Monday, December 12, 2011
Show Me Your Grand Tetons
Snake River Brewing Company
265 South Millward St.
Sometimes you definitely want the window seat.
This is the only commercial airport in America located entirely within a National Park.
The Grand Tetons rise straight up out of the valley just a mile to the west of the terminal, silhouetted against the still crimson autumn sky.
As I admired the snow caped peaks towering overhead while I threw my luggage in the truck of my Impala rental, I realized that this was the sixth airport I had traipsed through in the last 24 hours.
Let me tell you, that is a hell of a lot of TSA testicle groping for one day. Way too much.
I needed a beer. Bad.
Can you imagine the first dude who laid eyes on them?
Well, to be perfectly politically correct, that would probably have been some club-wielding caveman 11,000 years ago.
No. I’m talking about the first dude who crossed the Snake River winding through the valley and looked up and exclaimed, “Wow. This is cool. I need to go back and tell people about this.”
As it turns out, that dude was probably one of a party of early 19th Century French Canadian fur trappers looking for beaver. (I’m not making this up.)
Theses lonely French explorers took one look at this majestic mountain range and immediately named it “Grand Teton”. The first thing that popped into their sick little minds.
Roughly translated: “big titties.”
Obviously, they had been away from the comforts of Montreal for WAY too long.
Great. Thanks to these sex starved Frenchies, we now have a National Park named after what sounds more like a Bourbon Street strip club.
Located a block or two off the main drag of tourist Mecca Jackson, Wyoming, Snake River Brewing is a favorite hangout of shaggy-haired twenty-something Silicon Valley trust fund babies whiling away their summers waiting for the first snowfall to break out their snow boards.
On a Tuesday night at 10:30pm, the place was packed.
All beer is brewed on premises in big copper vats right behind the bar.
I tried the Snake River Pale Ale first.
My second choice – the Zonker Stout – was much better. Strong, flavorful and malty, this was one of the better microbrewed stouts I’ve had in a while.
To wash down my beer, I ordered a BBQ chorizo peach pizza.
Yes. You read that right. Peaches on a pizza.
I quickly calculated that this is the first time I have voluntarily eaten peach since my mother force fed me when I was a child.
But you know what? The sweetness of the fruit nicely complimented the spicy chorizo.
And I’d take another swig of Zonker Stout.
Traveling can take a toll on the mind and the spirit.
Just think about those French beaver trappers so far from home. They took one look at a mountain range and thought “sex”.
But thanks to Snake River Brewing Company, the next time I see those mountains I’ll be thinking peaches and beer.
Rating: Seriously Thought About Buying Shirt.