Day 2

Went for a run this morning in Cheyenne. There are a number of different parks around the city that were easy enough to find, no thanks to the hotel front desk. I think the last time she left the hotel was to score some meth. Lions park has a little pond in the middle, surrounded by a path about a mile around it. There’s a botanical garden, kids parks, even a ‘fitness trail’ for people to follow. Quite civilized.

I almost had an interesting story for everyone. Almost. When filling up in Douglas, WY I checked my oil (yes daddy I am a responsible adult) and according to my dipstick, I was out of oil. Strange since I just had the oil changed. I added a quart of oil and noticed that there was a puddle forming under my car, something dripping from a place that I thought things shouldn’t drip. I panicked. Compared to Sidney, NE, where I last had a car blow up on me, Douglas, WY is, well, nowhere. I got directions to the closest service station that was open—apparently everywhere in Wyoming closes between 12-1 for lunch. Where are we, Spain? The guy at the service center was incredibly accommodating and found someone to check the car. Turns out there was just a small leak in the oil pan which they fixed in 20 minutes. The whole thing took an hour, but I was back on the road with no further incident.

Except that I lost phone service and had absolutely no radio stations other than the pilgrim (Christian) station for a good 3 hours of the drive through middle of bumblefuck Wyoming.

I visited Mt. Rushmore this afternoon just ahead of a huge thunder/hail storm. I was impressed by the fact that someone actually carved the whole thing. Not only is it huge, but the rock is also hundreds of feet up. Crazy. Otherwise it wasn’t as breathtaking as I would have thought. Way too touristy. Lots of, well, stereotypical Americans and their broods of children. Not as many Asian tourists as I expected.

A thought that crossed my mind while driving through eastern Wyoming: what brings people out here? Why, why, why? It’s green for several months a year but the rest of the time it’s either ridiculously hot and dry, or bitterly cold, windy, and snowy. And while I’m no city bug, don’t people want to be closer than 50 miles from the closest grocery store? One of the gas station attendants had just moved to middle of nowhere from Ohio. I don’t get it.