The mountains looked like a spill of a thousand diamonds on white silk as we flew over the Snake River coming into Jackson Hole. Tucked in the northwest corner of Wyoming, Jackson Hole is a skiers paradise. So while Steve and I watched the 13,770 foot Grand Teton pass by the airplane window I wondered what we were going to do here. We don't ski.

I lunged from side to side of the half full aircraft inhaling the views until the cabin crew made us buckle up and stay put. This is the best of America, the beauty, purity and grandeur of nature at its most inspiring. This patch of land really is 'America the Beautiful.'

At the tiny airport we deplaned from stairs and walked along the tarmac to the terminal. We were looking forward to a few days in this world-class ski area even with our one little glitch of being the un-skied.

With Jackson Hole's reputation for star power I expected the airport to be clogged with movie stars, politicians and fur covered billionaires tracked by PETA people with spray cans in their hands. It wasn't. Instead, the effervescent Shannon Brooks from Jackson Hole Mountain Resort greeted us. She was our compass through the region. We dropped our bags at The Best Western Lodge and shot out to Jackson (the town) for an antidote to airplane food.

Shannon, a busy public relations worker, needed to get back to the resort and with a critical lack of rental cars we were on our own with the bus system. She assured us it was reasonably easy. So here we were in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, in Jackson, going to The Jackson Hole Mountain Resort in the Teton Village, in the Teton National Forest in Jackson Hole. Confused? So was I.

Now before I go any further let me explain the geography of this piece … maybe. I was always confused about what is what in Jackson Hole. But that confusion spoke to a sense of interconnectedness that blurred boundaries of the various political, business and geographic entities. They all, at least the ones I encountered, seemed content to promote each other and it was hard to tell, at times, where one thing, like a private ranch, left off, and another, like a national park, began.

Certainly ranchers and environmentalists are divided over issues, and newbies and old timers have their differences, yet both sides of every debate agree on one thing; they love where they live.

Frankly the beauty of the mountains and the purity of the terrain effects ones perspective. Our troublesome humanity, ordinarily stuffed into ego-sized spaces, loses a bit of its narcissism when confronted by the imposing power of nature. The beauty of the area is simply overwhelming and the smaller distinctions made by political and economic differences pale a bit in the ever-present grandeur of the mountains.

But on the geography, here we go. Jackson Hole is an area of Northwestern Wyoming, a high valley amid mountain ranges in all directions. It, Jackson Hole, was named for Davey Jackson, a fur trapper and mountain man, who lived in the area in the early 1880's. The valley, Jackson Hole, is surrounded by the Teton Range to the west, the Gros Ventre (Grow-vahnt) Mountains to the east, the Wyoming Range to the south and the Absoroakas to the north. There are a lot of mountains. When someone says 'Jackson Hole' that is what it means, really, even if they think it means something else.

Now, Jackson is a town in Jackson Hole. It is a small, friendly, pleasant and touristy town built around a town square. It supplies the locals and the tourists with everything they need from ski gear and photo supplies, to auto parts, cowboy clothes, food and antlers.

The Jackson Hole Mountain Resort is a ski area a few miles outside of Jackson. So when people say they are going skiing in Jackson Hole that is probably what they mean. The resort is in Teton Village and the whole thing is actually nested in The Bridger-Teton National Forest. The south entrance to Yellowstone National Park is 45 miles up the road and you drive through the Grand Teton National Park to get there. The Snake River runs through Jackson Hole.

After our sandwich Steve and I wandered into the Million Dollar Cowboy bar across from the town plaza. There were cowboys playing pool by the front door but they looked suspiciously like veterinarians from Illinois. We couldn't help but notice the trademark bar inlaid with silver dollars and the saddles for bar stools.

That's when I first noticed a major building material in Jackson is antler. The arches in the town square are made of a million (meaning a large uncountable number) of antlers. I saw more than enough lamps, racks, hooks, chandeliers, chairs, and antler decorating items. The other major building materials are stuffed wildlife and wooden carvings of bears and raccoons.

Sitting on a saddle at a bar felt pretty silly so we moved to a table where we saw, in a taxidermic masterpiece, the eternally frozen moment of a wolf (they are really big) taking down a bighorn sheep. The sheep looked relatively calm under the dire circumstances.

I like wolves but I wanted to scream to the bighorn "BUTT HIM! Use your horns!!!! My God save yourself! Of course then the wolf would go hungry. That's been a hot controversy for a long time here. Which animals live and which die. What part of the natural order do you save?

There is controversy, certainly over the wolves, over snowmobiles chewing up Yellowstone, and over housing prices. Jackson has tried to avoid going the way of Aspen where things are so expensive that working people can't afford to live where they work. But that economic disparity is occurring in Jackson where now many people have to drive to work over Teton Pass from smaller towns along the Wyoming/Idaho border. They can't find affordable housing locally. When the pass is closed it effects a lot of businesses.

