“We’ve Been Talkin’ ‘Bout Jackson”
The Search for a Spot
After the long trek from Steamboat, we quickly learned that Jackson Hole’s bougie reputation extends to its camping, or lack thereof. Between “No Overnight Parking” signs in town and winter closures on the dispersed camping roads, staying in our vans was looking unlikely. Thankfully, after some scouting by Josh and Monika, we pivoted to a hotel in Victor, Idaho. While it meant a commute over Teton Pass, the trade-off was worth it: hot showers, a hot tub, and a breakfast spread that would fuel us for the steep terrain at the resort.
Riding the Big Red Box
Our first morning started with a trip up Jackson’s legendary tram. With 80s hair rock blaring over the loudspeakers and dozens of people packed in, it felt like being in a ski movie. Reaching the summit, we got a bird’s-eye view of iconic Corbet’s Couloir. It was closed for an upcoming competition, but staring down into that narrow, steep gully was enough to get the adrenaline pumping.
Finally Some Fresh Laps
We kicked things off with a lap down Rendezvous Bowl. To our surprise, the snow was pretty good, much more forgiving than what we’d found at Steamboat. After a few laps on the south side, we took a tip from a local we’d gotten a ride from at the bus stop earlier in the morning and migrated to the north side.
Whether he was trying to “locals-only” us or the sun just hadn’t done its work there yet, the snow was brutal. Imagine trying to surf down the pyramids of Giza and that pretty much covers it. We quickly retreated to the south side to enjoy the slushy terrain until our legs gave out. We ended the day the right way: a long soak in the hot tub and cooking dinner in our vans with the sliding doors facing each other so we could hang out and eat together, followed by board games and a cheesy old Bruce Lee kung fu flick.
The Hobacks and the Road North
Day two began with a gargantuan round of waffles before hitting the southern half of the mountain again, ending with the Hobacks on the resort’s southern fringe. This ended up being the highlight of Jackson: a playground of slushy moguls and natural half-pipes that felt miles long.
While Josh and Monika stayed for one last lap, Rose and I decided to preserve our legs for the next chapter. We began the drive north, tracing the eastern Tetons through snow-covered Idaho potato country and up past the western edge of Yellowstone. After scouting out a few campsites, we found one tucked into a spot in the Gallatin River canyon, heaters cranked and ready for whatever Big Sky throws at us tomorrow.
