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Cowboy State Daily is Wyoming’s largest newspaper with Wyoming’s most experienced journalists. 

<title>Daily Smile: Sunday, November 10, 2024 | Cowboy State Daily</title>

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Daily Smile: Sunday, November 10, 2024

Headshot of Cowboy State Daily's business and tourism reporter, Renée Jean

Renée Jean

Tourism

Will Grant still has the two horses, Chicken Fry and Badger, that he rode across Wyoming in the summer of 2019 when he retraced all 2,000 miles of the Pony Express trail. 

Chicken Fry was born in New Mexico, and no one knows for sure how old he is.

“He’s had some hard miles on him,” Grant said. “Not a hard life, but plenty of work. So we rope off them a little bit, but not too much, and they’re like trail horses.”

Some of those hard trail miles happened in a landscape that deeply respects its roots. Wyoming, Grant told Cowboy State Daily,  has cared for its Pony Express Trail better than other states.

“You can see it there,” Grant said. “It’s very well marked in Wyoming. Very well marked.”

Mosquitoes in Jeffrey City are particularly bad, while South Pass can be freezing cold even in July. 

That’s left Grant wondering how Pony Express riders kept their feet and their hands warm, given that they were riding through South Pass in January of 1861.

“The winds through there are no joke,” he added.

These are just a few of the gritty details Grant learned about Wyoming as he rode through it on the back of a horse, surrounded by a vast, windswept sea of sagebrush. 

He had known from the outset that he would face the same brutal elements the pioneers did — shifting mud, relentless wind, desert conditions, mosquitoes, and the like.

But, as he wrote in his book, “The Last Ride of the Pony Express,” thinking about the hardships ahead of time and experiencing them firsthand are two very different things. 

That point became starkly clear under the flash of a sudden Wyoming summer storm. Grant and his two horses, he realized immediately, were the highest point on the landscape. They were walking targets clad in iron horseshoes. And there was nowhere for them to take cover. It was just miles of open sagebrush in every direction, as far as his eyes could see.

The crack of thunder overhead filled him with dread as he rode across the land in that gathering storm. He also gained a new appreciation for the 1860s couriers who wrote of learning to read the landscape in between blinding pulses of lightning strikes.

“I learned that the Pony Express as a mail service was a really impressive display of American entrepreneurship,” he said. “There’s no other country in the world that could have done the same thing given the same environmental parameters. There were no horses out there. There was no infrastructure on which to set up a fast horse mail relay over 2,000 miles to deliver a letter in 10 days.”

There were wild horses, and they were a huge danger to a lone rider managing two horses. Grant writes about that in his book, how careful he was to avoid either inciting an attack or losing his horses to that stallion’s wild harem.

The Mongols and the Romans and the Persians did have ancient horse relays to quickly traverse their kingdoms. But these were created in already civilized areas that their empires controlled, and those relays were fed and maintained by the full resources and might of those empires. 

America’s Pony Express was a business venture started completely from scratch, with no empire behind it at all, traversing a vast and empty land that was openly hostile. There were no resources from a surrounding empire to help them through all the places that lacked food, water and shelter. 

Pony Express riders didn’t wait for perfect conditions, though. They rode in all kinds of weather, making a 2,000-mile trip in a just 10 days. 

Grant took his time, compared to them. His journey lasted 142 nights.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Modern-Day Station Masters"}]

He also had something else the original 1860s riders didn’t. Wyoming ranchers — many of them descended from original homesteaders — who helped him all along the way, as did members of the modern-day Pony Express riders. The ranchers, in particular, were an informal network of modern-day station masters, ready and willing to help him all along the way.

Time and again, just as weather threatened to overwhelm him and his small string of horses, Grant would ride up on a private gate to find it already opened to him. The rancher before had let the next farm know he was on the way and to watch out for him.

These ranchers didn’t just grant him passage through their land. They would actively pull him out of a storm, offering secure pasture space and protection from the elements. There were often hot meals and a dry bunkhouse were included, as well as their stories.

“The traveling horseman still finds a lot of hospitality in Wyoming, I’ll tell you that,” Grant said. “People were good to me. Opening pasture gates, no worries. Really good people all along the way.”

