Saturday, August 01, 2009
Day 47: Laramie, WY to Rawlins, WY
After our long, awful day we weren't too anxious to get up. Bu the promise of a hot breakfast ultimately convinced us. The Ramada had someone making omelets which we very much enjoyed.
After dragging the bike back downstairs we got slowly on the road, in quite a bit of pain. Our first stop was the Post Office, to mail some extra papers back home (every pound counts!). The Post Office we found was in a gas station, and the clerk had to stop manning the cash register in order to mail our packages.
We wanted to spend some time in Laramie, specifically hunting for a bike shop to replace our tire. I called a couple of shops, finally finding one on the far north side of town that thought we had a tire our size. On the way there, we saw what we thought were interesting license plates.
Our current theory is that the number on the left of the cowboy is the county number and the number on the right side is the car number. All in decimal.
We looked around the bike shop, eventually finding something that was close to our tire, but not exactly our tire. From what we'd heard and read, both Lander and Rawlins had bike shops, so we'd have to press on and try to buy a new tire at one of those.
On our way out of town, we stopped at another gas station, since it was likely the last place we would be able to stop for a long, long time. While there, we met a couple who were also on a cross country adventure. Two years earlier they'd sold everything they owned, bought an RV, and ever since had been traveling the country. They were currently on their way to San Francisco, where they'd bought a place and were going to finally settle down. Jillian and I munched on some wafers and seeds.
Wyoming is one of a few states where cyclists can ride on the interstate, in part because interstates are often the only way to get from one place to another. Someone in Colorado had told us that there were a few counties in Colorado which have more paved road than the entire state of Wyoming. We'd be taking the interstate the entire way to Rawlins.
Interstates are boring. Really boring.
Unfortunately, it wasn't long before construction started.
Riding on the interstate made me nervous. Riding on the interstate in a construction zone was even worse. After passing through a few barrels we were stopped by a cop. Wyoming State Troopers may be the nicest people alive. He said that while there was going to be something like fifteen miles of construction, they were only redoing bridges, so most of the pavement would be empty, and that as long as we were careful to walk on some of the bridges it would be no problem for us to ride in the construction. Half the interstate, all to ourselves!
Thank you much, Wyoming State Police.
We'd checked the Garmin before leaving and learned of a gas station about twenty miles in at exit 290. We were so excited.... only to find that it was closed. Heartbreaking. And the gas station was the only thing there. The only thing there. We rode over a cattle guard to get off the exit ramp, and we carefully followed the only paved road to the former gas station. We turned around again, noticing for the first time a port a potty behind some bushes.
The port a potty was actually the location of a little camp, where construction workers lived rather than commute twenty miles or more to the nearest town. We arrived at just the right time, with some workers letting the driver of an SUV use the port a potty. They were kind enough to leave the door unlocked for us.
Then it was back into the construction. More boring, uneventful, interstate riding. In some ways it was even more boring than regular highway riding. Since there were no cars and no shortage of trucks, the roads had quite a bit of dirt and stone on them. A couple miles later, we came across a "Honeypot"
The Honeypot was a portable port a potty. Awesome. Little shaky in the wind through.
Ah, the wind. Every five miles we saw an appropriate sign.
Sometimes there were even little windsocks attached to the signs.
In such a windy place, it would only be fitting for there to be windmills.
We'd just arrived to the little town of Arlington, home of a little, tiny gas station.
Inside was a sign that listed answers to all of our questions.
We bought some lunch and sat down at their table for a while, enjoying the reading material.
American Towman. Complete with comic strip. Amazing.
Back on the road again, we rode over the top of the ridge. About six miles later we ran across a rest area. It was an interesting place, with picnic tables surrounded on three sides by large brick walls. I read the sign, which described how the wind cleared mountains of snow in the winter, creating exposed food for animals to eat. It also had a ridiculous lie on it.
We couldn't stay long though. It was dinner time already, and the wind hadn't died down at all. We rode another 12 miles before hitting WY-72, which is where the Transamerica Trail hooks up with our route. Here we found another gas station, where we could hit the bathroom and grab some more snacks.
Then, for the second night in a row, we got to see a sunset. At least this time it wasn't raining. And with night came in a break in the winds.
Wyoming had been a terrible, terrible place all day. Many times we'd felt fortunate to make six or seven miles an hour. Now, in the dark, it was fantastic. It wasn't too cold and there was no wind. Since we were on the interstate there was sufficient shoulder. Since we were in Wyoming, there was almost no traffic.
A few miles out of Sinclair, we stopped when we saw a gas station sign. But this late at night, it wasn't open. We rode on.
Of course, before long, construction started up. Suddenly it felt like we were riding on rumble strips. When we arrived in Sinclair, we got off the highway to stop for a few minutes at a truck stop. Fortunately, this truck stop was of the 24 hour variety. We didn't stay long though, wanting to get to Rawlins as soon as we could. From our rest stop we could see the lights of the Sinclair Refinery.
Yes, I know the picture is a little shaky. It was cold and we were exhausted.
Although we didn't much care for the construction, we very much liked the shoulder. We got back on the highway and rode on to Rawlins, just a short, if cold, hop down the road. Interestingly enough, it was down US-30, a road we'd first been on back in Pennsylvania.
We pulled off the highway, getting on US-287 (Which we were going to be on for a while). It was nearly 11 as we found or way to a McDonalds. I carefully walked the bike down a hill while Jillian ran over to the drive through to ask if we could take the bike through. Thankfully, they let us. We got some food, and then set out to find our hotel. They had an awesome drink machine.
We rode into the 1st Choice Inn, where we tried to check in. The 1st choice is a short little cinder block building, which kind of feels like a prison inside. However, it was by far the least expensive room in town. Jillian watched the bike while I tried to check in, only to be thwarted by a broken credit card machine. There was another couple there who were trying to check in as well, who didn't really speak much English. As I didn't speak Mandarin, I wasn't much help explaining that the problem wasn't with the card, it was with the reader. After twenty or thirty minutes of trying different cards and many hand gestures, the clerk finally agreed to give us both rooms on the condition we formally checked in during the morning.
While the room did look a bit like a prison, with cinder block everywhere, it was a warm place to spend the night. We ate our McDonalds food as though it was a gourmet meal. We thought about the next day's ride. Lander had to be our next stop, as it was the next place with a hotel. Unfortunately, it was also 130 miles away. We decided it would be impossible, especially since it was midnight already. Instead, we decided to call Jillian's parents in the morning and hopefully cash in on their remaining rewards points for a night in the Hampton Inn.
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| posted at: 01:21 |
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