Windy Wyoming

Day six – today has cost me $35., campsite (no hook ups) plus breakfast, lunch and dinner all (but gas) inclusive. My body, still on Eastern Standard Time was awake early. I was ready to ride by 6:30, so after a quick stop for gas and breakie I decided it would be a great day to veer off the highway at least a couple of times for photos and headed into Cheyenne. The folks (who were up) were very friendly. My Ontario License plate is now an anomaly and folks just stop to chat. One of the locals I met on the street suggested, with a Midwestern drawl, that Cheyenne had more to see than all of California. I took a few quick photos (nothing was open yet) and headed west. Next stop, does this sound like every western movie you ever saw? Laramie.

I rounded a bend on the I-80 just outside of Laramie and there before me were the majestic, snow covered mountain peaks. I’ve crossed the Continental Divide now and have decided that western Wyoming should be renamed Windy Wyoming. Some stretches of the highway were, what I imagine, driving back and forth through the turbo dryer at the drive through automatic car wash would feel like, not that I have actually done that. But it was windy enough to make a rider slow down. I am wondering if perhaps a bit more research as to the “character” of this particular route might have been in order after having a 6 foot plus, 220 lb Harley rider complain about the wind.

Parts of I-80/30 are under construction which doesn’t hinder traffic much unless it’s a stretch where four lanes have been reduced to two lanes and a semi breaks down on your side. I sat for 45 minutes admiring the scenery, waiting for the semi to be removed. The line of traffic was so long that it took a full 10 minutes from the time I saw the traffic at the head begin to move until I was actually underway again.

Tonight’s campsite is windy, but lovely. It’s not far off the highway but I can’t hear the traffic. It’s small and I’ve met some of my neighbors – a group of paleontologists from the University of Washington here on a two week dig, looking for prehistoric mammalian fossils in the rock formations nearby. The landscape is rugged and barren. The rocks that appear to have been shoved from the bowels of the earth thousands of years ago house a treasure of fossilized remains of creatures from gone by eras. The tops of the hills are dotted with hoodoos reminiscent of Drumheller Alberta. Tomorrow I should be in Utah.

Cowboy Country

I was awake early but dawdled this morning to take advantage of the free breakfast at the Howard Johnson. Best restaurant food to date. The French toast made from a delicious corn bread. Obviously though, the farms out here in Nebraska don’t have dairy cows since neither cup of coffee (dinner or breakfast) came with cream, only artificial coloring. I guess you can’t get milk from corn and you don’t milk beef cows.



A freight train crawls out of the fog along the Lincoln Hwy.



I left Grand Island under a cloak of fog and a heavy mist. It wasn’t actually raining but the droplets were sliding down my visor just the same. It was cooler than most places across the Midwest and I didn’t mind having on a sweater and raincoat. Grand Island claimed to have one of the only original pieces of the Lincoln highway pavement so I headed downtown to find it. I didn’t actually find that one piece but managed to travel the highway for a short distance before heading back to I-80 west and on to Wyoming. As I traveled today the flat, corn-covered prairie gradually gave way to rugged rolling hills dotted with dark cattle. Whoever called Montana big sky country hasn’t seen the sky in Western Nebraska. You can see forever. The heavy thunder heads slowly began to break leaving blue skies filled with billowing white clouds that were endless. I passed several kilometer long freight trains creeping, across the countryside and couldn’t help feeling sorry for the folks who’d be camping back at the KOA in Rock Island because I’m sure each and every one of them was headed there tonight.



My pony against
 Wyomings Big Sky

Just as I rode past the sign telling me I was now entering Mountain time I looked down to see Dan’s clock pop back an hour. Needless to say I was back on schedule and even early. I arrived in Cheyenne at 2:30 mountain time. This whole time change thing has really been on my side on the ride west, I just hate knowing it’s going to work against me on my return. And speaking of Dan he did alright today. I think I’ll add elevation to the screen as I start heading into the mountains.

I’m now in Cowboy country, sleeping tonight in my little paprika tent. It’s beautiful. I missed a wonderful photograph that said it all this afternoon. I happened to glance up to the top of a grassy hill along the highway and there stood a lone mustang, proud against the background of vast blue sky and billowing clouds. It was Wyoming at a glance. Travelling on the superslab as I am there’s no real spot to stop and enjoy the beauty. Wyoming will take me two days to cross but before I leave Cheyenne I think I’ll head down to see some of the famous cowboy town.