WIND, WIND AND MORE WIND IN THE WILLOWSLET'S SEE, AFTER MOSQUITOES, GRIZZLY BEARS, AND INCESSANT ROAD CONSTRUCTION, there's something else those of us who love Wyoming must all-too-often contend with: WIND. I put it in caps because we don't have wimpy wind here. No, it's world class wind, fierce wind, often gale force with gusts up to 30-55 mph. Like today and yesterday.
Perhaps it's the air currents coming off the desert floors of Nevada then through the jagged terrain of the Rockies---here in Jackson Hole it's the Tetons on the western side of the valley) that somehow ratchets up the velocity, then chinooks it till it almost consumes everything we do.
Summer days often start off sunny, cool and calm. You wake up and get your hopes up that it'll stay that way. Then about noon when air close to the ground warms and rises, it begins to churn as it pushes high, cool air downward. The air rodeo has begun. It can last until the sun goes down, if we're lucky. If we're not, like last night, it can go on till midnight. But whatever we're doing---work or play---it gets our attention. And keeps it.
Needless to say strong winds are an anathema to anyone who's fly fishing. It's especially hard for novices-----just off the calm Orvis casting ponds in the East---who've flown in for a week to get some hands-on practice. Lord, it can be frustrating to come out here with shiny new equipment and have to cast all day in this kind of mayhem.
Yesterday and today have been about as windy as it gets. I sure wouldn't want to have paid $500 for a guided float trip in this. But fly fishing is the least of my wind worries today. I fret endlessly about planes landing and taking off in this kind of wind.
Later today I have company arriving on a flight from Dallas. One of my next door neighbors who flew in from LA yesterday told me the wind was so bad as they approached the airport that the pilot had to circle and circle until he could finally bring the plane in for a safe landing.
I shudder to think what such an approach will be late this afternoon. I always pray family and friends get here, then home, safely. After that I pray they're not ashen when they walk through the terminal door. After that, I take them to the bar at Dornans to have something to calm their nerves. And then we wait for the wind to c-a-l-m- d-o-w-n. Way, way down.
So remember, if you don't like world-class winds, then you might not like summers in Wyoming. For me, though, it hasn't deterred me in over two decades. I haven't yet been blown away.
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Today when I walked over to catch a pic of Fish Creek above, I crawled under the fence and into the pasture of the big cattle ranch. They still raise the finest grass-fed beef cattle anywhere. Anyway, it amuses me what happens when these cows suddenly see someone like me standing there with my camera. Endlessly curious and friendly, they watch for a moment, then begin to herd themselves into a massive group all of them staring in unison at me, an impostor. Then they begin their slow march closer and closer for a better look.
They move in even closer, crowding each other to see who gets to me first. Actually they are rather adorable gals. I wouldn't have been able to stand there and stay put if I'd seen a big bull. I talk to them and say I have no sugar, no salt....it's only a camera. Nothing deters their curiousity..... Until I finally turn and walk away towards the stream. Then they begin to disperse and go back to grazing. Life is good for a beef cow here in the Valley, especially at this ranch.
At ease, ladies, at ease.
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