Night highway driving in Wyoming is kind of like cruising through the black maw of outer space. Even the temperatures are equal from time to time.
But when you live in a state with a population density of three or fewer people per square mile you'll understandably have plenty of elbow room on the interstates too, where, when manning your combustion-powered starship over the barren expanses, it's not uncommon to go miles without the presence of any fellow vehicular star pilots (I've never used my high beams so much on the interstate before).
And in my somewhat plentiful trips to and fro Denver (a three hour tour, one way) these past months for army banding and sundry other tomfoolry, I've performed the majority of my marauding at night. (If you've received a random evening phone call from me, it's likely I was in the car on one of these excursions)
I'll say my appreciation and understanding of Han Solo's plight is quite keen following my experiences. And while I don't have to worry about tractor beams or Imperial entanglements, I am also without the advent of hyperspace abilities. If only I could blast up to Wyoming from Colorado with a push of the nav computer's shiny "ENGAGE" button. But perhaps that will come in the future.
But to illustrate my traverses through the pitch tracts (where it's possible to completely forget you're still on our planet Earth), I'll throw out a few driving shots for the viewing pleasure.
I-25 cruising, somewhere between Cheyenne and Douglas on your average Sunday night. Not even a highway patrolman on this stretch. Thankfully I haven't hit any wildlife (a somewhat often occurrence around here it seems). A 800 lb. elk hood ornament isn't the kind of excitement I'm going for.
And then we switch the lights off on the interstate for a few second exposure in the ensuing darkness (kids, don't try this at home). Thankfully the moon was a ghostly galleon that night, providing ample illumination.
Also of note, the ol' Camry rolled over 200k on the odo just last week. I was mildly wowed and then offered a quick prayer to ask blessing upon my aging ride to not strand me squarely in no man's land.
Thus, driving in Wyoming, friends. Wyoming ranked seventh in the nation in population growth last year. Supposedly there's 29,000 more homeboys running around these plains, surging the total population to 522,000. Wherever they are I'm not seeing them. I think those census peeps are whack.