July 7, 2005
ROUTE: Riverton to Casper, WY
DISTANCE: 120 miles
WINDS: Light headwind in early AM turning to nice tailwind by 10
WEATHER: 60F at ride start warming to 96F
TERRAIN: 60 miles of gentle climbing then rolling into Casper
TOTAL CLIMBING: 2400 feet
RIDE OVERVIEW: Here we are in Casper, WY, the second largest city in Wyoming with a population of approx. 50,000. Casper was settled on the banks of the Platte River in 1888 (our motel sits directly on the river), and was the point of convergence for all major westward trails--Oregon, Mormon, Bridger, Bozeman, and Pony Express--so it developed as a crossroads to the West and Northwest. It boasts having the largest mall in central Wyoming. Riders will stop here for a Rest Day, many of them meeting spouses or family members.
Riders need this day off to kick back and relax. This is their ninth day of riding since their last rest day in Boise and it was one one of those days that tests bicyclists' mettle. The riders had been dreading today even more than the 116 desolate miles into John Day. And the miles they covered today after passing a rock outcropping at about 20 miles out that Mike likes to use to frame his photos (above and left) were equally desolate high prairie with nothing higher than sagebrush, unless it was the occasional pronghorn antelope or steer. Breakfast was early--5:30--this morning, and load followed directly after to give riders a chance to take to the road and get a few cool miles behind them on this tough day of riding. Temps were predicted to be in the high 90s before ride's end, but riders were fortunate to have a tailwind for most of the ride.
I provided SS #1 and Barb set up SS#2 today. I set up SS#1 in a gravelly area on one side of a narrow dirt road that snaked up and over the side of a hill. When riders arrived, they laid their bikes everywhere, including on this road. You guessed it. Along comes a semi, sans trailer, and wants to turn onto the dirt road . . . the only one for miles. While cyclists scrambled to move their bikes and gear, the driver got out and chatted for a bit. Seems he needed to go over the hill and pick up a flatbed trailer for his cab. (What was over the hill we all wondered). Murphy's Law of Cycling, I guess. Sort of like when I back White onto an overgrown track and the instant I'm set to wait for riders, a vehicle appears and either wants to get in or out.
Barb set up SS#2 in the shade of a billboard and near a little store in Hiland, WY (fifth photo in Photos of the Day below). It was still early enough to be somewhat cool in the shade of the billboard and Box, which Barb had parked strategically to catch what shade she could. This is the day Barb dons her sun protective clothing that has long legs and sleeves. One is really at the mercy of the sun out in these wide open spaces where the deer and the antelope roam.
About 15 miles before SS#3 riders came upon a small dot called Hell's Half Acre. It's only an RV park, a house, and a restaurant, but it's a welcome sight, and the food is fabulous. Almost everyone stopped to cool off and to get something for lunch. Just like a scene out of the old west, riders parked their bikes instead of their horses on the hitching post in front of the restaurant. The restaurant sits right on the edge of a scenic gorge that Indians used to slaughter buffalo years ago. They would stampede a herd over the cliffs to get meat for the winter. Today the gorge is a beautiful, peaceful sight that belies its intended use.
Inside the Hell's Half Acre restaurant and store, riders enjoyed Buffalo Burgers with enough meat in them to provide protein aplenty to march an army . . . just what they needed today. Last year when Mike asked how much an ice cream would be, the owner snapped back, "$234.50." He explained that ice cream is at a premium out here. Since he has the only ice cream within 200 miles, I guess he can ask whatever he wants. In fact while we were there, the Schwann truck made a delivery. Many of the riders had ice cream after their lunch fare. I ordered a cold sandwich to go, because we were only 15 miles from where I needed to set up the last SS, and the frontrunners were running with the tailwind. I got to the SS and set it up just in time to eat my sandwich before the first rider rolled in.
It had really heated up by SS#3, which I set up in the dirt in front of an abandoned building, a rusting out automobile, and a house trailer that obviously housed a family who were not home. The metal swing set blew noisily in the wind. Between riders--most of whom had just tanked up at HHA and stopped only briefly to sign in and top off their water--I pondered the lives of this little family so isolated from others. What on earth caused them to live out here? What did the adults do to earn money? Where did they buy their groceries? Where did the children go to school? Who did the children play with? I mentioned this to Opie (Matt) when he rolled in all smiles. He looked around and said, "But look at all the space they have to roam around in." Guess I have to polish my rose-colored glasses a little.
By the time riders reached my little oasis at SS#3 they had put 91 miles behind them, we'd gone through almost 60 gallons of water, the sunscreen was nearly depleted, the peanut butter had turned to liquid, the M&M's in the trail mix had melted, and the bananas were turning brown. I was fast turning into a raisin in the sun and wind myself. To make matters more interesting, I loaned Theresa my sunglasses (somehow she'd come all these miles without hers), but as soon as she left the SS, I realized I'd made a mistake. I needed them in the glaring sun. Then I remembered that I had my cycling sunglasses in my handlebar bag. Ahhh relief.
From SS#3, it was only about 30 miles to Casper. Riders covered that distance in a snap, looking forward to a swim in the motel pool and a greatly appreciated rest day.
Once again this year on my way into Casper I saw the sign for Poison Spider Road. I'd love to know how it got named.
HEARD ON THE ROAD TODAY:
- "Let's get back on the road." "O tay Buckwheat."
- "I bet I know what we're having for dinner tonight . . . rabbit." (There were a lot of dead rabbits along the roadside.)
- Theresa lost a screw from her cleat. Barb needed a screwdriver, so she said to Dave: "Do you have a flathead?" Dave replied, "That's a very mean thing to say to a guest."
- The lyrics, "I can see for miles and miles and miles" just wouldn't leave Tim's head today; I used these lyrics for the day's subtitle.
- At Hell's Half Acre Jill's camera quit working. Val said, "Could it be . . . SATAN!"
DUH! OF THE DAY: Guess I should claim it. When we got to the hotel, my room was next to a back entrance door and had a sliding glass door on the parking lot side that wouldn't open. I traipsed back to the Front Desk and asked how to open the sliding door as I wanted to unload White near my room. The desk clerk told me that the door didn't open . . . but the back door did and was right next to my room. DUH!
MOST FLATS OF THE DAY AWARD: Goes to Murray who had 8 on this day when stopping to fix a flat in the hot sun turns one into a crispy critter.
PHOTOS OF THE DAY:
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| Cliff demonstrates a lesson from his newest read: How to Make People Think You're Normal. |
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| Carla, the proprietress of the store in Hiland, population 10 on the city limit sign. When Mike asked her where the 10 people were, she replied, "Eight of them left years ago. |
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| Billboard in Hiland that riders used as a bike stand. This is notable because its nearly the only thing out here. |
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| 74-year-old Bill does just as the sign says as he daily muscles his yellow submarine (recumbent) down the road toward the Atlantic Ocean. [Sign says:: YOUR KIDS THINK YOU ARE A DINOSAUR. PROVE THEM WRONG.] |
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| SS#2, a happening place |
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| Josh sporting his new Primal arm warmers. Wish you could see them better because they're serious stylin', almost like cloth tattoos. |
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