Notes on Wyoming

Sunday, October 14th, 2007
Laramie, WY

Here we are again. The weather is starting to follow a pattern for this trip. Another weekend and I'm put to the side of the road because the skies decide to start crying. Did I say side of the road? What I really meant to say is under the road. In a bold attempt to get ahead of things, yesterday I decided to save some time by riding on the shoulder of Interstate 80. My maps had me on that freeway for 20 miles anyway and I figured I could eat the additional 76 miles to Laramie in one chunk if I just stayed put. Usually freeways are ill-advised but traffic was light and the shoulder clean and wide. What I couldn't see were the hills, winds and eventual rain that would stop me short. At about six yesterday evening, with only 13 miles to go, I decided that there was too little light and too much rain to continue. Not wanting to wait for a ride, I pulled my bike off the road at a small bridge spanning a dry creek bed and set up camp under the freeway. No need for my tent, I climbed the northern slope of the southbound lanes and slept on the dirt ledge three feet below the concrete that supported the thundering trucks above.

I slept pretty good down there. I was shielded from most of the night's light winds and stayed warm in long underwear and my sleeping bag. I got used to the traffic noise/vibrations (the whole structure would shudder under the weight of the bigger trucks) and was kept perfectly dry. When I got up this morning it was still drizzling so I slept a little longer. Mistake. Before I knew it that rain turned to snow. Running out of water--and not wanting to say there another day anyway--I geared up. With extra sleeves, the fingered gloves, beanie under the helmet and my first day wearing pants on the bike yet this trip, I jumped out in it. At first I thought I'd hitch hike but, no, I rode. It's actually easier to ride in snow than rain I found. The snow doesn't seep through as easy. The freeway stayed plenty wide for me to avoid any truck spray and that last 13 miles proved to be flat and safe. If half the love of the road is doing things the hard way then it makes sense why I had such a great time this morning. With a warm cup of coffee in my hand here at this computer and a dry hotel room down the street, the wet, the cold and a night spent under a freeway overpass are but a distant memory that I will never forget.

Where Idaho seemed to be more about the people, Wyoming has been more about the land. Monday and Tuesday saw me riding through Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks. I've already sent out some pictures from those areas but now let me tell you in words. When I once believed that I picked a poor time to undertake this trip, I was wrong. Snow capped mountains, autumn trees, light tourist traffic, I couldn't stop stopping to take pictures. This state is downright amazing. But also desolate. I resorted to a dinner of nothing but the half jar of peanut butter I had with me in deserted Jeffrey City. And I have found myself ever challenged by the elements (this in a week of nearly continuous sun). The winds have not favored me here. Though not enough to force my thumb like the day going into Vale, OR they do do a job on a rider's psyche. It's no fun peddling like you're doing 14 MPH yet only going 8. And the hills... let's just say I was happy to meet a cyclist at the beginning of this trip who reminded me that there is no shame in walking.

So far, so happy. I've been pushing myself to get out into the early cold and make extra miles late I've and come up nearly 100% successful. Even when I couldn't make my target last night I was neither nervous about my circumstances nor did I second guess my judgment. I'm really feeding off this whole experience. I am starting to feel some long-term fatigue. My hands feel sore at all times and can grow numb on the bike. My legs are never loose and perfectly fresh. A slight knee pain and sore back need extra attention here and there but I do my best to keep all systems running smooth. I've had a second spoke go out but all-in-all the bike is running smooth and strong. What it's really all about is the weather and the reward of staring it straight in the face.

I hope all of you have had the pleasure, or displeasure, of working some job that had you exposed to all elements at some point in your life. Be it Lake Mission Viejo, the military or this for me, it's a comfort and a dread to see your future physical comfort level out there on the horizon. Out here I'm constantly making the decision to either get on the chair lift for another run or go have a beer in the lodge. Either way, weather you judge it right or wrong, it feels good in the end. A little rain, sleet or snow won't kill you. It will only make you... smile when you counteract its effect. It's the simplest of rewards, one we Californians have all but eliminated from our lives. My suggestion: next time it rains, go for a jog.

To close, I'd like to say thanks to all the people who've make this trip a pleasure for me from back at home or right here on the road. Some of you have given me a ride or a warm place to sleep. Others are keeping me strong with a kind word or putting them out into cyberspace for me. I love and thank you all. It is a lonely road. But because of you I don't feel its full weight.

To sunny skies, high highs and high lows,

-Tony