Day 31

Mileage: 124
Total mileage: 2752

Carl: 1 (updated)
Wyoming: 2

Last night I found an abandoned lot between the back of a Wal-Mart and the railroad tracks. There were some metal posts in the ground, so I pitched my tarp low to the ground against the wind and crawled under for the night. The wind whipped out of the west hard for most of the evening, but my knots and stakes held and I stayed dry despite a bit of rain around 3 in the morning.

When I woke up today, I packed up quickly before anyone could come move me, grabbed a sandwich at subway and stashed it for later before getting tacos for breakfast. Today I was riding north, with a few westward legs, and it was another tour of Wyoming's vast open spaces. The wind came out of the west pretty consistently, but I managed to deal with the crosswind pretty well, as I'm getting used to it.

About 30 miles into the ride, the road took a sharp left and I ended up heading due west. Wyoming was clever today and didn't have any crazy curveballs, it just hit me with a sucker punch of straight line winds. For 22 miles I was forced down to about 7 miles per hour and simply couldn't get above it. Oblique gusts would blast through and throw me off the shoulder into the gravel where I would sit for a few minutes, pondering the insanity of such a constant, strong wind. I've never seen anything like it in my life, my definition of headwind has been forever alerted.

The worst part was the mental aspect. I was going net downhill and still making less than 8mph. If the wind had just stopped, I could have ridden that whole segment in 75 minutes. As it was, that stretch took me just under 4 hours. At one point I saw a fully loaded cyclist going the other way. He was zipping along at something resembling 15mph while not pedaling and going up a slight hill. I was indignant. With that kind of tailwind, I could have made 200 miles today. As it was, I struggled to get my 50.

In Jeffrey city (pop 41) I faced a choice. There was nothing for another 20 miles straight west and then another 40 miles north into Lander. I was still holding out hope of seeing some fireworks tonight and hanging out with people to celebrate the fourth of July, but I knew I couldn't take 20 more miles of that wind right then. I stopped at the one public building in town, which happened to be a bar, to get some water and weigh my options.

In the bar I got a bud light and some ice water. The bartender was about 5 shots of whiskey past drunk, so his brother, who was sitting in the bar, helped me out. I noticed a flyer on the wall that directed cyclists to the community church and offered use of showers and restrooms, so I figured I'd go to the church to take a nap, wait till the wind died down and then make my last push into Lander late at night. I figured I might even see some fireworks on my way in.

As I went to pay for my drink and leave, the bartender wouldn't let me go. He kept offering me shots of free whiskey, saying I needed 'something stiffer' and repeating something about the gates of Valhalla. Finally, he took my 5 dollar bill, waved it around and then slapped it back down in front of me. 'Yer settled' he slurred. I wasn't about to turn down a free drink, so I took my opportunity and headed to the church.

As it turns out, an ACA (adventure cycling association) tour happened to be stopped at this church tonight as well. They were headed for a campground 20 more miles out, but the insane wind forced them to cut it short today as well. So, instead of taking a nap, I took a shower, hung out and ate dinner with them and played basketball with a couple people for a little while. Now that I'm typing this at 8p, the wind is just starting to die down, but I think I'm going to sleep here for the night with the others and just take a short one. I'm already going to be too late for most of the celebrations in Lander and meeting this tour group is better than what I probably would have found in Lander anyways.

Tomorrow I'm going to be out by 5:15. I've got a few westward legs and there's no way I'm going through that wringer again. That means early bedtime. G'night!

*UPDATE*

Last night I woke up around 12:45 and went outside to use the bathroom. I noticed two things. Firstly, there was a strong wind blowing out of the south. As I stood there, I considered that it might be worth bucking a strong crosswind if it meant I got a little bit of help on my northwestern leg. I'm not a huge fan of night riding though since it throws off my whole schedule, so I decided to go back to bed.

Then I noticed the sky. All day long it's been covered with huge scattered clouds, but right then in the middle of the night it was crystal clear. There was no moon, and even in the porch light I could see thousands of stars. I suddenly remembered that I was in the 120 mile wilderness and that when I checked my light pollution maps at home this was one of the darkest places in the world.

That settled it. I went back inside and packed up quietly, so as to not wake the other cyclists sleeping in the church. Around 1 o'clock in the morning I rode out onto the highway. On the very same road where I was trying hard to get 7mph yesterday afternoon I was cruising effortlessly around 13 despite the crosswind. Everything was absolutely dark. I rode about 15 miles out of town and then turned off my lights and lay down in the middle of the highway. There was no traffic, and I was on a long straightaway anyways, so I would have seen and heard it several miles out. Besides the stars in the sky, there was not a single light to be seen in any direction. No towns, no cars, no houses, no radio towers. Just absolute pitch blackness and the most stars I've ever seen in my life. The milky way was stretched out across to the south of me and I could see it so clearly, like I've never seen it before. If yesterday was the most frustrating ride of the whole trip, this morning was the most incredible.

I lay on the highway for probably 20 minutes without hearing anything but the wind and seeing anything but the sky. Then I got back on and flipped my lights on again. I did employ a Kansas technique for a few miles, though, just so I could see the stars again while riding. On some of the back roads in Kansas I learned how I could ride the white line on the edge of the road with my eyes closed. When I felt the texture of the road change back from smooth paint to rough asphalt, I would open my eyes and correct. For several more miles I turned off my lights and rode the line until I couldn't stare at the sky anymore.

4 cars passed me during the remaining 5 hours it took me to ride into Lander. About 20 miles out, the sky filled up with clouds and I could smell ozone. It started to rain, but never opened up into a real downpour, which I was thankful for. 10 miles outside the city I got a flat, which prompted me to inspect my tires and realize how worn out they are. I'm totally taking a down day today in Lander, after all this drama getting here, so I'll get new tires while I'm in town.

Now I'm headed to the park to get some sleep till the bike shop opens. G'morning!