Wyoming

This was a day of contrasts. Winter to Fall. Hills to flat land. South Dakota to Wyoming. We scraped a couple inches of snow from the windows and left Rapid City. Snow flurries threatened some of the way but became a threat and finally gave way to the upper fifties and wind.

So far, each time we’ve crossed a state line, there’s been a noticible difference in some way. This time we left the beauty of the Black Hills and crossed into Wyoming the hills diminished and gave way to flat grazing land. Becky said we really were the “Big Sky”. That doesn’t make since to me and I can see no reason why it would be true but it was. Maybe it’s the unobstructed view that just goes on and on. There just aren’t many buildings. We would drive ten to fifteen miles between houses and each one had a mailbox. Just imagine the mail delivery problem. Whoever carries that mail probably makes only ten to twelve stops a day—just toss a small pile on the front seat and take off. I also hope they didn’t use Verizon because most of the time it was “No service”.

The land is an interesting mixture. It's moslty scrubby looking grass and sagebrush. But it's interrupted by rock outcroppings that look like the limestone coated granite we saw so often in South Dakota. More often than not, the outcroppings looked like they were trying to form buttes but always failed in some way. Some were short but may rose to hundreds of feet.

Strangely, the fences on both sides of the road were set back about 100 feet. Boy that’s a lot of ungrazed grass. And the fence lines were about five to ten miles apart. We would drive for miles and not see buildings or cars, just grazing cattle, fences and windmills to fill the water troughs. It looks like they load right from the fields. No grain farming or storage. Just put them in the field, let them graze and then load them for market. It was so vast I couldn’t see how they kept from losing some of the cattle—maybe they do.

It makes you think about what these people do for a quick burger or groceries or when something breaks down. Some of them are fifty miles from the nearest anything. Takes some planning.

One ominous indication of the possibly tough winters are the warnings issued whenever leaving a town. In all directions there’s a sign that says: “Road closed when flashing. Return to xxxx city. Otherwise yyy days in jail and $zzzz fine with be imposed”. Immediately following the signs are railroad crossing type drop down gates. It’s a scary sight.

On the west side of the road we used was many miles of substantial snow fence. These were big. They looked about eight to ten feet tall and made with triangular supports the allowed the fence to lean to the east. They were driven into the ground but, rather, just sat on the bottom of the triangles.

We thought we started seeing the tops of the closest of the Rockies about thirty miles north of Cheyenne. Sure enough as we got closer they were becoming obvious. What a beautiful sight to see them through the haze of the many miles. And you could dimly see even more distant peaks. I keep thinking of those long ago people traveling this land by horse. Where they bewildered by how vast and gargantuan everything was. How did they find food and water and shelter? This is the most fascinating trip I’ve ever taken.

We’ll be in Cheyenne Wyoming tonight.