In the Cowboy State – Friday, January 5, 2024
Casper, Wyoming
The Montana Grizzlies went undefeated at home this season, their home run in Missoula culminated in a dominating blowout of Montana State. The domination kept going with three consecutive playoff home victories, sending UM to its eighth national championship appearance. Washington-Grizzly Stadium indeed is where the dreams of opposing football teams go to die. That was particularly true this season as Montana went undefeated at home for the 15th time and moved to 233-35 overall in the Garden City.
For me, my dreams of a national championship run died in Casper, Wyoming.
I was up before dawn to deliver a load at a job site in Helena and then off like a shot to make Casper. The last part of my delivery is to a major equipment distributor, who closes up shop promptly at 5 PM. Even though it’s gonna be a push, if I can unload before they close, I can continue driving towards Frisco, and possibly make my own appearance at a national championship.
Four fuel stops, two weigh stations and no food later, I triumphantly arrived at my destination at 4:45. I took paperwork inside to one of the 40 associates milling around this cavernous premises, and then pulled up alongside the building as instructed.
I took off the chains and binders and watched while the guy backed the skid steer off of my trailer. He signed my sheet. I give him the keys. A wave of self satisfaction for meeting my goal rolls over me.
Saturday January 6, 2024 4:45 p.m.
I start putting away my equipment, close my ramps, and begin to envision how to close the remaining 1,053 miles to Frisco. I can keep driving for a while tonight and maybe find something out of Denver tomorrow, about 11 hours away from Toyota Stadium. The Griz and South Dakota State kick off at noon on Sunday.
Deep in thought about my next steps and finishing closing up my truck and trailer, imagine my shock and despair when I looked up just in time to see a closed gate. In front of me, the final employee shutting a padlock on the other side.
Keelan White would’ve made it, but my 8.3-second 40 time, even assisted by yelling and waving arms, was not fast enough to cover the football field distance between me and the gate. And the final person in the building got in his truck…and drove away with the key.
It’s 5:10 p.m. Fifty people left within 10 minutes of closing. And no one minded to tell me to get out. I am apoplectic, locked inside a chain-link Barbwire fence alone with tractors and backhoes for the weekend.
In moments like this, full denial is the only response. I was sprinting like a maniac to every corner of the premises, screaming like a lunatic at the top of my lungs, and then it sets in.
I am in jail in Casper, Wyoming. The calls to the company phone of course go on unanswered. So do my screams to the clouds.
The next phase is blame: “Colter Nuanez, you son of a bitch, send me out on this idiotic, destined to fail, road trip to nowhere.
“The national championship carrot are so clearly in view that you sent me off a cliff I never saw coming, to try and get there.”
Deep Breath…
I don’t know if you believe in God. I happened to. He doesn’t put us in jail. We do that ourselves, but in those moments, sometimes, divine clarity comes. “You are not going to Frisco.” I don’t know why. There may be no ‘why’. But a weight was lifted. It’s OK not to go. And then peace.
After quiet contemplation and coming back to myself, I did what anyone in my situation would do. I called 911.
“Hello. What’s your emergency“
I genuinely didn’t know how to answer the question. “Well I don’t know if this is an emergency, but it is to me… I’m locked inside of a business…”
I related my circumstance, and the very kind dispatcher said she would try and contact ownership and send an officer over.
It would be nice to have someone to talk. But no one came, and I contemplated calling again. But no one is dying or even injured.
I’m likely a low priority on the 911 scale. Finally, 35 minutes after my call, a truck pulls up, and before me stands a man with a key.
It’s now 1 PM on a sunny Saturday in Casper, Wyoming. I’m sitting in a cool Underground Rock themed-coffee shop writing an article. I have no idea where I’m going next.
I am not going to Frisco. But I am free, thank God.
