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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…

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“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.

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