I'm starting to think that there are two kinds of people who move in and ruin neighborhoods: crack dealers and movie stars. They radically change the value in an area and bring a lot of undesirable traffic with them. It's a real estate boom-town and there are an annoying number of real estate offices everywhere you turn. With over 90% of the land being public land it does put a crunch on development. Yet it's a gift to the rest of us because in fairness to the public-at-large it keeps this corner, 'America the Beautiful,' alive and accessible to us.

We walked the few blocks back to the Lodge and left figuring out the START bus system until morning. The Lodge was pleasant and we set up our stuff in our usual way (we've traveled together before). "Hey I tripped over your boots! I want my half of the room!" and settled down for the night.

In the morning, our thinking, slightly clouded by altitude fuzziness, we vaguely remembered: 'must-catch-bus-to-Teton-Village-to-meet-with-Shannon.' The concierge, smiling at our dehydrated faces, pointed to a spot in front of the Lodge and said "stand there." We did. A bus, with ski racks, came immediately. "The Village?" we asked. "Yup." We put $2 apiece in the box and plunked down among a few skiers and civilians going to work. The busses seemed easy enough and a good thing. There was one less car on the road and we didn't have to practice driving on ice and snow.

As country music played and the woman driver with an out-east accent talked with a frequent rider we rolled out into the beauty of blinding snow in bright sun on pristine mountains. Arriving in Teton Village we had to guess where Shannon was because we didn't call ahead for directions. But Steve and I have a good teamwork thing going for wandering in strange places. He always knows which way is North and where "back-to-the-hotel" is. I am never lost, although I am frequently unsure of where I am, but I have a great intuitive knack for randomly wandering into the right place. So working our magic we stumbled right to Shannon's office. (Okay, we did ask directions once, but just once. It won't happen again.)

Still acclimatized to Austin we went with Shannon to an aerial tram for a four thousand foot rise up Rendezvous Mountain. We wanted to see the top. Joined by a car full of skiers the sound of skis, poles and boots hitting the floor ran like a drumbeat through the conveyance. Without much room to move I looked out at a sea of color and shine. Ski goggles reflected bright colors of skis and the windburned faces of very happy skiers. Why wouldn't they be, they were going to the black run at the top of Rendezvous Mountain where they could ski down what is considered the most challenging terrain in the U.S.

Stepping from the tram the biting clear air and fresh wind stimulated every cell of my body. The mountain studded horizon stretched forever in all directions from our 10,450 foot perch. We could see Idaho in the distance and the divine beauty of nature in every direction. I ran over to the edge of the ski run and tried to see over the curve. It looked more like a drop off than a ski run. This run would not be a good choice for learning to ski. It would be a little like taking your first flying lesson in an F-16 fighter jet doing a carrier landing.

We took some photographs but with the extreme cold my camera batteries froze up, even though I kept it under my jacket when I wasn't shooting. We went into the antenna laden Corbits Cabin at the top for a hot chocolate and a few breaths of warmer air. After stripping off just a few layers of clothing I noticed the lens on my camera fogged up as my clumsy frozen hands directed by my giddy and foggy altitude inflicted mind tried to manipulate small mechanical parts. It was pretty funny. There was a lot to learn about shooting in these conditions but every direction was a photograph and this is a nature photographers dream place.

The skiing data is this: 38 expert runs cover 50% of the 2,500 acre terrain, is has the greatest continuous vertical drop in the U.S., 4,139 feet (three times the height of the Empire State Building). Consistently rated number one for terrain and challenge by skiers from Ski Magazine there are 30 intermediate runs and 10% of the terrain is for beginners. With something like 11 lifts in all and a total lift capacity of 12,000 skiers an hour I don't think there is much waiting. Some cross-country skiing is available and there is an open backcountry gate system that gives access to over 3,000 more acres. The area is also home to the Grand Targhee Resort and an in-town ski area, the Snow King Resort, with a lift right at the edge of town.

Teton Village offered every amenity. Rooming ranged from the very luxurious 'fractional ownership' facility, the Teton Club (where if you have to ask the price you probably can't afford it), to the down to earth, reasonable, we're-here-to-ski lodging of the comfy, Alps inspired Alpenhoff.

For the kids there is a new Kids Ranch and also the Cody House providing kids programs and activities. Of course skiing lessons and the chance to learn from world-class skiers like Olympic Gold medallists Tommy Moe and Pepi Stiegler are available.

After another lift ride in a shiny red gondola, Shannon, ever busy, had to return to work so we meandered back to town. Again the START bus was easy. "Best Western Lodge?" "Yup."

