Jackson Hole

I grew up in Santa Barbara where friends and neighbors travelled to exotic places like The Caribbean or Vail or Mammoth Mountain. Traveling we didn’t go to resorts or on cruises. We went to the mountains. My family went to Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Now before you think well that’s in the same vain as those other places it isn’t and our experience there was not like that in any way. Do you have a place that you deem “your happy place,” that one place where all stress melts away and you just step into a time warp and enjoy everything around you? For me that place is Jackson Hole.

I’ve had a very particular experience there, one that did not involve staying in 4-star, cowboy-themed resorts, or fancy dinners every night. Pretty much ever since I can remember summers and winter holidays were spent on a ranch owned by my dad’s friend, Uncle Jack. Jackson Hole is an incredible beautiful place, something that everyone can agree with, but my time in Jackson Hole is just incredibly special and it always will be. There have been many firsts there, from first time on a horse, first time in snow to the first time I ever got a fishhook stuck in my leg (that is the only time that has happened, by the way). Jackson Hole is also the first place that I really discovered the beauty of the world and developed an appreciation for the amazing country that I live in. Times on the ranch were spent fishing on the dike above the Snake River, horseback riding through the ranch, campfires every night, exploring the entire series of The Little House on the Prairie and reading every single one. Getting away from the beaches of Santa Barbara to place with no TV where my brothers ran away from me every chance they got is one of my fondest memories and an experience I am so lucky to have had.

Jackson Hole has grown up a bit. Teeming with French bistros, tourist-attractions, five-star resorts and restaurants it can be hard to find the Jackson Hole that I remember. But I have also grown up a bit. And I know that the Jackson Hole I remember, the one that has an impotant part in my life, sandwiched right between my California love and New England roots, is still there. You just have to know where to look for it. Is it harder to find that quiet ranch-style life? Yes, but if that’s the Jackson Hole experience you want, it’s possible. It hasn’t disappeared completely.

Coming back to Jackson Hole was a type of homecoming. And introducing Stephen to another piece of my life – because I honestly can’t decide which piece I love more – makes revisiting it that much better. We camped behind the barn on the ranch that I spent my first fifteen summers, walking Ella on the dike each day. We went into the National Parks, took Ella swimming, and revisited all my favorite spots. Jackson Hole truly is an incredible place, which of course many people know. Growing up I always felt like I was missing out on adventures. While friends were off to Europe or Colorado, we went to Jackson Hole every year. And when you are nine going to a ranch where you can’t wear flip-flops and can’t watch TV sometimes feels like your are missing out on what summer is supposed to be. But now that I see how Jackson Hole has changed, and continues to change, I consider myself the luckiest that I had two parents who fell in love with a quiet piece of wilderness and instilled that love in their children. I never felt like I belonged anywhere but there was always room at Uncle Jack’s table for The Sweneys and we looked forward to our summer adventures every year. Once I got to high school other things took priority and I forgot about the magic of Jackson Hole. But returning is like revisiting an old friend. And my version of Jackson Hole may be a little bit more difficult to rediscover year after year, but I know it’s there. And I’ll just have to keep working to find my place and experience the magic that this amazing place