Slumped in the tent after a long 80 mile day, we are the stinkiest pair west of the Mississippi. 2 days without showering can do much to ripen one's personal aroma, no matter how much you try to fight it with wet wipes. Does this lend itself to romance as we celebrate our 4th wedding anniversary?I hold onto the hope for a shower tomorrow evening when we arrive in Casper.
We began the day much as we ended the last: enjoying the culinary delights of Safeway. Donuts, coffee, bagels, wifi, bathrooms, Safeway seems to have it all for the traveler. A friendly young rock climber situated near our table, evidently also savoring Safeway's comestibles with a quart of milk and box of cereal, chats with us about the climbing scene in Lander and shares sugar-encrusted blueberry muffins with us. I like climbers. We were surrounded by them at the park last night and I envy their rippling arm muscles; however, I lack the dedication to acquire some myself.
We don't break away from the air-conditioned grocery until 11 am. The road abruptly leaves the bustling town and ushers us into an empty landscape of sage-covered rolling hills. About 10 miles down the road, a man loading a mountain bike into a white VW van calls out to us, "Need any water?" "No thanks, we're set, " I shout back. Not to be turned down, the van sidles up alongside us 2 minutes later. "Want some bacon?"
That invitation brings us to an abrupt halt. A guy slides open the van door and pulls out a ziploc of crisp bacon. "We thought bacon might be code for something else," Brock jokes. Mac turns out to be travelling from British Columbia, which his accent would have betrayed had not I first noticed his license plate. He slices cold slabs of cheddar cheese to pair with the bacon and offers us his "shower," a plastic jug filled with river water with tiny holes in the cap.
"It must be nice traveling with someone else," Mac remarks. "I met a guy cycling on I-90 who talks to trees."
"Remember, bacon is the secret to a happy life," he calls out to us as he maneuvers his van back onto the road.
The next 2 hours are a blur for me as the temperature soars above 90 and the road bends upwards. I stubbornly refuse to listen to my ipod until cycling at least 30 miles. The white orb of the sun, unfiltered by clouds, gazes down on us like the lidless eye of Sauron.
The breeze, which until now had cooled our bodies, disappears and the still air infuses the whole landscape with a feeling of lifelessness. The stench of rotting animal fills my nostrils, although I can't see the carcass.
Finally, we reach the high country and a blessedly air-conditioned rest stop. The Oregon Trail, Mormon Trail, Pony Express, and California Trail all traced this portion of our route. I'm glad to at least be moving more swiftly than the pioneers through this sun-scorched highland.
As we continue pedaling late into the afternoon, I find it easier to appreciate the beauty of the bare landscape. Dramatic rocks lie in the distance; a particular formation, split rock, served as a waypost for Indians and explorers.
We stop for drinks at one of the only establishments in Jeffrey City. This place once boasted a sizeable population, but once the uranium supply dwindled, almost everyone moved away. The town still has an annual cribbage tournament. While the Guinness refreshes my spirits, I'm too tired to do more than toast to our anniversary with Brock and then sit quietly sipping.
Our goal for the night is a crossroads where our map indicates camping. We can find no other details besides "camping at the junction of 297 and 220," the vaguest description I've ever seen. We arrive at the junction, Muddy Gap, right before the only store closes and much to my relief the friendly employee informs us that yes, we can camp by the fire station. No water or bathrooms, but it's free and the store reopens at 7 tomorrow morning.
I don't think I've ever felt more in the middle of nowhere than I do now. Maybe it's the lack of trees. The only sounds are the infrequent passing of vehicles on the highway and the occasional roar of the transfer station in the distance.
No comments:
Post a Comment