There was the time a well-meaning rancher tried to talk him into taking an ornery mule with him … 

But warm hospitality and cheerful dinners and storytelling were more common. It was a powerful reminder that while the physical shelters of the 1860s may have crumbled, the human infrastructure of mutual aid remains intact across the Wyoming plains. It’s been actively kept alive behind the closed gates of modern cattle ranchers, many of whom are still living by the unwritten code of the West, handed down from one generation to the next.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Write What You Know"}]

Grant’s Pony Express ride wasn’t just a history fascination for him. He found in the ride a perfect intersection for the two halves of his life.

“I’m a journalist, and I mostly have been writing for magazines,” he said. “What I really wanted to do is write a book. The Pony Express emerged as a topic that I thought I could shed some light on because I worked as a horse trainer and a cowboy.”

Grant, born and raised in Littleton, Colorado, spent his summers cowboying on a ranch between Chugwater and LaGrange in Wyoming, studying under a foreman named Tim Sussex.

“Those were good years for me because Tim really showed me how to handle horses in a lot of different ways, but really how to be quiet with a horse,” he said. “That is the best thing you can do, get a ranch hand job on the wide open prairies of Wyoming.”

His first degree program was forestry and geology in Tennessee, after which he went back to horses, breaking colts in Larkspur, Colorado, then working for a ranch in Texas. 

In 2008, he went back to school to study journalism at University of Montana School of Journalism.

“I needed it,” he said. “I’d been training horses and doing ranch work for like eight years. I had to use a different part of my brain.”

When he went hunting for a book idea, the old writer’s advice — write what you know — stuck.

“I saw the Pony Express as a way to overlap my expertise with horses and write what you know,” he said. “I decided to dive into the Pony Express and I thought, ‘Well, obviously, I’m gonna have to just ride it. Travel it by horseback.’”

That, he added, was the “best summer of my life.” 

Even if it was the summer of 2019 — not the summer of ’69.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Trail Logic And Life"}]

Spending five months on the back of a horse gave him new perspectives on hardships and life. 

“When things are bad, you can expect they are going to get better,” he said. “If you have a bad camp, then the next night is almost certainly going to be better. And if you have two bad nights in a row, then your odds are even better that you’re headed for greener pastures.”

That simple trail logic helped him keep his morale intact through the inevitable stretches of cold and wet, hot and thirsty, tired and hungry all along the way.

He also learned more about his horses than he expected.

“I’ve been around horses my entire life,” he said. “But I learned a lot about their nonverbal communication. I learned you can tell a lot about a horse by listening to the way they walk.”

Any discomfort comes out in the sound of the hooves striking the ground.

He also noticed things about humans as well, including that they seem to care more about someone who is riding on the back of a horse than they do about someone who is on foot.

“They’re more likely to offer support because of the horses,” he said. “People cared about the wellbeing of the horses more than they cared about the wellbeing of me for sure. Having the animals with you opens up a lot of doors.”

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"The Next Book"}]

These days Grant lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico, where Chicken Fry and Badger have the run of the place, and Grant spends more time “wrangling sentences” than he does cattle.

He’s already knee-deep in his next book, which is about the ancestry of the American cowboy.

The research has already taken him to Mexico, Spain, and soon Morocco. Next summer he’ll tackle history that’s “closer to home.”

Whether that brings him back to Wyoming remains to be seen. But Wyoming will have its thread in the book regardless.

“I’ve got a lot of good Wyoming material built up over the years,” he said. “Horsebacking it across Wyoming for the Pony Express gave me a pretty good look at the country.”

And being a wrangler near Chugwater was a whole other dimension of the state and its cowboys.

After riding the Pony Express across Wyoming and sleeping under its stars, Grant may have left tracks that already blew away. But the stories Wyoming whispered to him in the night still live on, indelible memories that explain the code of the West in ways words never could.

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<title>Cowboy Rides All 2,000 Miles Of Pony Express, Says Wyoming Weather Overwhelming | Cowboy State Daily</title>

Cowboy and journalist Will Grant rode all 2,000 miles of the Pony Express trail on horseback. He said the trip gave him a newfound respect for Wyoming weather. Mosquitoes in Jeffrey City are bad, while South Pass can be freezing cold even in July. 

Cowboy Rides All 2,000 Miles Of Pony Express, Says Wyoming Weather Overwhelming

Wyoming Life

Food

Four decades ago, Chugwater was just one more dot on the map about to be swallowed by the modern economics of ranches consolidating and farms disappearing from “the flats.” 

It didn’t help when Interstate 25 came along in 1959 and whisked travelers past Main Street. By 1970, the population had dwindled to 188 residents.

