Memories, Old and New of the Tetons Paolini Family Vacation September 2006

Teton range and Snake River

By A. Rod Paolini

2006

-2Telephone calls keep Kathy and me in touch with our daughter Nicole and son Jared, but dont enable us to share our lives together. Its sharing an experience, both good and bad, that keeps people together. One of my most wonderful and memorable experiences were two summers in the Grand Teton National Park in Wyoming. Over the years, I often related my experiences, and Kathy often declared that she wanted to see it.

The Tetons range, Jackson Hole (valley) and town of Jackson

To be honest, I had some misgivings: I had a serious summer romance in the second year, one that went foolishly beyond summer. Would memories overwhelm the present? Then in 2003, the annual TKE reunion was held in the Tetons, and while the memories came back, I realized that the place was so spectacular that I wanted to share it with my family and have new memories. Sky and Sage

-3Wednesday, September 20, 2006 We were to rendevous in Salt Lake City, Utah, and then catch a plane to Jackson, Wyoming. Having taken several friends recently to LAX airport, Nicole failed to remember that her flight departed from nearby BURbank, thus causing her to miss her flight. My first thought was with a rhetorical question: How could she do such a thing? To which I had to answer: Quite easily! I do it quite often. Appealing to Delta Airline, she was told that in order to take another flight that day, she would have to pay for another ticket at a cost of about $900. The other three members of the Paolini family are not demanding nor confrontational when it comes to these matters. But Nicole is a businesswoman (in addition to being an actor!), starting at the age of four when she conducted her own yard sale of used toys. And so she fought her way up the corporate ladder of flack catchers until she reached someone who could actually make a decision rather than just state company policy. Pay a service fee of $25 and catch the next flight to Salt Lake City! We met her at 10:00pm that evening, and our family was reunited. Before Nicole arrived, Jared, Kathy and I picked up a rental car, shopped for foodstuffs, and settled into our condominium. Even though we came to experience the great outdoors, I knew that it was important to have a place that was warm and cozy after a tiring day of hiking in order to relax and to bring us together. Besides such modern amenities as a washer-drier, garbage compactor, and separate bedrooms for each, the condo had a living room with large, stuffed chairs and sofa which centered around a fireplace that was located in the middle of wall-sized windows that provided a panoramic view of the Teton range. It was great space! My contribution to the trip was planning, arranging, and scheduling; and starting with day one I had scheduled a hike to Glacier Falls and Lupine Meadow. The former requires a hike up a moraine, which is a hill formed by an accumulation of earth and stones carried and finally deposited by a glacier. Stopping to catch our breath, we turned to view our ascent as accomplishment, and to gaze at the vista of cottonwood and aspen trees, lupine meadow, and distant ridges and mountains across the valley called Jackson Hole. For the mountain men, a "hole" indicated a high valley that was surrounded by mountains, and this was David Jackson's hole an early fur trapper; later, the possessive apostrophe was dropped. We did see Glacier Falls, but it was far too distant to accomplish, and so we descended, and as we did so, we heard an unusual sound that Jared likened to a Japanese flute. Why would someone be playing a Japanese flute in the wilderness? We started our second hike in which the trail lay in the woods but skirted the lupine meadow. We continued to hear the flute when Jared came to an abrupt halt and pointed to the flautist: a huge bull elk! He was magnificent. As the case with most animals, he had spotted us first and was looking directly at us; he showed no alarm but perhaps with some suspicion. He continued his bugling as naturalists call it. Without a female herd nearby, we guessed that he was only letting his fellow bucks know of his presence.

-4Thursday, September 21, 2006 Unless forced by necessity, the Paolini family does not set out early for its adventures; we finally were able to set out at noon for our hike around Two Ocean Lake, a seeming misnomer but as the day evolved and the weather turned foul, its size seemed to match its name. Turning off the main road (U.S. 26,89,191) on Pacific Creek Road and then on to an unpaved stone road, we arrived at the trailhead only to be received by a gentle rain. The question arose in everyones mind as whether or not to set forth on a hike, but Jared stated that a little rain shouldnt stop us; however, as he later explained, he meant only that we should wander about in the immediate vicinity. I, on the other hand, interpreted the remark that we should set forth on a 3.1 mile hike along the lake shore.

