It is in hills and valleys West of Laramie, in fact, West of the Rockies – all the Rockies. It is the Western spirit land of open ranges, long distances, harsh realities, a yearning people. It is ever hopeful, and sometimes resentful. Sometimes admired for its wild spirit and somtimes wild individualism. It is what is left to us of the original land in which we play out our lives, the last living, breathing stage upon which we act, the final frontier for dreams and dreamers.
Come along and listen to the punctuated nights of coyotes. Find the Puma’s track across your yard, and perhaps your heart. Feel the firm hand of Nature in the land and on your lives. Face the spirits of the land. Face their children, face their destiny. Somewhere West of Laramie, there is that freedom of the horse and rider, the unfettered race against the wind and time. It is little wonder that the old Jordan Playboy car of the 20’s found that spirit touched so many with a classic image humanity could long for and relate to.
Somewhere West of Laramie 