Aspen to Wyoming - Do we need our passports

Aspen was fun and relaxing. I even finally started to adjust to the altitude and stopped gasping so much as I walked down the street. Yoga on the mountain top was fun and the hike at 11,000 ft (that's right -more than 2 miles folks) was exhilarating and exhausting. If I ever figure out the camera thing, you will get photos.

The last evening in Aspen, we thought we would rest and pack for our upcoming road trip. However, we ran into some friends of Lorraine's at the restaurant and ended up talking the night away. Nonetheless, we were up and ready to go early the next morning. It was to be a 9 hour journey that turned into 11 but what a journey.

Off we went. First stop, the kennel to drop Sydney for her stay while we were gone. Then we headed off to Starbuck's for a pick me up and, at last, were on the road for real. I was reading the map and navigating - as well as looking out the window and taking photos - while Lorraine had the chore of motoring our vehicle.

Up and over the Continental Divide we went, past Vail, Denver and some Ft (Collins?). The scenery was incredible and the day a beautiful sunny blue. We finally hit the border at Colorado/Wyoming and suddenly were in another country. The land stretched out for miles around us. We stopped in Cheyenne, the state capital, for lunch. A small town for a state capital. We found a little hole-in-the-wall diner where we could get a sufficiently greasy burger, fries and iced tea. The waitress didn't have the perfect teeth, body or botoxed face that we have all become so accustomed to seeing. None-the-less, she smiled her crooked toothed grin and was one of the most helpful and happy people I have ever met.

After lunch, we walked around a little looking at the historical old buildings and then headed off on our journey. More flat prairie lands. I really, really wanted to see a cowboy. We were in Wyoming after all. But, alas, no cowboys to be seen. No one to be seen except all of the truckers and other folks passing through on the interstate. We passed Chugwalla - home to the famous Chugwalla Chili - or so the billboard said. On our return journey, we tried to get us some of that chili but there was none to be found. Apparently the billboard led to nowhere. We found Chugwalla but no Chili!

On and on, through small town after small town. The smallest was a town called Lost Springs - Population 1. I do not kid you. It was 1 as in one as in 1 yes 1! It had a church and a house. We tried to imagine what it would be like to live in a town of 1. Do you have to confess sins to yourself in church? If you die, who crosses out the one and writes zero on the sign? The next sign of houses or civilization was 30 miles away at 3 Sisters Truck Stop.

We stopped for gas and, sure enough, there were 3 women inside manning (womanning?) the store, soda shop and restaurant. I asked if they were the 3 Sisters and they said no but that there really were 3 sisters (in a state made up primarily of men, they must have been popular). However, the 3 sisters no longer owned 3 Sisters Truck Stop. They had sold it. I asked to who and they didn't know. Jokingly I said, "to 1Brother?"They laughed and said that was probably right. The truck stop was one of those you only see in old movies. Dusty, one type of gas at one pump, the wind blowing and you could imagine tumbleweeds. Needless to say, it was not a place we wanted to stay for long.


The next town was a bit bigger - maybe 700+ residents. Thoughts of inbreeding passed through my mind. How else did these folks ever get married? There just weren't many people around.

And back to the passport thing..... When we got into Cheyenne, there were signs that kept saying Port Authority. And check in at Port Authority. We never did discover why.

At last, we crossed over into South Dakota and that is the next chapter.