|Disclaimer: this did not actually happen|
Our need for clean laundry and groceries has reached its climax. We used our last bit of butter yesterday and the situation has become dire.
Grand Teton NP is small compared to the vast distances contained within Yellowstone. It is 45 miles long from north to south, and the drive to Jackson Hole is smooth and beautiful.
We pick up a hitchhiker on his way to a trailhead, and the poor guy has to sit next to our mounds of unwashed laundry until we let him off near his chosen hike. It is not often that we find someone with fewer resources than we have and we are happy to be able to share our blessings. The detour leads us through a meadow brimming with wild lupine, a compact plant with slender stalks which support rows of purple and fuchsia flowers. It is reassuring to see the wild cousins of my old garden friends when I am among everything new and unfamiliar.
If the name Jackson Hole rings a bell, it is probably because you know it as the town that hosts the annual Federal Reserve meeting. No, you aren't a big market nerd? You probably know it as a posh ski resort town, then.
Jackson looks small on the map, but there is a lot of money crammed into one small space. Fly fishing is a major attraction both in GTNP and YNP, so it follows that there is an Orvis fly fishing outfitter here. Jackson is too upscale for a Walmart and I begin to fear that groceries will be extravagantly expensive, but we soon find Smith's, which is owned by Kroger. The grocery seems inhabited by the type of people that a.) don't go to the grocery with a list, and b.) park their cart in the middle of an aisle and then walk into the next aisle to find an item. Hubs is pretty well stewed by the time we leave and is anxious to get out of Jackson, but at least our groceries cost less than they would have at Walmart.
With clean laundry, some business taken care of, and a car full of food, we head back to mosquitoland and watch our big screen TV late into the evening.