Trail around Two Ocean Lake

My boots are covered mostly by a nylon mesh that allowed the water from the grass and shrubs growing along the trail to drip on my boots as well as my pant legs. Within a few hundred yards, my feet were wet; but as my socks were wool which has thermal properties even when wet, they werent cold. Others did not seem to have my extreme situation. We all had slickers. About two-thirds of the way to the end of the lake, I thought I that I spied an animal across the lake but then thought it was a tree trunk. But a view through the binoculars proved it to be a bull moose who obviously saw us quite clearly as it stared directly at us. The rainfall increased, but as we were almost at the end of the lake, we decided to forge ahead and return along the other side to make a loop; besides, the other side looked more level. And then it snowed! Not soft white flakes, but a shower! We sloshed through the puddles on the path. I relinquished my lead position to Nicole who seemed positively energized--or perhaps just earnest to get out of the wet.

It was not pleasant, but it was somewhat enchanting because we were experiencing the rawness of nature. The area was a grassland that had turned golden with fall; there were stands of cottonwoods and aspens together with large green shrubs down at the waters edge. The sky was overcast and hazy white and the wind blew the snow flakes so they fell diagonally and swirled about.

-5We had thought of stopping at Jackson Lake Lodge for a drink, but now we just wanted to peel off our wet clothes, sip some hot tea, and sit by a fire. And so we did. Perhaps we were a bit too tired to talk, or perhaps no mundane topic seemed appropriate. I suggested some poetry and used Jareds computer to find Ovids Arethusa that had been read to Kathy and me when we were in Sicily.
Ovids Arethusa
In Elis first I breathd the living air, The chase was all my pleasure, all my care. None lovd like me the forest to explore, To pitch the toils, and drive the bristled boar. Of fair, tho masculine, I had the name, But gladly woud to that have quitted claim: It less my pride than indignation raisd, To hear the beauty I neglected, praisd; Such compliments I loathd, such charms as these I scornd, and thought it infamy to please. Once, I remember, in the summers heat, Tird with the chase, I sought a cool retreat; And, walking on, a silent current found, Which gently glided o'er the gravly ground. The chrystal water was so smooth, so clear, My eye distinguishd evry pebble there. So soft its motion, that I scarce perceivd The running stream, or what I saw believd. The hoary willow, and the poplar, made Along the shelving bank a grateful shade. In the cool rivulet my feet I dipt, Then waded to the knee, and then I stript; My robe I careless on an osier threw, That near the place commodiously grew; Nor long upon the border naked stood, But plungd with speed into the silver flood. My arms a thousand ways I movd, and tryd To quicken, if I coud, the lazy tide; Where, while I playd my swimming gambols oer, I heard a voice, and frighted sprung to shore. Oh! whither, Arethusa, dost thou fly? From the brooks bottom did Alpheus cry; Again, I heard him, in a hollow tone, Oh! whither, Arethusa, dost thou run? Naked I flew, nor coud I stay to hide My limbs, my robe was on the other side; Alpheus followd fast, th inflaming sight Quickend his speed, and made his labour light; He sees me ready for his eager arms, And with a greedy glance devours my charms. As trembling doves from pressing danger fly, When the fierce hawk comes sousing from the sky; And, as fierce hawks the trembling doves pursue, From him I fled, and after me he flew. First by Orchomenus I took my flight, And soon had Psophis and Cyllene in sight; Behind me then high Maenalus I lost, And craggy Erimanthus scald with frost; Elis was next; thus far the ground I trod With nimble feet, before the distancd God. But here I laggd, unable to sustain The labour longer, and my flight maintain; While he more strong, more patient of the toil, And fird with hopes of beautys speedy spoil, Gaind my lost ground, and by redoubled pace, Now left between us but a narrow space. Unwearyd I till now o'er hills, and plains, Oer rocks, and rivers ran, and felt no pains: The sun behind me, and the God I kept, But, when I fastest shoud have run, I stept. Before my feet his shadow now appeard; As what I saw, or rather what I feard. Yet there I could not be deceivd by fear, Who felt his breath pant on my braided hair, And heard his tread, and knew him to be near. Tird, and despairing, O celestial maid, Im caught, I cryd, without thy heavnly aid. Help me, Diana, help a nymph forlorn, Devoted to the woods, who long has worn Thy livery, and long thy quiver born. The Goddess heard; my pious prayr prevaild; In muffling clouds my virgin head was veild, The amrous God, deluded of his hopes, Searches the gloom, and thro the darkness gropes; Twice, where Diana did her servant hide He came, and twice, O Arethusa! cryd. How shaken was my soul, how sunk my heart! The terror seizd on evry trembling part. Thus when the wolf about the mountain prowls For prey, the lambkin hears his horrid howls: The timrous hare, the pack approaching nigh, Thus hearkens to the hounds, and the cry; Nor dares she stir, for fear her scented breath Direct the dogs, and guide the threatend death. Alpheus in the cloud no traces found To mark my way, yet stays to guard the ground, The God so near, a chilly sweat possest My fainting limbs, at evry pore exprest; My strength distilld in drops, my hair in dew, My form was changd, and all my substance new. Each motion was a stream, and my whole frame Turnd to a fount, which still preserves my name. Resolvd I shoud not his embrace escape, Again the God resumes his fluid shape; To mix his streams with mine he fondly tries, But still Diana his attempt denies. She cleaves the ground; thro caverns dark I run A diffrent current, while he keeps his own. To dear Ortygia she conducts my way, And here I first review the welcome day.

