Daily Darwin

Client was super happy the tree is gone. The neighbor complained a bit though......

Darwin 4 17 25

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

<title>Daily Darwin: Thursday, April 17, 2025 | Cowboy State Daily</title>

Daily Darwin: Thursday, April 17, 2025

 Client was super happy the tree is gone. The neighbor complained a bit though......

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

Renée Jean

Wyoming Life

Terlingua is a ghost town in Texas where the world’s chili champions are made. But many of those Terlingua International Chili champions say their favorite chili stage isn’t in the Texas desert at all. 

It’s in the tiny town of Chugwater, population 175, where even the best of the best are willing to drive a thousand miles or more on a chili pilgrimage that’s been going strong for decades, raising money for local nonprofits and quietly serving as one of Wyoming’s biggest, word-of-mouth tourism wins. 

Many contestants pair their chili fest trip with subsequent Yellowstone and Devils Tower adventures.

This Father’s Day weekend marked the 40th annual Chugwater Chili Cook-off, which annually turns the tiny high plains town into a blow-out chili fest for a single day. 

Other chili competitions “just don’t have the audience participation like you do here, where everyone comes and tastes your chili,” 2015 Terlingua winner James Burns told Cowboy State Daily. “This is one of the few where that happens and it’s just amazing. 

They’ve set themselves apart from all the other chili championships.”

It was a 15-hour drive for Burns, one that he made over two days. Burns’ first Chugwater Chili Cook-off was in 2016, fresh off his 2015 Terlingua win. 

No one, he added, was ever a less-likely chili champion.

“At the time, I had this band,” he said with a chuckle. “And the lady who promoted us and did our shirts and everything said, ‘I’ve got a chili cook-off coming up with the VFW, and I want you to cook for it'.”

[{"type":"text","text":"Started Online"}]

Burns told her he had no idea how to cook chili for dinner, much less for a competition. However, she insisted, and he needed her to keep doing the band’s marketing.

“So, I went out and I bought all this stuff,” Burns said. “And it was all the wrong stuff. I bought, like, a cast-iron pan, which you don’t need.”

He quickly realized he was in way over his head when it came to chili competitions. Eventually, he asked her if a website or something could help guide him. 

“So that’s how I got started,” he said. “I went to that website and found out what to really use.”

Even then, he still faced a steep learning curve. From March to June, he cooked at all kinds of chili contests and never scored a single point. 

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"}],"text":"Finally, it all just came together. "}]

“The first point I got, I went straight to first place,” he said.

That took him to Terlingua, which he also won. He has been winning chili competitions ever since. 

This year, a decade after his first Chugwater Chili experience, he was back. Not for himself, however. He had chili champion friends who had yet to experience the tiny town’s event.

“I tell everyone you’ve got to go here,” he said. “It’s just so amazing. It’s a bucket-list item. All the chili cooks have got this on their bucket list. 

“Things happen, they can’t get here all the time,” he added. “But this year, we’ve got between 20 and 25 people who came up here from Texas.”

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"The Big Chili Explosion"}]

Burns isn’t exaggerating when it comes to the scale of Chugwater’s giant-sized Chili Cook-off in Staat’s Park. 

The town might be tiny, but its cook-off explodes its population from 175 to thousands for a single day, raising money that helps support many of the town’s nonprofits all year. The event has raised hundreds of thousands of dollars to support its fire department, historical group, economic development and school organizations such as FFA and FBLA.

Cars will line the streets leading into Chugwater and fill up all the side streets. Business parking lots quickly swell with cars, too, as well as dusty fields where no one would normally park.

The C.H. Brown family donates time and teams for free wagon rides to and from the cook-off, lending a little charm to what would otherwise be a lengthy trek on foot from these repurposed fields to the park where contestants from all over the world gather to vie for one of three top spots in the red chili competition. That is not just for bragging rights. It’s also an automatic invitation to Terlingua.

“The public here is just phenomenal,” 2019 Terlingua winner Kathryn Williams of Texas told Cowboy State Daily. “If you look at the population sign of Chugwater, it says 175, but in the first 33 minutes, we had given away 200 tasting cups of chili, so there’s obviously more than just the population of Chugwater here. The support is just unbelievable.”

Williams paired her first trip to Chugwater with a tour of Yellowstone once the competition is over, after which she’ll be in Colorado for a competition as well. She planned everything a year in advance. 

“If you’re from the Gulf Coast of Texas and you’re not used to the cold, and you’ve never seen a mountain, you’ve never seen snow — this was just an opportunity for us to come see a different landscape,” she said. “It’s also a chance to meet different people and see if Texas-style chili works in Wyoming.”

