The Tetons
The Tetons feel like the old west.
Half hour south of the South Entrance to Yellowstone, this mountain range stands out against the valley beside it, and this contrast only adds to the ruggedness of it all. You leave the plains of Yellowstone, drive through the silver and grey matchsticked remains of a decades old forest fire, and then you see the sharp, pointy rocks rising up above the trees, both alive and dead. And that’s when you know you’ve arrived.
The whole place exudes this jagged, leathery toughness not unlike the grey rocks jutting out from the earth in a gigantic and unforgiving wall. And it’s also beautiful.
On my first trip through, my girlfriend and I skipped the parks campgrounds and found a spot in a dispersed campground in the hills across 191. It was a clearing on a hill, with just about the best view of the mountains you could imagine. We couldn’t believe it wasn’t taken.
Then, a couple hours later, when the wind was shaking our tent, and we were acutely aware of the fact that we were alone on an open space in the middle of Grizzly country, and all we had for dinner was smoke salmon, the empty site made a lot more sense.
But we made it. And now, we cannot wait to make it back.