My last week in Wyoming

Red Reflet Ranch Flight Strip, Ten Sleep, Wyoming

I spent my last week in Wyoming visiting friends in Ten Sleep.  I visited the HF Bar Ranch, the ranch I worked at last summer:  I caught up with tons of people from different generations of the HF and slept in the hay barn, as every room on the ranch was taken.  Saturday morning I stopped by the Johnson County Fairgrounds where my good friend, Kenny, was serving as the rodeo clown for the Wrangler Junior Rodeo.  We were saying goodbye outside of Dan's Diner in Buffalo, when a big white truck with a wily cowboy cruised by and he yelled out the window "Hey, nice boots!"  Kenny and I looked at eachother, stunned and wondering if this was directed at us; "No, really, nice boots!"  The cowboy bellowed again, his neck craning out the window.  We laughed and looked down at my boots, a new pair from a recent trip to Sheridan; my first pair on non-work boots, which around Wyoming is to say "fancy boots."   I then headed from Buffalo over to Ten Sleep.  The drive over the Bighorns was surprising, and despite the great amount of time I have spent in this region, it continues to amaze me.  Snow covered each peak on the range, deep clouds and a harsh chill hung in the air.  I drove with the window only slightly cracked; Fall certainly was in the air.

Upon arriving in Ten Sleep I visited and crashed with Sarah, and met and caught up with various people around town.  My friend, Johnny, offered to install a stereo in my truck, so on my way from Buffalo I had picked one up and we headed down to the flight strip outside of town where he and his dad work.  Driving through the gates that open up to the flight strip was intimidating...I kept thinking "Somehow this must be against the rules."  I pulled the truck into the hanger and took a look around:  a fifty foot glider was positioned in the building, precariously tucked between tools and the empty space where another plane is kept, but which Johnny's dad was flying that afternoon.

Fifty foot wing span on this glider, Johnny flies it up high, cuts the engine, and climbs the thermals.

Taking the dash of the truck apart.

The Hanger, and all the toys that it holds.

Johnny did a seriously professional install of the stereo; I attempted to help, often jimmying the various plastic pieces that make up the dash of the truck, or holding something in place while he screwed it back on.  Our deal was that since he was graciously doing me a huge favor, it would only be right that I would buy him beer that night.  We headed back to town and grabbed a beer for him at the saloon, took a seat outside and watched the trucks and people come by.  This weekend in Ten Sleep was the annual Bluegrass music festival, Nowoodstock, aptly named for the Nowood Creek which runs through town, so it was packed with eager music lovers as well as bikers heading back West from the Sturgis South Dakota Bike Rally.  

No sooner had we sat and started chatting with friends, I hear in a big voice yell out "Hey y'all, it's the girl with them fancy boots!"  Yes!  It was the wily cowboy from back in Buffalo.  He sauntered up to me with two of his buddies, they were all in their fifties I believe, which I think makes the rowdiness not insulting, but kind of endearing.  We joked and laughed, and when I got up to leave he asked for a kiss on the cheek, I told him no and jokingly followed with the remark that he'd need to work for it-my mistake.  He got on one knee and began shining my boot and kissing the top of it.  It was hilarious, ridiculous and so much fun.

I had the cat with me too this whole time.  I had found him a collar at the feed store in Lander and came across some old baling twine on the ranch, which allowed me to fashion him a nice leash.  He spent one night in town sleeping on the bench at the saloon, among bikers, Sarah and me, some Italian travelers and old cowboys.  He slept right through all the socializing and merriment.  I disliked the idea of keeping him on the leash, so I turned him loose and set out food and water, and soon enough he understood that wherever I parked the truck was home. It was so funny to be walking through town and someone would call out "Hey, Michelle, I just saw your cat over at the Bighorn Bar,"  or "Hey, he's over there in the dining room at Gayle's."  He loved it there, and received so much affection from everyone. 


I spent the next few days hanging around town with friends and swimming in the creek.  It was a wonderful time spent winding down my last few days in the place I love most, but when Maverick returned on Sunday, I knew my time was up.  It was a good sign to get on the road, as he can disappear for a day or two wandering around Ten Sleep.  We hit the road and pointed the truck toward Montana, it was bittersweet, and I am already counting the months til' I can return.