Laramigos

I now have Wyoming license plates, so people are waving to me on the mountain roads instead of staring in disbelief at FLORIDA. I only have a temporary paper license, though, because I have to wait for the official one to come in the mail. I guess Laramie didn't spring for one of those laminated printer machines and decided to let Cheyenne deal with the hassle. How rustic!
I have to say, I can't remember dealing with more pleasant officials. There was no DMV as such; I had to go to a license department, the sheriff's department, the county clerk and the county treasurer, and everyone was smiling and pleasant and friendly. The county clerk even apologized for our "long wait" in line behind three people. The whole process took less than an hour and there was no take-a-number-and-take-a-seat-in-our-creepy,-crowded-waiting-area-with-the-weird-smell. I should know about DMVs; this is my sixth state license in ten years, and the process was never easier.

I think this part of the country is just mostly laid back and relaxed. I walked last night to a free municipal band concert in a local park and people were comfortably hanging around on blankets and lawn chairs, letting their dogs meet and enjoying the fresh air and music. Casual cyclists safely ride their bikes all over town and greet you when they pass by.

Downtown is quaint, but vibrant, with western touches in the architecture and decor. A sign on a marquis says "Welcome, Laramigos". Today I saw a bison on skis outside a sporting good shop and a happy bear welcoming me into a restaurant. Those kinds of touches make me laugh.





There's a difference in lifestyle a mere hour south in Fort Collins, Colorado. It's a town about four times larger than Laramie, so there's much more sprawl, traffic and crowds. Many people there drive with obvious aggression and agitation. I got so flustered I had to stop for a double latte.

Although I enjoy the ease with which I can escape to the mountains, I'm glad I live in a place where I can easily walk to grab a snack, or sit in a well-maintained park, or see a free museum of art or native plants or dinosaur bones. "Big Al" the allosaurus is a pretty fun neighbor and there are some cute cottontails nearby, too. Luckily Big Al is well past his bunny-eating days, but he still lurks in the shadows, hoping.

Wild Wyoming

Gone are the days of traffic jams and look-alike street corners plagued with identical Walgreens and CVS stores. Pronghorn counting and prairie dog dodging have become my new driving entertainment. I have happily traded billboards screaming "We bare all" and "Life begins at conception" for more tasteful signs like "Elevation 2 miles above sea level" and "Now crossing the Continental Divide".

Laramie, Wyoming has very little urban sprawl. Yes, there is a Wal-Mart, but even it has pretty views. Many roads simply end with no more warning than a white and orange wooden barrier indicating that it may be wise to apply the brakes. I'm not sure how excited I am about Outlaw Days, Jamborees and Rodeos, but then, festivals were never my thing to begin with. As long as no one forces me into a cowboy hat or makes me eat "barbeque", I can coexist peacefully with the country themes of local towns.

Laramie is pretty with its unique sandstone university, old west downtown and quiet tree-lined streets, but I find the beauty of Wyoming centered in its wilderness. Sparsely populated, it takes mere minutes to be in the midst of crazy rock formations, mountain lakes or scrubby pastures full of cattle and antelope. Colorado and its mountain vistas in places such as Rocky Mountain National Park are an hour or two away by car. I feel lucky to be so near such magnificent beauty.

I am excited by the variety of wildlife seen from the road and hiking trails. In ten days of exploring I've already seen more deer, elk, antelope and prairie dogs than I can count, not to mention big horn sheep and marmots. Okay, so I've also found mosquitos and ticks trying to attach themselves vampire-like to my skin, but I will put up with a few pests for experiences such as accidentally flushing a baby pronghorn from a brush thicket on a hike. We were both quite startled, but in the end I felt bad for scaring the poor little thing. I apologized, of course, but I'm not sure that made much of a difference. In the end, though, when confronted with nature I always find that politeness counts. I like to thank trees for their help with balancing over snow patches and streams. I regularly pat rocks in gratitude for providing a seat or acting as a step stool. "Please don't eat me Mr. Mountain Lion, good kitty" has also kept me safe thus far.

I am excited to be a Wyomingite. On a recent trip to a Laramie outdoor adventure store for some topo-maps, the clerk asked, "Local or tourist?"

I'm a local!