Ice Cream in Farson, WY a tradition

I consider my childhood to have occurred in Lyman, Wyoming.  My grandparents on my dad's side have always lived in Lovell, Wyoming.  It was about a six hour drive to go visit them.  As a kid, I was directionally challenged and could only tell if we were going the right way by landmarks.  They were, on the way to Lovell: Little America (it's not a town, just a big ass hotel), Rock Springs, Farson, Lander, Riverton, Shoshone, the Wind River Canyon (with its three tunnels), Thermopolis, Worland, Greybull and then Lovell.  Farson, even though it was only about an hour outside the big (for Wyoming) city of Rock Springs, was a very frequent stop.  One Farson's claims to fame (though my grandma would probably say I should have stopped in Shoshone for it) is the ice cream.

Truth be told, I don't think the ice cream is made in Farson, but it is still good.  All through my childhood, and even when I was working road construction, Farson was a frequent stop (although when doing road construction, I stopped at the place across the street because it had gas and microwave sandwiches).

There was a family reunion of sorts in Wyoming, and we drove up from Vegas.  Serendipitously, my sister and her hubby ended up on the road at the same time.  So, of course, we stopped in Farson.  My little brother and his wife, after driving unreasonably fast, caught up to us there.

The ice cream was great.  This post really isn't about the ice cream.  The great part, was truly sharing a bit of my childhood with the kids, my sister in law and my bro-in-law.  Wyoming doesn't have a large population.  The picture of the Farson Mercantile above represents about 20% of the buildings in Farson (meaning there are only four other buildings there).  I consider myself a minority in that I have lived in and loved Wyoming.  I have had a childhood that probably less than 1% of the population of this country could have, by living in Wyoming.  On that day (and the few days following), my kids did too.

As we drove through my home town, it was at its greenest.  It looked like a tall grass paradise.  The kids, used to Nevada flora, asked if they could "run around in those green fields."  They didn't get to there (although there was lots of running around in fields later in the trip), but it reminded how lucky I was that I did get to run around in those green fields.

Looking back at that day, I ate that big ice cream cone you see here.  The thing is, I don't really like ice cream.  I do love memories, though.