Crumbs in my 'Stache: Where dead bears go to party

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

By Ben Cannon

I began last week’s Crumbs by asking you, loyal readers, if you had visited Grumpy’s Goat Shack, the great little hot dog joint over in Victor, Idaho.

While Grumpy’s might be a little off the beaten path for many Jacksonites, it’s not, in the scheme of things, that esoteric of a joint. I’m willing to bet that even fewer of you have actually dropped in the Elk Horn, the saloon and restaurant (and gas station) up in Bondurant. Yes, Bondurant is south of Jackson Hole, but upriver, hence it is up from here. And that, in case you didn’t know, is just the sort of real Wyoming sense that will suit you, should you make the 35-minute drive and find yourself on the other side of Hoback Canyon, in that narrow ranching valley called Bondurant, or “Bondy,” to some.

The Elk Horn is where Bondurant locals go, by and large, to drink Budweiser products, smoke cigs, shoot pool and generally shoot the breeze with one another. Many of the bar’s patrons live and work in the valley, but some of them commute daily from Jackson as well, residing either along 191 or farther south, in Hoback Ranches. On a recent evening, photographer Sam Fitz and I stopped in for a burger.

Though Gina behind the bar had already shut down the adjacent gas grill, she graciously fired it back up and threw us on a couple of burgers, and dropped onion rings and fries into the still hot frying oil.

We sat down next to Sharon Crittenden, who, with husband Paul, has Sleeping Indian Outfitters, from where you can rent out a good horse to ride toward the sheer and toothy Gros Ventre Range.

“You might be lucky and get to be here for a bear party later,” Sharon said. The spring black bear hunt is going on now and it is a local tradition in Bondurant that when somebody bags a bear or, more rarely, a cougar, it is brought inside the Elk Horn and propped up at the bar, front paws akimbo and, often, its fleshy dead tongue lolling from its wild mouth.

Sitting on a ledge near the pool table, a stack of photo albums document past bear and cougar parties. Thumbing through them also reveals a pictorial history of Elk Horn patrons of the last decade and beyond: smiling people partying in Hawaiian leis, younger-looking, familiar faces, less weathered by life and the elements.
As it turned out, there was a bear party later that night, though by then we had moseyed back down to Jackson, a dark sky and bright moon above us in Hoback Canyon. Next time maybe I’ll catch a call from a Pinedale friend heading north and drive on up.

Oh and the burgers, served on a surprisingly nice Kaiser bun, were fine.

Photo by SAMUEL FITZ
Locals pony up to the bar in Bondy’s Elk Horn.

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Crumbs in my 'Stache: Where dead bears go to party | Planet JH News Article: Restaurants And Dining

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