Alta Tude

Alta Tude – Alta, Wyoming May 22nd – June 2nd, 2009

When we arrived at Bryan and Julie’s Log Home or should I say compound in Alta, Wyoming we walked in, dropped our bags and had an immediate and welcoming sense of being at home. We first thought we would only stay for a few days but that thought almost instantly turned into … well , maybe we could stay a week or so. What a great place to kick back for awhile, relax and check a few things off of our todo list. Plenty of relaxation but those bees that mysteriously penetrated the walls as if they were invisible kept me plenty busy with the fly swatter.

Happily out of our truck which now had permanently indented seats, we spent the first couple of days at the cabin just enjoying the mtn. views, reading, practicing the guitar and relaxing in the ankle deep grass of the aspen glade just outside the back door.

After a few days of bliss mixed with swatting bees, we decided we needed some exercise so I dug the road bikes out of the back of the garage and we headed up ski hill road all the way to the gates of Grand Targhee Ski Area at 8,000 feet and savored the reward for our pain with a 40 mph bomb all the way back down the hill toward home.

The next day, after a couple of hours studying fly knots and rummaging around through Bry’s fly gear that I found next to that box of booze that he hide in the garage I decided to try my hand at some of the local world class stream fishing. Well, it was world class beautiful scenery but I didn’t catch a damn thing. They say that even a fish can stay out of trouble if he just keeps his mouth shut but the real trouble was that the rivers were all blown out from the heavy run off from snow melt. We had a great time anyway and I had a rare encounter with a bull Moose that crashed suddenly out of the willow thicket just across the river only about thirty yards from me. It was incredible except for the 10 second stare down after he saw me and stopped still in his tracks. I though I might die soon and wasn’t sure what would happen next but luckily he turned and bolted back into the bush like he had just seen a pale white alien with a fishing hat on. That afternoon we hopped back on the road bikes and made the 20 mile roundtrip ride south through Teton Valley on the regional bike path and checked out one of Bryan’s old projects – Teton Springs. A very nice upscale golf community located just outside of Victor only about 20 minutes from Jackson Hole.

Because the fishing wasn’t so good and the rivers were near at flood stage we thought hmmmm - White Water!!! We booked a rafting trip on the Snake River for the next day. The trip was short because of the high flow rate but very sweet. We managed to stay right side up through the class 4 Lunch Counter rapids at 19,000 cfs. Afterward, we headed to the Town Square Tavern and sat outside on the second story balcony looking out over the heart of Jackson Hole in the late afternoon sun. Over a few beers we recalled the day’s historical narrative from our life-long boat guide Tom. What a character, what a job. In the past I’ve often considered pursuing a recreational adventure career like Tom’s and I think I would probably love it until maybe I had to do it everyday for a living and then I might not care for it as much.


After we dried out from the river we decided to check out the local Mountain Bike scene and headed to the Dead Horse Basin of Horseshoe Canyon just west across Teton Valley from Driggs. We climbed up out of the valley on the Bovine trail – straight up - then traversed on the Southbound trail around the mountain about three quarters up the slope, through wildflowers toward incredible views of the Grand Tetons and made numerous switch backs up even higher as we rounded the cone shaped mtn. before cresting the saddle and bombing down 1500’ of vertical float on the smooth, banked Slingshot single track trail. This was a classic cross country trail that was as good as the very center of your peanut butter and jelly sandwich (or even peanut butter and chocolate sandwich – Leo). The hot tub back at the cabin was beckoning our bumps and bruises and it definitely hit the spot.

The last few days we spent catching up on some house chores, Patti researched our itinerary for Europe and booked our Geneva flights and I worked on our Devil’s Tower rock climb planned for the next week. One afternoon I decided to mow and weed whack the grass on their lot…I mean Ranch, 5 hours later and covered from teeth to toe with little gooey bits of freshly shredded grass I dusted my hands off, took a swig of my now warm beer and nodded my head in acknowledgment of a job well done. Just as I put the mower away rain drops started to polka-dot the deck and we unfortunately had to cancel the best part that we had saved for last – an evening under the stars in front of the fire pit with a glass of wine and marshmallows dangling over amber coals.