So what now for the 'No-Ski' brothers? Snow shoeing, sleigh rides through the Elk Preserve, The National Museum of Wildlife Art, snowmobiling, dog sledding, animal watching, photography, shopping, snowball fight, TV? We went for the snowmobiling.

Growing up in Michigan I hated snowmobiles. I'd walk out in twenty below weather in the Upper Peninsula to experience the powerful quiet of winter and some jerk driving a leaf blower would destroy the silence. I thought they should all be recycled into something useful like boat anchors. But then I drove one. Like Cowboy Jim, our guide from the Heart Six Ranch, said, "You hate em' till you get em'." I loved it.

Out guide, Jim, or rather Cowboy Jim, was a real cowboy. He was dressed in a bright snowmobile suite with a high tech $300 helmet on his head and teeth missing from an accident with a cow hoof. He was the cowboy. We were the cows.

He picked us up at 6 AM and drove us to the Heart Six where, after a great breakfast, we suited up in snowmobile gear provided by the ranch. As we drove on to Yellowstone with a trailer load of snowmobiles, Jim gave us a short list of things to know. Soon after we hit the ground, and took a bathroom break (which is not easy with seven layers of stuff and camera gear wrapped around my neck), off we went. He kept on us to do it right, which under the potentially dangerous circumstances seemed appropriate. I liked the guy even if he was always threatening to get out his lariat and rope us if we didn't keep up and on time. Jim missed his cows.

Blowing along the road, which, at times, you could only figure out the location of by the long poles sticking from the ground, I felt connected to nature. Not a feeling I expected riding a high-speed lawnmower-like machine through the cathedral of winter. I was also surprised that they let people with just a drivers license (and signed releases for every organ in your body and one snowmobile) drive off on these things. They are pretty stable but going 45 miles and hour through blinding snow in a tight formation can be a little challenging at first.

Back at 6 PM we ran off to dinner with the bright and energetic Vicki Arundale of Jackson Hole Mountain Resort. Filling us in on the local concerns and the growth of Teton Village (it's changing, growing) Steve and I decided Vicki should run for Mayor of Jackson. We based that on her recycling plans for the town (they don't have a system like Austin's but are talking about one. They need it).

The Blue Lion, where we ate, is a cross between East Side Café and Castle Hill. Elegant yet casual the food was delicious, fresh and well presented. The menu ranged from grilled elk medallions and duck breast to vegetarian fare, and a decent wine list. And, not an antler or stuffed mountain lion in sight.

So the next day, Steve had to get back early so I considered the other options for the unskied. I liked the idea of visiting the Elk refuge. In the early 1900's local residents witnessed a huge dieout of elk. The elk migrate to the valley for forage in winter. Even though the local residents tried to provide feed for the starving elk they needed more help. Established in 1912 the refuge has expanded to almost 25,000 acres. There is supplemental feeding of the elk during the harsh winter months and horse drawn sleigh rides available.

Although I saw the Elk refuge from the road (you really can't miss it) I never made it because of my growing confusion with the bus system. You know how people have beginners luck, put their first gambling dollar in a slot machine and win, then spend the rest of their life losing money. The START system was like that. Although I applaud the idea of more public transportation keeping car traffic down, workability of the system needs to be improved. It almost works but not quite.

In-town rides are free and there is just a charge to get out to the Village. But there are a number of colors for the lines, blue, green, red, maybe more. Curiously they change colors at 2:40 in the afternoon. Which didn't impact me much because I never knew which color was going where anyway. I'd always just wait for the doors to open and ask, "Best Western?" "Nope, outta be by real soon though, blue line."

So I waited for five busses trying for the Elk Refuge and also the Wildlife Museum. I didn't check with the bus that actually went there because it was supposed to have a sign on the side but it didn't. I gave up and went back because it would have been too late with the next bus.

However, The National Museum of Wildlife Art is not to be missed, even though I did. The collection houses artists ranging from Charles Russell, Audubon, Albrecht Dürer to Austin artist David Everett who was represented with his painted woodcarving "Horney Toad" in the current show.

Steve was already home, and too soon I had to get back to Austin. I realized not being a skier isn't a problem for a winter visit to Jackson Hole. There was much more to do and see than we could possibly do in five days, or five weeks.

Reluctantly back at the airport I noticed the single security check point had a frustratingly long line and moved very slowly. As we finally walked to the airplane I saw why. Security was tight because vice president Dick Cheney's big blue aircraft, with the presidential seal, was parked on the tarmac. He's from Jackson Hole. He was probably just stopping by to get some antlers installed on Air Force Two.

RESOURCES:

There is a new daily 757 jet service from Dallas on American Airlines.

You can find a wide variety of area information at www.jacksonhole.com

National Museum of Wildlife Art at www.wildlifeart.org

Heart Six Ranch for a wide range of activities at www.heartsix.com