I screeched to a halt when azure Colter Bay, framed in the Grand Tetons listing to the northwest like sails in a brisk wind, came into view. The gallant spires standing guard over Jackson Hole, Wyoming look just as they did when explorer John Colter discovered them in 1807. Grand Teton National Park, just south of Yellowstone, with its host of natural wonders, is smaller, more intimate and more easily explored than its big sister. I couldn't wait to do a little birding and bump into some wildlife while hiking on the 250-miles of trails that connect a string of glacier-spawned lakes at the foot of the mountains. On my drive through Jackson Hole, on the way to the Spotted Horse Guest Ranch, I saw anglers standing knee deep in the chill waters of the Snake River, while others floated on rafts down the main artery purling through the heart of the valley.

Ninety-seven percent of the county of Jackson is preserved, making it one of the last bastions of the Wild-West. The best way to experience the vastness of Wyoming is on the back of a good horse. Laid-back dude ranches in Jackson Hole have been hosting greenhorns since Teddy Roosevelt's time. The Spotted Horse Guest Ranch, sixteen miles south of historic, trendy Jackson, is far enough away from the summer crowds that you can get a taste of how it was here in the 1930s when the ranch was officially homesteaded and enjoy nearby attractions on daytrips.

Daily rides at the ranch range from two-hour jaunts through aspen groves spiked with Indian paintbrush to day-rides on miles of trails that switch back up to soul-stirring vistas of the 150,000-acre Bridger-Teton National Forest surrounding the ranch. Extended rides with stays at overnight tent camps are available for people, like me, who just can't get enough time in the saddle.

The rocking chair on the porch of my log cabin overlooking the Hoback snaking through the belly of the ranch, felt like the home I've always wanted. I went to sleep to the low murmur of the river and awoke to birdsong. The clip-clop of the horses crossing the bridge that spans the river and the yelp of the wrangler bringing them in from pasture for the day's rides said it was time for breakfast. Each dude is matched to a mount for the week that suits their riding skills. While the wranglers tack up the horses, guests fuel up on homemade biscuits and gravy, eggs, bacon, ham and fresh fruit.

I felt impatient with the pace of my first ride, but as we steadily climbed up a shady draw lined with wild roses, I could see this was going to be a big day for the horses. With the intense thrum of cicadas and butterflies wafting by on the crisp morning breeze that set the aspen leaves to spinning, I began to rest easy. Once aloft we did a little trailblazing through a meadow blanketed with yellow arrowroot. We flushed a couple a stray elk on our way to our lunch stop, where the wranglers were waiting for us with burgers on the grill. Our ride home took us across a ridge overlooking the ranch nestled in the broad green Hoback River Valley. We covered a lot of ground with some tricky footing. Our well-mannered, fit mounts stayed calm through it all allowing the greenest dude to enjoy a taste of the old west. I spent the entire week riding on well-groomed trails without running into another person. Call me selfish, but that is the way I like my wide-open spaces.

Anglers at the ranch can try their luck on the Hoback, go for a sure thing in the stocked pond at the ranch, or take an all day float on the Snake, Green or Salt Rivers in pursuit of feisty trout. Kids have fun tubing down the Hoback, and they have their own teepee for pow-wows. Everyone gets gussied up for the rodeo, where cowboys get pitched into the air by mustangs with regularity. Guests swap lies at end of the day in the saloon, then they saunter into the rustic dining hall with a view of the Hoback at sundown to enjoy yet another wholesome spread.

On my day off from the ranch, I visited Jenny Lake. Trapper 'Beaver Dick' Leigh and his Indian wife, Jenny, lived in the valley when vast herds of elk, buffalo and antelope populated the sage meadows. In exchange for bountiful summers with trout, berries, and roots galore, they suffered severe winters that can reach sixty below. Jenny and Leigh lakes are named after Beaver Dick's wife, who died, along with their six children from smallpox one sad Christmas. Today Jenny Lake, with a water taxi to the trail of anything but Hidden Falls, is easily accessed by seniors and children. The more intrepid can continue up the trail to Cascade Canyon where solitude, heavenly vistas, ice-blue glacier cirques and alpine wildflowers can be found. I took the shady two-mile loop tracing the shoreline back to the dock.

On my last day at the ranch, I pressed our wrangler guide for a fast ride. He tipped his cowboy hat to me and then in his quiet way led our group of six experienced riders up the trail we had taken on the day ride. Once aloft the mountain, he raised his hand, signaling us to follow him at a gallop across the high-country meadow. We went from a shambling trot to full-tilt boogie in three seconds. I felt like the caboose on a runaway freight train. I had no choice but to get into the western movement. Sit back and sink deep into the saddle, let your arm dangle for ballast and pray to stay with your mount's movement and trust his sure-footed maneuverability. Excited yeehas and yahoos came from the other riders. When we stopped for a breather, I looked to Senna, a wrangler guide from Holland with formal equestrian training, for help. She laughed and said 'Hang on to your hat. This is the Wild West!'
IF YOU GO
Spotted Horse Ranch
12355 South US Highway 191
Jackson Hole, Wyoming 83001
1-800-528-2084
Email:info@spottedhorseranch.com
www.spottedhorseranch.com