Jackson Hole, Wyoming: The Dichotomy of a Ski Town

I wasn't entirely sure what to expect when I arrived in Jackson after a six hour drive that took me over Togwotee Pass in a snowstorm and checked into a room at the Anvil Motel. I'd read stories, seen movies, and heard my friends talk about how amazing the terrain was, so I was excited for that. It was a place that was on my "Snowboard Bucket List," and it seemed as good a time as any -- it was mid-February, and I knew that winter would be over before I knew it.

I ventured a couple blocks into town to get some food and beer from the Silver Dollar Bar & Grill. They had plenty of beer from the Snake River Brewery on tap, and the plate of nachos I ordered seemed directly proportional to Rendezvous Mountain itself. Casually observing the atmosphere, I noted that I had never seen so many expertly-crafted cowboy hats and boots with hardly a speck of dirt on them in any other town in Wyoming. 

Nachos loaded with beef, cheese, jalapenos, and beans at the Silver Dollar Bar

A guy I met in firefighter training who had spent the previous winter ski-bumming in Jackson told me that it was one of the more ostentatious ski towns -- probably on par with Aspen, Breckenridge, and Telluride. But I had to experience it for myself. 

Not wanting to spend the rest of the night hanging out in my motel room, I stopped into the Million Dollar Cowboy Bar, where patrons who fly in from Texas and the East Coast probably run up million-dollar tabs. I struck up a conversation with a couple of snowmobilers who had come up from Denver for the weekend, and what started as "a beer and a shot of bourbon" turned into "several beers and several shots of bourbon."

The Million Dollar Cowboy Bar

A big mug of coffee and about 4 ibuprofen were enough to get me on the road to the ski area the next morning. The lift tickets at Jackson Hole run for $117 a day -- about the cost of 2 days at several lesser-known ski areas that I frequent (that still have plenty of impressive terrain). 

The people at Jackson Hole inevitably fall into two categories -- the locals who are doing whatever it takes to live the Rocky Mountain Dream, and the rich tourists who fly in to spend a week a year at their time-share and spice up their life of business meetings and dinner parties with a taste of the West. But which "West," is that, exactly? The version that includes luxury hotels, 5-star restaurants, overpriced cowboy attire, $15 cocktails, shelves of t-shirts and accessories with the "Jackson Hole" logo plastered all over, little bottles of huckleberry syrup, and photo booths where the whole family can dress up like pioneers and get a sepia-toned memento of their time in a place that is made what it is only because of modern comforts like electricity, air travel, and mass media? Or the mountain wilderness that has seduced adventurers for the past two hundred years and came to be defined by rugged individualism, pragmatism, and the freedom to create one's own path?

And then there's this guy.

After waiting in line for about 45 minutes, I finally got on the tram. The views from the top are amazing, and Rendezvous Bowl is sick, but nothing is worth a 45 minute-wait, especially when you just paid $117 for 7 hours of skiing/riding.

These signs are all over, and there 

aren't actually cliffs below a lot of them

I spent the next two days exploring as much of the mountain as I could, and found it to be pretty unremarkable considering all the hype it gets. I'm sure it's sick on a powder day, but what ski area (in the West) isn't? Some of the traverses are pretty awful, but traverses are always awful on a snowboard, and most ski areas with any normal amount of acreage have at least a couple of painful traverses.

Terrain on the far left side of the ski area.

Totally not worth the traverse to get back.

As with any town, Jackson has a diverse selection of restaurants, from upscale sushi bars and steakhouses to lower-key diners and pizza parlors. In an effort to cultivate the "western" vibe of the town, many of them offer selections like bison, elk, and Snake River trout.

Admittedly, the bison sausage-and-mushroom 

pizza from Pizzeria Caldera was pretty good

Jackson itself is cute, cozy, and certainly not lacking in scenery -- but much like Breckenridge and Aspen, it doesn't feel genuine. Whether it's about money or being a part of America's ski culture, the kind of people who ski at Jackson Hole are the kind of people who expect other people to be impressed by the fact that they ski at Jackson Hole. It's not that they don't genuinely enjoy skiing -- it's that they care about prestige -- be it financial, social, or both.

It's not a real ski town if they don't have Christmas lights

on their trees for the entire duration of the ski season

Towards the end of my second day, I had the privilege of riding the gondola with a family that included a six-year-old girl with a smartphone and a couple of teen boys talking about the ski towns where their parents own property. And who knows, they may grow up to be great skiers and snowboarders. But they'll still care about the prestige of where they do whatever it is they do.

I stopped at the Roadhouse Brewery -- a little pub on WY-22 between Teton Village and Jackson -- for a couple pints and some $6 happy hour tacos. The porter, dubbed "Tower of the Castle," was brewed with sweet potatoes and served on nitro, and it was deliciously thick and smooth. The pale ale was nothing incredibly special, but the place had a refreshingly chilled-out vibe, and the patrons actually struck up conversations with one another.

Pizza ... French Fry ... Pizza ... French Fry

At some point that evening, I realized, I can have this. I make enough money that I could come here several times a year if I want to. I'm glad I went to Jackson Hole and experienced it for myself, but I'd rather go somewhere else -- somewhere that feels more like the West that I know and love. I'm not wired to love money.