Grand Teton National Park, Jackson Hole, Salt Lake City (the return) and California Zephyr Part III

The south road leading out of Yellowstone linked directly into the Grand Teton National Park. An American tourist at Old Faithfully told us, “the Grand Teton Mountains come straight out of the ground”. Ben and I laughed at this, “of course where else do the mountains come from?” When we got there however I understood exactly what he meant when he said it.
Unlike most mountains ranges, which gradually build with little mountains and hills first, the Grand Teton’s just appear with no preliminary accumulation. The mountains do just appear to come ‘straight out of the ground’.

We slowly drove through the Grand Teton National Park, making a brief stop for lunch and of course at the gift shop.
As we drove through the park, the sheer beauty of the mountains astounded me. Sharply cut into the sky, the perfectly shaped snow-capped mountains appeared all in a single file line. Shadowed beneath them a large peaceful lake, enclosed by pine trees, gently reflected back the magnificence of the mountains. Everything appeared so tranquil so untouched.
I literally have never seen anything as stunning; it was like a perfect picture painted onto the insides of my eyelids.
Unlike Grand Canyon, which was, breath taking due to its enormity, the Grand Teton’s were just overwhelmingly beautiful.

Our intention to stay the night in the park and possibly do some hiking was thwarted when we accidentally drove out the exit of the park. We decided that due to the severity of the mountains, casual hiking was unsafe and we would have required specialist mountain climbing equipment to attempt any hiking, so we continued on our way.

As brief as our time was inside the Grand Teton’s, it has carved a lasting impression in my mind for being one of the most amazing, one of the most awe-inspiring, and one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen, and am ever likely to see, in my life.

The trip, as adventurous and as thrilling as it had been up to this point had lacked one essential travel element; spontaneity. An element Ben had fought for, but one I was anxiously reluctant to allow. The trip had not been void of all impulsiveness though; we had, on occasion, allowed ourselves the extravagance of the unknown and the adventure of impromptu exploration. More so than ever, when we had the luxury of a car.

The thing with ad hoc adventures, are that you never know where or when they will occur. So it was a great surprise when, on the route back to Salt Lake City, some 20 miles south of the Grand Tetons, we came across Jackson Hole, a small remote wild-west town littered with art galleries and steak houses.

The town square was marked with four arch entrances each arch made from thousands of elk horns clustered together. After a short walk around the square exploring some of the art galleries and shops we headed to the million-dollar bar. The seats at the bar were all saddles, the music was country and western and the décor exhibited an impressive collection of bear and elk taxidermy. We played some pool and tried elk and buffalo meat for dinner. The bar was very friendly and we instantly found ourselves in conversation with the locals, by this point in the trip we had seen more of America than most Americans, so we could speak confidently about the country, our experiences and the people we had met.

At about 8pm we decided to call it a day and started back on the journey towards Salt Lake. Shortly after crossing the boarder into Idaho, the 15th State in which we had slept, (for those interested they are, in order: California, Arizona, Nevada, Pennsylvania, New York, Massachusetts, Florida, Texas, Illinois, Colorado, Utah, Wyoming, South Dakota, Montana and Idaho. Washington DC would be the 16th but it is not technically a State) we pulled into a lay-by and spent out final night in the car.

Another uncomfortable restless night followed by an early start, at least that was the end of nights spent in the boot of cars, fingers crossed! We drove the remaining four hours straight through to Salt Lake City and arrived just in time for lunch. We parked the car, got some lunch and headed towards the Mormon temple, home to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Here we embarked upon a tour of the church and learnt a little more about how the church started, what Mormons believed and how they came to be associated with Utah and Salt Lake City. Towards the end of the tour, the hard sell process started. Firstly we were asked to sit in front of an enormous statue of Jesus Christ and listen to extracts from the book of Mormon. It then moved on downstairs where we were instructed to fill in feedback cards and provide an address for a local Mormon warrior to attend our homes and further brain wash us into a life of legalised polygamy. Mary, Moses Mother of… - where do I sign!

For the rest of the afternoon we spent most of it in a Virgin Record store, thanks to Ben, a now common pilgrimage in any major city. After a couple of hours in Virgin we went to the local cinema and I reluctantly watched X-Men (Don’t tell Ben but I actually quite enjoyed it.) For Dinner we opted on a classic, an Arby’s Chicken and Swiss Burger with Horsey source, a treat to the taste buds and a meal that will forever be associated with this trip.

We arrived at the train station at 10pm just as it opened; Ben returned the rental car as I stayed with the luggage. Surprisingly the train arrived on time. We boarded the train and left Salt Lake City at midnight. The final 18-hour stretch of the California Zephyr took us from Salt Lake City to San Francisco.

Falling quickly to sleep it wasn’t until about 6am that I was able to get a good look at the scenery, which was now flat frontier land taken straight out of a Wild West movie. The landscape remained this way until we made Reno; here it became greener and hillier, leaving behind cowboy country.

Upon entering California vast forested areas started to appear on either side and occasionally a lake or river could be spotted in a clearing. The scenery became somewhat reminiscent of northern England.

The journey did give us both an excellent opportunity to reflect, not only of the recent excursion to Yellowstone but also of the entire trip. With only San Francisco and New York ahead the schedule was likely to be hectic with little time to stop and think.

Nearing the pacific coastline, agricultural features started to sprout up, once again farms and villages adjourned the route indicating a greater population density than the central states. In the final few miles of the journey the strong silhouette of the Golden Gate Bridge could just be seen through the mist. The San Francisco Bay and the notorious ex-prison facility, Alcatraz, started to stir my excitement.

Despite being two hours late in arriving at Emeryville we were still able to catch a thruway motor coach connection, a coach that took us the final 10-miles to the heart of San Francisco and Fisherman’s Wharf.

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