Scene from the bedroom window at the Hampton Inn, Sheridan, Wyoming:

Yesterday we took our time getting up. No rushing to get on the road (that will be for next week). Instead we acted like tourists and spent an hour walking around downtown Sheridan, which is a huge town with a vibrant main street. We even spent some time in the local music store, talking to the owners who are into bluegrass music. There was a great deal of “banjo chat” but I was busy signing the guest book and putting a pin on Rhode Island on the map by the front door.

I looked at my watch and realized that Hope Mountain Blues was gathered at our weekly music lesson and I wasn’t there.  Sigh.  At least I was in a music store, right?

I didn’t find any stores that sold cowboy boots.

Here’s the mannequin in the window of a secondhand store that didn’t have much inside of it except for the owner, who played his guitar and harmonica and seemed to be practicing for something.

Back on the road: It would look like this for the rest of the day.

This morning we are on our way to North Platte, Nebraska, only 222 miles east of here. It’s time to get off the road and visit with family for 24 hours.

Last night we went downtown (in Cheyenne, Wyoming) and ate at Sanford’s Pub, a huge restaurant with a huge menu. Banjo Man was so happy. He loved everything about that restaurant, which was decorated in a wild, funky, trash-heap way.

This makes two nights in a row that we’ve gone out to dinner “downtown”. I’m happy with yogurt in the room, or take-out sandwiches from Subway. I love hotel rooms. I hate to leave them to get BACK IN THE CAR to wander around trying to find a good place to eat.

Banjo Man, on the other hand, likes to explore new places to eat. I blame all those food shows on cable tv.  He watches a lot of them.

We have realized we didn’t pack very well.  I am now wearing shorts, and I have no idea if it’s cold outside or not.  Banjo Man had to go back to the car and rummage around in duffle bags until he found socks and underwear.  The car is so loaded up with stuff that we tend to laugh uncontrollably every morning when we look at the back seat.

It’s a little embarrassing.  I now point out large vans and say that is what we need for next year.   In the “way back” we have a guitar, a lap steel guitar, a banjo and a violin.  We also have a painting, assorted music books, kitchenware, a quilt-in-progress and assorted bags of clothes and cowboy boots.   We both have our “offices” with us, which adds to the piles of bags in the back seat.  We even have an extra bag for shoving stuff in when we don’t know what it is or if we need it or if it’s important and we’ve run out of room.

We need to repack in Nebraska.

It is insane.  I admit it.