July 2, 2013
Some Devastating News
Day 9: Harrisburg, Nebraska to Curt Gowdy State Park
I woke up several times in the night to strong wind shaking the tent. Later I heard some rain, but it didn't amount to much. The combination of the wind, some uneasiness with my choice of campsite, and a bad dream featuring a couple of unpleasant people I had barely thought of for fifteen years, contributed to a restless night.
The next morning I was up earlier than ever. This was my fastest packing up job since Minnewauken, Minnesota in 2008, when I was attacked by vicious mosquitoes. I rode out of town without seeing a single person. During my entire visit to Harrisburg, the county seat of Banner County, I never saw anyone.
Since there was no restaurant or store for miles, breakfast was a PayDay bar and a Snickers Bar, which would fortify me the 35 miles or so to the next town, LaGrange, Wyoming. As in the last few days, traffic was light. I got behind a paint striping crew for several miles (insert joke about bicycle touring being as exciting as watching paint dry).
I rolled into LaGrange and was greeted by a friendly lady gardening in her yard. She gave me the scoop on LaGrange: It is the home of a bible college ("unaccredited, of course", she noted wryly), and I just missed a recent parade, "which lasted about two minutes."
I walked into a cafe/store for a real breakfast of omelet, toast, and pancakes. The waitress seemed amused at the rate at which I wolfed it down; at one point I think I was eating my omelet with my fingers because my fork was busy at work on the pancakes. Fortunately she was able to interpret my occasional grunts as requests for more Diet Pepsi.
Afterward, as I paid for some snacks for the long ride ahead, the waitress and lady running the store asked about my plans. I was planning to ride several miles of dirt, but they advised against it, citing the condition of the road. Outside the store a man walked up and asked where I was going and what my route was. He also advised against the dirt road, and suggested going to Cheyenne instead. Local people are often hilariously wrong about distances and road conditions, but these people (and people in the West generally, I've noticed) seem more informed about their roads then people in the east. Afterhearing assurances that the highway to Cheyenne had good shoulders the entire way, I decided to do it.
Once again, there was no town in the roughly sixty miles on highway 85. Traffic was fairly busy, but the shoulder did prove more than adequate the entire way. There wasn't much to see for the nearly five hours I rode this section. A few miles from the outskirts of Cheyenne I needed to figure out a way to get on the oddly-named "Happy Jack Road." I pulled onto a truck turn off and looked at my highway map for a few minutes. While I was doing that, a truck driver got out of his 18-wheeler, walked up, and offered advice that had me riding on a side road into the northern outskirts of Cheyenne. I followed his advice and soon ended up at a coffee shop on a newly-developed edge of Cheyenne suburban sprawl.
The place was frequented by software developers working for a defense contractor in Cheyenne. They very much reminded me of the characters from the movie Office Space (in some ways that film is so realistic it's almost a documentary about computer programmers.) I tried to tune out the various buzzwords in their conversation, since I don't want to think much about software development, my usual obsession, on this trip.
After consulting Google Maps, and failing to figure out a way to navigate several city streets, I formed a plan to ride, possibly illegally, on the interstate for two miles, and take the "Happy Jack Road" exit. This was slightly harrowing, especially in 5:30 rush hour traffic, but it was over quickly enough, and I was on "Happy Jack", which had a super wide, smooth shoulder most of the 24 miles to Curt Gowdy State Park. The last few miles was a seriously steep climb, but I made it to the attractive, if primitive, campground. I was now at an elevation between six and seven thousand feet, and it was nice and cool. I said hello to the friendly woman in the motor home next to my site, and asked about showers. There were none in the park, but she offered the use of the one in her motor home! Thanks, Diana!
Note: Diana, a Laramie resident, also delivered some devastating news: Laramie does not have a Chipotle's Mexican Grill. Just the vastly inferior imitation Qdoba.
After the shower, I was tired and went to sleep quickly, despite the lack of a dinner. Apparently, all I need to do to avoid insomnia is ride 120 miles and not drink Diet Pepsi at night.
Today's ride: 120 miles (193 km)
Total: 816 miles (1,313 km)
| Rate this entry's writing | Heart | 2 |
| Comment on this entry | Comment | 2 |
2 years ago
http://www.wyomingtalesandtrails.com/hecla.html
2 years ago