Elite Traveler November-December 2015

INSPIRE SKIING

From top: terrace of the Amangani hotel; elks in Jackson Hole

shuffle forward until the throng sweeps us into the car. Gentle slopes below give way to inviting basins called Cirque, Tensleep and Laramie, then to hostile couloirs (or chutes) ominously named one, two and three. In fine weather and friendly snow, wannabes teeter on the edge of Corbet’s Couloir. “Shall I, shan’t I take this 20ft jump into the chasm? Will I nail the turn before I hit the rock wall?” A local slaloms through the anxious group and sails into the air, making it look so easy. Is it cowardly to back off muttering “maybe tomorrow”? Then a disembodied voice says: “Rendezvous Mountain is for expert skiers only.” The voice is increasingly insistent as the 10-minute journey nears its end. And maybe our end too, should we dare to disobey its urging to ride straight back down again. But there is no easy descent. Jackson Hole’s mystique will always depend on Rendezvous’s raw challenge but that’s not to say the vibe is rough and ready on all levels – and there are plenty of upmarket hotels to attract the more discerning skier who has no intention of roughing it. My resting place of choice Amangani, owned by Aman Resorts, protects its zen vibe in an isolated valley off the road to Jackson. It is the most exclusive ticket in town, unless you get an invitation from long-term resident Harrison Ford to join him as he flies his private jet to his remote ranch. From my resting place – a slopefront bathtub – I watch moose and deer posing on the other side of the picture window. Ski-in, ski-out Teton Village has much to draw visitors too and attracts the American out-of- towners who like to let their hair down when the lifts close, then dine, sleep and rise early to maximize on-mountain time. Easily identifiable by its original clock tower, the village was once home to hotels with desolate walkways leading to drafty bedrooms and scruffy shops selling cheesy souvenirs. These have been upgraded to meet rising expectations, and the slopeside Four Seasons Resort, the exclusive Teton Club and Hotel Terra, which has elegant private residences, will suit most high-end tastes. As a European, I join those out-of-towners for a frenetic tequila-led après in the iconic Mangy Moose and its hip young rival, Spur, but by 8pm I’m looking for dinner and nightlife. Both are in abundance in Jackson 12 miles down the road.

The heart of the action is Main Square, with boardwalks for sidewalks and floodlit elk-horn arches – their raw materials naturally shed in the neighboring elk reserve – for decoration. Around the corner, The Wort Hotel, built in the half-timbered style of a Tudor inn by brothers John and Jess in 1941, has won the National Trust for Historic Preservation Award for the Best Small Historic Hotel in America in 2013/14, and a Forbes Travel Guide Four Star Winner in 2015. And deservedly so – manager JimWaldrop sets the tone with a warm welcome and 59 cozy traditionally furnished rooms. Vibrant western paintings and sculptures in the lobby and public rooms are the icing on the cake. Since June 2015, however, The Wort Hotel’s monopoly on urban excellence has been threatened by Hotel Jackson. Putting up a substantial building within a minute’s walk of Main Square was a 10-year planning marathon My resting place of choice is Amangani, the most exclusive ticket in town, unless you get an invitation from long-term resident Harrison Ford to join him as he flies his private jet to his remote ranch for Lebanese-born entrepreneur, Jim Darwiche. “They insisted it couldn’t be done on such an historic site, but I never take no for an answer,” he told me, his wide salesman’s smile making it easy to believe. In 1978, he checked into the Circle A Motel next door to The Wort Hotel for a week, which cost him $39. The following year, he opened the first of the jewelry and craft shops that form the basis of his empire.

With his body tucked so snugly into the drift, he appears happy to share. As my companions disappear, he watches my more measured turns with the detachment of a dominant male with little better to do. This is Jackson Hole Mountain Resort, the pristine skiing Mecca planted in Teton Village in the Wyoming wilderness. It took its first paying customers and set its first chairlift swinging up the mellow slopes of Après Vous exactly 50 years ago. Or to be specific, 50 years ago on Christmas Day. It took a further seven months to get the aerial tram (cable car) running to the top of big brother, Rendezvous, as it took some time to get the innovative technology needed up and running in these wild parts. The man behind the Jackson Hole miracle is Paul McCollister, a Los Angeles advertising executive with a vision of a ski resort in the mountains he’d fallen in love with in 1942 during a hunting trip. By the time he retired in 1956, he had the means and the energy to implement his dream. Combing the Tetons – their name derived from the French word for breasts – in a helicopter and on horseback, he targeted Rendezvous for its savagely diverse terrain and an impressive drop of 4,139ft. As a tribute to his alma mater, Stanford University, his tram cars were Cardinal red, as they still are, though the 2008 replacements with their bronco brandings are larger and faster. Running on a “gotta ski it to believe it” ticket, the tram is a magnet for adrenaline junkies. The regulars are in a hurry, beards twitching keenly as they lug all-terrain skis and backpacks bulging with transceivers and shovels. We visitors, more chicly dressed but less adventurously equipped,

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