We put down at the commuter terminal of Casper International at oh-four-forty-five, which gave me fifteen minutes to collect my baggage and hump it over to the international terminal. According to the signs, there was an automated people-mover to carry passengers the klick or so from one terminal to another. But, according to other signs—hastily hand-lettered—the people-mover was down for maintenance, and should be back up and running three days ago, thanks for your patience. There were shuttle-buses too, but the one I tried to catch was full—or so the big, burly Amerind driver told me, even though I could see a dozen empty seats—and fragging near rolled over my toes as it pulled out. Well, it was a nice morning for a brisk walk anyway.