At the shoulder of a Wyoming county road, a stately cottonwood stands. In its time, this grayed monarch has seen cavalry and Indians; horsemen and homesteaders; dudes, dreamers, and sight-seers. Daily viewed but seldom noticed in the passing, this old tree carries a special story of its own. A huge scar mars its roadside bark, and therein lies the tale of the Purple Burp. (more…) Continue Reading →
