It’s a long five hour drive from my hometown to the dot on the map town of Saratoga, Wyoming.
I’ve been making this journey every few months for the last year and a half. The endless minutes tick away as the wheels turn repetitively on the asphalt.
I’ve run out of thoughts.
The town itself has a population of 1690, elevation at almost 7,000 feet. The only sound on the radio is from the town’s local DJ. He cracks up the monotomy with this little jewel…
“Wyoming. Where you get nine months of winter, and three months of tough sledding.”
I laugh and think about laying on the puffy clouds that pass over the open spaces.
I fade into the happy trails of the open West.
