiing the main road. Encountering a couple of snow machines only hardened our resolve to reach the forest trail quickly so we could leave the noise of the motorheads behind.

A Coyote crossing the road in the distance pauses to give us a once over.

Our calculations put the trip somewhere in the neighborhood of 32 miles, with the first 4 being groomed. We figured this would be a nice warm up to ease into the trail breaking we would soon be doing. Overall we thought it would be fairly straightforward. Load our gear on sleds and just pull all that stuff behind us. It will just glide right across the snow. We greatly underestimated how difficult it would be.

Skiing past Lone Star Geyser, where the groomed trail ends and the real work begins.

A bison forages in the meadow where the snow is shallow near thermal features in the Lone Star Geyser area. These guys have it tough in the winter. They use their broad heads to brush snow away from the ground and munch on what little grass and nutrients they can find.

Yes I brought my tripod. Turns out that was a mistake. It’s heavy. But hey at least I was able to make this photo. It was a crisp -20F this first night out.

 

Day 2

We started out with a leisurely morning taking photos and gawking at the beauty around us. Assuming we would cruise our way up and over the Continental Divide, we took our time and enjoyed the moment. A mileage post on the trail reminded us of how far we had to go, 27.6 miles, piece of cake! And soon after we began to realize just how wrong our assumptions were. To back up a bit a huge winter storm hit the GYE region one day prior to our departure. The Tetons saw 21+ inches over 36 hours and who knows how much the Yellowstone backcountry received. No way to measure properly but I can assure you it was a lot. As we started our climb up to Grant’s Pass it was evident this was not going to be a casual cruise through the mountains. The deep powder pulled at our sleds causing terrible resistance as they submarined through the snow.

It wasnt all pow though. In some of the thermal zones we actually had solid ground. About 10 feet of it… (photo Taylor Phillips)

After a whopping 4 miles of travel we were totally spent and the the sun was setting so it was time to make camp. It was pretty clear by now that we were in for a much more difficult journey than we had anticipated. Looking back on our leisurely morning we realized it had cost us precious time. It would be pre-dawn wakeups from now on.

The snow melting begins…

Winter backcountry cuisine recipe:

Melt Water
Boil Water
Add soup mix or whatever dehydrated meal you have
Add anything else you brought – jerky, cheese, nuts, etc.

Enjoy!

In addition to this being my first winter visit to Yellowstone, it was pretty much my first serious winter camping trip. I did plenty of research prior to heading out and felt pretty good about our supplies. I think the most surprising thing was the amount of calories you need to consume to keep yourself going. Many estimates say 4-5K a day. That’s a lot of food and it can get heavy. You also need to drink a lot of water to stay hydrated which is really difficult to do when you are constantly moving and relying on melted snow for your H2O. You also need fuel, a lot of it, b/c in the cold it takes a lot of energy to make heat.

 

Day 3

Originally our itinerary had us arriving at Ferris Hot Springs at the end of day 3 with plenty of time to enjoy a soak. Still hopeful we got going early. We had camped somewhere between Grant’s Pass and 2nd Divide.  The climb up through the two passes comprised our only real elevation gain of the trip, a huge 500 feet! Doesn’t sound like much but with the demon sleds playing tug of war with our hips 500 felt more like 5000. We had clearly underestimated the difficulty. The only option was to push forward and at this point I was questioning whether we could actually do this thing as intended.

My partner Taylor Phillips is owner and lead guide of Jackson Hole EcoTour Adventures in Jackson Hole. The beauty of traveling in the mountains with a naturalist is that you get to learn about things you would otherwise walk right by. With TP in the lead breaking trail he noticed this indentation in the snow which turned out to be where a dusky grouse had burrowed for the night. You could see where it landed, then tunneled through the snow, and once morning came exploded out leaving wing patterns in the fresh powder. I would have walked right by this without a second thought. There are so many wonderful things to see and learn if you just pay attention.

Bear claw marks in an Aspen tree. (photo Taylor Phillips)

The sun breaks through as we finally crest 2nd divide. It was essentially all ‘downhill’ from here. If only it would feel that way…

Crossing the meadow up high beyond the divide was pretty amazing. There was so much snow the trees were completely frosted like big icy mushrooms. It was otherworldy.

