One More For The Road

Cowboy State Daily's Wendy Corr traded her RV in for a new sports car. Unfortunately, there was a learning curve.....

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<title>One More For The Road: Tuesday, February 11, 2025 | Cowboy State Daily</title>

One More For The Road: Tuesday, February 11, 2025

 Cowboy State Daily's Wendy Corr traded her RV in for a new sports car. Unfortunately, there was a learning curve.....

Headshot of Cowboy State Daily's Feature Reporter, Andrew Rossi.

Andrew Rossi

Wyoming Life

Around Wyoming

When Carolyn Gose Foster went to open her family’s storage unit in Powell, she could tell something was wrong. When she finally managed to get it open, the object she was most worried about was gone.

It wasn’t jewelry or furniture. It was a massive, 60-million-year-old petrified log from the ranch her family homesteaded in eastern Wyoming.

“That was such a blow to the gut for me,” Foster told Cowboy State Daily. “My dad was always afraid someone would steal it, and we told him no one could ever steal it. We never laughed at my dad, except about that.”

Foster isn’t concerned about the monetary value of the petrified log. She just wants her family heirloom back.

“It’s a matter of heart,” she said. “It connects me to my father, my family, and the ranch we homesteaded. I was floored.”

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Petrified Wood Purloined"}]

The petrified log was in one of two storage units rented by Foster’s parents at Branch Line Storage in Powell. They used to have five units, but the other three and all of their contents were lost in a fire in 2020.

Foster, who lives outside Denver, Colorado, swung up to Powell to look in on the units when she was in the Bighorn Basin for work this week. She immediately sensed something was amiss when she approached.

“When I drove up to work on my parents' storage, and I couldn't get the door open,” she said. “It had been pushed off the side rails on both sides, so it was jammed.”

That’s when she noticed “a shiny new lock” on the door that she’d never seen before. Strangely, the new lock had the same combination as the old one.

When she managed to open the unit, her worst fear was realized. Her father’s petrified log was gone, and someone had gone through a lot of effort to get it.

“You could see the scour marks on the concrete floor,” she said. “They didn’t just mark it. They put grooves in the concrete.”

Foster assumes whoever stole the log must have used a winch to remove it from the unit. It’s the only way her father could move it.

“It was impossible to move by hand, no matter how many people,” she said. “It was too heavy and dense. They had to have used a winch or heavy lifting equipment.”

[{"type":"text","text":"The log wasn’t the only object stolen from the unit."}]

According to Foster, the other items missing include an antique double-handed copper boiler, filled with pieces of petrified wood and agate, a cream can, and a set of deer antlers.

Naturally, Foster hopes to recover everything, but nothing matters more than that heavy piece of  petrified wood.

[{"type":"text","text":"“I never thought anyone would steal it,” she said."}]

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Eyes On The Skies"}]

Robert Oren Gose was a Wyomingite with an exceptionally accomplished career. 

He was born on the Gose family ranch, which straddled Crook and Weston counties, in 1921.

He joined the U.S. Air Force during World War II, serving as a B-24 bomber pilot and lead combat pilot in the Eighth Air Force — known as the “Mighty Eighth” — through the end of the war. 

He went on to be a flight instructor and test pilot during the Korean War.

After earning a Master of Science degree in jet propulsion engineering from the California Institute of Technology, Gose worked for several aerospace and energy companies. 

He helped develop the MINUTEMAN I, II, and III ICBM weapon systems and collaborated with NASA as the agency prepared for and eventually launched the Apollo missions.

“He credited the one-room schoolhouse on the ranch, with only his siblings as classmates, as being what got him started and made it possible for him to achieve so much,” Foster said.

After retiring from aerospace, Gose served as joint chair and CEO of the Wyoming Business Council. Even after he moved out of Wyoming, he remained highly respected in the Cowboy State.

“He was honored by the commander of the 20th Air Force in Cheyenne about 10 years ago,” Foster said. “He loved propulsion, working cattle, and being part of the fabric of Wyoming.”

Gose loved the historic homestead where he grew up, which was first settled by his ancestors. He worked as much and as often as he could while pursuing his career.

Selling the ranch in his twilight years “broke his heart,” according to Foster.

“He hated selling the last part of the ranch, but he was in his late 90s and wasn’t in the  physical shape to run it anymore,” she said.

