Jackson Hole, where both ski bums and grown ups settle, is the 48-mile long valley that includes the town of Jackson, Jackson Hole Mountain Resort, Teton Village, Wilson, Moran, Kelly, and a town called, simply, Moose. I’ve never been a place more Christmas-y than the town of Jackson. Bundled in plaid wool and shearling, and accented with antlers, the town of Jackson glows quietly from Jackson Hole’s darkened valley. You can curl up in a log cabin at The Rustic Inn, feast in a log cabin at Café Genevieve or stir your drinks with plastic rifles at The Gun Barrel. Best of all, if Brad and I retired in Jackson, our sons, Gage and Cole, would visit often just to go to The Mangy Moose. Continue reading Holy Jackson Hole!
I won’t ski in Colorado. I live in Texas, but Colorado is out for me. It’s not the marijuana, it’s the elevation.
For me and my husband, Brad, elevation means altitude sickness. What is altitude sickness?
insomnia + fatigue + headache + nausea = altitude sickness
Altitude sickness is like the worst hangover you’ve ever had.
If you are going through Hell, keep going. – Winston Churchill
Why hike the Grand Canyon? Like most large things, it is hard to fathom the size of the canyon unless you experience it with your body, all twenty-seven breathtaking, relentlessly grueling miles. Then there is Phantom Ranch, an unreal collection of cabins in the bottom of the canyon that few people will experience.
As you can see, my boys love to travel.