[173] Screed City

[173]

08/03/2022 Wednesday. Milk Crate. Stabbin' Cabin. Worlando Beach, Wyoming.

Well, we made it. Two days. Four hours of flying. 14 hours of driving. I mean, the getting to the airport and flying to Denver were uneventful. I mean, the Albany airport was a little annoying. Or, I guess Frontier was a little annoying. I mean, somehow they had my birthday wrong on my ticket, which they blamed on me. I mean, I don't remember typing my birthday in when I bought the ticket, and I really doubt I would have done it wrong, but we had to stand in line for forever because they only open the security at certain times, like when there are flights, therefore the line was huge. We got to the front and had to go back down to the kiosk to have them change the thing. Which was whatever, but as we were going through a second time, expediated at least, the woman behind us had the same problem, so that tells me that it wasn't my fault, butwhatever. We had plenty of time. Also, since Professor Curly wasn't coming we had an issue with the luggage that may or may not be resolved. I mean, I have to call them tomorrow and check on the status of her ticket. Like maybe you can't fly back from somewhere if you didn't fly there in the first place? All of it, pure theater. Good old Patriot Act still hard at work.

I mean, I decided to not get a refund for PC's ticket. Mostly because I wanted that seat open. And since there is a possibility that she may still come out, I wanted to leave the option open. Also, the ticket itself was cheap, like $100 dollars. Twice. Where they got me was the luggage and the seat selection and the carry on. I mean, modern travel, am I right?

Where things really hit a snag though was when we got to the car rental place. They had all these signs, everywhere. They said: "No Debit Cards!" Which, I mean, I guess they really meant it because when we got to the front desk the guy wouldn't take G's credit card. I said:

"That is ridiculous."

He said: "The name on the card needs to match the name on the reservation."

I said: "I really wish I would have known this before I got here. You really should make it obvious on the website."

He said: "I'm sure it is."

I said: "I'm sure it's not! I reread that thing a thousand times and not once did I see anything like it!"

He said: "Now relax! Don't get angry at me."

I said: "Well, what the hell can I do? You realize you are stranding me here! I mean, really? There is nothing I can do?" He just shook his head. I said: "I mean, what now?"

He said: "You can take the shuttle bus back and go to another carrier. There are some that take debit cards."

I said: "Seriously? I have to go back to the fucking airport and take another bus? This is bullshit!" I mean, I had lost. They had won. We went outside to wait for the bus. G had a good idea. We could see the other car rental places across the way. We just couldn't get there by walking. G decided to get an Uber. Which was very smart. I spent the time waiting by reserving a car at another rental car place. Which was only nominally more expensive. Or so I thought. I mean, I won't bore you with the details, but an hour later, after spending nearly $3,000 dollars they gave us a Toyota SUV. Which, I mean, I am still suffering from the sticker shock ATBMS. But what was the other option? We sure as hell weren't going to walk to Worland. And even if some poor idiot was willing to come pick us up, then what? Three weeks in Wyoming without a car? I have done that before, and it is not pleasant. I mean, luckily I did all that work before I left, otherwise I would be feeling really insane right now. Which, I mean, three weeks in Wyoming being broke as hell is also not very pleasant. Either way, we drove the behemoth to the hotel. Checked in. Put our stuff in the room and went back out to get dinner.

Dinner was the 7-11 down the way. G got three steak and cheese taquitos. Some 7-11 strawberries, some chips and some fruit gummies. I got some Ticklers and some fried chicken wings. We paid and went back to the hotel. Hung out for a while. Decompressing. Eating junk. I drank a Tickler and a half. By then it was very late. We both hit the sack. I was exhausted. Trying to force myself to deal with the exorbenant rental monies. I couldn't. I just couldn't process that information. There was no suspension of disbelief. I mean, I just needed to sleep on it, but I couldn't. I was so tired I would fall asleep, my brain would process everything else that happened during the day, but then it would start to think about that cost and I would wake up. I mean, this happened ALL night. I would fall asleep, feeling good, my brain working great and then this information would hit, and BAM! I was awake again. It was like a 30 minute cycle. Over and over and over again. I mean, sometime around 6:30a I gave up. I was about to get out of bed, but somehow I fell asleep again. This time I made it through one pass of the price processing. I mean, I woke up at 7:30a and felt a little better. There was nothing I could do. Nothing doing. What's done is done. I mean, whatever. They robbed me and that is that. I mean, I made the woman promise that there would be no other hidden fees when I got back and she said that as long as I got the thing back on time there shouldn't be an issue. I don't believe it for a second, but it is all I got to go on.

