Features

Kelly Bettner felt like pinching herself. Just a few hours earlier, she had slipped out of her house, leaving her three sleeping children at home with her husband, and headed to Teton Canyon, where she took off running up the trail to Alaska Basin.

The forecast was gloomy with 40-degree temperatures and rain, but the cozy office was bubbling with enthusiastic birders ready to see sandhill cranes.

Teton Valley has deep roots in agriculture. For decades, the open lands and pastoral foothills have supported acres and acres of potatoes, wheat, barley, and hay, or been grazed by herds of cattle and sheep—a contrasting complement to the towering peaks that surround the basin, beckoning locals and visitors alike to explore the many trails and slopes.

Like a loud, fast, airborne cowboy, the helicopter pilot swoops low across the dry, sage-covered rangeland, moving the wave of wild horses. Small bands of mustangs below the helicopter run toward the temporary chute in the middle of the barren landscape.

Everything around here comes back to water. From the deep powder in the mountains that draws visitors and locals, to the torrential summer rains that revive dusty sagebrush and alfalfa, it dictates our lives.

An evening float down the Teton River is a classic Teton Valley experience. By mid-summer, the river is slow and lazy. Boaters can sit back and watch the world drift by as the river twists its way through thickets of willow and past open farmland.

As far back as anyone can remember, there have been stories of the land and the people, and of the way life has ebbed and flowed through the valley. These are the stories that bind us to history and, so often, to our own identity—a connection to the past and a promise of the future.

We caught up with four avid gardeners positioned from Tetonia to Victor to share a snapshot of their hearty plots. When asked about their biggest challenge, they all shared the same sentiment: the climate.

These terms are tossed around as we peer into scopes, watching the first of the evening’s stars—celestial bodies composed of hydrogen and helium—crest the horizon.

That inspiration is well known in Jackson, where a thriving gallery scene and the Fall Arts Festival attract thousands of art lovers to the region. For years, Jackson has also been a focal point for many talented professional artists, but the cost of living there has driven some of those artists west to Teton Valley, where the views are just as spectacular and the rents a wee bit lower.