This was a sight I became very familiar with, TP breaking trail with his sled, which we affectionately called the snow turtle, trailing behind. Just beyond those trees on the horizon about another mile was where we would camp for the night. Unfortunately b/c of our timing we could not make Ferris Fork on this day as planned. This is where our mistake of not getting going earlier on day 2 came to haunt us. But so it goes. An evening soak in the hot springs was not in our cards.

 

 

Day 4

Atlantis Found! Well… we made it to Mr Bubbles anyway, the motivating goal of this crazy idea. With an early start and a direct line picked out for descending to Ferris Fork, we made our way. This is where we realized the repercussions of our poor timing from 2 days earlier. It only took us about 1.5 hours to reach the mark from our camp, meaning that precious 2 hours from day 2 we spent kept us from arriving at the springs on schedule. Oh well, lesson learned…

TP on the final descent in Narnia better known as Ferris Fork Geyser Basin. Our direct line in landed us almost directly into Mr Bubbles.

One of the thermal features along the Ferris Fork.

Here you can see the entire span of Mr Bubbles with the Ferris Fork river on the left, Bubbles at center, and the feeder hot spring on the right. It is illegal to enter hot springs in Yellowstone NP. The reason Mr Bubbles is an option is b/c it is actually a part of the Ferris Fork river with a hot spring feeding hot water into the feature. The name comes from an air vent in the center of the feature that constantly bubbles air. We were so fortunate to experience this place in these conditions. Light snow, the sun peaking in and out. Very few people get to see this and it was worth every bit of effort to be there.

All smiles and foggy lenses

 This marked almost the exact halfway point and we had no idea what lay ahead for us in the river canyon so after an hour of soaking it was time to keep moving.

Skiing out along the Ferris Fork to Three River Junction

Our first of multiple river crossings. This water was thermal warm so it was actually quite pleasant. That would not be the case later…

 

Day 5

This would prove to be our most difficult and stressful day. A tricky river crossing, multiple sketchy snow bridges over deep creeks, avalanche prone terrain, crucial navigation choices. It was a lot to handle. This is where I should take a minute and stress the importance of choosing your adventure partners. Taylor and I have done a number of smaller outings which set us up well for this experience. This is not the kind of trip you would want to take on with just anyone. It takes trust, experience, and solid teamwork to safely navigate this kind of terrain. I am grateful to TP for being such a solid partner. We were able to confidently address all the challenges and have a lot of fun doing it.

For navigation we knew using regular maps would not be easy given the fact the trails are buried. There are trail blazes in the trees to help mark the standard trails but there was so much snow that we eventually stopped seeing the blazes b/c they were buried! Before embarking on this madness I found a lot of good info on using your iPhone with an app called Gaia GPS. The screenshot above is a detail from the USGS quad loaded into the app. It worked amazingly well and I honestly can not imagine navigating this trip without it. Ironically the Bechler is named for Gustav Bechler, the cartographer of the Hayden Survey that first documented this region. Wonder what he would make of our technology?

Back to the grind… Early in the day we came to a point where we had no choice but to cross the Bechler. Using the GPS we were attempting to contour the south side of the canyon and avoid crossing but we encountered an impassable side creek and had no other choice but to ford to the north side. We found a low spot in the snowy bank with a small gravel bar in the water and stepped out a spot to prep for the crossing. Once all our gear was on our makeshift platform we pulled off our boots and waded over to the far side and shoveled out a landing. After several trips we got everything back in order and started to continue towards the north side of the canyon. What we had not realized at the time is that the spot we crossed had actually put us on an island in the middle of the river! Briefly disheartened there was no time to dwell. We had to deal with it. In order to reach our goal of actually getting to the north side of the river we had to once again excavate a platform, lower down our gear, wade across with shovels and excavate the far bank. Despite the frustration of having to do it over I had to laugh at the fact that here we were in the middle of winter standing barefoot in a river hacking away at a snowy bank. What a memory to have.

 

The rest of this day was spent skirting the north side of the river staying just out of reach of the avalanche prone terrain from the canyon walls above us slowly making our way to the meadows below the canyon. Originally we had hoped to be cruising downhill through this section and being well within reach of the ranger station. But once again we could only go so far. And with all the terrain obstacles we encountered our progress was well behind our intended schedule. After a long grueling day our progress totaled around 5 miles leaving 7 miles of Bechler Meadows to go.