She’s not alone. Many other visiting teams also told Cowboy State Daily they pair this weekend with a larger Western road trip that will include other bucket-list stops such as Yellowstone, Devil’s Tower, Deadwood, and many other places.

For veteran competitor Jerry Arnold, who lives in Nebraska but is originally from Torrington, the Chugwater Chili Cook-off is much more than just a cooking competition. For him, it is a big family group hug, built around chili pots and pans. 

Arnold's wife, daughter-in-law, son, daughter and her children have all joined the chili fold. They come together over chili contests like other families gather for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Arnold won his first chili contest in 1999. 

“They had a pokerfest,” he recalled. “I and my wife went over there — I wasn’t married yet — but I won, which really surprised me. I thought, ‘Wow!’ And so I went to Crawford (Nebraska) and won again. I was like, ‘Are you kidding me? I’m gonna go to Scotts Bluff and win, I’m gonna go to the nationals and I’ll be famous'.”

Arnold has been invited to Terlingua a half-dozen times or so with his family members, who cook under the name Prairie Fire Chili. So far, they have not clinched a world title, though they have frequently placed in regional qualifiers, including the Chugwater Cook-off.

“There’s a lot of competition here,” Arnold said. “If you place in the top 10 here, you’re doing really well. My daughter-in-law, she got second in green.”

Arnold’s only complaint about Chugwater is that he never gets a chance to try the other competitors’ chili. He’s frequently next to a guy who has won Chugwater multiple times and has always “wanted to go over there and try his chili,” but he’s always too busy serving his own.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Cooking For The Crowd"}]

While some of the contestants are laser-focused on winning their shot at Terlingua, others come to win the crowd.

Count Cheyenne construction worker Casey Medina among those. He’s earned the People’s Choice honor multiple times, and he, too, sees the event as a big family tradition. 

His recipe is built around pork and Anaheim chilis, slow-cooked with onions, garlic and tomatoes. His secret weapon is just letting all the natural flavors shine through. 

“No secret seasonings,” he told Cowboy State Daily. “No added ingredients really.” 

Just a little salt to help bring it all together.

The recipe might seem modest, but the quantities of the natural ingredients are anything but. Medina estimates he cooks 35 gallons of chili in his quest to win the People’s Choice award, and he will start a week in advance, cutting the meat, roasting peppers, and getting all the prep work done. 

The final cook takes an additional three hours on site. 

It’s a big effort for one weekend, but it’s worth it for this crowd, he said, waving a hand at all the people milling about, enthusiastically trying the different chili recipes.

“This is just a good time as a family,” Medina added. “It’s just something to show off that we do have a good recipe. It’s something to do, and it’s a great event. I wish more people would come up.”

For Cheyenne caterer Amy Kennison, the Chugwater Chili Cook-off was meant to be a one-off competition in 2024, a way to get out and meet new people and promote her Wyoming catering business. 

June, typically, is abusy month for her, as it’s wedding season. But, as it happened, in 2024, her schedule was a bit light. She’d heard of the Chugwater Chili Cook-off for decades, but had just never had the opportunity before then to enter it.

“We never had any thought that we were going to actually win,” she said. “We were just hoping to maybe place, and thought it would be fun.”

In fact, they were pretty sure they weren’t going to win — given the kind of competition that was at the event, which included many of the world’s top chili champions.

As the winners were announced, name after name rolled out belonging to other teams. Kennison and her family were actually packing up to leave when they suddenly heard their name called. Their chili, made from Wyoming-grown beef, pork and deer they raise and hunt themselves, had won first place in the red chili category.

That meant an automatic invite to Terlingua, which they decided to do as a family. 

It was an “interesting” experience, Kennison said — and not one she wants to repeat.

“This cook-off is way better,” she said of Chugwater’s festival. “At Terlingua, people don’t come to your booth to sample your chili like they do here.

“And the tasting was at noon,” she added. “But they opened the beer garden at 8 a.m., so everyone couldn’t walk or talk by 10 a.m.”

The excessive drinking by some contestants and other guests created a decidedly non-family-like atmosphere, which Kennison and her family didn’t embrace. 

“It was very weird,” she said. “You just came, and everyone made a little pot of chili like this in their trailer and filled a cup and delivered it up to the judges. That was it.

“It wasn’t fun, it wasn’t kid-friendly at all, and I don’t think we’ll ever go back. It was also kind of vulgar — like Burning Man for chili.”

Terlingua might be the sport’s most prestigious title, but for Kennison and many other competitors, Chugwater offers something they value even more — a family-friendly place where their kids feel welcome and a tiny town turns into a chili mecca.

