His name is Rosco. He forgets his last name, it's been so long since somebody has needed to say it.

Rosco grew up out in the middle of no place, which is just west of the middle of nowhere, in Wyoming. All his life he told himself that he planned to get out and go see the world.

"I'm curious about New York City," said Rosco. "I hear San Francisco is interesting.

Rosco talked about this trip for most of his life. He collected postcards and clipped out magazine photos of the cities he dreamed of exploring.

Then, one day, much to everyone's surprise, he actually did it. He packed a small bag and headed out to see what life was like in the big cities. 

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Two weeks later Rosco was seen driving back to his little shack out in the grasslands of Wyoming faster than anyone had ever seen him drive. His truck slid to a stop, dust rising all around it to the point that he could barely be seen getting out.

We know this happed because the local sheriff clocked Rosco doing over 100mph when he entered the country and spend the rest of the trip trying to keep up with the old coot as he chased him home.

Sure the Sheriff could have handed Rosco a big ticket for speeding and reckless driving, but he was more concerned as to if Rosco was okay. 

"He looked like he was in a panic when he drove by," said the Sheriff. "Fast as he was going he did not forget to give that young lady driving in the other direction the traditional two-finger steering wheel wave. As for giving him a speeding ticket, well something must have been wrong because everybody knows Rosco is the slowest driver in the country. Nobody wants to get caught behind him."

The Sheriff pulled up behind Rosco's truck as the dust moved away from the old man's tiny home in the grasslands.

"I saw him run inside and slam the door behind him," the Sheriff said. "I approached the house slowly and knocked on the door. An easy knock as to not further excite him. The door was locked. I could hear him loading cocking every gun he had."

"Did you go to New York City, Rosco?" The sheriff asked through the door.

"I did," Rosco answered.

"Did you see San Francisco?"

"I did."

The sheriff thought about this a moment then said, "So I guess you'll be in there a while."

"Ain't never coming out again."

"Need anything?"

"Well, next time ya head this way, a pound of coffee would be nice."

According to the Sheriff, Rosco finally got the courage to come out and he does make it into town now and then. But ole' Rosco says he believes the world has lost its collective mind, and he's not so interested in exploring it anymore.

"Funny," said the sheriff, "that's just what Bethany said about us." (Read Bethany's story here).

A Field Guide To Wyoming Tourist Types