The town didn’t take the trend lying down. They banded together to fight back and some of them did something a little audacious. 

Five ranching families decided to bottle up their town’s identity — grit, wind and all — and plaster it on a jar of Chugwater Chili spices.

“We were just trying to think of any kind of a business just to keep Chugwater alive,” Terry Baker recalled. “We were all farmers and ranchers who had been trying to think of ways we could help our Chugwater community survive. We just wanted to do our part, basically.”

The business those families started turns 40 this year. From its humble beginnings in a tiny, single-wide trailer, it’s now a large warehouse with a separate office/retail store that ships out hundreds of thousands of Chugwater Chili spice mixes and other products to 600 grocery stores across America.

Baker, a member of one of the five original ranching families, recalls a big brainstorming session that broke into groups at the school gymnasium to wrestle with ideas to help the town avoid vanishing.

Some of the ideas included a historical group, an economic development group and a beautification committee.

“So, like out of that, there’s little 'Welcome to Chugwater' signs that have planters around them now,” Baker said with a chuckle. “And the History Club is the best group and going still. It’s called Chugwater Historical Unity Group, or CHUG.”

Baker’s idea was for a mill that would turn the area’s hard red winter wheat into flour. But she and the other five ranchers were swayed by a completely different pitch, one that came not from Chugwater but from Cheyenne. An agricultural agent told them about a man named Dave Cameron who was a chili wizard, winning award after award at cook-offs.

For reasons known only to Cameron, he had branded his prizewinning recipe “Chugwater Chili” even though he lived in Cheyenne and had no formal tie to Chugwater. 

“I don’t remember all the ideas we took down,” Baker said. “But that particular one was not our idea at all.”

It was a compelling idea, though, and the ranchers embraced it — not least because Cameron had named his chili “Chugwater Chili.”

Baker doesn’t remember whether Cameron ever made them a pot of his award-winning chili to sell them on the idea of buying his recipe, but she does remember the very first championship cook-off. 

“We had thousands of people come out there to the Diamond Guest Ranch,” she said. “It was amazing.”

The festival was all part of an overall strategy to promote Chugwater’s newest business, and build a brand that would one day have national recognition.

Forty years later, the competition continues to be a magnet for the chili world. Many of the best chili cooks in the world call it a “bucket list” competition and make pilgrimages from as far away as Texas and Florida, just so they can say they have been there. 

After the Diamond Guest Ranch kids were grown, the event continued to grow but was moved into town, where it was placed at Staats City Park. 

Proceeds from the town’s signature event are donated each year to nonprofit organizations in town, from its volunteer fire department and community center to its FFA and FBLA youths. This year’s competition raised $17,000. 

The business, meanwhile, managed to ink several deals with restaurants that would exclusively serve Chugwater Chili.

“We made them sign an agreement that they wouldn’t add anything except our spices,” Baker said. “Because people so wanted to add I don’t know chili beans instead of pinto beans, which changes the flavor. You need to do just exactly what it says on the side of the container.”

That was another key piece in the strategy to build a business brand with longevity.

The company, formed by Jim and Marcelyn Brown, Lewis and Viola Voight, Dennis and Terry Baker, Jan and Carl Wilkerson, and Jim and Marc Kaufmann, was about as homegrown as it gets.

“They started packaging in bunkhouses on a ranch and also in basements,” Chugwater Chili’s present owner Karen Guidice told Cowboy State Daily. 

Eventually, they could afford a used mobile home for an office on Main Street.

The ranching families took turns staffing their new office and pitching in to help package bags and jars of chili spice for sale. Eventually, roughly 20 years ago, the business outgrew its single-wide and a modular home was purchased.

Guidice purchased the company 12 years ago after falling in love with the product.

She had been going to trade shows for the business to help promote the product. The word she heard most often was “Wow,” followed by “This is the best chili I’ve ever tasted.”

The product practically sold itself with a single sample. 

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"The Smell Of Christmas"}]

When she learned the owners were thinking about selling the company, she decided she wanted to be its new steward. That would be the best way to ensure the town’s namesake would go on helping Chugwater.

Under Guidice’s leadership, the company has grown an average of 25% each year, she told Cowboy State Daily, and it continues to add employees to handle the increased volume. 

In 2026, Guidice built a new warehouse and dedicated manufacturing area beside the original building, creating a footprint about six times the original mobile-home office.

Each jar of spice is still packed in Chugwater and the business now has at least four full-time positions and several part-time as well as seasonal Christmas positions.