For first-time Chugwater Chili Cook-off guest Kimberly Doshier, who grew up near Sacramento, California, and now lives in Cheyenne, Chugwater felt a lot bigger than she expected for a town of 175.

She’d figured it would be something pretty scaled back. Until, that is, she drove into the car-lined streets and found herself at what felt like a “really big farmers market” with tent after tent of cooks and vendors, live music, and families lining up to taste.

“Being from California originally, I’m kind of used to a giant farmers market,” she said. “So this kind of reminds me of that a little bit.”

Her nose had been “going crazy” since she’d arrived, overwhelmed by the mix of spices, smoke, and grilled foods that were scenting the air. 

“The word ‘disappointment’ does not come to mind when it comes to this event,” she said with a big smile. “It’s been a blast. This is definitely what a community coming together really is.”

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"A Father’s Day Plan"}]

Forty years ago, it might have been difficult to imagine that a chili cook-off in a tiny Wyoming town would become a pilgrimage for Terlingua world champions, with caravans of Texans, Floridans, Nebraskans, and others planning their entire Father’s Day weekend around it. 

But that’s exactly what the Chugwater event has become. Gallons and gallons of chili flow throughout the day from huge over-sized pots into tiny sample cups that are then tasted by tongues tingling with all the chili flavor they can stand. 

For Burns and other Terlingua champions or hopefuls who have made this trek, Chugwater’s event is counted among the best of the best for its fun and its atmosphere.

And it’s given Wyoming families a chance to try the world’s best chilis in one special location on one special day each year — a Wyoming Father’s Day to remember. 

Chugwater chili 20260620 142313 6 22 26

<title>Why World Chili Champions Come To Tiny Chugwater For Its Annual Chili Fest | Cowboy State Daily</title>

Terlingua, Texas, crowns the world’s chili champions, but many say their favorite contest is in Chugwater, Wyoming. For 40 years, the Chugwater Chili Cook-off has been a Father's Day bucket-list contest for the best chili cooks on the planet.

Why World Chili Champions Come To Tiny Chugwater For Its Annual Chili Fest

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

Andrew Rossi

Outdoors

Public Lands

Almost a week after a semitruck carrying 

 flipped over in Yellowstone National Park and destroyed hundreds of hives, bees are still swarming around the area.

Thousands of bees are still homeless and visibly trying to survive in large groups on “bee trees” along U.S. Highway 191. 

Jim Holstein with Yellowstone Tour Guides has been passing through the area where the accident occurred. He took a photograph of one of the bee trees, where thousands of bees had completely covered a small lodgepole in a vast, buzzing swarm.

“They were still there on Monday,” Holstein told Cowboy State Daily. “It’s in the park between Big Sky and West Yellowstone. All the hives have been cleaned up, but there are quite a few bees left.”

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Bee Trees"}]

Cheyenne beekeeper Michael Jordan is familiar with bee trees. They’re an indication that a colony of bees is actively house-hunting.

“It’s what's called a swarming mechanism,” he said. “The queen leaves and takes about half or more of the colony and moves to a new safe location.”

Jordan said this is common behavior for honeybees when a hive gets overpopulated. The existing queen will take nurse bees and guard bees to sustain herself in a temporary location while scouts search for a permanent 

“The scouts will search until they find a permanent location,” he said. “In the meantime, you'll have groups and colonies hanging in the trees as they regroup.”

A new permanent home could be a hole in a tree, a cave, or “anywhere that’s out of the water and elements,” said Jordan. 

Bee trees are meant to be staging locations so the scouts can lead the hive to their new home.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Sugar High"}]

When the scout bees find a suitable location for a permanent hive, their next priority is

“Right now, they’re looking for a sugar source,” Jordan said. “Bees need sugar to produce wax from their glands. Once they produce the wax and form it, they'll actively engineer foam in what we call a pendulum manner to make honeycombs.”

Bees instinctively know how to build hives, and their goal is to start propagating as soon as possible after a hive-destroying incident.

Once they find a suitable spot with plenty of sugar in the vicinity, maybe a rock formation or building near a flower-filled meadow, the queen will follow the scouts to the new hive. Instinctively, all the bees on the bee tree will follow her.

Jordan didn't think there would be any bee trees for tourists to see by Wednesday.

“Those clusters will be gone within 24 to 48 hours if they find a good location,” he said. “After that, there’s nothing you can do to recover them, because tracking them is very hard.

The fact that bee trees can still be seen along U.S. Highway 191 six days after the June 16 crash might indicate the bees are having trouble finding an ideal place for a new home. But it definitely means the colonies can be safely recovered.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Get Those Bees, Please"}]

Within 24 hours of the semitruck incident, people were at the scene removing the damaged honey boxes and trying to recover whatever remained of the bee colonies that had been residing in them.

