“What’s out now” roadside bouquet edition 💐
Plucked from the edge, trimmed thin: Hitch-hikin’ hillbillies waiting for their lift, clover-ing blown berries, do-little daisies, roadie hipsters hiking the hips of their rose; it’s these last days, just a few more- almost there… Falling naps of autumn we all can’t wait for.
Wandering petals, asking asters. What’s up next?
Wyoming Adventure
Hitch-hiking through Wyoming’s cowboy country is like stepping into a living postcard—wide skies, endless plains, and the occasional tumbleweed rolling past as if on cue. The roads stretch long and lonely, flanked by barbed wire fences and grazing cattle, with distant buttes rising like ancient sentinels. Drivers who stop are often ranchers in dusty pickups or travelers with stories as rugged as the terrain. There’s a quiet camaraderie in those roadside exchanges: a nod, a handshake, maybe a thermos of coffee passed your way. You learn quickly that out here, kindness is currency, and time moves at the pace of the wind.
Ride or Hike
Each ride feels like a chapter in a Western novel. One moment you’re squeezed between feed sacks in the back of a truck. The next minute you’re swapping tales with a retired rodeo rider who swears he once roped a steer blindfolded. The towns you pass are small and rich with character. Saloons double as diners and everyone knows the sheriff by name. Hitch-hiking becomes more than a way to get from point A to B. It’s a way to tap into the pulse of a land that still believes in grit, grace, and the open range.
It’s not all romantic dust and denim. There are stretches where the sun beats down mercilessly. The only company is the occasional pronghorn darting across the road. You learn to read the clouds, trust your instincts, and carry more water than you think you’ll need. Even in the solitude, there’s a kind of freedom that’s hard to find elsewhere; a sense that you’re part of something vast and untamed. In Wyoming cowboy country, hitch-hiking isn’t just travel. It’s a rite of passage.