[{"type":"text","text":"Gose died in Littleton, Colorado, on Sept. 15, 2020. He was 98 years old."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"“He was an amazing man,” Foster said."}]

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Artifact, Heirloom, Touchstone"}]

Foster said her father found the massive chunk of petrified wood on the family ranch decades ago. It was probably from the trunk of a 60-million-year-old metasequoia, as

 fossilized forests of these prehistoric redwoods

 are scattered throughout northern Wyoming.

“It was very dense and beautiful, and he really valued it,” she said. “Wherever my parents moved, he always moved with them.”

Gose and his wife, Vivienne, lived in Powell for a time. The log ended up in one of their storage units, and Foster oversaw it when her parents decided to move out of state.

Foster was devastated to see that it had been stolen in what, she assumes, was a targeted theft. 

“Someone knew exactly where it was,” she said. “I checked with the owner and the manager, and they said that there had never been thefts there. I made a report with the Park County Sheriff’s Office, and nothing’s come of it.”

Foster has shared images of the petrified log in the hopes someone will let her know if they’ve seen it. She said it was stolen within the last year, since that’s how much time had elapsed since her visits to the storage units in Powell.

Foster isn’t interested in the scientific or monetary value of the lost log. For her, it’s a sentimental “touchstone” to her family and their history, both the good times and the bad.

“My brother, Robert, died on our ranch when he was 19 and I was 17,” she said. “We were very close, and I never got to say goodbye. That’s why I cherished that thing. It was my connection to my late parents, my brother, and our ranch. It was my touchstone.”

Petropfied log stolen inset IMG 5304 5 30 26

<title>Huge 60-Million-Year-Old Petrified Log Stolen From Powell Family's Storage Unit | Cowboy State Daily</title>

Someone has stolen a massive, 60-million-year-old piece of petrified wood from a storage unit in Powell. “My dad was always afraid someone would steal it,” said the daughter of the WWII pilot who treasured the artifact, which had become a family heirloom.

Huge 60-Million-Year-Old Petrified Log Stolen From Powell Family's Storage Unit

Employee kate meadows cropped

Kate Meadows

Most drivers barreling down Interstate 90 in South Dakota’s near Exit 170 don’t expect to see a giant human skeleton walking a Tyrannosaurus rex on a leash.

[{"type":"text","text":"But there they do."}]

The towering roadside sculptures rise from the prairie just east of 1880 Town, an eclectic collection of buildings courtesy of a movie company’s failed venture that turned into a piece of living South Dakota history.

A massive iron skeleton of a human really is leading an iron T. rex skeleton across the South Dakota grasslands like an oversized prehistoric dog.

And the whole thing started with one man who simply wanted a dinosaur and the founder of 1880s Town, the late Clarence Hullinger.

“He always wanted to build a dinosaur,” said Scott Key, who has helped with 1880s Town operations for roughly 45 years. “When he was in his 80s he finally got around to it.”

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"A Dinosaur Dream"}]

Years earlier, when the famous T. rex fossil Sue was discovered in Montana in 1990, Hullinger wished South Dakota had a dinosaur skeleton it could claim for its own.

[{"type":"text","text":"So, he decided to build one himself."}]

His vision included a life-sized human skeleton attached to the beast by a leash.

The sculptures eventually took shape on property near 1880 Town, the sprawling roadside attraction west of Murdo filled with historic prairie buildings, antiques and Old West memorabilia.

The dinosaur itself had absolutely nothing to do with the carefully recreated frontier town.

[{"type":"text","text":"That fact mattered to some family members."}]

“My brother never wanted the dinosaur skeleton anywhere near the town,” said Tim Hullinger, who operates the American Inn in Murdo. “He said it didn’t fit.”

[{"type":"text","text":"Clarence, however, had an answer ready."}]

“My dad said the dinosaurs were there before 1880, so it fits,” Tim said.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Building A Prairie T. rex"}]

Clarence assembled the skeletons using scrap iron and drawings as a guide, but there was one part of the dinosaur he planned to keep simple: the head.

Clarence’s plan was to cut the skull from flat sheet metal. Tim said he thought the dinosaur deserved something more realistic.

“He was going to cut it out flat,” Tim said. “I said, ‘No, it needs to be three-dimensional.’”

[{"type":"text","text":"So Tim volunteered to build the head himself."}]

Over about four days, he cut holes into sheet metal and hammered the steel into shape by hand before welders assembled the final structure.