-6Friday, September 22, 2006 We awoke Friday to a glorious view of the mountains that were now streaked white with snow. Low, dark clouds hovered over the valley, but there was also sunshine that provided some warmth even though there was a steady wind. We drove into the Park at Moose Junction and then turned onto a gravel road called River Road; the Park map annotated the name with 4-wheel driver required. I had requested a View of Tetons from condo Jeep Grand Cherokee but had received an even larger SUV: a Toyota Sequoia with 4wheel drive. I forged confidently ahead until we came to a steep decline. This is good enough, I said, and parked.

Toyota Sequoia

We descended onto the valley floor which had been carved by the Snake River as it meandered over the valley in the course of thousands of years. We came upon a number of log cabins which resembled a ghost town, but we later learned that it was an abandoned dude ranch called the Bar BC. I read later that even without electricity and running water, the ranch attracted upscale guests who traveled here by train from as far away as the east coast. In operation between 1912 and 1986, the tumbledown wooden structures are now owned by the park. Nicole always seems to beam out of a picture. Bar BC cabin We have several family photographs of the four of us, but my eyes are immediately drawn to her as though a spotlight is on her. Only after studying her do I then focus on others in the photograph. This photograph of Jared reminded me of the climbing bums that hung out a Jenny Lake when I sojourned in 1962. [There was a climbing school here because a mountain cliff provided a place of instruction and practice.] Its always a surprise to see how Jared looks as his head and facial hair are different from one month to the next. I dont know whether he is making a fashion statement or just a haphazard attitude about his appearance. This week he featured a beard that was evenly trimmed so that he looked rather rakish. Hiking along an elevated bank of the river, we spotted a bull moose, then noticed his mate, much smaller and partially hidden behind an embankment. Unfortunately we did not get a picture.

