Do people really hunt down old cemeteries on vacation? Apparently, and apparently when I’m along we’re some of them! Gin had found some information about the Charles Allen cemetery, which the guidebook said was in a grassy field between the Snake River and the highway near the Jackson Lake Junction. Charles Allen was an early Jackson who opened a hotel and general store at the site in 1902. Allegedly, when he eventually sold his land he insisted the cemetery not be moved. Well, we looked in that field, even with
binoculars, and there was no cemetery that we could find. As we were driving around, Tim spotted a ranger and pulled over to ask him if he knew where we could find the cemetery. He had no knowledge of a cemetery at that location, but gave us directions to another old cemetery on top of a hill nearby. His directions were spot-on, and we soon found the old graveyard right where he said it was. It was overgrown with sagebrush and arrowleaf balsamroot, and there were a couple dozen graves, some old, but some as recent as the 90’s. Oddly enough, there were a few Allens buried there. Maybe the cemetery was moved after Charles Allen died and could no longer have a say in it. Regardless, the stupid people writing the guidebook should check their information a little better before they publish it. In spite of their bad information, we did find an old cemetery and that is sweet!After we went back to the campground to pick up the rest of the group, we stopped at the Chapel of The Sacred Heart. The little log church on a hilltop overlooking Jackson Lake was built in 1937, and still holds masses to this day. The wildflower-covered hill behind the chapel slopes down to Jackson Lake, and we strolled down to look at the crystal clear water with its magnificent view of the Tetons. Dane showed off his impressive rock-skipping skills for us. Wow, is he good! The rock would literally skate over the water’s surface.
There is a wonderful fragrance in the air here; Gin noticed which bushes were emitting the lovely smell and Deb found out they were Thimbleberry bushes. I hope to find some candles or sachets with that wonderful essence so I can surround myself with it back home.
The drive south to Jenny Lake gave us many opportunities to stop and take pictures of the mountains. At every turn is another magnificent view, and we couldn’t resist stopping again and again to take yet another photo. These rugged, snow-capped mountains are simply breathtaking with the morning sun shining off their slopes, and soon we were among them at Jenny Lake, ready to explore. This lake is named for the Shoshone wife of trapper “Beaver Dick” Leigh. Ol’ Beaver Dick has given us quite a few giggles, let me assure you. I told you we are all acting like we’re about 12 years old on this trip.
We all took boat rides on Jenny Lake, Dan and Deb to take a scenic cruise around the lake, and the rest of
us to the foot of the Cascade Canyon Trail. The first part of the trail to Hidden Falls is a half-mile, and another half-mile trail takes you up to Inspiration Point. It’s not a difficult hike, and it’s made more pleasant by the twists and turns that bring you around again and again to Cascade Creek. The water tumbles and froths around boulders and cascades down the rocky streambed. Some bridges allowed us to cross the creek and enjoy the sights both up and downstream. We viewed the falls through a frame of pine trees; the torrent of snowmelt rushing down to meet Jenny Lake.The next section of trail took us away from Cascade Creek and up the mountain. The path became steeper and narrower and the footing more treacherous as we ascended. We rested a few times in the thin air, but finally arrived at the 7,200-foot peak. A magnificent vista spread before us of Jenny Lake with the mountains beyond. After the climb, we took some time to enjoy the view and take some pictures before beginning our descent.
Then it’s a mile down and two miles around the shore of the lake back to the parking lot (that is, when the main trail isn’t closed for renovation and you have to take the horse trail, which adds not only length but difficulty.) Even though Dane claims he hates to walk, he hung right with us and pointed out interesting sights along the way. He always has some witty commentary to keep us entertained. We were a sweaty and hungry group when we met Dan and Deb at the visitor’s center, stamped our passports, and headed for a shady spot for lunch.
We had one more passport stop to make at the Moose Visitor Station. It has some excellent wildlife exhibits, but Dane was most fascinated by the pay phone. He had never used one, and made a call to his mom just to try it out. By then, we were all ready to go back to our primitive cabins and relax a little after our strenuous day.
We decided to make one more attempt to find Huckleberry Hot Springs. Tim had talked to someone who wasn’t stupid and got some better directions. The directions were excellent and the hike to the springs wasn’t too long; unfortunately the hot springs were too damn hot to get into! So back to the Polecat River we trekked. We found a nice section with a rocky bottom and some small rapids and waded in. It was warm enough it was obvious there was some hot water feeding into it upstream. Dane, Sierra and Tim worked on a dam and us women just relaxed in the water and enjoyed the scenery.
After a campfire dinner of Chicken & Rice and garlic bread and some much-needed showers, Dane and I took over an empty campsite with a power box and charged all our electronics. We watched the videos he had taken, and marveled once again at the buffalo crossing we had watched at such close range yesterday. When we finally turned in, the girls’ cabin was in a goofy mood. We lay in the dark, giggling and making a list of everything this campground had wrong. If they’d just listen to us! We finally drifted off in those incredibly hard beds that we decided might be made with recycled tires. Nothing else could be that hard! That’s all for today, folks!
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