Wyoming was failry desolate, a few trailers here and there, oil rigs occasionally, a coal mine, and then there were the Big Horn Mountains. Traveling over the Big Horns was an adventure in itself. Rolling hills of flowers, rocky cliffs, and snowcapped peaks. Angela was excited because it looked like we were in "The Sound of Music." But Budgie, our truck, was never meant to travel through mountains tugging a car so we had the constant threat of overheating as we were climbing, after that it was smooth sailing. (I bet you thought I was going to make some joke about it being "all downhill from there".)