I mean, I got out of bed around 8a. Opened the shades to let the sunshine in. G groaned. I made some decaf coffee because for some reason that is all they had in the room. I mean, I didn't mind it so much. I would have preferred the regular stuff, but I was still a little on edge from the night before, so it was probably for the best. We were packed and on the road by 9a. Which was alright. I mean the car is kind of nice. A truck even. But without an open bed. A Four-Runner? Fore-Runner? 4-Runner? A big ol' thing. 20 mpg. Which adds insult to injury ATBMS. I mean, I did have a thought that I should go back and see if I could exchange the thing. But to what end? What's done is done. If god wants me to drive a huge beefy, I am sure he has his reasons. I mean, the thing is nice. It drives nice and has good A/C and connects to your phone real good. I mean, we started driving North. On I 25. Which brought me back. Like to the olden days. The hundreds of trips I have gone on up and down from Wyoming. Not much has changed aside from everything. Denver makes me feel bad. It really is a bastard of a cultural black hole. Just sprawling and empty. With the huge beautiful Rockies in the distance mocking you. I mean, it really is pretty right there. But between the housing extensions and unbelievable amount of traffic going god-knows-where. I mean, somehow we passed Greeley without even noticing. And I looked. I always look. That town. With it's burning blood exhaust stacks and all that beef. I mean, I didn't even notice the Coors plant. Did it move? They were building some new huge building for what? I don't know. I mean, we turned of to Fort Collins eventually and things started to look like they used to again.

I mean, that trip in-between Fort Collins and Laramie. So many hours on that drive. Going down to Denver to see shows or whatever. That was always the most tortuous part. Because it took forever to get out of Wyoming. And then you got rewarded with lame ol' Fort Collins. But then finally the interstate. And you could watch the city unfold in front of you. I mean, you always ended up in Denver at the end of it all, but still, it was kind of exciting seeing the city unfold like that. I mean, but we were going the opposite direction. And Wyoming is even prettier than Colorado. In some places. I mean, when all the traffic goes away. And Laramie is still a very funny place. I took G down some back streets to show them where I lived and worked. Where Dishwasher [Italics] happened. For once they were intrigued. And then you get out of Laramie and it is a big old holy shit nothing for a good two hours. I mean, we drove by a train that was going the same direction as us. We counted 184 cars. Did some math. Decided the thing was roughly two miles long. Just cruising along. Heading god knows where. Casper? Then what? Billings? Missoula? Canada? I mean, we hit construction at one point. We were the first car in line for the pilot car. The guy holding the stop/slow sign walked over to us. I rolled the window down. He said:

"Well, the last car just left, it's gonna be about fifteen minutes." I thought this meant he would go back to just standing there, but no, he went right into it. "Yeah, it takes a little while. But what can you do?" He was about 20 and had a very bad sunburn. He was slouching pretty good and had bad teeth. He smiled a lot and was of high spirits.

I said: "At least it's not too hot." It wasn't too hot. There was a nice breeze and we were at about 7,000 feet above sea level. I mean, this led to him telling us about how he had been in the army and how they once cooked a steak on the side of the road for 24 hours and the steak was perfect medium rare and that one time he shot a missile from a tank and just when he shot the missile a deer, with a 10 point rack, jumped out and he split the thing in two and his commanding officer said they should never speak of this again and that he sometimes was a bouncer at some school or something and one day a guy got really agro with him so he knocked him out so now he was a flagger part time and he made $100 to $150 bucks for a 12 hour day and he couldn't complain. He also told us that Wyoming had four seasons, one was Winter, one was Spring and then there was a second Winter and then there was construction season. I mean, it was all fascinating. Not a single bit of politics. I wished the G had recorded the 15 minute conversation, but alas, they didn't.

I mean, the next bit of travel was rough. The road was mostly chipped rock asphalt or whatever. Every time a car came the opposite direction I had to veer as far to the right as possible to avoid a broken windshield or a sand-blasting on the side of the rental. But we made it out alright. Then it was nothing but beautiful emptiness for a couple hours. I mean, I was trying to rectify the scenery with Donkey [Italics] because this is where the book takes place. I mean, it is impossible, actually. There is no way that story could take place in this part of Wyoming, but it doesn't matter. Finding an empty cabin on top of a mountain for someone to starve to death in in Wyoming isn't that big of a stretch. So what if it didn't actually happen here. Artistic license. I am calling it! I mean, I did eventually drive by the gas station from the book. I meant to take a photo, but we were heading into town to get lunch, and we had been driving for like four hours at that point, I mean, maybe on the way back.

