After my lovely Olga got her new oil pan and coolant hose in Colorado Springs, I bade farewell to my gracious hosts, and was on my merry way to Cody, Wyoming. There, I was to meet up with a few of my favorite Roadtrekers.
I drove up to Glendo State Park, about 100 miles southeast of Casper. I’d had a tip from Mike Wendland to stay in the Red Rock area of the park. It’s higher and has a great view of the reservoir. It was quiet and I had a whole section to myself. Then the storm blew in, with hail and heavy winds. Fortunately, it was short lived and the evening turned out to be beautiful. I took my traveling canine companion, Ruka, and we went for an evening drive.
The next day, after a hairy, stop-and-go drive through the Wind River Gorge, which had just barely re-opened after several rockslides, I drove on to Cody and the gang. After many hugs and gift swapping, the festivities began (I tell myself they were waiting for me to liven things up). Five of us went into town to hit the Buffalo Bill Center of the West.
Stupendous! The museum is part of the Smithsonian Affiliates and is world class. I headed, pronto, to the Whitney Western Art exhibit, which had original Catlins, Remmingtons, Bierstadts (took my breath away) and Russels among many other wonderful artists. Then I hit the Plains Indians section and was equally blown away. The guys went straight to the Firearms rooms and were overwhelmed. This museum should be on everyone’s bucket list if you haven’t already been.
After the place closed at six, we headed downtown to see the big western shootout show in front of the famous Irma Hotel. I think Jim D. thought it was the real deal and finagled a chair up front. His poor wife had to break the news to him, later on. He was inconsolable, but bucked up for a steak dinner.
Putting on the feed-bag, Laura P. Carolyn D. and I sampled our first Rocky Mountain Oysters. Funny how the guys could not be persuaded to try them… You know, when in Western Rome, try the local fare. Or not. By the way, they do not taste like chicken.
Next day, back to finish the museum and do a little shopping. A few more Roadtrekers showed up and we all went down to the rodeo that evening. What a blast! Cody has a rodeo every night all summer long and I was in heaven. I love rodeos, which is weird since I have lived in cities my whole life. Maybe it’s just the culture difference. I am fascinated by men that get on top of gigantic, 2,000-lb. bucking bulls and wild broncos, only to be pitched off onto the dirt and soundly trampled. I think it is the most dangerous sport in the entire solar system. No wonder they have to quit by about age 28. It might be the slightly sadistic side of us that we all had a great time.
So next time you head up to Cody, Wyoming, I’d suggest a stopover. You just never know where you’ll find fine art, cowboys, and some good “shellfish.” 🙂
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