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Published: July 14th 2013
The hills of Wyoming
can sometimes look like big mounds of guacamoleIt's a relief to enter Wyoming, you can feel the heavy cloak of civilization sliding off your back. It's not as though no one lives in Wyoming, but at 500,000 in 97,000 square miles, they are hardly weighing it down. As Gov. Lester C. Hunt observed on the 50th anniversary of statehood (quoted in a poster at the visitor center), "Times will change, but the character of Wyoming will never change. There will always be the brightness of her sunshine, the purity of her air, the music of her winds, the grandeur of her mountains, the inspiration of her forests, and the peace and security of her wide open spaces."
We drove from one end of Wyoming to the other, and the views were always vast but constantly changing, somehow at once dramatic and soothing. This raised a conversation about which is the most consistently scenic state. We nominated Maine, Vermont, New York, Wyoming, and Hawaii. And that prompted a discussion of the least scenic state -- the nominees were Illinois, Iowa, Kansas, Ohio, and Delaware.
Many other questions were raised as the miles unfolded, and due to the lack of cell service, they couldn't be answered.
A quick break
from driving through a whole lot of nothing Why is grain stored in silos? What is the adjective for having to do with lakes? What is the interval between the A- and the -mer in America the Beautiful? And as we explored the forested slopes of Yellowstone, a Fermi question arose -- how many trees are in Yellowstone Park? We decided it had to be in the billions.
When we reached the Continental Divide, we got out to admire the view, and we met a couple who had bicycled up from the other side. They were on a two-month cycling tour from Colorado to the Pacific Northwest, crossing the Cascades and the Rockies twice. We were to see quiet a few of these long-distance cyclists, camping gear loaded onto their bikes, pedaling up the long, steep grades. It was enough to renew your faith in America, even if half of them were German.
A hike of about 3 miles takes you to the Lone Star Geyser, which has been erupting every 3 hours for ages unknown. Near the geyser sits a stand holding a logbook in which passersby can record the time of any eruption that they witness. The front page of
Time to get schooled
on the winds of Wyoming the book states in bright magic marker, "This is a logbook. It is not a journal. Please do not share your feelings or poetry. Just record the time and duration of the eruption." Needless to say, the book is thick with poems, doodles, and gushings that would do a geyser proud. Nostalgia can be deceptive, but you have to believe that a hundred years ago, if you asked people to record the date and the time, they recorded the date and the time.
One thing that strikes you as you drive the secondary roads of America is just how moribund our small towns are. It's just one husk after another. With the exception of a few posh resort towns, every thriving small town is really a suburb, feeding off the economy of a not-too-distant city. The idea that improved transportation and communication would make small-town life more alluring hasn't panned out.
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D MJ Binkley
Dave and Merry Jo Binkley
The music of her winds
We lived in Cheyenne for a short time a few years ago and enjoyed the winds, the people and the amazing country side.