I mean, we stopped at Taco John's for lunch. I got two taco burgers and a diet Pepsi. G got two soft shells and a Sierra Mist. We also got some potato ole's. Basically tator tots with spices. I mean, we ate this while driving. And the driving, that part, the part between Casper and Shoshone is kind of the worst. I mean, I tried to capture it in Soft Elbows [Italics] which, I mean, I don't think anyone aside from Rambona read that one, but still, that empty space is just very hard. It is nothing and more nothing. Beautiful as shit, but still, it is very hard to stay focused. Luckily G had a playlist to listen to. Otherwise I probably would have had to pull over and do some calisthenics. I mean, it just goes on and on and on and on. And then you get to Shoshone and things change. I mean, I stopped to get gas. G needed a pen. I went inside the gas station to take a leak and buy a pen. Came back out. The gas was still pouring into the car/truck. I washed the windshield. There were quite a few bug carcasses to scrub off. Still the thing pumped. I washed the passenger side windshield. The thing still pumped. I mean, in the end the bill was $80 bucks. With gas at a little over $4 dollars a gallon. I mean, the tank is pretty big, I guess. I mean, we got back on the road and drove past the resevior. Which is also on Reservation land. Wind River Canyon. I mean, the canyon is nice. Has always been nice. Scary as hell. Very wind-y. But that is not what is scary, the rocks above, the cliffs, sometimes that randomly like to drop boulders down and kill people. People driving cars. Or trucks, or whatever. I mean, it is a dangerous canyon. Especially in the Winter. But no boulders brained us. Some people were rafting on the river. And also, because this is Reservation land, I always think I am going to see some Native Americans doing stuff up in the cliffs. I mean, it is stupid, if maybe even worse, like insensitive, but from a young age I was always looking up in those cliffs looking for things like that. What exactly, I couldn't tell you, but the canyon always seemed like a good place to ambush Whitey. Especially the fact that there is a train tracks that goes down and up the canyon. Plus they got those three tunnels to honk your horn in. Which, G, beside themselves, thought that was pretty funny, to honk.

And then the canyon opens up into Hot Springs County, which is all these ancient rock formations and stuff. You know? Places where plates collided and you can see the bottom of ancient oceans or whatever. And literally the "World's Largest Hot Springs" where they have a herd of buffalo roaming around and some water parks and what not. I mean, it is truly amazing looking. I mean, Thermopolis is Wyoming's butthole, but I think it is getting better over time. It is better than Worland at this point. And that is saying something. I mean, Worland may finally have become Wyoming's butthole. It is just a whole bunch of assholes dangling around wishing the rest of America would forget about them. I mean, we drove on. I mean, we passed the pottery place that every single fourth grade class in Worland goes to to learn about using cow patties to make pottery. And then and there I saw a sign for Cheney. A very large sign. For congress. I mean, it was like a giant non-MAGA flag flapping in the breeze. I mean, I had been seeing these things since getting into Wyoming. But none for Cheney. They were all for the MAGA doucher candidates. I mean, after that I saw a few more in Hot Springs County, then when we got to Washakie County I kept seeing them. I mean, we'll see. The whisper campaign is that everyone is going to vote for Cheney. Just nobody can openly support her because of threats of violence coming from the douchers. Even the Dems are converting to Republican to vote in the primary. I mean, the bar is so fucking low, but as much as the Corporate Media would like you to believe the race is already over, I mean, I don't think it is over yet. I guess we will know in a week or so. But, I mean, I am not talking politics, I am talking human rights and Democracy, but this vote in Kansas to not ban abortion. I mean, I do have a very small modicum of hope for the near future. Like maybe the world has not lost it's ever-loving fucking mind. I mean, whatever, I will be here when the vote happens, so I will have a first-hand accounting.

I mean, we eventually turned off the highway at Gooseberry and drove to PegLeg's house. Things are looking good. The grounds. Trees and rocks and arrangements. PegLeg herself is looking great. In high spirits. We hung around for a while. Talking and stuff. Unpacking. Eventually Cousin A came over with little J. Who doesn't hate me this year. She must have forgotten her dislike. Either that, or because I lost a bunch of weight I am not so intrusive. I mean, me and PegLeg got into the rental. G and Cousin A and Little J got into Cousin A's car. We drove out to Asian Fusion, formally Antone's which would serve you a hamburger the size of an average plate. That was there thing. Until they got shut down for having too many rats. And then it became something else I can't remember, and now it is Asian Fusion. I mean, we ate some good food. I had a beef dish with noodles. An iced tea. Unsweetened. PegLeg got the Pad Thai. Cousin A got the fried rice. Little J ate spring rolls and vegetable rolls. G got a cucumber roll that for some reason had cream cheese on it. In it. I mean, who puts cream cheese in sushi? I mean, yikes. I mean, we drove back to PegLeg's afterwards. I stopped at the grocery store for milk and coffee. Then we hung out for a while. G and Cousin A and Little J drove back over to TenSleep for the night. Brother Buck and Sister Amy are doing Karaoke at the Brewery there. Which is why Cousin A is babysitting. I mean, I guess I will see those guys in the morning tomorrow. Minus Little J. I mean, PegLeg went to bed and I came out to the Stabbin' Cabin to write. I mean, I am slowly coming to terms with the car rental. What can I do, really? Nothing, that is what I can do. They got me, dog. I just need to let it go and make a better plan next time when I come out. Oh! I did have a thought that I should rent an apartment in Casper for a couple months sometime soon. Do some writing there. That place needs a guy to give it a nice cold once-over. I mean, it is a perfect place for noir. Windy as hell. But somehow the biggest town in the state. I mean, at this point I feel like it is Alaska to Jack London. For me. I mean, I only know about the rumors and stories, but I have never really spent any time there, myself. I feel like I owe it some actual appreciation. Butwhatever. I have these same thoughts every time I come around. And then I forget them the second I leave. But still, it would be pretty amazing to spend a few months in Casper. Because that town seems seedy as shit.

[Insert Antelope Foto]