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and headed south again.  We wasted almost half a day playing keep away in Casper.  We'd have to find another route on the return trip.
         Once we headed south again I started to see mule deer and antelope on the desert-like plains alongside the road.  The snow-capped mountains that stayed to our right was a reassurance that something was right with the world.  You just knew they'd be there the next day.
        We were exhausted by dinnertime.  My nerves were shot to hell and gone, Mason was holding it together but I knew he was ready to call it quits, so we started looking for somewhere we could rest for the night.  The one rest area on the interstate we came to next was full so we decided to keep going.   I wanted to stop before we got to Cheyenne so when we got to Chugwater, we agreed to stay overnight.
         Chugwater was located in a valley with deep, clay-stone bluffs to the north and west.  According to Lacy, 'an Indian chief was disabled during the hunt and his son took charge.  Under his direction, hunters drove the bison over nearby cliffs, when the animals reached the ground below, a sound of 'chugging' was heard by the hunters.  Good enough reason I guess to name a town which might account for the population of 212.  Or not.
        Grain elevators sat at one end of town with small concrete buildings along main street.  Our convoy stopped in the middle of main street and waited to see what walked out.  I guess maybe Mason got a bit impatient because he reached up, grabbed the air horn handle and blared out a big, old hello.  When he felt me looking at him, he shrugged and said, "What?"
         "You have to ask?  You must really be tired.  I'll get the guns," and feeling put upon, I unhitched my seat belt, climbed into the bunk where I'd gathered our gear and prepared to do battle.  When nothing happened, we got out and faced a different direction, ready and waiting.  Well, hell, where was everyone.
         "They're in Casper."  Clint said as he approached us quietly. I looked at Mason but he was as surprised as I was.
         "Oh, I wasn't reading your mind.  But I asked the same question, so figured you was wondering.  There aren't that many anyway, so they had to go somewhere.  We'll break up into groups and check things out, but I figure the place is abandoned."
         So Mason and I headed to the north end of town and took the side with the grain elevator and started clearing each building.  I needed the exercise anyway after the harrowing experience in Casper.  We'd spent one whole day in Wyoming and were still only halfway through.  At this pace, it'll be time to turn around and head back as soon as we get to New Mexico.  We cleared most of the buildings when we met Randy and Flynn coming down the street.  They'd cleared the buildings ahead of us but it took nearly an hour to secure the whole town.
         Clint, Joe, Riley and Howard strolled up the street like they were on an evening walk talking quietly among themselves.  We talked a bit then decided all was clear and let the kids and dog go.  The women soon came out and we investigated the local watering hole, the Chugwater Soda Fountain with the elk head mounted on the wall.  I was surprised to find this one didn't have it's legs mounted underneath holding the rifle used to kill it.   Talk about overkill.
         The weather here was hot.  It was a dry heat but hot was hot no matter what the humidity was.  The sky was a pale blue, no sign of clouds and that's ok cause this part of the country was known to have a few tornadoes.  The creek running nearby was cool and it felt good to sit on the bank with your feet swinging in the stream, watching the trout swim by.  The other side of the bank was lined with cottonwood trees and beyond them were a small herd of antelope with their white rear ends or diaper butts  munching on the remaining grasses.  Past the creek were the bluffs the indians drove