 

Day 6

Well behind our original itinerary we had a lot of ground to cover in order to make our pickup at the ranger station. Another crucial piece of technology that we carried was a Delorme satellite communication device. It allowed us to send out text messages. If something went wrong it would be a way to call for help. It also came in handy to coordinate our pickup at the ranger station. We were able to send a message to let everyone know we were ok but well behind schedule. Given the distance we had to cover it wasn’t going to be easy. We would earn every single step this day.

TP navigates through a thermal area in the upper meadows.

TG on the far side of Slough Creek sorting out a landing. (photo Taylor Phillips)

TP grimaces while crossing the frigid waters of Slough Creek. This far beyond the thermal areas the water was barely above freezing. It was brutal.

5:15PM – Only 7 hours late! We originally intended to be at the Bechler Ranger Station the previous evening to camp before our originally scheduled 10am pickup. At this point we were just happy to have made it with a bit of daylight left. 

After 6 days of struggling with heavy sleds, our last 13 miles to the trailhead and vehcile went by in a flash on the back of snowmobiles.

 

Ski touring this deep into the wilderness is not something to be taken lightly. It requires a lot of preparation and you better make sure you have everything you need b/c once you are out there you are a long ways from help, even if you are only a few miles from a trailhead. Something as simple as breaking a ski binding or the rivets on your sled harness could be disastrous. But that is also part of what makes any good adventure, stepping into the unknown with enough risk to keep you on edge at all times. If you are up for a huge physical challenge with the reward of true solace in pristine wilderness then a winter ski tour would be a great option. Yellowstone is seeing more and more visitors every year but winter will always be left to those who are willing to work for their access. It was a magical experience to be there and will stand as one of the great adventures I have ever done.

 

Images © Taylor Glenn

 

 

 

Saturday, 3PM: the glowing digital thermometer on top of the tram, blinking red under whipping layers of snow, reads 7 degrees. It’s been a long, full day, full of powder turns and quad-busting tram laps. I glance over to my posse of skier pals as the Big Red Box departs from the dock, and without much discussion, we unanimously decide that this is the last run of the day. And then comes the biggest question of the afternoon: where should we meet up afterwards?

At the base area, blood slowly returns to my chilly fingers and toes. Stepping into the warmth of the cozy bar, I watch the color return to my friends’ cheeks, re-energized by the social scene of the restaurant. I groan with a tingly mix of pain and relief as I tug off my stiff boots, the ultimate release after a day of toe-numbing laps. I peel away my snow-saturated shell and steam rises from my shoulders. By the time we’re ready to order, I’m warmed up and ready to relish the second-best part of skiing: the après. 

Skiing, by nature a social pursuit, is only enhanced by the time-tested, almost instinctive tradition of the après-ski – carrying the warmth of camaraderie from the slopes into a favorite restaurant or bar. For those lucky enough to be spending any time in Jackson, options for outstanding après spots abound. Clinking glasses after a long day in the snow, whether hiking into the side country, skidding down the bunny hill, or ripping corduroy, solidifies what we all know: skiing – in all of its forms – absolutely rules. 

No matter how tired, excited, or worked our ski crew is, gathering together after a day on the slopes conjures a special magic all of its own. Maybe it’s the low lighting of a dive-y, rambunctious bar blasting live music from the stage that begs for a little booty-shaking, if your legs can take it. Maybe it’s the re-energizing plate of gooey nachos dug into by a half dozen smiling friends squished into a well-worn leather booth. Perhaps, more than anything, it’s the combination of storytelling, planning for tomorrow, and the recollection that it’s Saturday, so yeah, we should probably get another pitcher of Pako’s IPA.

Whether you’re on vacation or part of the 100-Day Club, taking time to linger after skiing is all part of the experience of an epic ski day. Check out some of Outpost’s suggestions for an ideal finish to any ski day – no matter what sort of experience you’re looking for.

• In need of a pick-me-up after skiing Jackson Hole Mountain Resort? Check out the dangerously delicious Insomnia at The Spur. A white Russian topped off with a shot of espresso, it’s the perfect start to an evening with friends.  Pair your drinks with the Tuna Tacos, deliciousness come in twos.
• Brought your dancing shoes? Grab a pitcher of the seasonal draught at the world-famous Mangy Moose, and enjoy whatever musician is playing tunes on their legendary stage that night. Don’t leave without a slice of pepperoni.

