
This evening we ventured out to explore the town of Jackson, Wyoming. As mom reminded everyone we met, the parents had been here 35 years ago as vagrant hippies and were eager to see what remained of the past.

The cowboy culture remains nicely commodified for tourist consumption. Wooden sidewalks. Those low-slung Western buildings.


Decor mostly consists of dead animals and the implements used to kill them.


This arch is made entirely from elk antlers (don't worry, elk shed their antlers each year).

Spent some time in the good ol' Million Dollar Cowboy Bar.

Played some pool with drunken college girls with low self-esteem. Conveniently, the bar stools have saddles.

This bear was, the bar claims, was killed by a man with his bare hands.

I can only guess what other wonders this town will reveal to us.
6 comments:
W suggested Jackson Hole as a possible place to celebrate.
Your photos have convinced me otherwise.
(I'm not a fan of cowboys.)
I realize it probably strikes a bit close to home, given that you were born in SASKATCHEWAN.
Yeah, I went there.
!!!!!
Shut up, Alaska isn't exactly the sexiest place either.
:)
Should we organise a rescue party?
I think we should Le Duc. Although it might be already too late...
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