Tuesday, October 06, 2009 by Jason Oliver Nixon.
If camping with Team Subaru was the ice cream on the cake of my Wyoming adventure, then the last night of our Subaru Responsible Recreation Excursion sojourn was the chocolate sauce, sprinkles and cherry on top. For after four nights of roughing it, we packed up tent—following the guidance of our Leave No Trace comrades, natch—and zipped off in our groovy Outbacks and Foresters for a night at the nearby super-luxe Amangani resort in Jackson Hole.
Amangani Exterior: Look at the luxe lines of the Amangani resort high atop Jackson Hole, Wyoming. C-h-i-c! And that’s no joke. This is the perfect place to rekindle romance and strip yourself of post-camping grime.
Perched atop a mountain and with stellar views of the Grand Tetons and surrounding landscape, the Amangani is a bastion of Asian-inflected style and calm. And although sad to give up the keys to my Subaru, I was also happy to ditch the camping togs and return to my driving moccasins and cashmere sweaters with a libidinous martini in hand—especially since I partook of the libation beside the hotel’s infinite-edged pool with vistas onto far-off ranch lands. (It’s amazing how far the sound of moo-ing cows travels! Bessie and her bovine besties were practically in my olives.)
The Pool: The pool at the Amangani is delicious—all infinite-edged and high glam. I sat poolside and sipped cocktails to the delicious tunes of School of Seven Bells and Olive with an occasional cameo by Bessie the Cow and her cronies. Moo!
Next up, a glorious full-body massage in the Amangani’s relaxed-chic spa before some time in the steam room and a bit of lounging about in a robe and slippers. I quickly ditched my Backpacker magazine and Orvis catalogue for current issues of Vogue and Architectural Digest . . . One must look the part in the various scenarios that come their way, n’est-ca pas?
Cocktails were served alfresco under the stars, and I chatted up my fellow former campers and bigwigs from Subaru as I nibbled frisky canapés. It was sort of amazing the transformation that had taken place: We had all morphed from Jeremiah Johnson-cum-Sacajawea into city slickers with buffed and polished skin and nary a vestige of Patagonia in sight. Dinner was fabulous: I supped on wonderfully tender bison finished off with glorious cheeses. Not quite S’mores, but that’s OK. I sort of loathe marshmallows, truth be told.
Grizzly Adams: Here I am in full “camping” gear as I cross the Snake River. Maybe I am constipated? I truly cannot explain this strange look on my face.
Then it was on to more cocktails and bed and back to NYC. Now I am off to Italy for a few weeks in Bologna and Venice. Watch for my Tweets!
Zip, zip and zip!