Today was an exhausting for both of us. Perhaps it was the heat, or the 6500’ altitude when we are used to a seaside 100’ or perhaps it’s the start of our days at 6 am CT which is 5 am PT which is just damn early. For me, there is breakfast, work and then an evening together. Maybe all the travel has taken it’s toll. In any case, we decided to play tourist in Jackson.

The vibe here is part cow town, part ski resort, and part hipsterville. Hankering for Italian food, we dined at Orsetto, where we were waited on by sun-kissed staff with really nice hair. I had a Wilson IPA to wash down the caprese salad, bread, and bucatini with guanciale and onions. I inhaled it all. Francesca was also very happy with her penne and extra-fluffy meatballs. Full, we toyed with dessert which we decided to forego and instead, meandered the crowded tourist streets of bars, shops, galleries and restaurants. We admired the Million Dollar Cowboy Bar with it’s iconic beautiful neon of a cowboy being bucked by a horse. We saw the many tourists take their semi-obligatory photo at the archway of elk antlers which flanked the corners of the town plaza. While we were admiring the many bronze statues in town, I saw a young couple with their toddler son. They were in front of a very large, anatomically correct, muscular bull. The statue was an unabashed homage to hyper masculinity and virility. The father picks up his son and puts it under the bull’s testicles and then takes a photo. I smile and say, “I see you’ve taken a blackmail photo. Hopefully, he won’t have to endure too many years of therapy.” The young couple throw back their heads and giggle.