Wyoming is a big, freaking, windy state. 490 miles in 8 hours and 10 minutes: how’s that for a cattle drive? Yee-haw! Man, am I saddle sore! Since I don’t have any relations in nearby states, I’m no longer accustomed to long car trips or crossing state lines in anything smaller than a DC-9. Now that we have friends back in Salt Lake City, I imagine I’ll be saddling up and riding out to visit the Double G Ranch again before too long. (Thanks, friends!)
Desperate times call for desperate measures, and as you might imagine, there are not a lot of culinary options while traveling I-80. I bought a McDonald’s “Happy Meal,” because I figured that less bad food was better than an adult-sized portion of bad food. My traveling companion. who also had a Happy Meal, wanly regarded a Chicken McNugget and announced, “I’m not loving this food.” We agreed that they should be called “Miserable Meals,” although the Littlest Pet Shop toy inside provided some entertainment.
Fratguy and I joke about having four children and naming them after the major towns of Wyoming. Can’t you just picture it? “Cody, Casper, Cheyenne, Jackson–get in the truck!”
I don’t want you to think this post is just a rip on poor, old, dogforsaken Wyoming, though: there are some great things about the state, like the Territorial Prison historical site, and Little America, a rest stop out of the 1940s that offers everything from food and lodging to a mechanic on duty. It’s super-friendly and freakishly clean, too–so who’s complaining? And Wyoming bothers to tax energy companies for all of their extractions–which makes the University of Wyoming Cowboys the best-off public uni in the whole country, as far as I can tell. (At least, their library always has the latest of the latest books I’m looking for–and fortunately, they loan them out generously across state lines!)
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