Basin to Cody

Hoping for a flatter day, Aunt Barbara and I drove Brian back to Manderson for the start of his ride. Driving back to the Lilac Motel, we caught up on family news and connected in a way that feeds my inner core. Aunt Barbara in many ways is a glue that binds together our family….if someone mentions an idea for a family reunion, she’ll gather and distribute information and put the energy behind an idea to make it happen…she’s a special blend of dreamer and doer. And she shares herself in the same way with friends and with co-workers….at one point someone exclaimed that "everybody should have an Aunt Barbara!"

We met up with Shelley who had ridden her bicycle 12 miles to the near ghost town of Otto and then we all met up with Brian for a quick lunch.   Thankfully, the ride was flat, the wind was a non-issue and he was clicking right along.

Anxious to get to Cody and get settled, we arrived to town feeling crowded as it was filled with RVs and tourists….guess we’d gotten used to the isolation of rural Wyoming. I can imagine the culture shock when Aunt Barbara returns to New York City.

As we checked in to the Ponderosa Campground, I told the camp host about Brian’s ride and the owner, Skip Robinson, donated one free night and shared with us the interesting story of her life. Her husband, and partner of 44 years sadly died last month, and she reminisced about their international adventures as they lived in Indonesia, Peru and Saudi Arabia. Having been evacuated from the first two countries after a political and military coup, they lived in the Mideast, ultimately as tour operators in the region. As her story progressed, she, Aunt Barbara and I huddled together, all of us near tears, which prompted a male employee to state there were no tissues and he couldn’t swim so we needed to change the topic of conversation!

Hearing the stories of the people we’ve encountered is one of the many treasures I’ve derived from this trip. Reaching out and sharing with total strangers now occurs daily. Spreading the word about mental illness is a conduit for connecting with people and it’s added depth and appreciation to my life.

Finding such contentment in simple pleasures had seemed, to me, usually reserved for those nearing the end of their life…either those who’ve lived many, many decades or those facing terminal illness. I feel so lucky to reach this level now.

Guess my pensive mood didn’t harmonize with the Rodeo that evening, and I found myself cheering loudly when the little calves escaped the lasso or when the horses bucked off their riders. I justified it by saying my father always rooted for the underdog at sporting events!