Jackson Hole

I went with a group of friends to Jackson Hole this weekend. It was beautiful and charming, and I am in love with the lakes and rivers there. There were 8 of us, four of each sex, and that meant that the dynamics were complicated. We went on a white water rafting trip down the Snake River, hiked to Taggart Lake, enjoyed local restaurants, and drove home. I learned a lot and I want to share, but rather than a travelogue, I am going to give you three vignettes.


1. Our campsite was on a mini peninsula, flanked by the Snake River on one side and a stream on the other. My tent was within 7 feet of either one. It was incredibly overwhelming to my civilized senses and I lost track of all things cemented, regimented, and ....... While this beauty was dazzling, it equated extremely low temperatures during the nights. A sleeping bag rated at 55 degrees is as useful as wrapping up in paper towels. The first night I never warmed up in my covers. I lay stiffly, in and out of a doze, and needing to use the bathroom. Finally, I dragged myself out of my tent and tried to put my rainbo's on. I couldn't tell which way was up, and I fell over. It became easier to know which way was up sitting on the ground - I pushed up and rigidly got my bearings, and switched my flashlight. I found that my joints were frozen, and my knees wouldn't bend. I walked stiffly, sadly, as if I were suffering from MS. My eyesight was sketchy and I rattled along. The bathroom at the KOA was a haven. I ran my hands under hot water for twenty minutes (this is not an exaggeration folks) and finally the color came back. Then I did the same for my feet. I was worried that at some point someone would notice that I was gone and resigned myself to returning to my hell, as described by Dante. When I climbed back into the tent, my friend rolled over and whispered that she had been about to send out a search party. Turns out she was also freezing. When it came time to get out of bed and get ready for river rafting, we literally flew out of our tent and got dressed. Irony: we put on even less clothing than we had on before to go raft down a river fed by melted snow.


2. My first rafting trip was during a summer camp for girls 12-18 years old, a program for the youth in our church. Traditionally these camps have encouraged first aid knowledge and craft-making. One year our leaders wised up, knowing we were always jealous of the scouts' adventures in nature, and took us on a 3-day rafting trip down the American River in California. I was so scared to get on the raft the first day, and I made about five trips to the bathroom before I could leave. After the first hour on the river I realized that riding the rapids is stellar and fulfilling. This weekend I was ready to ride. I sat in the front and took the brunt of the waves, each time experiencing an incredible brain freeze. I gave all I had to paddle through the rapids and propel our raft as fast as possible through the rapids. That is what makes it so incredible, to have this dialogue between my own energy and the energy of the river.


3. The third vignette comes in the form of photos!



The crew!