i
wasn’t thrilled at the idea of spending a week in
a tiny cabin in a small, unknown Wyoming town,
but one of my best friends insisted that we go on
a nature-centered vacation — plus she wanted a
break from the New York City summer. Brenna
Chase and I met in Salt Lake City, hopped in an overpriced
taxi, rented a car, purchased some groceries — including
beer with a maximum ABV of four percent — and began
the three-hour drive north toward Afton, Wyoming.
Nestled in the Star Valley, the town of nearly 2,000 is
home to the world’s largest elk antler arch — it bears the
town’s name over the center of the town’s main strip. The
summer weather was perfect; it was warm, with no humidity
and a couple of intense hail-producing thunderstorms.
We were lucky to catch the Lincoln County Fair, where
I finally tried not one but two fried Oreos, and watched an
unexceptional Beatles cover band donning cheap, choppy
wigs.
Our trip was centered on exploring Grand Teton
National Park and Yellowstone. The drive to both parks
was filled with views of quaint cabins and small towns
throughout the Star Valley with the Snake River winding
below. Once we arrived in Jackson, which is just south of
the Grand Tetons, I was surprised by how many tourists
filled the beautiful ski resort town comprised of antique
wooden buildings and expensive restaurants. I splurged on
elk tacos at Lotus in Jackson and indulged in some of the
best Pad See Ew I’ve had outside of Bangkok at Thai Plate.
The National Elk Refuge along the way to Grand Teton
was filled with grazing elk, bison and deer. The Grand
Tetons look fake, honestly — like the backdrop paintings
used in old movies. Regardless of photos I’ve seen, nothing
can quite capture the crevasses, the minuscule traces of
snow and the jagged edges of these gargantuan beauties.
For our first hike, we picked what we thought was a
six-mile loop around Phelps Lake, but the entire loop is
actually about nine miles. The landscape is diverse and
the hike winds through dense pine forests, along low-lying
creeks, streams, open meadows filled with wildflowers,
rocky terrain and views of the Tetons.
I became quite irritated as I passed teenagers blasting
music on their phones but later realized the noise was
to deter grizzly bears, which kill 14 people a year. After
seeing that statistic printed on a sign in the park I sang
everything from "The Sound of Music" to "Beauty and the
Beast" while intermittently shouting, “I am big; I am loud”
over and over again while clutching my rented bear spray.
So as the perfect hike on the perfect day came to a
close, my GPS alerted me that the main highway back to
Afton was closed, and instead my iPhone routed us through
spotty back roads — where the speed limit dropped to 15
mph in places.
Suddenly, the pavement ended and we hit a rocky road.
About a mile in, our little GM eco car ran over a big-ass rock,
and we heard a loud cracking sound. I just knew that we hit
the oil pan, or something equally as important, and then the
car stopped accelerating and the dashboard check engine light
and other warning lights lit up like a Christmas tree.
So in the middle of nowhere, with no cell phone service,
I push the car slightly up hill to the side of the road,
grabbed my water bottle, a couple of layers of clothes and
my purse, as Brenna and I started walking back towards the
last town we passed through. Luckily, a large truck with a
nice couple stopped and offered us a ride. They made room
for us in the back, but left a James Bond-looking gun case
in the middle seat between Brenna and me.
Once we arrived back in town, we split up in order to get
a new rental car and guide a tow truck back to our broken
down car in the middle of nowhere. So I waited at a gas
station, while Brenna hopped in a taxi to the Jackson Airport.
Finally a tow truck arrived, and I spent the next two
hours with a guy named Burt who shared stories about
guns, hunting big game and telling me he wouldn’t fight
off a bear to protect his girlfriend.
“I can probably run faster than most people,” I said. I
thought if I was going to die in the wilds of Wyoming, it
was going to be because I was mauled to death after being
caught by a wolf or bear, and not by a tow truck driver who
smoked while fueling his vehicle.
Two hours later, with a broken rental car leaking oil
everywhere in tow, we made it back to the gas station
where Brenna was waiting with our new rental car. She
had to do some maneuvering to lose a guy who followed
her from the airport, to a restaurant and then to the gas
station — our agreed upon meeting point because our
phones were dead.
We drove 35 mph back through the winding mountain
roads as what seemed like hundreds of deer darted in front
of us. Ten minutes from our quaint little cabin, a police
car stopped us. The officer told us to speed up because we
could be “rear-ended because we were driving too slow.”
We got back to Afton around 2:30 am.
We decided to brave the summer crowds at Yellowstone
a few days later. Driving through Yellowstone was like
being teleported back what I believe the '70s must have
been like — the sun cast the trees along the continental
divide with a soft orange-yellow glow, similar to the tint
of all of the photos I’ve ever seen from the '70s. And
scanning through the radio stations, we heard Cat Stevens;
Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young; Fleetwood Mac and the
Carpenters, to name a few, so I’m still convinced that we
traveled slitghtly back in time.
But that feeling soon faded as we arrived at the lodge
outside of Old Faithful. If you do not like crowds, this
place is not for you. I’m glad I saw the predictable cone
geyser, but people were touching and bumping into me to
get the best angle on their iPads, yes; people take iPads to
national parks, and watching the whole event through their
phones.
A walking path surrounding Old Faithful winds around
other geysers and other geothermal phenomena that the
dinosaurs most likely walked through, but there’s nothing
quite like people who litter and smoke in national parks to
totally kill the mood. I yelled at a tourist to, “Stop smoking
and put out your cigarette — it’s fire season!” He started
to say; “Oh sorry, I didn’t know,” and I cut him off and
threatened to report him to the park rangers.
The most spectacular site I saw in Yellowstone is the
Grand Prismatic Spring. The rainbow colored hot spring
is “the third largest spring in the world,” and its multiple
colors come “from different species of thermophile (heat-
loving) bacteria living in the progressively cooler water
around the spring,” according to Yellowstonepark.com.
And when the wind blows, the light mist of tepid water
feels refreshing, even on a hot summer day while shuffling
through hoards of other tourists.
Wyoming is breathtaking and all of the locals were
helpful and welcoming — aside from the stalker. although a
square state may not be on top of your list, I can’t recommend
visiting Grand Teton National Park enough — you may even
get to have your own experience hitchhiking with friendly
strangers.
PHOTOS BY CORINNE BOYER
PHELPS LAKE IN GRAND TETON NATIONAL PARK
GRAND PRISMATIC SPRING IN YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK
45 Seconds from
BROADWAY
by
Neil Simon Directed by Patrick Torelle
A warm-spirited tribute... a theatrical valentine. – Variety
Oct. 13–15, 19–22, 26–28
For tickets, visit
$19 Tickets / $15 Thursdays
$15 Seniors and Students
TheVLT.com
2350 Hilyard St, Eugene / 541.344.7751
eugeneweekly.com • October 5, 2017
17