The Cowboy State

We left Circle early Sunday morning and headed for Billings. Although we were ultimately headed for Wyoming, we needed to swing through Billings to take care of a few errands. Driving west towards the city, we suddenly left the open plains and became surrounded by trees. Oh how fine a sight those trees were. Still sparse in their concentration, the sight of more than a handful of trees was a sight for sore eyes. I never thought I would say this, but compared with some of the scenery I've been used to the past month, Billings is beautiful. There are hills and trees and multiple story buildings. There are busy traffic intersections, multiple options for shopping and food, and over 100,000 people! While in Circle we heard several times about the huge metropolis of Billings and it's horrible traffic and constant go-go-go. We both had to chuckle at the idea of Billings as the "big city," but it's about as big as it gets between Spokane, Minneapolis, and Denver.

We continued on to the Cowboy State and I enjoyed so much of the drive. There is so much expanse to Wyoming. Vistas carry on for miles. I guess this was true in Montana, but it was different once we crossed the state line. As we winded our way past ridges and coulees, the occasional cow would appear climbing through the ravines. Often solitary or with a small herd, I imagined these cows to be the last of the wild bovine. They stood out, dominating the landscape, the noblest creature of the increasingly dusky land. Each herd reigning over a vast kingdom where humans never dare to tread. I came to realize that large portions of this boundless country are ruled by cattle and I am merely one of their loyal subjects.

We drove on into the twilight, my favorite time of day for driving. Just after the sun sets, the moving world of the traveler becomes magical. Driving east we hurtled ourselves into the night, slowly being embraced by the darkness, the quiet, the intimacy. I remember all of the times driving to and from college during this part of the day. Westward you chase the sunset, having the privilege to watch God's spectacular artistry for a few moments longer. But there is a warmth to the eastern darkness, a feeling of bedding down for a long night.

I listened to a couple episodes of "The Splendid Table," a radio show all about food, and marveled at the range of topics dealt with in the show. While everything revolves around our gastric interests, there is wonderful discussions of literary, artistic, and scientific natures. What struck me the most was how much food defines us as a people. Food can be so specific to a region or a way of life and is a wonderful gateway to explore them. One of the perks of my job that is not obvious to most is the many opportunities to eat. Eating in local diners, eating local specialties, and eating with others. I never imagined that food would be such an effective tool to experience the places I travel to, but it has been.

We turned mile after mile and came closer to our destination. Trees have been absent from the horizon for a couple of hours and ahead there is a broad swath of green so dark it appears black against the golden brown around it. Just before delving into the thin pine forest, there is a tree lit up like a flame just off of the road. The orange and yellow of its leaves transform it into a torch at the gates, a herald of the arboreal army ahead. We plunge into the forests and begin to wind through hills rising closely beside the road. I cannot tell you the relief I felt when I suddenly couldn't see around the next bend. The closed-in, blanketed feeling provided by the new landscape was such a comfort to me that it caught me off guard. I never knew how much a few trees and hills meant to me, how much they shaped how I relate to my environment.

It is cold. We pulled into Sundance. Muscular hills rise on both sides, covered in a spattering of pine, with clouds hanging low above. We drove to our homestays up a small winding road through a small canyon, leaves dusting the way. This is refreshment. This is comfort. This is beautiful.