-7Next we drove north to Jenny Lake, and we hiked along its southern edge. The path was right at the waters edge, and the wind was whipping fiercely off the lake. Eventually we reached the southeastern edge and the path moved away from the lake so that it was quite pleasant. Next we drove north to Jackson Lake Lodge where I had worked 46 years before in 1960. I Jenny Lake and Mt. Teewinot asked the desk clerk whether or not I could visit the dishroom, a question that provoked the most quizzical expression. I worked her forty-six years ago in the dishroom, I explained, and I would like to see it again with my family. My request was granted, and we escorted into the service corridor and into the dishroom. Rather than college Trail around Jenny Lake students, the staff was entirely Mexican immigrants. More automated equipment had been installed, and so I explained the various operational positions of the dishwashing operation along with their associated social status and the actual persons who held them. Our guide then mentioned a few people as though I would still remember them; and then opened a commemorative book and pointed to a list of people that indicated their beginning and ending dates of employment or at least I thought they were ending dates until I more closely read such captions such as 1958 to present! To present! I exclaimed. I was astounded. The building had not changed significantly thought the reservation desk now had computers. The great reading room or lounge was much the same with its great window facing the Teton range and its two huge fireplaces crackling even in the afternoon. The fountain grill looked exactly the same with its 1950's design and decor. But a new lounge had been added to the rear, and we lunched while resting and warming ourselves in sun under glass. My second tour of duty in the Tetons was in 1962 at another facility of the company, that of Colter Bay. We first looked for the dormitories in which the guys and gals were housed for the summer along with a recreational hall; and then the cabins for which I serviced the maid as a cabin boy.

View from Jackson Lake Lodge

-8We did a brief hike along the Bay, and then into the forest to a pond with the hope of spotting some moose.

Colter Bay It became evident that we had taken the wrong trail, and so when I found a trail that headed toward the pond, we decided to take it even though it was labeled Not Maintained. It was a pretty trail though it required some agile climbing over fallen trees. We were at the crest of a hill when I spotted an owl sitting on a stump and facing away from us. As we gathered, the owl heard us, turned, and then flew up, around and over the trees with a great flutter of wings.

Sneaking up on an owl

We headed home on the main highway that runs within the valley (Jackson Hole) with the mountains to the west and the hills of Bridger-Teton National Forest to the east. The clouds were thick, and alternately dark and bright depending upon how the setting sun struck them.

The affect on the land was even more dramatic with dark shadows of the clouds and brilliant sunlit patches on the hills. We were cold and hungry, and anxious to get home. But I think I could have stopped and gazed on this miracle for hours.

-9Saturday, September 23, 2006 Having taken fairly long hikes the past three days, it was obvious that we needed to rest and just stroll. Our condo and other houses were scattered within a great grassland area that lies adjacent to the Teton range. The country roads provided an easy walk with a great view of the mountains and picturesque views of farms, forests, fields and ponds.

After lunch, we drove into the Park and toured the area round the Visitors Center. In 1962, after the summer season at Colter Bay, I worked for a month for the Park Service transplanting trees from the forest to the then, new Visitors Center. And so I was able to enjoy the fruits of my labor, so to speak, as we drove by the Center. We then visited the Chapel of the Transfiguration, an Episcopal church built in 1925 and still in operation. Couples come here to

exchange vows with the Teton Mountains as a backdrop, and true to form, preparations were underway for a wedding that afternoon. With the temperature in the low 50's, we hoped the bride and groom wore their long underwear. Chapel of the Transfiguration, Moose, Wyoming

-10We walked down to the Snake River to Menors Ferry. The ferry was a simple platform set on two pontoons. A cable strung across the river kept the ferry from floating downstream, while allowing it to move sideways. The pilot wheel was attached to a rope that changed the angle of the pontoons toward the opposite bank. The pressure of the current against the pontoons pushed the ferryboat across the river in the direction the pontoons pointed. A few yards from the bank at which the ferry, now a replica, was my temporary quarters when I worked for the National Park Service. Of course nothing remains of those historic prefabs but there was Ferry in operation circa 1925 the home of Maud Noble and the Menor General Store, the later now in operation as a souvenir shop. Strangely, I recall noticing neither the home nor the store when I stayed that one month in October, 1962. In the parking lot, Jared noticed two, old buses used by the Grand Teton Lodge Company for its sightseeing tours.

Looking for level ground on which to hike, we drove to the north end of Jenny Lake and hiked along String Lake to General Store at Menors Ferry Leigh Lake. Each clearing along String Lake brought into view another incredible vista: placid, perfectly smooth Tour bus for JLL Company water, almost black and opaque, golden colored grass marsh, huge boulders, stately crags, and all against Mt. Teewinot with its gray rock and white streaks of snow as a backdrop.

