It took me almost an hour to get out of the city, and when I did there was plenty of downhill sending me out into the desert with little effort on my part. The North Platte River was on my right as I chewed through the miles, trying to get as far as I could while the air was still cool. I passed a sign for the Gray Beef Reservoir and wondered how anyone came up with such an unappetizing name for a body of water, only to later realize that it was actually the Gray Reef Reservoir. Much more appetizing.
As the afternoon approached, a low wind started up out of the southwest. There were enough long, downhill stretches as I descended into the Great Divide Basin, however, that it wasn’t causing me any problems. What was troubling was the utter lack of services along the road since I’d left the city. Up to this point I’d become accustomed to a nice little town or village every ten or twelve miles. Even if the town didn’t have a store or restaurant, it was still comforting to be in a “place” at least once every couple of hours. Not the case out here.
Shortly after noon, I reached Independence Rock. This formation of granite rises out of the ground like a giant whale frozen in mid-breach of the surface of the earth. It served as a landmark for pioneers crossing this forbidding territory on their way to what they hoped would be a better life in the West. It also served as a canvas for 19th century graffiti artists, who carved initials and dates into the stone on their way through. As crazy as it was for me to set off on this cross-country trek on a bicycle, at least I didn’t pack up my whole family in a covered wagon and try to walk to California during a time when there were not only no gas stations along the way to pick up Gatorade and energy bars, but there were all sorts of things along the way actively trying to kill you! Damn, those folks had some guts.
I took a walk around the rock and talked to some nice folks who had sold their house so they could become RV nomads. I can’t help but wonder if that’s one of those rat-race pipe dreams that’s better as a dream than a reality after a while. The site had bathrooms, water and shaded picnic tables, but no food. I made due with one of the bananas I had procured that morning and a couple fruit & nut bars. It’s always a good idea to fill up at breakfast whenever you can. (The hotel I was staying at in Casper didn’t offer a breakfast, so I had to nonchalantly wander over to the hotel next door to get my free eggs, waffle, yogurt, biscuits & gravy, bananas, and donut.)
By the time I left Independence Rock, the wind had gotten serious. Even though the terrain was mostly flat, it was slow going for the rest of the afternoon. When I finally reached Muddy Gap about four arduous hours later, I was thrilled silly to find a gas station with a store (though not much else). They didn’t have a pizza mausoleum or a hot dog torture device, so I had to resort to a packaged ham and cheese sandwich, a bag of chips and a couple sketchy looking apples for dinner (along with a nutritious king-sized Snickers bar for dessert).
I scouted around for a place to camp, but there were no city parks, campgrounds, or other legit places to set up. There was a small collection of run-down houses and trailers by the side of the road. It appeared to be lived in, although no examples of living people were in evidence. A large steel garage had “Fire Department” spray painted on its door. It was locked up and empty of fire people, but it did have a flat spot of ground along the east side that I decided no one would mind if I used for the night. Despite having set up in the shade, it was stiflingly hot inside the tent. I settled in, drank a half gallon of water, and attempted to read a chapter of my book on the Revolutionary War. I was unconscious by the third paragraph, once again missing out on yet another potentially glorious sunset.
What I Learned: In this part of the country, it’s very likely that you'll have the same view for a good part of the day. After leaving Independence Rock, I was treated to a great vista overlooking the plains (or prairie, or maybe it was dessert, not sure what the technical distinction is) to the Teton Mountains. Twenty miles later, I had almost the exact same view, with the mountains only being ever so slightly taller. An interesting phenomenon, but it makes you feel like you’re not really getting anywhere after hours and hours of pedaling.
Distance Today: 78 miles
Total Distance: 2,455 miles
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