More a stop than a sight was the town of Meeteetse. A dot of a town only known for it's three oil fields and it's free museum. We toured only the latter. The museum was almost as big as the town itself, spanning two stories and including an adjacent historic bank and a parking lot of debilitated pioneer transportation, and slightly newer, but no more functional, vehicles. A literal and permanent parking lot. Though it was quite extensive for a town of such a limited population, the museum collection had the appearance of a junk filled attic who, tired of being neglected and couped up, had, with manifest destiny in its mind, taken over the whole house. (Meaning the stuff was more old than interesting). The most noteworthy section (though overwhelmingly comprehensive) was the photography from the old Marlboro Man campaigns, all of which was taken on the ranch up the road. If you don't mind skipping photos of local hunters and the lifelike remains of their kill stopping in Meteetse isn't necessary.
The upside of the historic hoarding is it is clearly a community effort, supported by local taxes and, by the look of it, the hangout for perhaps a quarter of the town. Meeteetse, it would tell you, is also responsible for saving the Black Footed ferret population, though quotes from community members posted on the walls describe the endeavor as "stupid." In the 1970's this particular brand of ferret was thought to be extinct. Domestic animals often make presents of dead animals, but a Meteetse super dog was a special kind of killer. To kill a previously believed extinct species you have to first find the evasive critter, and for scientists to find out about it the dog has to leave the rare corpse on the porch. This would be excellent proof of the superiority of dogs, actually bringing you "gifts" that have scientific importance. (Cats have only brought me things that have no business being preserved). Researchers located a few remaining ferrets and established a highly successful breeding program that has effectively saved the Black Footed ferret.
Next stop was Legend Rock. Even with the rebellious gravel road that brought us to it and the "rattlesnakes in the bush" warning signs, it is definitely worth visiting. (The overzealous lady at the museum reported as reassurance to us that she "drove 45 mph the whole way." If in her claims she doubled her speed to impress us, or if she really reached 45, don't trust her. We tiptoed at 20 mph.)
Legend Rock is an archaeological site featuring 1,500 year old petroglyphs thought to be by Native tribes. It is only a short walk from the parking lot to come within feet of the ancient artwork, which should be easy to complete for anyone wearing closed toed shoes. Though some more modern "artists" have added their own drawings it is still easy to see glimpses into the past and what we think are eagles, spirit gods and other animals (decide for yourself). (It makes you wonder if the more recent sketches of genitalia will take on historic and artistic significance a few centuries from now).
Our final detour was in the city of Thermopolis. Not only does this town have a fantastic name, it also houses the world's largest mineral hot springs. If perhaps not factually true, it is certainly the world's pushiest and desperate hot springs. Signs every mile pleading "Stay, stay" remind you of the existence of the hot springs. They've even gone so far as to write into the side of a mountain 100 feet high "directions" which consists of "Worlds Largest Hot Springs" and arrow. Not exactly MapQuest. In the middle of the various commerical pools and the accompanying water park sits what is called the State Bath House which allows you to spend 20 minutes unwinding in a very large hot springs pool (pick the one outside, it has shade and feels amazing). Yet it somehow gets even better. After spending the luxurious 20 minutes in 104 degree water they threw in a complimentary shower. As I clarified with the puzzled attendant, there may be a time limit on the pool, but the shower, per a crucial oversight by the facilities, could be an all day affair.
In the pool we met an incompetently rebellious couple who while touring the country always makes a point at visiting the bath house. I perhaps should put the visiting the bath house in quotations. I'll explain as they did. For many years they thought, despite the desperate signage, that Thermapolis couldn't be so desperate as to give away their world wonder for free, and given its legendary status the hot springs must be exorbitantly marked up, they would instead for free sit in self satisfaction over their gaming of the greedy capitalist in a trickle of the spring's muddy run off outside the park fence. After finally getting "caught" five years later they discovered their foolishness. Undeterred the Senior biker gang of two tacked on quite a few prohibited minutes to their 20 min allotment.
In the early evening we arrived in Casper and first stopped in at the Visitor Center to find out what there was to see in the town. We were awarded a ream of promotional propaganda, none of which proved useful. The women who helped us asked where we would be staying for the night and for some reason we answered honestly, though up until this point we have always been vague about our accommodations. She fell into horror and pity when hearing our overnight plans, we transforming into homeless drifters before her very eyes. (I guess we kind of are, but it seems different when it's chosen and planned). She then tried to retract the brochure for a $3 museum she had formerly recommended. She seems unaware that not only is every Walmart teeming with homes on wheels the size of whole Walmart departments, but that after investigating Casper's more traditional and visitor center approved lodging options, Walmart rated pretty high, with less-believe it or not-drug enthusiasts. This taught us a valuable lesson- you can live in a van and sleep at Walmart, you just can't tell anyone else about it. (Sounds like a mash up between "Fight Club" and "Where the Heart Is." A theoretically superior cinematic experience than "Young Adult." See below).
We tried to walk around downtown Casper and take in the town's historic buildings and sculptures but even with our competing tour maps it was pretty boring. This is a town not worth a second day. Nothing could keep us here. After a large walking loop of disappointment we scrapped the exploration and went back to Walmart to watch "Young Adult." In previews this movie had been touted a comedy with Charlize Theron and Patton Oswald but it wasn't funny. Oswald was good without being funny. (There were a couple of laughs and a nice moment towards the end when Theron and the viewer question what is really happening. Theron plays a completely unlikeable character. One with no depth. One so self centered you only get hints at what the other, more interesting, characters around her are like. This makes for a nice contrast between how Theron uses or ignores them and what you suspect is the truth, but her character can't carry the movie alone).
Petroglyphs at Legend Rock
Petroglyphs at Legend Rock
Petroglyphs at Legend Rock
Statue in downtown Casper
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