The Mammoth Hotel at night. It ranged from -1 to about 23 degrees during our visit. I love the grandeur of a National Park lodge/hotel. An affluence from days gone by. And also a sense of vulnerability.
You HAVE to have a room for us. And we HAVE to have dinner reservations. Because we dressed for dinner! And we'll DIE out there! Where shall we have our brandies?
Despite the sense of grandeur, the rooms are rather spartan. But of course, immaculately clean and very comfortable.
SOAP TEDDY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hahahahah!
Super old-school infrastructure. The bottom is an on/off switch for the light in the room, one button in or one button out. The top button once rang to the front desk. Which is really a one-way communication system. "Come to my room, I need something." Likely, a brandy.
The dining room! We were both smitten with the lighting, appropriate for both pre-skiing breakfast buffet, and also apres-ski bison tenderloin and a pinot noir.
Our experiences were spotty here. We had the same charcuterie appetizer plate both nights, and the first night it was good, the second night, it was FANTASTIC! Same with service. But mostly lovely. This photo also reminds me of a long discussion we had about how most of my sports gear is my husband's cast-offs from about 12 years ago. This insulated shirt has served us well.
You don't find a red-carpeted spiral staircase at the Howard Johnson's. So elegant. We preferred the stairs to the third floor over the insanely small antique elevator.
No thank you.
And just the tiniest
bit Shining-y.
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