3 years

Well, I guess I will continue on with my story. 3 years ago today, I woke up around 6:00 am. The sound of an alarm clock buzzing in my head. I sat up in that dingy, dive of a motel room and reflected on the last nights dreams. I had crazy dreams through the night, dreams of Wyoming, dreams of my wife living in Wyoming. I guess they were the type of dreams that you wake up and it takes a while to figure out if they were a dream or not. The kind of dream that sticks with you for the rest of the day.

As I shook it off I climbed out of my sleeping bag and plopped on to the floor again for another prayer. I don't think it was a regular prayer, not my usual, "help me have a good day" la da da da da, but It had a little more meaning to it, in fact it carried more pleading, more pleases, more thank yous, and more help me I don't know what I am doings , in fact there were a whole lot of help me I don't know what I am doings.

I wasn't to meet my boss's son until 8:00 AM, so I had plenty of time to get ready, plus the office was about 2 minutes away from the Western Motel. The sick feeling looming about four inches behind my naval had fled through the middle of the night but started slowly creeping its way back with every click of the clock. I jumped into the shower, nearly slipping on the mildewy tile, took a quick navy shower and got dressed. I had some clothes set aside, new clothes a yellow plaid button up shirt and a pair of new pants. I thought it would be important to make a good 1st impression with nice new clothes. The funny thing about that shirt, is that day was probably the only time I ever wore that shirt. It still sits in my closet having one wash and as new as it was three years ago. I don't know why but the sick feeling of that day comes back every time I look at that shirt.


After getting ready, watching a little TV, kneeling down for three or four more prayers, I loaded my crates back into the back of my truck, and headed for a gas station. It struck me as I pulled into the gas station that the parking lot was not paved. I know that is something little but that was a type of catalyst to that sick feeling that I was feeling, and that doubt and fear that was taking everything that I possibly had to not succumb to.


After filling up with gas, I drove to my new home office. I was a little early and after about five minutes Will (my bosses son) pulled up in a nice Duramax Diesel. Will was about 6'-1" a lean 200 lbs, he looked normal, I noticed his lower lip protruded a little more from a morning dip of Copenhagen satisfaction. I climbed out of my truck and walked to the front door of the office as he unlocked it. He said, You Dave? I mustered up a pretty good smile, stuck my hand out and said "I sure am, you must be Will, nice to meet you"), (hell, I think I'd make a good politician sick feeling or not). We walked into the office, the building was large, which pleased me. The first think that I notice was the cigarette smell as I walked into the office, it was quite imposing, and coming from Utah, I just wasn't used to the smell of cigarettes inside a building, as I looked around, I noticed numerous trophy animals on the wall and that pleased me, in fact it pleased me enough to forget about the cigarette smell. We walked back into Will's office and another thing that pleased me was the equipment. Everything was the best, the best computers, the best printers. I noticed that Will had a box with a new pair of Danner hunting boots on the couch of his office. That kind of made me feel a little better. I don't know why, I guess I am a little weird. After about an hour of talking and meeting people in the office, I said my goodbyes, left the office and climbed back into my truck. I have to admit that I was getting pretty excited to see Sheridan, I had only heard good things about the place and needed to see for myself. What if it was like Green River??? What if? The sick feeling made itself aware again.

As my red Chevrolet pickup pulled back onto I-80, I took in the sights and thought, it could only get better from here. After about 30 minutes on I-80, I was still saying it could only get better from here.

There is something lonely about the high plains of Wyoming, and if you have never driven between Green River and Rawlins you will probably never know what I mean. About mid-way between Rawlins and Green River I had to take a wizz so I pulled off a ranch exit and pulled under the freeway. As the wind blew and I heard nothing but diesels driving overhead I wondered what kind of desolate hell I was getting myself into. While I was taking a wizz the cold wind and dust hit me and I began to contemplate my sanity. I thought about the good job that I had turned down in Saint George, I thought about my wife at home alone having to live for the next couple of months by herself, I thought of the good times that I would be leaving with my family and my wife's family, I thought about missing the daily stop at my Dad's office after work to just talk. But then I thought about what it would do to me to give up before I even gave it a shot, I thought about telling my wife that I was going to make it in Wyoming and going back on that and what that would do to me, and I thought about the new Duramax Diesel and Four Wheeler waiting for me at my new job, I thought about the answered prayers and what God wanted me to do, and the money, yes the sweet money.

I jumped back into my truck and began to drive. After about 30 more minutes of Hell, I called my wife. She asked how it was going? I said, I don't know, I just don't know. She asked if it was pretty, I said well not really, pretty close to hell. We hung up. I looked north-east, no mountains for a million miles. I couldn't see mountains anywhere, just sage brush and wind.

