Chapter 5: Jackson Lake, the Priceline Showdown & Jackson Hole

February 1 – 2, 2026

I left Pocatello in the morning with a free breakfast in my stomach and a little extra zipped up in a bag and tucked in my Yeti cooler for the road. The drive north and east into Wyoming takes you through some of the most open, elemental landscape in the American West — sagebrush flats giving way to the sudden drama of the Tetons rising straight out of the valley floor like they have no business being that tall.

At the entrance to Grand Teton National Park I made one of the better financial decisions of the Ski Camino: I bought my America the Beautiful Senior Pass. If you’re 62 or older and you haven’t done this yet, stop what you’re doing. Lifetime access to every national park and federal recreation area in the country for $80. It paid for itself before I reached the first turnout.

The road into the park runs north toward Yellowstone until it doesn’t — blocked by snow about 23 miles in. I drove the whole way, the Tetons enormous to my left, the Snake River valley spreading out below, cars parked at turnouts along the way where people had stopped just to stand and look. I did the same more than once.

On the way back I noticed a turnout with a couple of cars and two sets of tracks heading out across the flats. I looked it up: Jackson Lake. I pulled over, opened the back of the Tahoe, and got out my cross-country skis.

I followed their tracks out onto the ice. The lake was enormous and silent, the Tetons reflected in the snow, the only sound my skis and my breathing. I skied for about 30 minutes — made it roughly three-quarters of the way across before I turned back.

Two things turned me around. The daylight was starting to go. And I’d noticed something else out on the lake: animal tracks, heading straight across. Big ones. Whatever made them hadn’t been worrying about the dark.

I decided I wasn’t interested in being dinner.

Into Jackson that evening, looking for a place to stay. There was one hostel in town — but it had no kitchen facilities, which meant no cooking, which meant the budget math didn’t work. I drove to the Super 8.

The guy at the desk wouldn’t honor the Priceline rate when I walked in and asked. It never hurts to ask.

I pulled out my phone. Opened Priceline. Booked the room while standing at his counter.

He watched me do it. Then he gave me the room.

As it turned out, this was one of the best Super 8s of the entire trip. Walking in I was hit immediately by the smell of popcorn — one of those old-fashioned popcorn machines glowing in the lobby, the kind that makes a place feel like somewhere rather than anywhere. The breakfast the next morning was a cut above the usual spread. The whole place had a quality to it that matched its location — Jackson is not a cheap town, and even the Super 8 had absorbed some of the character of the place.

I slept well. Tomorrow was Jackson Hole.

The golden ticket system at Jackson Hole is worth explaining. Jackson Hole is not on the Ikon base pass. But with thin snow conditions Ikon pass holders were offered a discounted single-day ticket during select windows – and they extended it just long enough for me to grab one at half price. I drove to the parking lot the next morning, caught the bus to Teton Village, walked to the ticket window and they handed over my golden ticket.

It worked flawlessly.

I started the way I usually start an unfamiliar mountain: methodically. Green runs first, learning the layout, getting a feel for the snow. The groomers were excellent but off-piste it was icy early — treacherous enough that staying on the groomed runs wasn’t timidity, it was good judgment. My left knee from the Snowbird fall was a quiet but constant reminder to stay smart until the snow softened. Good judgment and self-preservation sometimes arrive wearing the same outfit. I worked up through the blues, let the mountain reveal itself.

By about 11:30 the snow was softening. I was ready.

I rode the aerial tram to the top.

At the top sits Corbet’s Cabin — a small warming hut perched at the summit with views that make it difficult to leave. I had a waffle and a coffee and sat with it for a while. It was my dad’s 86th birthday. I took a picture of the Tetons from the top of the world and sent it to him.

Then I dropped into Rendezvous Bowl.

Jackson Hole earned every bit of its reputation that afternoon. The bowl, the scale of it, the runs fanning out below — it’s the kind of skiing that recalibrates your sense of what a mountain can be. I finished around 3pm having covered as much of the mountain as one day allows, which is not nearly enough.

Jackson Hole goes on the list for a return trip. With more than one day.

The drive to Red Lodge was six or seven hours. I wasn’t sure I’d make it the whole way — but I stripped off my ski gear down to my base layer, Under Armour pants and jacket, and pointed the Tahoe east into the dark.

About halfway, somewhere in the middle of Wyoming, I needed gas. I pulled into Dubois and turned into the first station I saw — realizing too late they were closed, though the pumps were still running. I’d pulled past a big Montana-looking guy in a pickup truck who was gassing up with his hood up, the kind of man who could change a transmission in a parking lot without breaking a sweat.

I looked in the rearview mirror at him. Then I looked down at myself.

I was in tights.

There was no way I was getting out of the truck in tights in Dubois, Wyoming. I found my jeans in the backseat, pulled them on in the front seat with considerable effort, and got out to pump my gas with my dignity more or less intact.

I wish I’d made this drive in daylight. I could sense the Wind River Canyon and Boysen State Park passing in the dark — the scale of the landscape coming through even without being able to see it properly.

But then I came over a hill and the full moon was enormous in the sky ahead of me, hanging over the road like it had been placed there on purpose. I pulled over, took pictures, and texted my brother to ask if he had the same view from Red Lodge.

He was waiting up when I arrived. Past 10 o’clock, a long day behind me, family ahead. The Ski Camino had just gotten better.

💡 Ski Camino Tips — Chapter 5

America the Beautiful Senior Pass: If you’re 62 or older this is the single best deal in outdoor recreation. $80 for lifetime access to every national park and federal recreation area in the country. Buy it at the first park entrance you reach — you’ll use it immediately.

Jackson Lake cross-country skiing: Pull over at the Jackson Lake turnout on your way back from the Yellowstone road closure and ski the lake. Bring your own skis, follow the tracks, and turn around before dark. The Tetons from the ice are unforgettable.

The Priceline counter move: If a hotel won’t honor their Priceline rate when you walk in, open Priceline on your phone and book it while standing at the desk. Works every time.

Jackson Hole golden ticket: Ikon pass holders can purchase discounted single-day tickets at Jackson Hole — roughly half price. Buy in advance online for the best rate. Well worth it for one of the best ski mountains in North America.

Start Jackson Hole methodically: The groomers are excellent but the off-piste terrain is icy early in the day. Start on greens and blues, let the snow soften until mid-morning, then push into the harder stuff.

Corbet’s Cabin: Ride the aerial tram to the top and stop at Corbet’s Cabin for a waffle and coffee before dropping into Rendezvous Bowl. The views alone are worth the tram ticket.

Drive Wind River Canyon in daylight: If you’re heading from Jackson toward Red Lodge, time it so you’re through Wind River Canyon and Boysen State Park before dark. The scenery is spectacular and you’ll regret missing it.

Next: Chapter 6 — Red Lodge, Basin Lake & Skiing with My Brother

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