We reached Leigh Lake and met a couple that were portaging their kayaks from Leigh to String Lake. Kathy and I recalled our expedition in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area of northern Minnesota after we were married. It was a wonderful experience, but now it seemed a great deal of effort that was not necessary to enjoy the setting. A split-log bench did just as well.

Sharing a park bench quietly

-11Jared was proving to be the family chef. Kathy and I had intended to have Nicole and Jared prepare two of the seven dinners, but he decided the menu and cooked most of the evening meals, this Saturday being curried chicken with carrots, potatoes and onions . Until Saturday night, most the topics of dinner conversation were the activities and situation of everyones life; but this evening, Nicole raised the issue of terrorism and the war in Iraq. Geo-political conflict is not Nicoles major interest, and yet she asked a series of questions that, in my opinion, are too often ignored or their answers assumed as known. Im fairly knowledgeable on these two topics, and I responded to many of the questions as did Kathy and Jared. When Nicole made a statement at which Jared somewhat scoffed--a reaction that I too often have made but which I keep more in check as I get older--Nicole had the courage to call him on it. To Jareds credit, he didnt become defensive. These two children were adults. We had another, after dinner conversation on the same topic Monday evening, in the course of which I was asked why I had not served in Vietnam. I explained that I had been inducted into the Air Force in 1963, and that the buildup of U.S. troops did not start until March 1965, to which Jared interjected that the U.S. had advisors in Vietnam as early as 1959. I wouldnt expect most people to know such a historic fact, let alone someone born in 1982 and a graduate of an art school. When Jared was considering colleges during his senior year of high school, I had urged him to attend a liberal arts college and major in art so that he would gain a broader education. It has been obvious for sometime that art school (Maryland Institute College of Art in Baltimore) met his artistic needs quite well, and now it was also obvious that he had achieved a liberal education either from MICA and/or from his own initiative. Sunday, September 24, 2006 Though the sun was shining, it was a cold, crisp morning with the temperature at 32<F. By the time we boarded the raft for our float down the Snake River, it was probably about 55<F and a slight wind. Our guide and boatman was Jed, and while I thought he was a bit short on stories and information (I remembered more tales from my own trips as a boatman), he was definitely long on good looks and charming demeanor. He also handled the raft quite deftly, drifting down the river sideways and using the oars to row the raft from side to side, or to turn it thus allowing persons on both sides of the raft to have equal time to view the mountains. I told Jed that I had been a boatman for the Grand Teton Lodge Co. in 1960, and that its rafts had the oars at the ends and not in the middle as his did. He said that they still use those rafts, and that they had an accident that summer in which a raft struck a root ball of a tree and tipped backward. The event was actually worse than he related (See Appendix A). The river float was rather uneventful as we saw no wildlife. Still, it was a great way to experience the Snake River and view the Teton Mountains.

-12Our raft trip terminated at the Visitors Center at the Moose Entrance, and we had lunch at Dornans, a continuation of the commercial enterprise of Menors Ferry that now includes restaurant, grocery store, gas station and souvenir shop. Our next adventure was a bike ride in the area known as Antelope Flats. We met our guide, Walker, at the Visitors Center, and drove to a ranch in the area. We were outfitted with helmet, gloves, water bottle, and bicycle. The first leg of the trip was a jarring ride on a dirt and gravel road that required one to maneuver around water puddles and avoid ruts while at the same time trying to view the scenery. Our first stop was to view a herd of roaming antelope that were grazing. Walker explained that these antelope could achieve a speed of 60 miles per hour, and so they were able to out run any predator given enough time to reach their maximum speed. On the prairie, they could usually spot approaching predators, but when they relocated out of the valley through the passes of Bridger-Teton National Forest, they were vulnerable to attacks by wolves and mountain lions. We then pedaled back past a house that was a faded pink surrounded by some dependent buildings. Some artists were painting the scene in the front yard. This place marked the start of Mormons Row, a settlement of homesteaders belonging to that faith that was established around 1900 but which is now largely abandoned. A few buildings have been restored including this barn which is often shown as representative of Jackson Hole. We finally hit hard pavement, and across the road observed a herd of buffalo. The was rutting season, and we witnessed two bulls jousting. Normally these encounters last only a minute or two, but these combatants continued for several minutes. The cows seemed quite unconcerned, hardly looking up from their grazing; but two other bulls came over to see the school yard fight, and obviously they were aroused as evidenced by their raised tails. Still, they merely spectated.