Today, the dinosaur’s head still gives the sculpture much of its personality, somewhere between terrifying predator and oversized roadside mascot.

The skeleton man and his skeleton dinosaur pet seem to be heading to 1880 Town, but whether that was intentional is anyone’s best guess.

So Strange People Tried Stopping On The Interstate

The sculptures quickly became a roadside phenomenon. Drivers slowed down. Some stopped altogether.

According to both Key and Hullinger, the state eventually installed “No Parking” signs on I-90 near the sculptures because too many tourists were pulling over along the interstate shoulder to snap photos.

“The only thing we get questions about is if people can walk out there,” Key said.

[{"type":"text","text":"The answer is no."}]

The sculptures were never meant to be explored up close. The land around them is fenced, and visitors are discouraged from stopping along the interstate.

Instead, the giant skeleton and his dinosaur are intended as a drive-by curiosity — something motorists glimpse at 80 mph before wondering if they imagined it.

[{"type":"text","text":"Apparently, people remember it."}]

At one point, Tim received a photo from Italy showing someone wearing a T-shirt featuring the famous skeletons.

[{"type":"text","text":"The family had never made or sold such a shirt."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"“I have no idea where the T-shirt came from,” Tim said."}]

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"How 1880 Town Began"}]

The dinosaur sculptures may steal attention from passing motorists, but the attraction they stand beside has its own unusual history.

The roots of 1880 Town date back to 1969, when Richard Hullinger —  Tim's brother — purchased 14 acres at Exit 170 near Murdo. Initially, there were no plans for a tourist attraction.

[{"type":"text","text":"A gas station came in 1972."}]

Then a movie production company arrived nearby to film an 1880s-era movie. The company built a frontier-style main street set and borrowed Indian artifacts and antiques from Clarence Hullinger.

[{"type":"text","text":"Winter weather shut the production down before filming was completed."}]

When the movie company abandoned the project, it gave the western set to the Hullinger family.

[{"type":"text","text":"That’s when 1880 Town was born."}]

Over the decades, the attraction grew into a collection of authentic prairie buildings and artifacts from the late 1800s and early 1900s, including a one-room schoolhouse, barns, shops and antique collections.

Visitors can also come face-to-face with animals commonly found in the region during the 1880s: horses, chickens, ducks — and even a camel.

Still, for many travelers speeding across South Dakota, the first thing they remember is the skeleton walking a dinosaur through the prairie grass.

[{"type":"text","text":"Honestly, that’s probably exactly what Clarence Hullinger hoped for."}]

T rex on a leash 471761113 10160610337881475 3683588698791023165 n 5 30 26

<title>Near Wyoming: The Skeleton Who Walks A Giant T-Rex On A Leash In South Dakota | Cowboy State Daily</title>

For decades, motorists speeding down Interstate 90 in west-central South Dakota have done double takes at a towering human skeleton leading a T. rex on a leash. It’s a quirky prairie creation born from one man’s lifelong dream to build his own dinosaur.

Near Wyoming: The Skeleton Who Walks A Giant T-Rex On A Leash In South Dakota

Kolby fedore

Kolby Fedore

CASPER — More than a year after Gloria Fuller’s death, her daughters have begun dismantling a world she spent nearly 80 years building.

Down in their mother's basement, beneath exposed studs, cobwebs and insulation, they found a vintage 1950s Coldspot refrigerator still humming with life.

Glowing softly in the dim light like a mirage of mid-century America, the old appliance not only was still running, still held 30-year-old cans of Schlitz — cold to the touch.

In another life, the refrigerator held grenadine, soda bottles and trays of hors d’oeuvres for the cocktail gatherings Fuller hosted downstairs. 

Angie Hoven, one of Fuller’s daughters, remembers her mother as a meticulous hostess.

“She was well-known,” Hoven said with a chuckle, tears welling in her eyes.

If refrigerators could talk, this one would recall laughter rising through smoke, the crack of ice trays and somebody asking Gloria for “just one more” drink before heading home, Hoven said.

Now it sits in a basement frozen between eras, still doing the job it was built to do nearly 75 years ago.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"The Machine That Wouldn’t Die"}]

The Coldspot itself belongs to another chapter of American manufacturing entirely.

Built by Sears before Kenmore overtook the brand, the refrigerator represents the thick steel, rounded-edge philosophy of postwar appliances — heavy, mechanical and intentionally durable. 

