Sheridan

I arrived in Sheridan tonight. The ride was a little bumpy, in a beechcraft 1900D. There is no door between the crew in the cockpit and the cabin, so I could see straight out the windshield. If you haven't ever seen the runway swaying 5 degrees to each side as you approach through the buffetting winds of the Powderhorns, you haven't lived. Or maybe you haven't narrowly escaped death. The seats don't recline, the heater is in the back only, and there are no tray tables. It keeps the safety brief short. Buckle up and turn off those cell phones.
The flight out was at an unmarked gate, no sign, no number. The information lady on the phone said gate 50, since neither Alaska nor Delta was able to help me. Big Sky Airlines was identified only by a young girl in a blue coat behind this unmarked gate. The Departures sign said it was gate C00. Not the most welcoming sign.
One of my favorite things about Wyoming is picking up 830 WCCO in the middle of the night. Unfortunately, it only comes in on the highway, in the lowlands I was getting Cat Country from Calgary. AM radio is part of the magic of the American outback.
I managed to find a Perkins down on Coffeen, though perhaps the foodies out there had been rooting for 'Daddio's Pizza' accross the street. I am a huge fan of the corn beef hash with hash browns and over easy eggs. It's the fastest way to fill your gut, and all the textures and flavours quickly meld together.
The airport is the smallest I have seen yet. I thought Columbia MO would hold that place, but it has been unseated. (I am not counting St Paul Isl, AK, but they don't get smaller than that.)
I hope the sun brings new joys to behold.