Moulton Barn

Asked what sparks a joust, Walker answered that they are just testy at this time of year, and it usually is that one just gets in anothers space. We crossed over the main road and traveled down a side road adjacent to the grazing area and came to a picturesque pond at which a few buffalo were gathered. In a small parking lot across the road, a few small pickup trucks and SUVs were parked with families perched on the hoods where they had settled for a prolonged observation of the buffalo. A photographer had set his tripod inside the wood fence, and then inched forward. A few buffalo looked in his direction, but made no move towards him; still, had they charged, he wouldnt have had time to retreat behind the fence.

-13Walker explained that when a number of photographers approach a herd and form a line as they (the photographers) tend to spread out, the buffalo sometimes sense that they are being surrounded in the manner in which predators such as wolves might do. Their inclination is to burst through the line, and needless to say, anyone in their path is in danger. Walker told us that the pond was fed my a warm spring, and that through the years, people have used it as a swimming hole. Jared and I put our hands in the water, and indeed it was warm and clear; but we also noticed rather large buffalo turds laying in the shallow water as well, and so the though of swimming in the pond seemed less appealing than first imagined. We returned to the main road where we had to climb our one and only hill. Nicole, Jared, and Walker climbed swiftly and were soon out of sight. I changed to the lowest gear ratio, and though I had to peddle furiously, I steadily climbed the hill. We reached the road that returned to our starting point. With a few pumps of the peddle, we could coast almost the entire way, allowing ourselves to gaze at the surrounding vista.

Monday, September 25, 2006 We had done all the easy trails at the southern end of the Park, and so we choose to do some of the easier hikes at the northern end, around Jackson Lake; besides, there were more grass and marsh lands that were picturesque and that afforded better chance of seeing moose.

We stopped along the highway at the Teton Lookout and took some family photographs.

-14Our first hike was to Christian Pond, just a half mile over a low ridge. We then decided to hike to Emma Matilda Lake, but we couldnt determine from the map which trail we were on, and there was some discussion as to how we should proceed.

We came to a rise where we saw water, and then Jared espied the highway, and we determined that we were overlooking the Oxbow Bend of the Snake River: it was the most beautiful vista in the Park.

We returned by the road rather than the trail, which, while level, was a far longer walk. I was the only authorized driver of the rental car, but I made a command decision by allowing Nicole and Jared to walk to the car and come back and pick us up.

