 Prudence McCoy My Diary. Again Thursday Night: Packing for a week in the bloody wilderness is impossible! What exactly do people wear on the edge of the world? Pith helmets and lederhosen? Not the sort of things I have hanging in my closet. I mean, I’m a New Yorker, aren’t I? I know how to dress – for the city. Practical and sophisticated. An outfit for every situation – from SoHo to Central Park. But, sodding Wyoming? Do they have paved streets out there yet, or it is all muck and manure? Oh, well, my motto is, ‘When in doubt, pack it all”. I’ll bring a few dozen things. That way, I can mix and match. Or go shopping. One doesn’t want to have a fashion fiasco in the middle of nowhere, now, does one? Hugs and kisses, Prudence. Flying to Wyoming: At 30,000 feet and heading for Wyoming. I feel a bit like Columbus must have when he set sail from Spain, or wherever it was he left from, and headed out into the unknown. I guarantee you, as civilization slipped from sight, the poor twit had second thoughts about the trip. Third and fourth, probably. I know I did. But, then the mimosas were served and things started to look up. I mean, travel broadens one doesn’t it? It’s good to have a change of scenery now and then. Inject a bit of variety into the old routine. New places, new faces, what? Flying to Wyoming (later) :Looking out the window as we circle to land, the view is spectacular. Snow-capped mountains, crystal blue skies, billowing white clouds and – oh my God -- almost nothing else! No freeways. No skyscrapers. Just trees, vast stretches of nothing and scrawny little roads that don’t seem to lead anywhere. Which makes sense, because there doesn’t appear to be anywhere to go. Jeffrey has instructed me, in his very stern, paternal voice, to relax while I’m here. Do absolutely nothing. That’s going to be easier than I thought – because it looks like there’s absolutely nothing to do. Arriving in Wyoming: A pleasant surprise! Once we’d landed, I realized there is life on the ground here in Wyoming. A fair amount of it, actually. People, cars, stores, the whole lot. Just much less of everything than in New York City. Which might not be a bad thing, once one gets over the culture shock. I mean, finding a decent blended double mint mocha chip frappuccino with organic whipped cream might be tough, but if one can handle a steaming ‘cup of joe’, one can get by. And I’m a Brit. We’re used to enduring the hardships of foreign cultures. We learned to wear jodhpurs in India, didn’t we? A local Native American woman who runs the lodge for Jeffrey -- RuthVigil – picked me up at the airport. She’s warm, gracious, beautiful. On the way to the lodge, we stopped by a place called Tassajaro, a sacred place for her tribe for hundreds of years. The views of the mountains, from the ground this time, were even more spectacular than from the air. One gets a sense of how very small and insignificant we are while standing in the shadows of some of Nature’s greatest wonders. Oh, God, listen to me. I’m already blathering on about this place and I’ve only been here a matter of hours. I hope I don’t get completely intolerable. But, still, it is true. Life is bigger than we are and we might as well get used to that idea. And, speaking of life – actually, speaking of men, to be shamelessly blunt – I met a delightfully charming man out at Tassjaro. Doug Craig. A local lawyer. Successful. Smart. And single, in case you wondered. Not that I’m looking, or even interested, for that matter. But, still, he had a lovely smile, didn’t he? That’s a rhetorical question. The answer is, ‘yes, a very lovely smile, thank you very much’. He invited me for drinks. If I wasn’t too busy. We’ll see. One is supposed to relax while on vacation, isn’t one? ***************************************************************** More Wyoming |