• Sometimes, everyone needs to feel a little fancy. Saddle up to the Handle Bar at the four seasons and go for one of the specialty cocktails. Weather permitting, bundle up again and enjoy your bevvy fireside on the patio, overlooking the base of the resort.
• After ripping Snow King laps, put your feet up at Hayden’s Post, located inside Snow King Resort, and enjoy that hard-earned glass of red. Snag a cozy chair by the fireplace and go for the cheesy mac!
• Any backcountry adventure deserves a pint at the Stagecoach bar, located conveniently at the base of Teton Pass in Wilson, WY. Billiards and beers are a great way to wind down from south side lap.

Images © Taylor Glenn

On an unassuming wintery day, we snuggle underneath blankets, as a pair of Belgian horses pull our sleigh over the uneven valley floor of the Elk Refuge. The ideal way to experience the Refuge in the wintertime is by sleigh ride. On designated tours that depart on scheduled busses from the visitor center in town, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service operates horse-drawn sleighs that bring onlookers into close proximity with the elk, providing a unique and awe-inspiring interaction between its passengers and the elk themselves.

As we set off, the herd lays scattered, with mothers and their young in the far off distance. A few embark at once on this tour, traveling along an invisible circle that circumnavigates a group of bull elk, who sit patiently despite our presence. As our sleigh moves in closer, the elk pay us no mind. With each of us making sure to stay seated, the sleigh does not startle or arouse any suspicion in them. 

A herd of 20 to 30 bull elk calmly sleep, eat and chew their cud while we snap photos only ten feet away. But far off in the distance, a herd becomes spooked, causing over a 100 elk to start running along the horizon, in one single, swift movement that is like an elegant dance performed in unison. 

With a tempered voice, our guide — who is also the driver of the sleigh — educates us on the intricacies of the herd, while answering our probing questions. We are treated to a picturesque landscape of town and Snow King Ski Resort in the distance, visible behind the haze of snowflakes that begin to fall in greater number as we look on. Bored and restless, a few bulls spar with each other, clacking their antlers together in a delicate, skirmishing dance.

The guide moves the sleigh closer with a jolt — cold temperatures cause the runners of the sleigh to freeze to the ground as it sits, a cold that is barely noticeable due to the incredible scene that entrances us. Another bull approaches us from outside the herd, strutting between the sleighs with his head held high, while hissing at the others in an attempt to show off.

He stops and paws at the snow, looking for the grass that lies underneath. Our guide goes on to explain the purpose of the Refuge, while intermittently calming his horses. “The Refuge is here specifically for the ecosystem,” he says, as the snow and wind gently pick up. An immature bald or golden eagle (we can’t tell) floats overhead, reminding us that the Refuge is home to a host of species.

Eagles, trumpeter swans, water fowl, coyotes, wolves and bighorn sheep wander in and out of this protected land, surviving the winter season each in their own way. As we continue to observe, the only sounds we hear are the steady voice of our guide and the creaking of a neighboring sleigh. 

While casually leaning against the front rail, he laughingly admits that he “could talk all day about the elk.” The horses stomp nervously at the ground, as another nearby bull scratches behind his antlers, before resuming his ambling search for food. We are close enough to see the individual hairs of his shaggy coat, along with the subtle changes in the color of his antlers.

The Refuge sleigh ride is like briefly inhabiting another world, if only for a moment. With cameras held ready, the sleighs provide an opportunity to intimately observe the life of an elk herd in all its subtleties. As our tour draws to an end, we circle back toward our waiting bus, a welcome sight as the cold begins to seep into our bones. 

The elk are unfazed as we depart, and the frost of the wintery breeze bites at our fingertips as we emerge from the warmth of our wool blankets. Our guide encourages us to say hello to the horses, thanking them for transporting us into a magical landscape, before climbing onto our bus headed back to town. 

 

Established by Congress in 1912, the National Elk Refuge is the wintertime home to the largest elk herd in North America, as well as a variety of other species. Interested in the National Elk Refuge or reserving a private sleigh? Call 307.733.0277 or 1.800.772.5386 for more information.

