Friday, August 13, 2010

DAY 43

 Yesterday, heading southwest to Red Lodge, we passed through miles of lush verdant meadows, pastures and fields lined with fresh bales of hay.
Bear Tooth Mountains

Road to Red Lodge
Crossing into Wyoming, just south of Thermopolis, we are swept along through the narrow Wind River Canyon with rushing waters dropping off to the side of the road below. A railroad track clung by its iron claws  to the steep walls of the canyon where an occasional rickety old tunnels looked more like mine shafts. This mystical looking portal through the mountains is all part of an Indian Reservation.
Wind River Canyon

Traveling on further into WY, we are shoved along by ferocious winds howling like a ghostly banshee across the endless stretch of wide open prairie. These desolate lands are so stark it could quite effectively be painted with one simple wide stroke of a brush loaded with barren nameless color, only the welcomed sight of vertical lines of telephone poles offered any break to the endless expanse of land and sky. Dry tumbleweed floating and drifting across the road, only added more mystery and stark beauty to the landscape.

Today we are heading back into Colorado and on into Texas as we continue homeward. See ya down the highway.


  1. ". . . one simple wide stroke of a brush loaded with barren nameless color," can often contain more beauty than the colors of the rainbow. Love it!

  2. I loved your comment. You are so right...less can often be more.