-15We lunched in a meadow next to the Oxbow Bend and then retired to the lounge of Jackson Lake Lodge. I read, Jared dozed, and Nicole and Kathy shopped for souvenirs for relatives and friends. I hardly ever buy souvenirs for people; but I notice that women are always thoughtful in this regard, and their recipients are always appreciative. The last souvenir I bought was a bookmark in the form of a woven Turkish pattern in Istanbul for my boss Bob whose only remark was, I dont read books. I informed the group that the next hike originated from the Lodge and that it was a self-guided tour. Obviously they felt that they had been burned once too often, and interrogated me as to length, duration, degree of difficult, expected time of return, etc. Dubious to a slight degree, we walked a short quarter of a mile up a hill that overlooked the marshland between the Lodge and Jackson Lake. Thankfully the self-guided trail met expectations, and some of my credibility was restored. We again returned to Colter Bay to hike to Heron Pond in order to see--what else-herons, even though this specie is more likely to be seen in Virginia. Presented with a short route and a long route, we made the expected choice, failing to surmise the obvious, to wit, the path lay over a hill rather than around it. At the crest of the hill, Jared motioned us to halt and pointed to a grassy area only a few feet from the path: a female grouse. During our return, we encountered a male who proudly showed his plumage, perhaps in difference to our female contingent. We continued through the forest, watching for any wildlife, but I found myself singing the little ditty from the Wizard of Oz: Lions and tigers and bears, Oh my! Thankfully we encountered a much smaller predator: a red tail fox. He was sitting near the side of the path and looking straight at us. I thought that he would bolt any second as we continued to approach, but he challenged us to a game of chicken and he won: we veered off the path and up a small hill. He must have paralleled our direction and was waiting for us when we returned to the path, having encountered too many obstacles. We werent going to differ to him this time, and when we came within twenty yards, he bolted across the path, along a log, and into the underbrush. It was about six-thirty in the afternoon, and everyone, especially Jared, wanted to return to Lupine Meadows in the hope of seeing and hearing the bull elk we, sans Nicole, had seen on our first day. We arrived at dusk, and charged along the path that ran in the woods but within sight of the meadow. I couldnt maintain the pace, and I had to stop to use the mens room. I could hear the elk bugling, and so I stepped the few yards down to the meadow thinking that I would see the elk and my family. I proceeded to walk parallel to the path but in the meadow.

-16After about one hundred yards, I had seen neither (though I could hear the elk in the woods across the meadow) and decided to regain the path, and so ascended into the wooded hill. I climbed and climbed and climbed. It became obvious that the path had turned away. And now it was becoming quite dark. I probably had only fifteen minutes of light, and then it would be pitch black. I knew enough not to make matters worse, and so I descended in order to return by the meadow. But bush-wacking down hill is not as easy as bush-wacking up hill. Climbing down over a log is farther than climbing up and over log. A place to step up a hill is easy to see; a step down maybe hidden and could result in a headlong plunge. I headed down rapidly and I started to sweat. I could feel myself panicking. I stopped to calm myself. Initially I had descended rapidly in order to race back to the car before my family so as not to appear foolish. No--too late for that. I needed to proceed slowly so as to avoid injuring myself. Breaking a leg would put me in trouble. Lions and tigers and bears, Oh my! I reached the meadow and walked what I thought was about the same distance as I had come. A short climb brought me to the path, and I reached just short of the car park where I ran into Jared who obviously was worried about me. As we approached our car, the lights of another vehicle bore at us, and then ground to a halt. Did you find him? asked a fellow hiker. Year, hes back, said my wife. She was about ready to send out a search team for you. Well, I said, youre never too old to do something stupid. Tuesday, September 26, 2006 Our shuttle from the car rental to the airport was scheduled to depart at 10:00am, and we arrived in Jackson at 9:15am; a half hour to kill, so we decided to walk the town. Through the arch of elk antlers of the town park, we studied the memorial to the towns citizens killed in war. It was obvious that the cobblestone memorial had been built for a particular war as there was a large bronze plaque along one side of the obelisk that listed the names of the fallen. As America continued to engage in wars, additional smaller plaques had been added that provided a visual representation to our ad hoc policy of sacrificing real people in the name of ethereal principles. The sun was still blocked by giant fir trees, and with the temperature still in the low 30's, we sought the morning sun. Besides souvenir and clothing shops, the most numerous of storefronts are those of art galleries, featuring photographs of the Tetons natural settings and those of animals. This type of art is anathema to Jared. While much of it is beautiful, it may be too perfect; its certainly is too repetitious.

-17We came to the Wort Hotel, an institution in Jackson that, for all its selfpromoting, archival photographs and newspaper clippings prominently displayed in its hallway, still has the look and feel of a western-cowboy hotel, albeit one that caters mainly to the well-healed cowboys. It wouldnt have surprised me to have bumped into Vice-President Cheney in the lobby. The lobby has a rather egregious anomaly: its staircase. Entirely out of proportion and jutting immediately from the entrance to the second floor, it crowds an otherwise stately yet warm and inviting lounge.

