From the NYTs:
Last week I was in Wyoming, driving westward on the southern edge of a big winter storm. For dozens of miles, sheets of snow arced across the still-dry pavement. After a long while, I made out the welcome lights of Shoshoni. When you find yourself longing for the lights of Shoshoni — the glow of a gas station — you know the driving has been hard.
I joined a convoy of vehicles coming out of Riverton and up the hill past the Wind River Casino, which was shrouded in a nimbus of snow. We slithered along at school-zone speeds, barely 20 miles an hour. Across the highway, the drivers of two pickups climbed into the ditch to check on a car whose headlights were now pointing up at the overcast, snow corkscrewing down into the angled beams. At last, I came down the hill into Lander, where two feet of heavy autumn snow would fall in the next 36 hours.
Turtle Talk 