For context please read the first segment of this story, found here.
As we arrived in the sleepy town of Green River, Wyoming to gas up we decided to get out of the car, drink some soda and attempt to do kick flips in the parking lot. Getting out of the car and acting like small children at every stop makes for a much more enjoyable road trip. And as we all know, the longer you remain awake the funnier things become. At this point it was about 3:30 in the morning and we still had to drive from one end to the other of the Equality State.
A few hours later I was still awake and the sun was starting to rise. Music continued to play while half the car was in a deep coma and the other half flirted back and forth with jocular conversation. We were now in the vast and open state of Wyoming. Our view was a cornucopia of barren fields, what we assumed were bison in the distance, and the occasional small town. At about 10:00 a.m. I was still awake and the hilarity of every sentence I heard was beginning to reach an all-time high. We decided to stop in a couple hours for a hardy meal, but a few miles later I saw something in the distance I wanted to explore and demanded that we stop the car. It was a decrepit house about one-hundred yards off the highway near the town of Manville. There was a large windmill on the property and no other sign of life for miles. Me and one of my other travel mates ran out there and immediately started to poke around the derelict home of yesteryear. We found nothing particularly inspiring, but it was curious that the house still remained after decades of abandonment. Per usual, we took advantage of the moment and took copious amounts of pictures, perhaps to the bemusement of our less peppy and awake passengers who remained in the car chagrined and fussy.
We trekked on until we arrived in the bustling town of Lusk, Wyoming, population 1,567. We pulled into the only place we could see that would possibly serve food, the Triangle 4 Café & Steak House. We entered, and quickly realized that we were not of the same cultural milieu of these people. We both had tight pants and hats, but theirs were Wranglers and cowboys hats, and ours were skinny jeans and snap-backs. Our food was actually delicious despite the abysmal service and unsolicited stares we received from confused ranchers. Wyoming knows how to make omelets. Before getting back in the car we walked around a minute to more fully take in Lusk. Every city and town has its own story, and just taking an extra 5 minutes to poke around and talk to locals can really help you feel the history of that town without ever having reading a dusty book on the town’s history.
We then got back into our beloved Hyundai and continued eastward, next stop South Dakota.