The smell of Christmas for Guidice and her employees is chili, because that’s their busiest time. Orders pour in from all over the country for gifts of Chugwater Chili and other products, like its salsa or its dip and dressing mix. 

The store, meanwhile, has a fresh pot of chili going every day. That way any customers can taste-test on the spot.

Chugwater Chili has had many national shoutouts. Perhaps the best-known of these is in New York times bestselling author Craig Johnson’s first “Longmire” novel, “Cold Dish,” where it’s spotlighted as a favorite of a certain sheriff named Walt Longmire. Johnson has told Chugwater Chili that Walt would “definitely” be a Chugwater Chili fan in one of the company’s blogs, and that he’d eat it with a “healthy dollop of sour cream, cheese and green onions.”

But that’s not the only time Chugwater Chili has been recognized nationally. The Food Network spotlighted it in a feature showcasing the 50 States of Nachos, where it praised the ground beef nachos served at the Chugwater Soda Fountain, which are infused with the company’s award-winning secret seasoning recipe.

The Scovie Awards has also recognized the brand numerous times, most recently giving it second place in the stews/chili con carne category and third place for all-purpose dry rub/seasoning.

Several national grocers also carry the brand, including Safeway, Albertsons, King Soopers, and Smith’s Food and Drug.

And then there’s all the status brought by the nationally recognized Chugwater Chili Cookoff qualifier through the Chili Appreciation Society’s International. From there, winners can leapfrog straight into the national championship in Terlingua, Texas.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"A Recipe For The Future"}]

Chugwater Chili is one of a handful of businesses in Chugwater that have helped keep the town from disappearing.

A small local economy has even been taking shape of late. There’s a food-hospitality cluster that includes the Chugwater Soda Fountain, which is Wyoming’s oldest working soda fountain with old-fashioned malts and ranch burgers, The Stampede Eatery with live music every Friday and Saturday night, and the Buffalo Lodge near the interstate.

There are also core services now, including the state’s first authorized charter school, a Wyoming Department of Transportation facility with a sizable staff, Chugwater Fuels, the Tri-County Mercantile with community essentials, and a fashion store called B & B Vintage that recently opened.

Some businesses, such as Tri-County Mercantile and the restored Soda Fountain, came about from much the same sentiment as Chugwater Chili. They’re owned by people who were newer to town, but loved the community and wanted to give back and see it grow stronger.

Their efforts at revival seem to be working, slowly but surely. The 2020 census estimated a population of 175, but more recent estimates put the number at 228. That compares to a peak of 287 in the 1960 Census.

Looking out at the next 40 years for Chugwater Chili, Guidice is pragmatic — apropos for a business that sells a practical and easy recipe for a quick and tasty meal.

“We’re going to continue growing, and offering a great product to a lot of people in the United States,” she said. “The more we grow, the more we can offer.”

That’s a recipe for the future that is still continuing to serve in a tiny, windswept town along I-25 that refuses to quietly disappear.

Chugwater Chili unnamed 2 8 9 26

<title>Chugwater Chili at 40: How Five Families Came Together And Saved Chugwater | Cowboy State Daily</title>

When agriculture took a nosedive in the 1980s, five ranching families in tiny Chugwater, Wyoming, decided to do something about it. They formed a company called Chugwater Chili, and 40 years later the chili — and the town — are still going strong.

Chugwater Chili at 40: How Five Families Came Together And Saved Chugwater

CHEYENNE — “Potential” is the word T-Joe’s Steakhouse owner Sherrie Lyle thought of the first time she saw the quirky cluster of 1910-era buildings slowly but surely giving way to time and the elements on the city's distressed west side. 

“It’s just these historic, colorful buildings,” she told Cowboy State Daily. “A quirky space. I like it.”

The property was owned by someone else the first time Lyle noticed it, but after those plans fell through Lyle and her children Molly and Jason decided to place an $850,000 bet on the “Ful-O-Pep” grain elevator corner. They believe they can transform it into a cool new destination for Cheyenne.

“It will take a little work,” Lyle acknowledged. “But it won’t take very long.”

Lyle is no stranger to running successful businesses. Her T-Joe’s Steakhouse is a busy restaurant that’s been voted “best steak” a time or two in Laramie County. 

Lyle is confident in this project because she’s already lined up a bakery shop owner who wants to lease the red mini-Victorian home once it’s fixed up. 

