Crossing Wyoming

By Eilene Lyon

We’re rolling westward on Interstate 80 in southern Wyoming, on our way to do breeding bird surveys along a proposed transmission line route. The rising sun is adding fire to the stratus clouds hanging low in the sky. Our Ford Super Duty truck passes plains and low hills draped in sagebrush and greasewood, populated by scattered pronghorn. In a land devoid of trees, we see power poles march off into the distance, sporting an occasional raptor.

We pull off the highway and onto a dirt two-track. Though we can still hear the hum of passing semis, I can’t help but think of the emigrant trains that passed through this state in 1849 – some headed to Oregon, but most in a rush to find gold in California. Perhaps ten thousand that year; five times that the following one.

Fifty miles north of where we’re working is South…