What’s next? Why Wyoming, of course!

Devil’s Tower was a late addition to the trip after I realized we shouldn’t attempt a 5-hour drive from the Black Hills to the middle of Wyoming, especially considering we would be driving our first mountain leg without an easy place to stop if we had to. Devil’s Tower was near the route that I had originally planned, so we detoured a bit for one night and stayed at a KOA campground at the base of Devil’s Tower.

The Tower itself is remarkable in how it just pops up out of the arid and bland hill country that surrounds it. You can see it coming from a long way away, so it’s not like it jumps out at you. But the size and spectacle of it is so very odd. Also odd is the area around the Tower. It is a national monument, but unlike Mount Rushmore, there isn’t huge infrastructure built up around it (understandably). In fact, there is really nowhere to go and nothing else to see when you are there. Once you’re in the national monument area, you can drive to the base of the Tower and walk a short trail to get a little bit better view than the highway offers, but that’s about it. There is only the KOA and a gift shop in the “town” just outside the monument entrance, so unless you are staying at the KOA, you would be hard pressed to make the trip take more than an hour. Needless to say, I’m glad we only stayed one night.

We left Devil’s Tower and headed West toward the Big Horn Mountains. I was nervous for our first trip with serious elevation changes. Luckily, Alex was not nervous at all and guided our big rig with steady hands and reassuring leg pats, in sharp contrast to my sweaty palms and nervous silence. The Big Horns is the oldest mountain chain in the West and its rock formations were not unlike what we had just seen in the Black Hills – just more dramatic. Being in the mountains turned out to be the most beautiful and diverse part of the drive yet.

Once we left the mountains, within 20 minutes we were out in the immense Western prairie; parched and sandy, speckled with sage brush drying in the harsh sunshine. The mountains could not have felt farther away. Another 30 minutes through the flatlands and we landed in Greybull, Wyoming – our home for the next 5 days.

Uff dah, Greybull is not somewhere I would want to live. Don’t get me wrong, the people could not have been more friendly. We were stopped multiple times at the grocery store, the library and the museum (the only places we went), by offers to help us find something, comments about the girls’ hair, and by one lady who approached at the grocery store amidst a whining fit to reach out and touch Willa’s pouty face and gently speak to the girls in Spanish. “Pobrecita” she said. Hardly.

It was HOT in Greybull- 106 at one point! And there was very little to do. The combination of heat, lack of built-in activities, and the girls and I needing to be out of the RV while Alex worked, made for a challenging (strategic adjective) work week. Thank goodness for a shaded pool at the KOA – it saved us and set us up for twice daily swim sessions.

We took a mid-week Greybull break and drove about an hour to Cody, Wyoming – a booming metropolis in comparison, with much more going on than Greybull. We decided to stay overnight last minute in a super cute boutique hotel in downtown Cody. The hotel had a garden terrace with green grass (!!) and live music, which had Alex and I dreaming of the NEXT time we do this trip, when we lose the kids and gain the ability to fully enjoy such activities (and long hikes, and long drives, spontaneity, etc., etc.…). It’s going to be a while.

The rodeo was a HUGE hit. Sometimes we do something thinking “this is going to be so great, the kids are going to love this,” only to see six shoulders collapsing downward, spines curled forward, and chins raised high in annoyance as we reveal the next activity. Not this time. Some of the excitement was just for leaving Greybull and then more when the girls found out we were staying in a hotel. But the sight of the arena and the anticipation of seeing something for the first time had them squealing in delight.

It was 8pm by the time the rodeo started, but a little popcorn and cotton candy kept us all going through the various events and activities. Alex and I were shocked and intrigued when the announcer called all the kids down to chase around two calves and without hesitation Elsie jumped up, bounded down the steps and over the fence to take her place in the arena. Maybe she’s a cowgirl at heart? It was then that we realized there was no way we were going to get Elsie to leave peacefully until after the big bulls made an appearance. So, at 10:30pm we dragged our protesting children to the car and counted the outing as a success.

Amidst our ample time for contemplation and reflection while in Greybull, we decided that our perception of the campgrounds and even cities/towns/areas where we stay varies significantly based on who is around us as our neighbors. When we stayed next to a larger couple who started each day off with a coke and cigarette and sat outside the camper most of the day, we weren’t as impressed with the area (Greybull). But when we stayed next to a decked out camper van belonging to a talkative family who was taking a three-week cross-country road trip, we had a more favorable view of the place. Does this say more about us or about the area we are in? We concluded that we need to be more openminded.

Overall, we have been quite lucky so far with the campgrounds we’ve been to. We have been pretty close to our neighbors at several spots, but have yet to have issues with noise or questions about safety anywhere we have stayed. Here’s to hoping the trend continues! Next stop - Yellowstone.