By now, I’ve made my way well into Wyoming after a longer than expected respite in Fort Collins to visit an old friend. It’s been a cold, wet day, and it’s beautiful. This is the first stormy day of the adventure, and it’s a welcome change of pace, although the dogs don’t appreciate it as much as I do. So, here I am, no internet, but dry and warm with plenty of supplies to sit and wait out the storm without anything to tell me how long it’s going to last. I watched an incredible documentary this morning called Faces Places about French photographers who tour the countryside, highlighting the townspeople through their portraits pasted to the sides of their homes or old, sometimes abandoned, crumbling buildings. It was a unique way to tell the story of a town through its people on display for the world to see. Even if you don’t know the people in the portraits, they weren’t famous before the photographs and don’t always like the attention, there’s always an intriguing human story behind them.

Surprisingly, the hardest part of my journey has been deciding what to do with each day to make the best of my time out here in these incredible locations. Some spots have been challenging to get to, due to the limitations of Skippy, so I see every camping spot as a gift that I celebrate, just take in my surroundings for a bit, maybe listen to some stories on my phone, or sit in my trusty camp chair and read. The hours and days have been passing so quickly that I have to constantly remind myself to take some pictures and write something down about every place I go. I set a goal to create something, anything, at each spot to remember it by, and so far I’ve been fairly successful, except for the Smoky Skeeter spot on the lake. Even there I managed to take some sweet pictures of the smoke and the stars. It’s funny how even the worst camp spots can yield something sweet. I haven’t painted or drawn as much as I would like to, but it’s a strange mood I have to be in and big commitment required for me to sit for hours that day with a pencil and paper. I love doing it once I get out my pencil and watercolor kits, but there’s always some excuse not to.

I’ve been in Wyoming for only three nights so far, and I’ve already made some decent progress. I’m currently in Lander Wyoming, and it has been some tough driving with the wind through these plains. The camping spots are few and far between in Southern Wyoming, and there was a large fire burning on the Colorado – Wyoming border. The spot that I’m at now is amazing, I have my private little cove surrounded by thick, heavily wooded forest. It’s called the Loop Road on Highway 131, and it leads to a ghost town called South Pass City that I may have to check out before I leave. This has to be the largest stretch of free camping that I’ve come across yet, and the weekend was busy, but I have an endless forest behind my little cove and the dogs get to roam free. Currently, both dogs are sleeping out the storm burrowed in their blankets. We had a little doe visitor yesterday, right outside my window, and it was the first time this trip that I’ve been able to check out some wildlife without some dogs ruining it. I guess if I were a dog, I wouldn’t want to pass up the chance to chase a deer through the forest either.

I’m finally settling into the life on the road after a month, but the planning is a little overwhelming at times. I’m greedy and try to get the best weather at the most beautiful, and free, locations, with planned stops for supplies in between. I also have to make all of my plans around the weekend, due to all the increased traffic. I’ve been successful at staking my claim to a campsite on a Thursday or Friday and wait out the weekends. The stress of being alone where anything can happen also weighs on my mind at times. It mostly sets in when I’m on an isolated trail, and take slip on a wet rock, or my ankle slides out from under me, with no people or cell phone service nearby. These dogs are cool and all, but they’re no Lassies.