The sky is severe clear, the wind is at our back, I-80 and chosen side roads are smooth and empty of traffic. As we effortlessly roll up and down the hills and around gentlle curves, we concluded that our task was to sit back, relax and enjoy viewing the natural beauty of the open range, grazing cattle and prong horn elk, tiny villages with no speed restrictions ... and the warm breeze flowing through the windows. Serenity while driving our "house" across the high plains? Simply, "yes".
From Medicine Bow, we drove Wyoming highway 487 and 220 north to Casper, known for the nearby riches of oil and gas. The highways are known as The Sand Creek Massacre Trail. I'll let you Google the name for it refers to a most unpleasant part of our history of overtaking this country from the natives.
East of Casper is Douglas. Home to the Wyoming State Fair, we had the fun of viewing sheep shearing, prize bales of hay, weighing up to 1,840 lbs. And to think that when I was a preteen/teenager, I tossed them over my head onto the hay wagon!
Hmmm, maybe mine were the 75 lb version.
And then there was the wild horse show, by itself, worth the stop. Teenage girls brought their wild horses into the ring and showed us how trained these wild, range running beasts had become. Side-stepping, jumping, reversing, galloping, suddenly stopping to get the mail from a road side mailbox, having a heavy yellow slicker swung over and around their head ... all without flinching. These beautiful animals have been rounded up by the Bureau of Land Management to prevent over grazing. Instead of slaughtering them, the various BLM districts have professional trainers (also demo'ing for us) partially train the horses before auctions, such as the one following the girls' show). Minimum bid: $125. We spoke to one of the girls who's family has three. Petting her horse and watching him relax after the show gave us a special pleasure, knowing that his fate was in loving hands.
Writing of young girls reminds me of another heartwarming incident; actually several incidents of youthful good manners. Entering the shuttle wagon drawn behind the omnipresent John Deere farm tractor, no seats were available. Immediately, two teen girls offered theirs. This occurred again when we were waiting for a ride in the 94 degree sun. Our response? "No thank you, but thank you for your politeness." Wouldn't be wonderful if our mutual smiles were replicated throughout our country?
An hour east of Douglas on US 18 is Lusk, WY. A pretty village with an Elks Lodge for our overnight parking gave us a most friendly and enjoyable last night in Wyoming. Immediately welcomed by members and relatives (and EVERYONE is a relative!), we shared stories, the area's history, food and drink. Dinner was not officially being served, but food came in, Doris made a steak salad and all of us had a great time. Housed in a former school house, the Lodge gave us a feeling of being in a home with dear friends. Jim & Sheila, having toured the US for four solid years, moved back to Lusk for a good reason: It's an especially warm and friendly town. Sheila, like our GPS that we long ago named Sheila, doesn't do directions well, but like everyone else in Lusk, we sure will fondly remember how to get back here. Thanks "Luskers"!
