Goin' Out West ::::: the drive to Jackson Hole, WY :: January 15, 2012

Wow. Where to start?  When the decision came to move to Jackson, Wyoming for some party-work-ski-live time, it was unanimous.  I already had some buddies living out in the high country, and they were part of a lease already, so I said why not, see you guys in a couple weeks.  I decided to stay with family through the Christmas and New Year holiday which could have been a good decision or not depending on how you look at it.  From what I'd heard it had been a relatively mild winter in a place that is famous for record snowfalls.  I began my journey in the middle of January to what I would find not to be a lack of snow.  Leaving from Birmingham, I would venture on to pass through Tupelo, Memphis, Little Rock, Fort Smith, Muskogee, Tulsa all the way to Wichita, KS.  I stayed for the night with a family friend.  Her boyfriend Dave had a man cave in the basement.  We shared a few laughs and he came to tell me how he had done exactly what I was doing, a good old ski bum.  "I lived and worked the slopes in Telluride, Colorado for 26 years man," he said. After a few glasses of red I was out like a light, but just giddy about the trip to come.
5:00 a.m. came and I joined the hordes of truckers and commercial vehicles beating down the interstate and pointed my nose towards Colorado.  If you've ever driven through Kansas, I'm sorry.  For those that haven't stay away at all costs.  Sure I was all excited about getting to  see countryside yet unseen by my own two eyes, but wow, Kansas ain't much to look at.  Your drivin', drivin'... WINDMILL!  The simplest roadside shape will grab your attention in place of the miles and miles of farmland your immersed in.  It's 430+ miles just from Wichita to Denver.  Yea.  Finally you get to Colorado and you feel like your making some progress, sort of.  In Denver you can see the majestic rockies off in the distance.  Beautiful and breathtaking but it was a different mountain pass I was seeking, and to get there I had to get through 'Hoback Junction.'  Kind of like the native american backdrop of cities, towns and street names in Mississippi, the names get weirder and more outrageous the further west you go.  Pueblo, Cheyenne, Blackfoot, Muskogee to name a few.  I got to Denver around noon and had lunch with a good friend of mine, Ms. Chelsea Buell, a fellow Rebel and show-goer herself she was glad to see me come through and she got a free lunch out of it.  I rather enjoyed it.  A person across the country and doing her own thing, "Hey I know you lets have lunch."  Another turn to the North and off towards Jackson.  Crossing the state line in Wyoming was another point where it feels like you've made progress.  Nope, 8 hours til Jackson still. The roaming pastures and distant windmills gave way to rolling hills and yellow sandy looking sediment that rose toward the heavens with the tops just frosted with a light snow.  Mild winter rings in my head again as the temperature starts to drop.  It was probably  50-55 degrees in Denver, comfortable in a tee shirt in the sun.  It had dropped 15 degrees by the time I got to Laramie.  5 hours left.  Afternoon turned to dusk, and before dark I stopped to clean my windshield with hot water and put some more clothes on.  The intensity of the last 5 hours began to sink in.  Changed out of my Chacos(painstakingly), figured it was time.  Laramie actually had a higher elevation than the town of Jackson.  7100 feet vs. 6400 feet.  Anyway, it's the capitol and the University of Wyoming is there.  Maybe I'll check it out next time.  I put it to the floor and ascended into the mountains in the dark.  Hairpin turns and switchbacks kept me on my toes, but thanks be to God the roads were in pretty good shape.  A little sketchy outside Laramie in Hoback Junction but I managed.  I sure came at the right time of year considering we got dumped on the next 3 months.  Finally made it to Jackson, hit state road 22 towards Grand Teton National Park and turned into my destination at The Aspens.  What a long strange trip it had been.  WAY worth it.  The group met me with many beers in hand.  They had prematurely celebrated my arrival and had a few before I got there. Not to worry, there's always another Pabst in the fridge.

td