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Love for my hometown
- By Michelle Ramirez
- Trail Staff Writer
- I made it to the edge of town just as the sun dipped below the horizon. I had driven this road a thousand times, maybe more. I will probably drive it a thousand more.
I headed southbound on I-25 heading towards Cheyenne, my hometown, I was overcome with a feeling of sadness that I had abandoned her. The town that raised me from a child, the town that held many cold nights at Lion’s Park, the town that brought drunk idiots from every corner of the world for one week out of the year – my hometown. Despite the fact I had left it all behind, I was welcomed with a road that would lead me home.
Growing up, I always thought Wyoming was the most boring place to live. I wanted to live in a metropolis, surrounded by people passing in the street. I wanted to get lost in the sea of cars and cement. There just had to be more excitement in a city like New York, Chicago or even Denver.
What I didn’t take into consideration was the fact that I lived in one of the only remaining regions in the country that wasn’t crawling with people.
I could walk the streets, past the neon lights and century-old buildings without worrying about my well-being. I never had to sit through hours of traffic jams just to get to work and back. In my hometown, I could drive in any direction for about 20 minutes, just as the sun was about to set and watch the sky turn into a divine canvas with every shade of orange you could imagine.
Wyoming is relatively untouched, despite the government’s best efforts to rape the land of its natural resources.
I’m not sure why I suddenly changed my attitude towards that Old West milieu we call home. I suppose it has something to do with growing up, or at least that is what my parents tell me. Maybe it was watching two of my three brothers lose every possession they ever had or had been given and survive to tell me about it. All the glamorous things that come with city life can’t match up to the fortune I have in my life in Wyoming.
The hardest part is watching your city and your friends and your family change while you are gone. The things that seemed all too familiar are now foreign and awkward. However, I can’t wait to see what the future holds, good or bad. No matter what, I will still take refuge from the crudeness of reality in my hometown.
- Trail Staff Writer