Jackson, Wyo., is a special place. It’s a little ski town at the base of the Tetons and is home to North America’s top ski resort. It’s youthful, progressive, vibrant, cosmopolitan, busy with art galleries and music venues and quirky shops and restaurants that are open past 9 p.m. And for all of these reasons, the rest of Wyoming kind of hates it. It’s too much like Colorado, they say. It’s another state in itself, they say.
I get it. Resort towns are full of rich assholes. And in a state that prides itself on being “Forever West” (read: “We were the first to let women vote so let’s just leave it at that and not change anything else.”), Jackson sticks out like a sore thumb. But I like it. I like it because it has all of those social and cultural opportunities that I loved about living in college towns all my life. And if you’ve had enough of the rich assholes, it’s a short drive out into some of the most beautiful wilderness in the country.
That being said, this Indiana transplant thinks Jackson is just peachy. End rant.
The Whiskey Barber is one of those quirky little shops I mentioned earlier. It’s a barbershop. Every town’s got one. But these guys go above and beyond to make their shop a boy’s club to shame all other boy’s clubs. Bring in a bottle of your favorite whiskey and keep it on the shelf. They won’t drink it. It’s just for you – a few little sips while you’re getting your dome trimmed. They’ll even throw in a straight-razor shave and a neck and shoulder massage to boot.