She also already has a jewelry shop owner interested in the little green cottage and an antique dealer who wants to turn the carriage house — now just storage — into a shop.

The Blossom Yoga Studio and a neighboring dress shop will stay put and keep operating. Together they’re already covering a substantial portion of the mortgage payment, Lyle said.  

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Liquor-License Bust"}]

The only building with an undecided fate is the 1912 “Ful-O-Pep” grain elevator, which once anchored a redevelopment attempt called the Old Cheyenne Elevator. 

“They had a beautiful idea for a restaurant here,” Lyle said, referring to the former owners. “But they didn’t get the liquor license, so that’s why they sold the place.”

That earlier group, operating as Ful-O-Pep LLC, envisioned a private dining room inside the elevator with a bar out front and a drive-through food-truck court. But their concept required a coveted full retail liquor license. 

They were up against 11 competitors for a single available license, and they ultimately lost. 

Ful-O-Pep’s owners did look at alternative liquor licenses, including the more attainable bar and grill license. But that option mandates a permanent commercial kitchen as well as food sales that are at least 70% of total revenue. 

Retrofitting a 110-year-old elevator with a modern commercial kitchen would have been dramatically more expensive than their original plan, which relied on rotating food trucks instead, so the dream stalled. The property went back on the market, until Lyle stepped in.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"A Non-Chain Sandwich Shop"}]

Lyle’s first priority is the red mini-Victorian, a place she said has caught people’s eyes for years. 

It’s always been a residence, never a business, but with the mixed-use zoning for the area, it can become a bakery. 

Inside, the walls and floors are in rough shape, with layers of “landlord fixes” meant to disguise problems instead of fixing them. 

It’s being stripped back to the studs and will be rebuilt with better spacing for a coffee shop bakery/deli. Lyle, who grew up in New Jersey, said she’s dreaming of real deli sandwiches — Cubans, thick pastrami, and maybe even her favorite: liverwurst on rye.

“There isn’t a non-chain sandwich shop in town,” she said. “So we can do something that feels different here.”

Next door, the green cottage, which looks small and quaint from the front, will become a jewelry shop. 

Its tiny front is a bit of an optical illusion. The sides are long, giving it 1,000 square feet of overall space — enough, perhaps for an art studio.

In the midst of all that, there’s the carriage house, now serving as storage, which Lyle believes will be just right for an antique shop.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"A Train Should Go There"}]

The elevator, a wild card right now, will be the last building Lyle and her family work on. 

But it was the first building that caught her attention because of the unused railroad spur along the edge of the property. 

“I saw this and I saw these little train tracks, which are obviously not being used,” she said. “And I said, ‘That’s where I’m putting a train car, right there.’”

Since then, she’s learned the property line doesn’t include the track. But she’s hoping to work something out with the railroad company, because she wants to have a railroad coffeeshop there, similar to one she’s seen in Nederland, Colorado.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Railroad Agreement Pending"}]

Mayor Patrick Collins and City Councilman Pete Laybourne are among city officials excited about what Lyle is doing on Cheyenne’s west side. 

For years, the city has been working on this area, which is part of the Reed Avenue Corridor, hoping to turn a dusty industrial strip with decaying, empty buildings into a greenway-style promenade where people can walk, bike, shop, and dine among repurposed, revitalized, historic warehouses.

“The dirt road that has a railroad track running down the middle of it is eventually going to become a promenade, like a greenway-type trail,” Collins told Cowboy State Daily. “We’re really hoping to bring a lot of those old buildings along there back to life.’

The city has been chipping away at that idea ever since voters approved a sixth-penny tax in 2017. Now there is federal rail money on the table, as well as a critical agreement with the BNSF pending. They own the rights of way.

“I just met with them, and we had a great meeting in my office,” Collins said. “And they really have shared that they’re 100% with us on this. All we’ve got to do is get the final plans to them, so they can sign off that they agree.”

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"A Passion Project"}]

Laybourn told Cowboy State Daily that Reed Avenue Corridor is a “passion project” for him and said Lyle’s purchase helps show how committed people in Cheyenne are to improving that area of town.

“I grew up over on Warren,” he said. “I used to ride my bike down here and go down to the creek where we began the greenway right here at Martin Luther King Park.”

Laybourn said Cheyenne has been trying to revitalize the area for 50 to 60 years. 

The city’s present project took so long, he added, because there was a misunderstanding about who owned the right of way. 