Images © Taylor Glenn

It’s the classic Rocky Mountain Christmas; thick, soft flakes of snow drift lazily onto the roof of a cozy cabin, warm from a crackling fire and lit by sparkling lights from a beautiful Christmas tree.

There are a few options for selecting this holiday centerpiece, but a trip into the forest surrounding Jackson Hole is always more rewarding than a stop at the grocery store tree stand. This is a tradition that many families around the valley look forward to in the crisp weeks after Thanksgiving.

Small, unpaved roads wind along frozen creeks and snowy ridges into the trees outside of town. A sturdy vehicle is a must for a wintertime trip into the woods, as are plenty of warm clothes. You won’t regret your steaming thermos of hot cocoa. Leather gloves will keep your hands protected during the cutting process, which is most easily done with a hand saw. They will also keep your hands from getting sap-encrusted while pulling the tree back to your car.

Head out early in the day, leaving plenty of time to hunt for the perfect tree, and extra in case you discover an ideal spot for sledding or snowman construction. A wintertime forest is a magical place. Snow falls silently, a glittering blanket as the earth sleeps. Tracks made by tiny paws dot the pillowy tops of logs and stones.

Taking a tree from the wild is more than a wintry family adventure. When done correctly, it benefits the area’s forests and wildlife. This cherished holiday pleasure is also a way to ensure that Jackson’s forests remain healthy and strong.

“Some people worry that harvesting a tree from the forest is harmful or causes damage to the ecosystem,” says Mary Cernicek, Public Affairs Officer for the Bridger-Teton National Forest. “But it’s actually the opposite. We rely on people harvesting Christmas trees as an important part of our management plans.” Coniferous trees – pine, fir and spruce – are not only ideal holiday decorations, but can also threaten other species of trees if not managed.

These kinds of trees grow relatively quickly, and can crowd out other native trees, especially aspens. When conifers grow in aspen stands, they devour nutrients and spread thick boughs, depriving aspen saplings of sunlight. Slowly but steadily, the conifers will outcompete the aspens.

“We love letting everyone know that they’re not only getting a unique tree, they’re actually helping out the forest as well as a lot of local wildlife.”

“Aspens are preferred in these areas, primarily because of their importance to native species,” explains Cernicek. “We love letting everyone know that they’re not only getting a unique tree, they’re actually helping out the forest as well as a lot of local wildlife.” Quaking aspen provides homes and food for a spectacular array of Rocky Mountain animals: moose, elk, mule deer, black bear, porcupine, snowshoe hare, beaver, moths and butterflies, small rodents and dozens of kinds of birds. 

You might be lucky enough to glimpse a few of these local forest residents on your own Christmas tree hunt, especially if you follow the recommendation and find a tree to remove from an aspen stand.

It won’t be tree farm perfect, manicured into a geometrically flawless cone. But it will be unique, and have a rugged, natural beauty.

Your living room will smell of fresh pine as you kick back in front of the fire, your fingers turning pink and sticky as you string cranberries and popcorn to drape among its boughs. Colorful packages collect beneath the branches as Christmas draws near. Fully lit and caringly decorated, the tree will not only represent the merriest time of the year, but serve as a reminder of your wonderful snowy adventure in the woods.

Visit the Jackson Hole Visitor Center at 532 North Cache to pickup a tree cutting permit and map of harvest areas.

Images © Taylor Glenn

 

Jackson Hole has always drawn adventurers and those who crave the excitement and beauty of the mountains. It is a legendary place, especially for those hunting some of the best skiing and snowboarding in the world.

In the early 1960s, Paul McCollister and Alex Morley first envisioned Rendezvous Mountain as a part of that legend. In the winter of 1965, the first skiers enjoyed the fruits of their labor. McCollister and Morley sought to create a place that would rival the ski resorts of Europe, and to that end, built an astounding 2.5-mile tram to the peak of Rendezvous Mountain.

In 1992, the Kemmerer family bought the ski area from its original owners. Unwaveringly dedicated to investing in their home state of Wyoming, the three siblings utilized funds from their family’s mining business to expand and upgrade access to Rendezvous Mountain. They understood the vision of McCollister and Morley, and wanted to take the next steps towards realizing the dream of slopes as excellent as the Alps.

