Corbet’s Cabin: the Waffle House at the Top of the World

Dec 6

**Corbet’s Cabin in Jackson, Wyoming. Ski parking outside.** *Photos by Kevin Gibson*

More than 10,000 feet up, atop Rendezvous Mountain in Jackson, Wyoming, is probably one of the best waffle places in America. Corbet’s Cabin, however, is not as easy to get to as, say, Wild Eggs.

It’s billed as “Top of the World Waffles” for a reason – because you have to ride a tram into the sky, over mountain ranges and skiers to get your hands on one of those hand-held waffles. And if you work at the tiny restaurant, which is about the size of a one-bedroom apartment, you’d better be an expert-level skier – because if the tram breaks down, you have only one way back down the mountain.

The restaurant, which started serving waffles in 2009, was originally built in the early 1960s as a temporary storage building during construction of the tram, according to tour guide Andrew Way. The intention, once the tram was up and running, was for the building to be demolished. Instead, it came to be used for a variety of uses, and serves as sort of a stop-off for staff as well as a chic destination for skiers and tourists. In fact, Way said, at least one employee of Jackson Hole Mountain Resort spends the night there every night.

Named for Barry Corbet, a man who came to Jackson Hole and became one of the area’s most accomplished ski and climbing guides, Corbet’s Cabin is open each year from December through April, and the snowfall on the mountain is so plentiful that there have been times the small restaurant is buried completely.

On the afternoon when I rode the tram up the mountain to experience Corbet’s Cabin, the snow had been falling for nearly 24 hours, with more than 20 inches of accumulation. During the sometimes bumpy ride up on Big Red, the tram, I kept imagining a mini ski lodge at the top of the mountain, with happy skiers sipping coffee and hot chocolate before descending the mountain.

Instead, as we reached the top after the 12 or so minute ride, I saw what looked like a shanty, half covered in snow, with random, multi-colored skis mounted to an exterior wall.

“That?” I thought to myself. But when my group stepped off the tram, and the snow and cold hit me like a frigid sand blaster, I was all too happy to shuffle my way to the door for the warmth that awaited. The ground temperature at the time was around 11 degrees; on that mountain, I bet it was minus-25.

The cabin itself is pretty much exactly what you’d expect from the world’s tiniest ski resort restaurant: Wood everything, skiing paraphernalia and photos, a handful of tables and chairs for limited seating, a small countertop, some coolers with soft drinks and beer, and a waffle iron. The skis mounted to the outside of the building are memories of regulars on the mountain, some of whom have passed away.

As part of a tour group with Wyoming Whiskey, we paired Double Cask bourbon with a series of waffles from the small menu that features five waffles to choose from. They are served sandwich-style, with fillings between two warm waffles – no syrup or utensils necessary.

I was able to try the Trad, which was stuffed with brown sugar butter; The Italian, filled with Nutella; Strawberry, with strawberry preserves as the filling, and the signature Gateway, featuring peanut butter and bacon. (The one I was too full to sample was The Englishman, packed with lemon glaze and topped with whipped cream and powdered sugar.)

The Gateway is the obvious must-try – peanut butter and bacon pair beautifully together, adding a salty savoriness to the sweet-ish waffles. But close behind, for me was the Trad, which is positively decadent and bursting with buttery sweetness. Add to that friendly service and fun, appropriate décor –not to mention a mini-tram car hovering by the menu – and it’s 100% worth the ride up (even if, like me, you are terrified of heights). The tram ride is about $30, while waffles are $7.75 each.

Unfortunately, you may want to go sooner rather than later – plans are in place to demolish the building and replace it with a 180-seat restaurant. Ironically, that’s what I expected in the first place, but if I ever ascend that mountain again and Corbet’s Cabin isn’t there to greet me, I’ll be highly disappointed.