Cowboy country

For spine-chilling skiing in the Wild West, Belinda Archer takes a trot to Jackson Hole

Back in 1930, John Wayne, the greatest cowboy of them all, made a film called The Big Trail. This was significant for a number of reasons. It was his first ever speaking-part. It was also reputedly the first time he had ridden a horse, on or off camera. But most notably of all, the film was shot in Jackson Hole.

Jackson Hole is the quintessential cowboy town, set in the officially recognised "Cowboy State" of Wyoming, where cows outnumber people five to one. By spring, it is a bustling base for visits to the nearby Yellowstone National Park. But in the winter, it becomes a seriously rugged ski destination with a breathtaking backdrop of the Teton Mountains and the winding Snake River stretching out across the valley. The cowboys are still in evidence too.

They can be seen shuffling along the wooden sidewalks of Jackson town itself. They can be spotted in the saloons and bars. They can even, occasionally, be seen riding their horses up to the slopes with their skis slung over their shoulders (although, I admit, I never saw any during my visit). In short, to go there is to enter a film-set for some kind of latterday spaghetti western, but with added snow.

"The cowboy vibe is not a manicured Disneyland thing," says Samantha Denny, a local resident who works for one of the Jackson hotel groups. "They're working cowboys here. They're given grants to carry on being cowboys by state bodies, such as the Land Trust. You occasionally see the requisite fake cowboy in full regalia, but mostly they are for real."

Jackson Hole is justifiably proud of its Old West heritage. While not quite cashing in, it certainly makes the most of it. There are western-themed restaurants and après-ski joints (check out the slightly touristy but lively Mangy Moose or locals' hangout Nick Wilson's Cowboy Café, its walls adorned with an array of scuffed old boots).

There are country music saloons (including the crammed Stagecoach Bar in nearby Wilson, which holds "Sunday Night Church" meetings, the music being the religion). There are also western clothing outlets, "contemporary western" art galleries and cowboy souvenir shops, plus pool halls and saloons, the best of these being the Million Dollar Cowboy Bar on Jackson town square, with its bar stools made of saddles and stuffed grizzly bear. It is so authentic one can easily imagine a drunken tussle breaking out and Jack Palance or Alan Ladd (Shane was filmed here, too) busting a stool over someone's head.

Even the ski slopes in Jackson have names like Sleeping Indian, Buffalo Bowl and Cowboy Couloir while the chair lifts are called Eagle's Rest and Moose Creek Quad.

Jackson is one big scary monster of a ski resort, full of eye-watering cliffs and chutes and "expert only" double-black-diamond steeps that you can't find anywhere in the Alps, except by paying a guide and going way off-piste. It is a skiers' paradise, also boasting one of the biggest verticals in the US(1,260m). Put simply, Jackson Hole ain't no place for yellow-bellied cautious intermediates: it's for the brave.

"The name Jackson Hole sends shivers down the spines of skiers all over the world," says Benny Wilson, an instructor with the local Mountain Sports School who has lived in the valley all his life. "It is known for its amazing steeps and seemingly endless runs, and its out-of-bounds are also some of the steepest and deepest in North America. It is the Chamonix of the US," he adds, "Lily-livers, beware."

The resort certainly seems to have more than its fair share of "Caution Cliff Area" signs, and its supposed status as the hardiest place to ski in North America is typified by Corbet's Couloir, the gnarly double-black diamond run that starts with a 15m vertical drop and makes even the toughest skier wince. I watched several stand at the top, look over the edge, and pull back sharpish.

Unlike most other ski resorts across the US, Jackson Hole also allows skiers out into the back country via its "closed boundary, open gate" policy. Most prohibit this, for fear of legal reprisals, but Jackson opens up its wild off-piste terrain—so long as you enter via one of the gates, which are emblazoned with all kinds of caution notices (effectively amounting to disclaimers).

Anna Olson, brand director at the Jackson Hole Mountain Resort, adds: "The Tetons are made of granite, so the runs are hard and steep, and there is only a limited amount of grooming done, so much of the ski area remains natural and unmanicured." No corduroy slopes or smoothed-out bumps here, although the resort's annual average snowfall of around 12m certainly helps to fill in the gaps and soften the pain of any tumbles.

Staying in Jackson Hole poses a bit of a problem. To really experience the cowboy vibe, you need to stay in Jackson town itself. The Alpine House is a charming, slightly hippy, downtown bed and breakfast which serves terrific morning feasts that set you up nicely for a day's mean skiing. The disadvantage to any Jackson accommodation, however, is that the ski resort, called Teton Village, is a 25-minute bus ride away—so the dedicated skier might well prefer to stay there.

In the village there is a whole range of smart accommodation, from the achingly hip new eco-boutique Hotel Terra to any number of upscale lodges, such as the immense, deeply luxurious North Colter Lodge. Alternatively, the Asian-themed Aman hotel chain also has its only US outpost at Jackson Hole, located on a remote butte 25 minutes away from the village. Go there for chilling out with the beautiful people.
So, if your skiing is good-to-great and you are looking for an authentically rugged ski experience with a Wild West twist, head for Wyoming. You might even rub shoulders with local residents Harrison Ford, Dick Cheney or former World Bank president James Wolfensohn. Or, of course, a modern-day John Wayne.