Wyoming
Cowboy Dave’s Spurs
His spurs don’t match and the rowels are gone and his boots are busted but he’s living life on his own terms. Tomorrow, Sunday morning, I’ll introduce you to the rest of the man: Cowboy Dave.
Seeking Mystery Dog Food Donor
The lady’s voice on my voicemail said (and I paraphrase):
“Hi Bernie. This is Debbie at the Central Wyoming Fairgrounds in Casper. We received a bag of dog food in your name. What would you like us to do with it?”
Fantastic! People are so generous out here. There’s only one problem with this well-intended gift.
I don’t own a dog.
To the mystery donor I… Continue reading
Off the Mountain Before the Storm
Mules Brick and Cracker and I have crossed McDougal Gap and arrived in Alpine, Wyoming. The timing is perfect for getting off the mountain. Rain and snow at higher elevations are forecast for the next 4 days.
Right now the mules and I are settling in to Alpine. We’re camped… Continue reading
166 Days, 2000 Miles, One Plastic Binder
Most evenings after the mules are staked out for the night and my tent is pitched, I dig out my journal and write down how far we’ve come.
I don’t write in a leather bound journal you might imagine Wild Bill communing with after a busy day shooting buffalo. No, my journal’s just a plastic binder filled with 50 sheets of loose leaf paper.
I think I brought 40 sheets too many.… Continue reading
Rescuing a Grasshopper From a Wyoming Stock Tank
If you don’t have time to rescue a grasshopper from drowning, you’re moving too fast.
Some days I travel too fast. This particular day, when I saw the grasshopper stranded on the stock tank drain, I rendered assistance. I’m cheered to know she’s back out on the eastern Wyoming desert among the hot wind and dry grass.
Winter will halt her song soon enough. It’s a better way to go than drowning in the desert.
More… Continue reading
Your Mule Is at Isabel’s House
Last night I was sitting in the Split Rock Bar and Cafe celebrating my arrival in a busted uranium town when a man walks in and says, “your mule is over at Isabel’s house.” Isabel owns the bar.
I put down my beer.
Oh.
So I climb in to the man’s car and he drives me out in to the night and we go down a long driveway and… Continue reading
Camper Fantasy Musings
I saw this camper and knew that if I took it home and fixed it up I could drive it back in time to when someone lived in that abandoned stucco house in Shawnee, Wyoming. Actually, I yearned to drive it farther back in time than that.
After I fixed it up, that camper would take me all the way back to when the days moved slowly and I wanted to chop out great big chunks… Continue reading
Windmill Water: Crossing Wyoming’s High Desert With Two Mules
The mules and I are riding deeper and deeper in to the eastern Wyoming desert. Creeks, ponds and lakes, reliable watering sources to the east, have vanished. Increasingly we are relying on windmills for water.
Across the Dry Land
Every day, mules Brick and Cracker drink 5 to 10 gallons of water apiece. I get by on less than a gallon. Until now, we’ve traveled from town to town. Mornings, I fill my jugs… Continue reading
Wyoming Welcome
Greetings from area code 307, aka Wyoming. The state has so few people (less than 600k), it only needs one area code. This week, the state of “Equal Rights” made room for one traveling man and 2 mules.
Mules Cracker and Brick and I are taking a few days off in Douglas to catch our breathes. In the past two weeks, they’ve walked 225 miles from Hyannis, Nebraska… Continue reading
