G&C Summer 2017
Blogpost: 002
June 17
It’s the seventeenth of June on a
Saturday of 2017. I can’t speak for my fiancé Charlotte but I know that I,
personally had a horrible nights sleep in our quaint hotel room of Elko, NV.
Not for any real or rational reason, mind you, I’ve never found myself
able to sleep soundly in temporary lodging quarters for my dreams always fall
into nightmares which morph into restlessness soon after waking.
I
suspect this to be a result of some evolutionary defect bred into modern
man/woman; a side effect of our nomadic ancestors whose ever-changing
environments were full of danger and uncertainty. Regardless of the actual
reason I somehow managed to squeeze in a couple hours of acceptable slumber
before being woken by my beloved between the hours of seven and eight in the
AM.
We
collected our things and helped ourselves to the continental breakfast provided
free of charge with our room which was lacking to say the least, but then again
things that are “good” seldom come “free-of-charge.” At least they had diet
yogurt and pre wrapped cinnamon buns, which were promptly pillaged by my fiancé
and myself before our departure from Elko, Nevada.
Our
first stop was in Twin Falls Idaho where the “Niagara Falls of the American
West (Shoshone Falls),” as Chot had described to me resided. The township
leading up to the falls was almost reason enough for the detour; a small
agricultural community that couldn’t have been home to more than a couple
thousand working women and men, but what struck us both as “odd,” was the
apparent economic wealth incredulously visible from the confines of our
vehicle.
Roads
were freshly paved and painted, lined with newly erected mansions and luxury
homes. Neither of us could comprehend what had brought so much economic revival
to this little speck of potato country, that is until we came across the
massive Chobani factory; the genesis of America’s favorite brand of flavored
Greek yogurt. Suddenly, the cookie-cutter manors started to make sense.
Pressing
on, we arrived at the falls where a slew of tourists were waiting for us;
taking pictures and mucking about the grounds and we were no better. We took
our photographs (Selfies and all) all the while getting sprayed with light
runoff of the never-ending aquatic cascade that gave birth to rainbows in the
mist.
Charlotte
found great amusement in watching pigeons soar and dive at the whim of the
winds produced by the falls; her wonderment of the natural world will always
amaze me. Watching her revel in nature is often more fascinating then the
natural phenomenon itself. That’s a lie. It always is.
Anyway,
we carried on our motorway pilgrimage to the lush and mountainous domain of the
Grand Tetons of Jackson Hole Wyoming. Charlotte’s family has been coming to
this little slice of green paradise for years to ride horses and breath in the
crisp mountain air. I was fortunate enough to be invited last year (where I
also gained permission from Chot’s parents to marry).
Upon
our arrival we met up with Chot’s parents, her heavily bearded brother Jim
(whom had a brand-spanking new Derby perched atop his crazy head of excessive
hair), and some family friends. A friendly bunch of (new) family members.
Our
activities for the remainder of the day were minimal but nonetheless enjoyable;
we conversed, dinned on delicacies that put the taste buds of me and my
fiancé’s tongues into a euphoric frenzy that made us both feel like pampered
sultans, and we finished off the night playing pool in Jackson Hole’s famous Million
Dollar Cowboy Bar: if you could somehow crack-open Cormack McCarthy’s
brainbox you’d find a sight identical to this place.
The
barstools were saddles, silver dollars of the civil war lined the counter tops,
and everywhere you looked there was some ferocious taxidermied beast on display
behind glass with hunting riffles you could “win” with the purchase of a raffle
ticket. A band played classic country music in the back of the pad where
western-obsessed couples square—danced and ho-downed. I half-expected to find
the reanimated corpse of Sergio Leone capturing the action from behind a
camera. This was and always will be one of the few American communities where
Dixie never died.
After
a few games of pool my fiancé and I started to feel the 450 miles we traveled to
get there and fled back to our hotel to retire for the night. We’ll be spending
the next week here and I’m looking forward to every minute.
Start: Elko, NV
End: Jackson Hole, WY
Traveled: 450 miles
Traveled: 450 miles
Shoshone Falls:
Million Dollar Cowboy Bar:
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