noun- a strong underground prison cell, especially in a medieval castle. Then above the dungeon is the castle, one where the family of the white buffalo gaze at your every move, eyes that peer into your soul, seeing inner cores of all that enter. Whispers are heard, as wild animals surround the white buffalo, ones that hear missed breathes, will the feline pounce? A structure from the outside, stout stone walls trimmed with dark grains of wood, an eye captivating castle within. Enter all, step forward to a warm greeting, leaving the brisk winter chills behind. The white buffalo watches. Step to the right or the left, tip toing down steps to the dungeon of desires, desires mixed with spirits hidden behind glass, rooms a plenty to hide and sweat, will you be tortured, or will you torture yourself? This dungeon has echoes of the hoofs, will behold a speakeasy, hidden behind secure doors. Will you venture here, to the chamber, below the castle, surrounded by dark mountain chills, in a state, a state of delight, as the white buffalo’s spirit looms in the shadows?
Jackson Hole, Wyoming, the Grand Tetons, a plethora of wild animals, Yellowstone Park, the wild destination of the wild west, and in the heartbeat of all of this, beats the White Buffalo Club. Simply put, a must to visit, whether to stay, to delightfully dine, to sing at the grand piano, play king and queen, comfy in front of the stone fireplace, marvel at the artwork adorning the hallway walls, torture yourself in the dungeon gym, or to enjoy a soft yoga class. Yes, MauiSkiBus can now add a yoga experience in a studio that is in the dungeon of the White Buffalo Club. Any tortured prisoner from medieval times, would relish moments here, the class, the design, the luxury that abounds throughout the castle of the buffalo of white.
The keepers of the white buffalo’s castle, observant of the royal guests, greet with smiles, have the knowledge to share, as it is rumored that they themselves, have seen, in the shadows, the shadow of the white buffalo, that elusive medieval beast, the one that sees, that roams, that lives, here in the valley of Jackson. A princess name, yes, from those times, Ainslie, twisted and turned the spine, of a tropical ski bum. Yoga in a dungeon torture chamber? You be the judge, as once the breath of the white buffalo descends into your stretched out core, you will return for more.
Four Princesses
Three Princes
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