Wyoming Photos

As I mentioned Tuesday night, we took a scenic route through parts of Wyoming. US Highway 287, and State Routes 28 and 30 were intertwined with several of the major migration routes of the 1800s. The Mormons hand carts, numerous covered wagon trains, and the Pony Express crossed or followed the path these roads take today.

It's easy to imagine what it must have been like to be involved with one of those enterprises as there are still wide open spaces along that route today. The Pony Express had way stations about 15 miles apart and from some points you can certainly see where the next station would have been located from the hills and rock outcrops behind or above another. The wagon trains would make between 10 and 20 miles in a day. They could easily see mountain ranges three times or more further away than that.

One of the guide posts for travelers on the Oregon Trail (and later the Pony Express) was Split Rock. Seen from miles away, it was as useful as a lighthouse on the sea in guiding migrants to a turning point on their trek across the continent. Later, one of the way stations for the Pony Express occupied a position at the base of the stone spire.

The view from Split Rock.

One thing that is impressive in Wyoming is their snow fence. Other places use wooden lathe or plastic fencing but Wyoming appears to use stadium bleachers. Constructed out of serious lumber (two-by frame with one-by slats) these "bleachers" run for miles and miles along the roadways in an effort to stop snow from drifting in the highways. They seem to work quite well, too. Some still had accumulated snow over three feet deep on their downwind sides.

Serious snow fence.

We drove through one or more towns that were listed as "ghost towns" on our maps and several others that might have been the setting for the original Tremors movie. Wide open spaces are certainly abundant. I worried a little when Terry said something about being able to dump a body a few yards off the road and never have to worry about anyone finding it. That comment made me drive a bit faster.

You often hear jokes about how small a town is due to it's haveing to rent a stop light for when the annual car comes through. How about when there's a stop light but no town? A construction work site in the middle of nowhere resulted in our sitting at a stop light miles from the nearest intersection and, seemingly, from the nearest human activity.

Stop light in Nowhere, WY.

Of course I stopped--and waited. It would be just my luck to pull up over that ridge you see and find the local equivalent of Barney Fife waiting with pen in hand and ticket book open.