“I wasn’t on the council when they did that,” he said. “I’m not one of the visionaries who had that idea. But I’m one of the people who has to make it work, and we’re getting a lot closer.”

Inside the elevator, Lyle’s eyes light up when she talks about saving old buildings the “right” way.

She plans to preserve as much of the original hardware and textures as she can — the old grain scale, wooden beams, carved initials from the 1960s, and even the boxcar boards that railcar restorer Mike Pannell has pointed out to her. 

Lyle jokes that “all the kids’ college money” is tied up in this bet on the West Side, but she’s only half-kidding. It’s a serious investment, and serious vote of confidence, in a part of town that’s been in danger of seeing more demolition than dreams in recent times. 

“I’d like to see this renovated and a really pretty space,” she said. “And it’s always fun to be doing something.”

If the vision pans out, it will be a place where people can buy a New Jersey-style deli sandwich in a charming restored red Victorian house, pick out a ring in a little green cottage, browse antiques in a carriage house, take a yoga class, and maybe, someday, sip coffee in a railroad car parked beside a freshly repainted “Ful-O-Pep” grain elevator. 

Then Lyle will be able to say the corner once stalled by liquor laws and bad timing is living up to the word that first came to her mind when she saw it — potential.

West side 20260804 105521 8 9 26

<title>Cheyenne Woman Saving 1910-Era Grain Elevator Wants To Resurrect City’s West Side | Cowboy State Daily</title>

The owner of T-Joe’s Steakhouse in Cheyenne just spent $850,000 on a cluster of 1910-era buildings that includes the old Ful-O-Pep grain elevator to resurrect the city’s west side. “It will take a little work, but it won’t take very long,” she said.

Cheyenne Woman Saving 1910-Era Grain Elevator Wants To Resurrect City’s West Side

Jen Kocher - Headshot CSD

Jen Kocher

Kolby fedore

Kolby Fedore

Crime & Courts

Public Safety

The last thing she remembered was walking into circuit court. To numb the dread, Lisa had smoked fentanyl and swallowed a couple more pills before the hearing.

How do you explain turning to the very thing that’s killing you? For her, it was her daughter’s face: The look in her eyes as she realized, even before the judge spoke, that her mother wasn’t coming home. 

That look broke something nothing could repair for Lisa, a woman in her 30s from southern Wyoming who asked to remain anonymous.

“It’s insane,” Lisa said four years later. “The thing that was wrecking me was the only thing I trusted to make the pain stop.”

Her memory of that day broke into pieces: Shaking in front of the bench, the van ride to jail, then strangers leaning over her, pounding her chest. She woke in a hospital with a naloxone drip in her arm. 

They told her later about the Narcan shots and the deputy who’d refused to give up on her.

That was what finally scared her sober. That, and the silence from her daughter, her family — the relationships she’s spent years trying to mend.

“Fentanyl isn’t a high. It’s a terrible way to live,” Lisa said. “Worse than anything else.”

She started because people around her said it was cheaper and didn’t show up on probation drug tests. But once you’re hooked, the sickness that follows keeps you coming back — even if it wrecks your life. 

[{"type":"text","text":"Even if it kills you."}]

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Wyomingites Dying From It"}]

For years, fentanyl has dominated America's overdose crisis. The powerful synthetic opioid has largely replaced heroin in many illegal drug markets and has been found disguised as prescription painkillers, hidden in counterfeit Xanax tablets and mixed into cocaine and methamphetamine.

It’s also costing a lot of lives in Wyoming and elsewhere.

 provided by the Wyoming Department of Health, around 350 Wyoming residents died of an opioid-related overdose. Of these, more than 90% were unintentional.

The demographic hardest hit during this five-year period was men and women ages 35 to 39, which accounted for about 60 of those deaths, followed by those between the ages of 25 and 29 equaling about 42 overdose deaths.

The bulk of these overdoses occurred in Sweetwater County at about 29.4 deaths per 100,000 residents, or an estimated 61 lives lost due to opioid overdoses. This was followed by Fremont County at 18.2 deaths per 100,000 residents.

That number appears to be growing in 2026, with the Cheyenne Police Department issuing  a warning in April of an uptick in overdoses, including five in less than a week. 

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"}],"text":"Two were fatal."}]

Waking up in a hospital with a naloxone drip in her arm after an overdose finally scared Lisa sober, and she's now warning people about the growing access to fentanyl in Wyoming. "It's a terrible way to live, worse than anything else," she says.

Daily Smile: Sunday, November 10, 2024

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