Day Twenty: Buffalo, Wyoming to Gillette, Wyoming

June 29, 2019

It was a very, very late start this morning. I didn't know my destination today, although I liked the idea of getting as far as Gillette. But that would be nearly 100 miles, and I wasn't sure if that was feasible.

I quickly got through town, with a twinge of regret that I didn't see more of Buffalo, which looked kinda cool. I made a quick stop at a Maverik convenience store and got some snacks for the road. There was an interesting water treatment plant, or some related structure as I left town. "Interesting" is of course a relative term for me at this point.

It was a very empty road. Ranches, but a lot greener and grassier than I've seen on the trip so far. I had a sporadic headwind which was annoying, but which didn't ruin the ride for me.

Yet another reminder to "Eat Beef." Wyoming loves their beef. And also guns.

I picked up this lucky nickel, but I believe I inadvertently spent it a couple days later.

After 30-ish miles I reached Clearmont, population 142.

I had arrived just in time for "Clearmont Days", a celebration of the 100 years of the town's incorporation. There were lots of friendly locals in the town park. Multiple people directed me to the line for the free food, but the line was incredibly long and slow-moving, and I suspected there would be few, if any, vegetarian options here in Wyoming Beef Country.

Instead I rode to the adjacent gas station and cafe, where the nice woman working there advised me, as I walked in, that "I'm supposed to tell you there's free food next door in the park."

I ordered french fries and a root beer float (the milkshake machine was broken, unfortunately), and sat and talked to the woman for a while. I still didn't know my destination for the day, and there was a long, empty, hilly section coming up.

I got back on the road, which was almost completely empty except for motorcyclists.

I was amused by the choice of typeface for this ranch sign. Of course, I'm very easily amused at this point in the trip.

It was 4:30 by the time I reached Spotted Horse, which is nothing but a bar. There were four or five people sitting out front at a picnic table, smoking and drinking beer.

I walked into the place, and seeing no one working, walked back to the case of cool drinks and selected a Sunkist soda and a bottled water.

The old lady (the owner?) who'd been sitting outside came in, and forcefully expressed her displeasure that I'd walked behind the bar to get my own drinks. "You're not supposed to be back there!"

A younger woman came in to take my money. The old woman continued to berate me for violating whatever the rule was (whether hers, or Wyoming's) about being behind the bar. I briefly apologized, and was walking out, but she would not let it go. I realized that she was drunk.

"It's 37 miles to Gillette, and you'll never make it!"

"Oh, I'm sure I'll have no problem."

"There's nothing for 37 miles! No place to stop. You might have to sleep on the side of the road... Some have TRIED to do that!" [said in a sort of threatening tone.]

"I think I'll have a tailwind, and I'm averaging 100 miles a day... I'll be just fine." [why was I even engaging with this nasty, chain-smoking old drunk?]

At this point she tried to describe how hilly the next 37 miles would be, apparently couldn't form the words, and resorted to waving her hands to describe the rolling hills.

The younger woman seemed embarrassed, and thanked me for stopping in. Rather than saying what I was feeling, which was "Why don't you cough up your other lung, you old bag, and drop dead", I took the high road and got on my bike and rode off.

I do not recommend patronizing the Spotted Horse Bar.

I actually was slightly worried about the 37 very, very empty miles to Gillette, but I did in fact have the first tailwind of the day, and the old woman might have actually inspired the fastest riding of this trip. I counted down the miles and realized that I was going to make it despite her predictions. I entertained the ridiculous fantasy that I'd call her bar when I got to Gillette, and inform her that I'd made it after all.

I passed an extremely ugly mine as I approached Gillette, but didn't think to take a picture. I rode through an industrial zone which was sort of interesting. I saw billboards for products like "BLASTBAG" (the most awarded gas bag in the world!"

Gillette was a big town, by the standards of this tour - more than 30,000 people. Multiple chain hotels and restaurants. "Civilization."

I stopped at the first hotel I encountered: An enormous Best Western. I had a fancy grilled cheese sandwich from the hotel restaurant, contemplated washing my clothes in the guest laundry, but instead just rinsed them out in the sink as usual, and turned on the TV to watch the weather forecast, which did not look especially promising.

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Today's ride: 98 miles (158 km)
Total: 1,614 miles (2,597 km)

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