No touch screens. No computer boards. Just compressors, fans and stubborn engineering that doesn’t quit.

At 88 years old, Thermopolis appliance repairman Martin Andreen — 

—still speaks about old refrigerators the way ranchers talk about reliable pickups.

[{"type":"text","text":"“They were good machines,” he said. “Simple.”"}]

Andreen said the old Coldspots were built simply enough that most problems can still be repaired decades later. 

The biggest headache, he said, is when the freezer fan goes out, though even that usually isn't difficult to fix.

His brother owned a Coronado refrigerator that ran for more than 60 years before eventually being moved into a family member’s shop in Douglas.

[{"type":"text","text":"“For all I know, it’s probably still running,” Martin said."}]

Hoven recently listed her mother’s Coldspot on Facebook classifieds for $1,000 — a figure she admits is ambitious. 

Before the listing went public, she said somebody once offered nearly double that for it, though the deal eventually fell apart.

The Coldspot's longevity is impressive, but Andreen laughed at the idea of paying $1,000 for “that old thing.”

Even $200, he admitted, feels high to him, though he acknowledged vintage refrigerators have become collectible for people chasing retro aesthetics and mid-century Americana.

[{"type":"text","text":"“I’d probably try to get the price down,” he said with a laugh."}]

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"An Empire Of Trinkets"}]

[{"type":"text","text":"The old refrigerator isn’t the only monument to another era."}]

Inside the Fuller home, antiques spill from shelves and tabletops like the lacy buttercream frosting of a 1980s wedding cake.

Cream and burgundy wingback chairs face each other beneath crystal chandeliers, doubled in the reflection of gold-framed mirrors. Dappled sunlight filters through gathered lace curtains and bounces off old vases bursting with artificial roses.

The dining room table remains crowded with shimmering glass pitchers, crystal bowls, ornate candlesticks and floral centerpieces arranged as though guests might still arrive at any moment.

“She was a perfectionist,” Hoven said of her mother. “And a collector.”

[{"type":"text","text":"The deeper you move into the house, the denser it becomes."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"Lampshades wear fringe and lace collars. "}]

Decorative stained-glass flowers cast rainbow light across bedrooms crowded with brass bedframes and heaps of blush-colored pillows arranged for the heads of sleeping dolls in gauzy dresses that drift toward the carpet like fog.

“Mother would’ve turned over in her grave if she could see what we’ve done to the place,” Hoven said, turning to the cleaning supplies and boxes stacked in every corner, explaining her mother always kept an immaculate home.

“It has been extremely hard,” Hoven said. “Our mom was our world. At first it was hard to part with anything.”

Hoven now moves through the home attached to an oxygen tank, frequently stopping to rest while battling the same COPD that ultimately killed her mother.

[{"type":"text","text":"Still, she continues sorting through thousands of objects piece by piece."}]

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"The Weight Of Inheritance"}]

Across America, adult children increasingly find themselves inheriting homes like this — houses dense with objects tied to another era of domestic life.

China cabinets. Crystal bowls. Crochet tablecloths. Figurines. Curio shelves. Heavy wooden furniture built well enough to outlive multiple generations.

The problem is that while the emotional value remains enormous, the market value often does not.

Estate sale organizer Robyn Cutter has spent so many weekends clearing out people’s homes she has earned an unofficial Ph.D. in the business of “stuff”: what Americans save, what strangers covet and what nobody can seem to give away.

China cabinets, she said, are notoriously difficult to move. Crochet tablecloths can be hit-or-miss. Dolls fluctuate wildly depending on the buyer.

[{"type":"text","text":"Cast iron cookware almost always disappears quickly."}]

Looking at a photo of Fuller’s Coldspot, Cutter estimated it would probably bring somewhere between $100 and $200 locally.

Still, she understands why people become attached to objects like that refrigerator.

“It’s too gut-wrenching,” Cutter said of families watching strangers buy pieces of their loved one’s lives.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"One Last Goodbye"}]

An auctioneer from Buffalo is expected to sort through the Fuller house’s remaining heaps.

The family also sells items through Facebook Marketplace and eBay, including the refrigerator.

They haul boxes to antique expos at the Ford Wyoming Center, arranging and rearranging fragments of their mother’s collection beneath fluorescent lights while strangers wander past.

