Wyoming is beautiful and the wind is fierce and might actually blow harder than in Oklahoma where the wind comes sweeping down the plain. It strong arms and wrestles the vehicles on the road; though the weird rock formations and the mountains give some sense of assurance and stability to the drive, it's still a fight.The place seems strangely familiar, but i've never been there except in my mind while reading Dee Brown's, Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee, which you know, if you've read it, is a story that breaks your heart.
The first glimpse of the Rocky Mountains standing on the Great Plains is the proverbial sight to see.
For a flatlander, their amazing majesty nods to that overall sense of being and existence: We Are Here! ~it's resounding.
In between the mountains in Colorado and the Wyoming terrain, I got a "pootorial" by my dear friend, Starletta Felcher, (not his real name ;-) who was so very gracious as to show me how to disembowel a vehicle of waste matter and dump such into the sewage. Important stuff. Thank you, Starletta! I love you!
Which made me think of a time some years ago, when a good college buddy and I used to go rock climbing out in the Wichita Mountains in Southwestern Oklahoma, near Lawton. (i'm told that the Wichitas are some of the oldest mountains in the country, they're just no longer all that tall like the Rockies.) On one particularly hot day out there, we stopped to cool off in a rest area and sat down at some running water that was rising up out of a well-like-thingy on the ground. We had taken our shoes and socks off and were splashing ourselves with this cool water, which seemed refreshing, when at the same time, scrunching our noses up and looking at each other because something was sure smelling stinky, we hear a good ol' boy who had been standing there watching us this whole time, yell out, "you girls is bathing in the septic tank where RVs dump their shit!"
In retrospect, i should have kept the mountain of sewage for some weight on the trek across Wyoming....