50 years later, Jackson Hole Mountain Resort is one of the most celebrated ski areas on earth. For visitors and locals alike, the mountain is a snowy ground zero for all kinds of winter fun. This year, in honor of the mountain’s 50^th anniversary, the season is studded with special events including the opening of a new lift, reunion days for former staff, and a free concert at the season’s close.

The day after a snowy Thanksgiving, many in Jackson Hole abandoned the temptations of Black Friday discounts to help kick off these anniversary celebrations at an event called Flashback Friday. Lift tickets were sold at their original 1965 price – only $6 – and all rentals and ski waxing services were the same price. Across the mountain, food and drinks were likewise sold at throwback prices. Skiers and snowboarders were encouraged to celebrate by wearing their own throwback apparel, an invitation that many accepted with gusto! The slopes were bustling with locals and visitors boasting their favorite vintage cold weather gear.

In addition to their dedication to fun and adventure, Jackson Hole Mountain Resort champions stewardship of Jackson Hole, both in the natural world and in the community’s culture. In support of these deep-rooted values proceeds of all the tickets sold on Friday were donated to local charities. Other anniversary events will also support these organizations, including Teton County Search and Rescue and Honoring our Veterans.

The mountain has grown since its opening day in 1965, now boasting 13 lifts and 2,500 acres of top notch in-bound terrain. The array of activities beyond the slopes has expanded, as have the options for lodging, excellent food, drinks and shopping just steps away from the tram.

Despite these changes, the reasons that bring us to to Jackson Hole Mountain Resort still endure. Like the earliest ski pioneers in Jackson Hole, we crave the exhilaration of flying through pristine snow high above the valley floor. We revel in the adventure of new runs, the unparalleled views from the top, and the genuine warmth of friendships forged in the snow. 

Images © Taylor Glenn

The sensation is profoundly satisfying; lifting the full weight of an axe above your head, and driving it downward with each muscle, striking true. The round of wood crackles as it gives way, tumbling to the newly-frosted ground. For many in Jackson Hole, this is repeated hundreds of times in a ritual of seasonal transition. As summer wanes, and cooler temperatures foretell the snowy season ahead, it is time to gather and store firewood as a key source of heat for homes around the valley.

 It begins on a chilly autumn morning, clad in layers of flannel and down, a sturdy pair of gloves stuffed in your pocket. Sliding into a pickup with friends, you bump down an unpaved road into the forest in search of a spot with plentiful deadfall. The chainsaw sputters to life, and the harvest begins as it has for centuries. There is a poetry in this labor, the most recent iteration in the ancient task of gathering fuel from the wild in preparation for harder months. After a few hours of lugging rounds of sticky and fragrant pine and heaving them into the bed of the pickup, you are grateful to climb back into the cab and let your tired shoulders rest on the way home.

When the pile of freshly-sliced rounds of pine is unceremoniously dumped onto your lawn, the work begins anew. It’s hard not to love the feel of a well-worn axe in your hands: the smoothness of the sturdy wooden handle, the full heft of the stout head and sharp edge. It is the weight of the thick metal head that gives each swing extra strength and focus to bite into the wood.

One of the thickest, sturdiest rounds serves as the platform atop which the others are placed for optimum chopping. It’s less than ideal to swing at a log that’s on the ground for a variety of reasons. Impact to the top can drive the bottom edges of the round into the dirt, decreasing efficiency of each swing. Also, aiming at something so low is a wonderful way to strain your back. Setting your target a foot or so off the ground ensures smoother, safer chopping.

The perfect swing, however, is a question of style. Some would suggest that the proper stroke begins with a grip near the base of the handle, and the other hand – typically your dominant hand – near the axe’s head. As the axe swings down, the upper hand slides down to meet the lower on the handle. Others prefer to keep both hands low on the axe throughout the lift and swing of the tool. While the cost of this method can be decreased accuracy, and will likely tire you out a little more quickly, it does merit a few extra style points.

No matter how you swing it splitting wood is a great way to enjoy being outdoors during the downtime of off-season. Pretty soon you’ll be curled in front of a crackling fire enjoying the fruits of your labor while the icy wind whips the snow into drifts outside. Sounds pretty nice…

Images © Taylor Glenn