Day 27- Trading Crowds for Cows at the Caribbean of the Rockies
October 15th, 2025
We start the day with a hearty breakfast in downtown Jackson Hole at the Virginian Lodge Restaurant — yes, named after the classic TV show “The Virginian.” Photos of the show’s actors line the walls as we tuck into our country breakfast in a cozy western lodge atmosphere filled with cowboy artifacts and rustic charm.
The Queen orders her favorite — eggs Benedict with bacon and home fries — while the King, feeling the frontier spirit, goes for the Cowhand Special: two eggs over easy, a sausage patty, two giant pancakes, and home fries. It hits the spot, and with full bellies, our tanks are officially topped off for the day.
After breakfast, Jess heads up the street for a nail appointment while I move the van out of the closing RV park and contemplate our next move. Before long, we’re back together and cruising the streets of Jackson in our trusty 25-foot chariot, hoping to find a public parking spot (a tip from Steve, the RV park manager) so we can stroll downtown.
No such luck. By 11:30 a.m., traffic is bumper-to-bumper, and the public lot is jam-packed. After a couple of loops dodging congestion — including way too many 16-wheelers — I make the executive decision to keep rolling. Honestly, it felt a lot like downtown Chatham in peak summer: crowded, cranky, and claustrophobic.
As we head south out of town, I pull over to check the map. The Queen, always resourceful and armed with her impeccable research skills, announces, “I think we should go to Bear Lake, Utah. It’s called the Caribbean of the Rockies, and there’s a state park right on the water. It’s on our way.”
Without hesitation, the royal caravan is back in motion — 132 miles down Highway 89, following the spectacular Snake River.
Later we learn the river’s name came from a Lewis and Clark mix-up: they mistook a Shoshone hand sign for “winding river” as meaning “snake.” Fitting, since the Snake River valley truly winds — deep canyons, cliffs on both sides, the river glinting a couple of hundred feet below as it snakes through the foothills of the Targhee National Forest. The road matches its twists and turns, and the Queen, not loving the steep drop-offs, yells, “Slow down!” Good thing the King’s got an extra set of eyes on board.
We eventually leave the river behind as it veers west, and the landscape opens into wide Wyoming ranch country. Small towns flicker by as we weave south near the Idaho border.
In Afton, WY, we pass under the world’s largest arch made of elk antlers — 75 feet wide, spanning all four lanes of Main Street. Built in 1958 from 3,011 naturally shed antlers, it weighs 15 tons. “I could live here,” I say, and I mean it.
Soon we’re climbing again through the Targhee National Forest, where signs warn of “Open Range Cattle.” Herds of cows graze freely across the BLM mountains, unconcerned by passing traffic. We drive through a quick but heavy thunderstorm at the summit, and as we descend, we cross into Idaho — Mormon country.
In the tidy little town of Paris, ID, we pass a beautiful, white-spired Mormon church standing like a postcard scene. The town is pristine… and eerily quiet. We continue south past more ranches, and then — there it is — a flash of turquoise in the distance.
Bear Lake.
Set at nearly 6,000 feet above sea level, the lake stretches 18 miles long and 7 miles wide. Known as the Caribbean of the Rockies for its stunning turquoise-blue color, the hue comes from the refraction of calcium carbonate particles suspended in the water. Scientists believe these unique conditions even led to the evolution of species found nowhere else on Earth.
Estimated to be between 250,000 and several million years old, Bear Lake is one of the cleanest in Utah and reaches depths of over 200 feet on its eastern side. Standing on the shore, we instantly see why it’s earned its nickname — absolutely gorgeous, framed by the towering Bear River Mountains glowing in the afternoon sun.
At the southern tip of the lake, we reach tiny Laketown (pop. 323 — definitely more cows than people) and find Big Creek Campground, where we snag a prime lakefront spot with panoramic views. Only one other RV is in sight, a retired couple from Sacramento headed cross-country to visit friends in Florida.
As the sun sinks behind the foothills, we enjoy dinner by the fire, the lake glowing under a canopy of stars. This — this right here — is what nomad van life is all about. Peace, space, and pure Mother Nature.
The Queen absolutely hit a home run finding this gem in the Rockies. Another royal day in the books. 🍀😎🍺
Our campsite view :)