We are now in Wyoming. I never thought that we’d make it this far. Dream of something and it comes to be. The trick is to also get your partner to have and believe in the same dream. This trip would not have been possible had Pete not also thought that this trip was a good idea.

Today was a long drive – we stuck to the main drag, I-84, which has lots of noisy traffic, and by the roadside, lots of feedlots, small ranches, and unkept farms with one-two cows in the yard. There are also numerous wind turbines, the blades moving slowly in the near non-existent breeze.

I finally succumbed to the torpor of a long drive – I dozed, read some, and listened to Johnny Cash sing to the Folsom Prison inmates. All the songs were prison songs.

We again had internet access, not such a good thing. I found out that we did very poorly at agility this past month – I finally figured out that I’d done the wrong courses; hence, we lost a lot of points. Oh well, as I have learned in the past few days, what the horses have learned in the Playground of Higher Learning has served them well on recent trail rides.

We finally arrived in Kemmerer, a small but somewhat prosperous town. We pulled to a stop in front of a plant nursery and were given directions to the nearby rodeo grounds. This time we were early, it was 4 p.m. I cheered when I saw that the gate was open and that the pens appeared to be clean. We walked over to a metal barn with the 4-H logo on the top – a young woman appeared and when we asked, she said that we could put the horses in any of the available pens. I asked further if we could put the horses in the round pen for the night. She said sure. I then asked if we could let them run around for a bit in the arena, and she again said sure. She didn’t indicate that we had to pay any fees.

I was feeling very grateful about the horsey accommodations because the horses had had another long day in the aluminum box.

We unloaded the horses, and then Pete went to town to get pizza and do some grocery shopping. After he got back he said that the pizza guy had burned our first pizza and was going to deliver a second. The one that arrived had the best toppings ever – it was called the Cousteau and had oysters and shrimp and pesto and artichokes. As I ate it, I thought I’d gone to heaven. I no longer say died and went to heaven because I’ve decided that the direct route works best.

There was some truck and car traffic, but it was not too bad. I was just feeling good about having a place for the horses to spend the night. I asked Pete if he thought they were grateful for the care they’re being given and he said yes.

Odd, how first impressions of a town are favorable or unfavorable. Those who stop to inquire about accommodations should keep this in mind when attempting to drum up business.

Tomorrow we will arrive in Cheyenne, Wyoming. This will be our last day of travel before we embark on our longer trail rides. The horses are so ready for this.

Next: 154.6/5/19: The Days are Flying By