Jackson Hole, WY, August 30th

Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Now dis be da place! Jackson Hole (not a city but an area containing the town of Jackson, which is also called Jackson Hole, got it?). Here, one can 'play' at being western. The old store fronts look like John Wayne movie sets, denims are de rigueur, and the locals recently voted against postal delivery, preferring instead to pick up the mail at the post office, the town meetin' place, howdy pardner. A resort community, but much more diverse in both appearance and population , and seemingly less contrived, than Sun Valley. The place which elected the first all female city council, in the 20's, referred to as the Petticoat Rulers. How 'bout that!

A clear moonlit night, sipping a cold mug of Snake River Lager at the Silver Dollar Bar (literally, 2,032 of them imbedded in the bar) listening to the Steam Powered Airplane cowboy band playing "Dixie" for seven elderly women (half smashed) who are loudly proclaiming that Stuttgart, Arkansas is the duck hunting capital of the world. It's alive, it's a-happenin', it's america.

It was never my intention to bore you (and me) with mere travelogue, yet I can't help but remark upon the awesome and breathtaking vistas this part of the country has to offer. Every few miles, my audible reactions grow in intensity to sheer childlike excitement. Perhaps it's comically typical of the newcomer city dude, but now I see, literally, what all the hoopin' and hollerin' is all about.

Huge mountains of granite majestically (!) rise out of flat grasslands. Other mountains, dense with pine and cut deep by flowing rivers, create scenes Hallmark could only dream about. Wide stretches of dry valley bordered on either side by striated colorful limestone cliffs, like the walls of the Grand Canyon. Rolling lush farmland suddenly yielding to vast stretches of black lava. And all topped by a beautiful blue sky dotted with the whitest pillow of clouds ever painted.

Congested cities of rectangular steel and concrete are like distant planets. You know there out there, somewhere, but they don't seem to have much relevance. If you've never been to this part of the country, put it on the agenda. For myself, it's worth a second trip. And heed the advice of the large sign in eastern Idaho (unattached to any advertising) which simply states, "Warning to tourists: Do not laugh at the natives." Well put.

Historical sites along the way, too numerous to stop at them all: log cabins built by the settlers, Lewis & Clark signposts, Indian villages, and (my gosh) the first atomic power plant in the world built for peacetime use now a museum; this I had to see).

Here's a welcome twist: Dick Cheney's in town, and the Wyoming folk in this extremely Republican state (Cheney's own) are emphatically urging him to limit the oil drilling and coal mining rights, and to adopt a dramatically different environmental energy policy for the region. Yippee kai-A!!

Note: The three major "western" resort areas ( Sun Valley, Jackson Hole, and Telluride, CO) are all experiencing similar growing pains. The rich retirees, and otherwise, are moving in and slowly changing the landscape (both figuratively and literally). This greatly displeases the locals (most of who are descendants of the settlers) as they see their way of life being drastically upset. I think the locals ought to sit down and have a little chat with the Indians.