In addition to finely carved woodscapes, the major decorous element are the heads of large mammals, the most impressive being that of a buffalo. Jared and I gazed at its enormity, and then Jared asked rhetorically to the effect, What would be the point of shooting this animal? I laughed with a shrug and replied that it certainly couldnt be the challenge. I can understand the challenge of stalking an animal that is difficult to locate and come into close proximity, though I still dont understand the desire to kill it; but as we had proven two days ago, one could walk within fifty feet in plain sight of this animal and easily shoot it. Hardly a challenge nor an act of manly courage!

-18-

We walked to the airplane and climbed the portable stairs. I turned for one more look at the mountains: it could have been my last. While the three of us returning to Washington Dulles had a five hour layover in Salt Lake City, Nicole was to catch her plane within a half hour. We ordered a quick lunch, then left Jared to hold our table while Kathy and I accompanied Nicole to her boarding gate. I suppose all parents worry about their children regarding their success in the goals they have set for themselves. Nicole and Jared have not chosen easy and safe paths as their parents did by taking clearly marked trails in an organizational structure. These two are relying on their pluck and their talent in professions that expose them to definite rejection, are highly competitive with only a small percentage of high achievers, and little in the way of a financial safety net. I often feel helpless watching their struggle, and I can only marvel at their courage. I embraced Nicole and said softly in her ear: Nicole, we are very proud of you. Her sparkling smile dissolved, and she began to tear as did Kathy and I.

Returning to the question posed at the outset of this trip, had I been haunted by ghosts? Did I look back and think sadly of things that might have been? I certainly thought of the past, but I enjoyed the memories and embraced them for enriching my life. And now I had new memories with my family--the people that are the most important part of my life. Im so happy that we shared this magnificent place together.

-19Appendix A Further Update on Snake River Boat Accident in Grand Teton National Park On Friday morning, June 2, 2006, at 10:53 a.m., Teton Interagency Dispatch Center received a phone call from the Grand Teton Lodge Company reporting that one of their scenic raft trip boats had tipped over in the Many Moose area of the Snake River, one-half mile downstream of the historic Bar BC dude ranch. Twelve passengers were spilled out of the raft and into the Snake River as the boat became lodged against a root ball of a live tree that had recently flushed into that section of the river during spring run-off. The 15- passenger raft, carrying 12 people and one boatman, had launched earlier that morning to float a ten-mile stretch of river within Grand Teton National Park. Boatmen from four commercial float trip raft companies, who were in the vicinity at the time of the accident, assisted in getting nine passengers out of the water and onto the riverbank. As previously reported, three people drowned in this accident: Elizabeth and John Rizas from Beaufort, South Carolina, and Linda Clark from Shreveport, Louisiana. Park rangers, a Teton Interagency contract helicopter, Jackson Hole Fire/EMS, and Teton County Search and Rescue volunteers also assisted in the search and rescue operation. The section of the Snake River below Bar BC ranch braids into three narrow channels. The center channel, where the accident occurred, takes a slight curve to the right, making it challenging to get a clear downstream view until a boat has fully entered into the channels flow. A live tree had recently been uprooted and flushed into this channel, where it was temporarily snagged on a submerged gravel bar. The tree was swept away with the rivers flow by the following morning. The force of the river current pushed the raft toward the tree, where it bumped into the exposed root ball and became pinned by the current. The swift flowing water then pushed the boat up and into a vertical position, leaving the passenger compartment facing the upstream flow. As the boat tipped onto its side, the passengers fell into the water. The Snake River is a natural, multi-channeled river with woody debris deposits and gravel bars scattered across along the length of its route. Along the 25-mile river corridor from Jackson Lake Dam to the Moose Bridge, there are only four river landings, spaced several miles apart. Much of the river course lies remote from any road access. The river current can be strong enough to push debris and load debris at river bends or gravel bars. The investigation of this boating accident is continuing. Statistic update: After further research into previous river accidents resulting from swimming, fishing, hiking, and boating activities it is estimated that there have been 20 fatalities associated with recreation on the Snake River in Grand Teton National Park since record keeping began in the 1930s. Posted: 6/6/2006