In Jackson, mountains offer varied thrills

Kurt Johnson carefully scanned a snow-covered butte as we drove slowly through the National Elk Refuge in Jackson, Wyo. Johnson was on the lookout for a particular herd of bighorn sheep visible only during the winter, when deep piles of snow drive them down from the upper reaches of the Tetons.

But there wasn't much life on this dreary December day, only an expansive gray sky that seemed to melt into the butte's mist-shrouded peak. Then suddenly Johnson gave a jerk. "There they are," he said, pointing halfway down the hillside. "A ram and two ewes."

I grabbed my binoculars, but all I could see were gray rocks and sagebrush poking through the thin snow cover. Then Johnson carefully guided my gaze. Suddenly the three bighorn popped into view -- just as the ram began chasing one of the females back and forth.

"He's still hormonal," said Johnson with surprise, noting that their breeding season had ended the previous month.

I couldn't take my eyes off the massive ram, with its immense, curled horns. I had never seen one in the wild, and the last time I saw one on film was probably back in the 1970s while watching an episode of "Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom." I couldn't wait to see what we'd spy next.

Like most every other visitor in the heart of winter, I'd traveled to Jackson Hole -- the 80-mile-long valley in which the town of Jackson sits -- to ski the Tetons. But I passed on bunking in Teton Village, the ski community at the base of the Grand Tetons. Instead, looking for a true Western experience, I signed up for Spring Creek Ranch whose rustic hotel rooms, condos and homes overlook the Teton mountain range. Once I settled in, my itinerary changed.

Yeah, the skiing was supposed to be phenomenal, but I could ski at home, even if our "mountains" were really no more than bumps in the snow. What I definitely couldn't do was see bighorn sheep.

Safari tracks animals in wild

Johnson, resident naturalist at Spring Creek, leads a variety of outings for guests, and he's good. Just minutes into our wildlife safari, he'd helped me find the bighorn, a shrike -- the only predatory songbird in North America -- and about 1,000 elk. As we criss-crossed Grand Teton National Park in Johnson's van, we spotted trumpeter swans, ducks and three moose, including a bull quietly munching on bitter brush.

Near the end of our day, Johnson drove to Kelly Warm Springs, a tiny thermal pool northeast of town that stays about 70 degrees year-round. "People dumped their aquarium fish in here over the years, so you can often see tropical fish and bullfrogs," he said, adding he once spotted a foot-long goldfish. We quietly crept around the pool and found one black-and-gray-striped tropical fish, but no mutant goldfish.

Photo class offers expert tips

The next day, rain and sleet kept me from skiing. But I wasn't upset. Instead, I signed up for Spring Creek's Grand Teton Photo Safari with acclaimed photographer Scott McKinley.

"I much prefer this type of day to one with a bluebird sky," McKinley told me, as he scanned the gray skies. "You have to learn to recognize a day's potential and exploit it."

Clutching my digital camera nervously, I listened as he explained that gray days are great to shoot color and detail, while sunny days are good for expansive shots. Move your camera from automatic to manual, he instructed. "Now you're in creative control."

I spotted a field of vibrant red willows, stunning in the gray haze and drizzle. McKinley showed me how to focus on the willows and blur the background.

When we spied two moose, I chalked it up to a lost cause; they were too far away. Not so fast, said McKinley, pointing out that the trees in the distance had intriguing shapes. If I set my camera properly, I could capture not only the trees, but the sleet in motion and the grazing moose. I began shooting away and the resulting shots were some of the most beautiful I got from the entire trip.

Hitting the trail on dog sleds

Day three and the sun finally emerged. No doubt, this would be a great day to ski. But the folks at Spring Creek were raving about the Jackson Hole Iditarod Sled Dog Tours, so I signed on.

The sled dog headquarters -- in Bridger-Teton National Park, 23 miles southeast of Jackson -- looked like a shanty town, with nearly 200 mushroom-shaped wooden kennels lined up in the back yard, a small white, brown or black dog tethered to each.

A worker suddenly smiled mischievously, then tilted her head back and began to howl. One dog chimed in, then another, and soon the entire yard was filled with the dogs' soulful voices.

The eight dogs at the front of my sled took off like rockets. We sledded out 10 miles to Granite Creek Canyon and its hot springs, where we took a dip, ate lunch, then sledded back.

Skiing at last

Another beautiful day, and finally time to ski. Jackson Hole Mountain Resort in Teton Village is known worldwide for its steep skiing and deep powder. With more than 2,000 acres of terrain, a vertical drop of more than 4,000 feet and fast-moving lift lines, I could see the appeal.

Still, cross-country skiing is my thing, so I admired the mountains, then headed to the Nordic Center instead.

The resort offers 23 kilometers of groomed trails and quick access to trails in the adjacent Teton National Forest. I chose the latter option, but quickly signed up for a guided ski after learning the forest trails were unmarked and the day's avalanche probability was high. Casey Brown, my young guide, matched my stride as we headed into the forest.

I eagerly drank in the majestic Tetons to my left. Suddenly Brown came to an abrupt stop. "Looks like there are some moose in the area," she said. "And they're not always friendly, so let's wait a minute." I wasn't sure how she knew moose were around until I saw the smattering of moose droppings under her skis.

After she was satisfied that no mama moose was going to threaten us, we headed on, looping through the woods, across a stream, then back to the Nordic Center.

I appreciated the skiing; it was phenomenal. But it was the wildlife -- even the possibility of seeing moose on the ski trail -- that would bring me back to Jackson again.

Travel writer Melanie Radzicki McManus is based in Sun Prairie, Wis.