Rawlins. After what seemed like forever, I had reached Rawlins. Rawlins was the point on the map that stopped my eastern route and took me north. I wasn't impressed with Rawlins. Rawlins was the dumpiest town that I had ever been in. I stopped at a Loaf and Jug, but didn't feel much like anything. So I headed north. The drive between Rawlins and Casper didn't seem to get any better in fact as I drove past the Martins Cove area my moral hit an all time low. In fact, I don't know of a time in my life that it had ever been that low. I began to think about the pioneers. I thought about the pioneers leaving there homes, and I wondered if when they hit the Martins Cove area if they about lost it. I realised that it was faith that brought them to that point, and it was a something of a spiritual experience as my path crossed the path that I had envisioned they had made. I realised that I was a pioneer in my own sense and also realised the faith that the earlier pioneers had, made mine seem bleak in comparison. There they were burying their children in frozen graves and still pushing on, on the other hand there I was driving 75 mph down the highway about to give up because I was homesick. I had a couple of realizations in about a five mile stretch that I will never be able to forget.
One realization that I will never forget was how important it is to understand God's will before you make a decision because God sees the whole picture. I think it is easy sometimes to want something so bad that we do not allow God's will to play into the picture. I knew that before even praying about the Wyoming move that I really wanted to live in Wyoming. I had to do a little praying around Martins Cove to check myself, because I no longer wanted to live in Wyoming. I was really ready to accept God's will. To my relief I had gotten another answer that, yes I needed to be making this move.
As I drove away from Martin's Cove, I sang Come Come Ye Saints. The song would never be the same to me again.
Casper. Beautiful Casper. As I pulled into Casper, the wind about blew me off the road. I pulled into another Loaf and Jug to get gas. I called my wife and told her about beautiful Casper. It had mountains, it had wind, it was cold, and frankly wasn't the beautiful Wyoming that I had envisioned. I walked into the gas station to use the bathroom, the lady at the counter pointed to the out of service sign on the bathroom door and directed me to the port-o-potty out side. As I sat in that port-o-potty and as the wind nearly blew me over, the thought came to me. I am only 2 hours away from Sheridan, there is no possible way that in just 2 short hours that the landscape would be able to make the transition to the paradise that I had imagined. I thought maybe God wants me out here because that's what I deserve, I mean shoot, I ain't that good of kid. I left the poly-john wondering.
I jumped back into my truck and headed for Sheridan. As I passed Kaycee Wyoming the home of Chris Ledoux, I wasn't overly impressed. I said to myself "that Chris Ledoux is full of sh%#." and "Sweet Wyoming Home my @ss!" How could I have been so mis-led by his songs of Big Wonderful Wyoming? I didn't stop.
Hmmmmmmm. Okay, I thought to myself after about ten more miles. Maybe this isn't too bad. As I reached the town of Buffalo, a calmness settled into my soul. I apologised silently to Chris Ledoux for all of the bad things that I had said. Buffalo was absolutely beautiful. How could this have happened? No wind, What? I had to stop. I saw a gas station, so I pulled off. The gas station was named the G-spot. I giggled to myself... G-spot heh heh heh, your telling me. I talked to the fat kid at the counter about Sheridan as he rang up my soda pop. I asked him if Sheridan was as nice as Buffalo, he said yeah, we just have more white trash in Buffalo. I laughed, thanked him and got back into my truck and headed north for the last 30 minutes of my trip. That 30 minutes was the most stress relieving trip of my life. I looked at ranches and houses, and imagined places that I would live. It was beautiful. In fact, I did not remember ever being in such beautiful country.
Sheridan. As I pulled into Sheridan, I felt good. I said a quick prayer and thanked God for his mercy and love. I told God that I loved him and that I would make it right with him for hooking me up. I called my wife and told her I was there. I told her: "Cindy, you can't believe how lucky we are!" I hung up. I was here. I called the guy I was supposed to meet, we met and I made it. I would make it my Sweet Wyoming home.

I wrote about this, not to bore the world with my whining and stories but, I guess it was the most pivotal thing I had ever done.
I have had a good life as an adult. I mean I went on a mission away from home when I was 19 for two years, I got married, my wife and I lived on our own, we put ourselves through school without scholarships, we have never taken a dime from our parents, We both earned college degrees. We made it on our own without trust funds or inheritances. We did everything on what we learned from our parents and faith in God.
I did a lot of things as an adult, but moving to Wyoming with nothing but faith in an answered prayer made me a man. I guess that's why I wrote about it.