Jordan said the first 48 hours are crucial in a bee recovery situation like that.

“If you can’t get new hives set up in 48 hours, the queens will migrate and leave a pheromone trail that the bees accommodating her in that hive will follow,” he said. “That’s what the bee trees are: thousands of bees accumulating around the queen.”

That means there’s a small window to safely save these bees before they become permanent Yellowstone residents.

Jordan’s strategy would be to place a mobile swarm trap. It’s basically a column of PVC pipes with buckets attached to either end. The height can be adjusted to get as close as possible to the colony clusters.

“If the bees accumulate in the buckets as a temporary hive, you can relocate them to an apiary and manage them there,” he said. “You can even hold a bucket up to the colony and shake them inside. That’s how you can naturally collect and remove a colony.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"No Bears — Yet"}]

Commercial vehicles like semitrucks are banned in Yellowstone, but U.S. Highway 191 is an exception. It hugs the western boundary of the park and is an important 55-mile thoroughfare between West Yellowstone and Big Sky, 

"They've enacted a temporary 35 mph speed limit on the section where the bees are," Holstein said. "People have to keep their windows up, and there's no stopping until crews can get the remaining bees rounded up."

When the bee trees disappear, it means the bees have found a suitable spot to rebuild their hive. Finding and removing the colony would be difficult, if not impossible, especially in the dangerous wilderness of Yellowstone.

[{"type":"text","text":"After all, who loves honey more than bears?"}]

[{"type":"text","text":"“I haven’t seen any bears,” Holstein said. “Yet.”"}]

Jordan was more concerned about the people who lost their honey boxes and bee colonies. He knew how much money they had lost and must have spent trying to salvage whatever they could from the accident.

“From the way it looks. I’d think about 40-50% of what’s there is salvageable, maybe,” he said. “Each honey box can cost around $500 and generate around $2,000 in honey. 

"There could be two or three owners who lost their livelihood in that accident. That’s at least one whole company that has to rebuild.”

Bee tree swarm 6 22 26

<title>Millions Of Bees Swarm On Trees In Yellowstone After Hives Smashed In Semi Crash | Cowboy State Daily</title>

Almost a week after a semitruck carrying millions of bees flipped over in Yellowstone National Park and destroyed hundreds of hives, bees are still swarming on trees in the area. “It’s what's called a swarming mechanism,” said a Wyoming beekeeper.

Millions Of Bees Swarm On Trees In Yellowstone After Hives Smashed In Semi Crash

Kolby fedore

Kolby Fedore

Sports

Somewhere around mile 80, strange things start happening in the mountains. 

[{"type":"text","text":"Trees become people."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"Shadows turn into horses."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"Voices seem to drift through the darkness."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"One runner spent miles convinced mice were scurrying across her feet."}]

Another knows that if he's awake long enough, he'll start hearing conversations that aren't really there.

That's before the stomach problems, swollen feet and the little voice that starts begging runners to quit.

This weekend, hundreds of runners descended on Sheridan for the annual Bighorn Trail Run, one of the West's most respected ultramarathons. 

Some tackle 18 miles. Others run 32 or 52. A smaller group attempts the full 100-mile course — a physical and mental journey that keeps many of them moving through Wyoming's backcountry for more than 24 hours.

For people who have never run farther than a half or even full marathon — or perhaps never wanted to — the obvious question for these ultrarunners remains: 

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"The Drive"}]

[{"type":"text","text":"Ask 40-year-old Daniel Orr and he'll tell you every runner has one."}]

The Wyoming native grew up in Cody and Powell before eventually settling in Maine, where he now works as a freelance photojournalist for The Wall Street Journal.

This year, he returned to the West to take on the Bighorn 100, an ultrarunning event that starts near Dayton in northern Wyoming and travels over the Bighorn mountains. It’s considered one of the most challenging ultramarathons in the United States.

Orr's answer to why anyone would want to run extreme distances in extreme conditions isn't about competition.

[{"type":"text","text":"It's about grief."}]

"A lot of it is dealing with childhood stuff," Orr said. "I lost my mom in 2023, and that was a huge jump start to me seeking out endurance sports."

The races, he said, provided something unexpected for such an individual sport: community. Spending a day and a night suffering alongside strangers has a way of creating connections.

"This isn't my story, but there's a lot of people who come from addiction recovery and stuff," Orr said. "The community aspect is a really unexpected but very tangible thing you find in these races."

