Casper, WY

It’s been a very quiet day in Casper, WY. With a population of just over 55,000, Casper is the second largest city in the state. Two nights was probably one more than I needed to take in what Casper has to offer, but it was still enjoyable, nonetheless.

I indulged in a platter of waffles at the Perkins restaurant down the street and while it is a chain restaurant, it’s not one I have easy access to in Southern Illinois. In graduate school, I remember going to the Perkins in Springfield just for pie as a reward for making it through hard weeks. The waffles were good, but I mostly enjoyed it for the nostalgia.

There are only a handful of things to do within the city of Casper and so I picked two of the top five on TripAdvisor. My first stop was at the National Historic Trails Interpretive Center. It is a free and very interactive historical account of the Oregon, California, and Mormon trails as well as the Pony Express. Modern technology allowed me to take a carriage ride out west and even gave me a glimpse into what the migrators experienced during the cold, harsh winters. Casper is located on the North Platt River and served as pitstop for the thousands of men, women, and children moving west in search of land, gold, and a better life.

My second stop was at the Werner Wildlife Museum. This small museum houses an impressive collection of stuffed animals, birds, and fish. While most of the animals displayed were native to Wyoming, it also contained a rhinoceros and a polar bear.

As I walked through the aisles, I was greeted by a friendly museum staff worker and we struck up a conversation. She asked me where I was from, what brought me to the west, and where I was headed next. After giving me some advice on places to stop in Kansas, she flashed me a smile and said, “I love to travel on my own and I love to see other women out on their own being wild in the world too!” I giggled because while I appreciated the sentiment, I would hardly call myself wild.

I have built my entire life out of not being wild. Not to say I don’t manage to get into my own mischief every once in a while, but “wild” is the last word I would use to describe myself. My best friends once took me to Las Vegas as their chaperone, that’s how not wild I am. I am a planner. I am not a “fly by the seat of my pants” type person. On one particular girls night my friend Amber said, “I just feel like you do better when we have a plan. You seem to have more fun.” It’s true, My Anxiety likes to be prepared and she loves knowing what comes next. The unknown gives My Anxiety some major anxiety.

It’s hard for me to imagine myself as “wild” with my marginally rigid routines, 9:00 bedtime, and Saturday nights curled up on my couch watching old episodes of Cheers. But as the day comes to an end on my last night in Wyoming, I can’t help but think about how I ended up here in the first place. I made the decision to take this road trip in less that 48 hours. I planned it in less five days. I made the choice to go knowing I would be spending at least two weeks, on my own, far away from home. So yeah, maybe she is right. Maybe I am wild after all