By the end of most estate sales, Cutter said, families usually stop focusing on individual objects and start feeling something closer to relief.

[{"type":"text","text":"The stress lifts. The house empties. Life begins moving again."}]

“They just breathe,” she said. “They’re like, ‘Wow, this is great.’”

That sense of closure is still a ways away for Hoven and her sister inside their late mother's home, where mountains of clothes, cups, quilts and figurines still wait to be sorted.

[{"type":"text","text":"And downstairs, the refrigerator keeps running keeping the Schlitz cold."}]

Coldspot composite 5 30 26

<title>75 Years Later, a Casper Woman’s Fridge Is Still Running, Cold Schlitz Inside | Cowboy State Daily</title>

More than a year after a Casper woman died, her daughters found a 75-year-old Coldspot refrigerator, hidden by cobwebs and insulation, humming with life. In fact, the fridge from the 1950s, was keeping 30-year-old cans of Schlitz ice-cold.

75 Years Later, a Casper Woman’s Fridge Is Still Running, Cold Schlitz Inside

Headshot of Cowboy State Daily's general assignment reporter, Clair McFarland.

Clair McFarland

Politics

Wyoming laws governing which state and local Republican Party officials can vote for  leaders are constitutional, and the state Republican Party’s rights to dictate its own membership don’t trump those laws, a judge ruled Friday. 

Uinta County District Court Judge James Kaste’s Friday ruling gives a concrete, though appealable, answer to the state GOP’s yearslong agenda to shrug off the restrictions Wyoming law places on it and behave as a private group.

The dispute in this case started in March of 2025 when Joe Martinez and Phillip Scheel won election to the seats of Hot Springs County Republican Party Chair and state committeeman, respectively. 

But the state party’s Dispute Resolution Committee, after a controversial mediation process, then arbitration process, ruled that two “provisional” ballots of former Vice-Chair Brayden Harvey and former Secretary Mary Ann Jager should have counted in that election.

The ballots tipped the scale and made Harvey chair, and Russell Lewis state committeeman instead. 

But Harvey and Jager weren’t precinct committee people, meaning, they weren’t elected to the county central committee by their Republican neighbors as of the most recent primary election. 

State law says only people elected in that fashion can vote for the county party leaders. 

The Wyoming and Hot Springs County GOP bylaws, conversely, say the officers can vote even if they’re not precinct committee people. 

The state party asserted that because the First Amendment confers to private groups a right to dictate their own membership, the party’s bylaw should defeat state law. 

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"}],"text":"Kaste disagreed. "}]

The state GOP’s most-referenced case in this matter, Eu v. San Francisco County Democratic Party Central Committee doesn’t fit this case, the judge ruled. 

That case, which the U.S. Supreme Court decided in 1989, conferred broad associational rights on political parties. 

But it stems from a situation in which the state of California laid much heavier restrictions on the Democratic Party, Kaste noted. 

He ruled that Harvey and Jager’s provisional ballots don’t count. 

“Martinez and Scheel won the election and should have been installed in those offices,” wrote Kaste. “The Dispute Resolution Committee made a manifest mistake of law in concluding otherwise.”

Kaste ordered that Martinez and Scheel should be installed “immediately” into the offices of Hot Springs County Republican Party Chair and state committeeman, and the case dismissed. 

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"}],"text":"Case Autopsy"}]

Former state Rep. Clark Stith, who’s now a judge, filed this case last April on the Martinez group’s behalf. 

Kate Mead, the mother of U.S. Senate candidate Sam Mead, took it over when Stith became a judge earlier this year. 

“I think the judge made the right decision,” said Kate Mead in a Saturday phone interview. “He was super well-prepared, had gone through all the briefs with a fine-toothed comb, had researched the heck out of it.” 

Mead noted that the party can still appeal, and that this time, it has raised its constitutional concerns and the attorney general has had a chance to defend those. 

So the Wyoming Supreme Court can address those concerns. 

The party can also file separate action asking a judge to declare that it’s above the state laws that restrict it. 

“It was obvious that the Republican Party had screwed up by suggesting to the Hot Springs people that my clients weren’t elected, when they were validly elected,” said Mead. 

In a setback to the Wyoming Republican Party’s long mission to gain independence from state law, a Uinta County judge Friday upheld multiple Wyoming election laws, dismissing the state Party’s claims that its rights trump them.

One More For The Road: Tuesday, February 11, 2025

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