[{"type":"text","text":"For Anne Hinman, the answer is different."}]

A former University of Wyoming soccer player who now works as a marketing director and recently moved from Wyoming to Montana, Hinman ran her first ultramarathon at Bighorn in 2021. She's now completed the race five times.

[{"type":"text","text":"Her motivation is overcoming fear."}]

Hinman describes herself as naturally cautious and anxious. Moving to Wyoming forced her outside her comfort zone.

"There are moose and bear in Wyoming," she said with a laugh. "I was so afraid. So, the only reason I'm able to do what I do is because I push past my fear."

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Digestive Mutiny"}]

[{"type":"text","text":"Running 100 miles requires a shocking amount of fuel."}]

Forget energy bars. Ultrarunners often survive on all the things that would raise a mother's eyebrows.

Hinman's race menu includes Nerds Gummy Clusters, Rice Krispies Treats, potato chips and liquid sugar.

"Pretty much any junk food that you can think of is something that someone would eat during ultramarathons," she said.

[{"type":"text","text":"Orr has his own nutritional strategy."}]

The goal is consuming at least 80 grams of carbohydrates every hour while taking in fluids consistently throughout the race.

[{"type":"text","text":"At aid stations, however, dignity often disappears."}]

"You'll mix quesadilla with some Sour Patch Kids or something," Orr said. "Just kind of muscle through it."

The digestive system doesn't always cooperate. Both runners described stomach issues as one of the most common challenges in ultrarunning.

Another offered perhaps the most concise summary of the sport ever recorded: "Never trust a fart."

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Hallucinations"}]

The strangest part of ultrarunning often arrives after dark. By then, runners have been awake for nearly a full day.

They're exhausted, alone and deep in the mountains. Sleep deprivation begins to distort reality.

[{"type":"text","text":"For Orr, the hallucinations are subtle."}]

"You'll think you're seeing a human figure, or hearing voices," he said.

[{"type":"text","text":"For Hinman, they're harder to ignore."}]

During one nighttime section of a race, she became convinced mice were running across the trail and over her feet for nearly two miles.

[{"type":"text","text":"\"All of the trees became people,\" she said. \"Or horses.\""}]

Orr says the experience of how your mind deals with those ultimate challenges can be unsettling at first.

When he completed an overnight crossing of California's Joshua Tree National Park, he said the isolation became overwhelming.

[{"type":"text","text":"\"It's truly terrifying when you realize how alone you are,\" he said."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"Eventually, however, something changes."}]

"The mind just kind of accepts it after a while," Orr said. "And it's really quite peaceful after that acceptance."

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"The Voice"}]

[{"type":"text","text":"At some point, every ultrarunner hears a voice that says “stop.\""}]

It’s the voice that says you've gone far enough and starts pointing out the absurdity of voluntarily running 100 miles through the mountains.

[{"type":"text","text":"Hinman hears it every race."}]

"Please stop," she remembers the voice telling her. "This is dumb. You shouldn't be out here."

Her solution is simple — make it to the next aid station, then reassess.

[{"type":"text","text":"Nine times out of 10, she keeps going."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"The physical pain, though, is impossible to avoid."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"\"Every step hurts,\" she said."}]

Orr broke a toe during a 47-mile Grand Canyon effort and severely damaged a hamstring tendon during his first 100-mile race. He finished anyway.

[{"type":"text","text":"That's part of the bargain, he said."}]

"It's not a matter of if," Orr said of injuries. "It's a matter of when."

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Finish Line"}]

Despite the image of solitary runners disappearing into the wilderness, ultrarunning is rarely a solo effort.

Orr's girlfriend flew from Maine to crew for him while studying for her nurse practitioner certification exam. His brother drove from Powell to help at later aid stations. A pacer he'd never met before joined him for the final 32 miles.

[{"type":"text","text":"\"It's a good way to get to know somebody,\" Orr joked."}]

For many runners, the support crew becomes just as important as the training. They hand over fresh shoes, refill water bottles, offer encouragement and, when things get dark, help convince exhausted runners to keep moving.

[{"type":"text","text":"Eventually, a 100-mile race stops being about running."}]

It becomes a test of what a person can endure through a sleepless night in remote terrain — through aching muscles, stomach troubles, phantom voices and trees that suddenly look like people.

[{"type":"text","text":"For reasons even many runners struggle to explain, they keep coming back."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"One painful step at a time."}]

Bighorn 100 rsw 2560 9 6 21 26

This weekend, runners descended on Sheridan for one of the West's most respected ultramarathons. They'll tell you the 100-mile race is a test of what a person can endure: aching muscles, phantom voices and trees that suddenly look like people.

Daily Darwin: Thursday, April 17, 2025

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