Day 70 - 8/16/16 Riverton to Crowheart, WY

Man, some of these small towns can get to you.  Crowheart is basically just a name on the map to match the name of the convenient store in town.  There's no park or public space or anything here, the store clerk said it's pretty much ranches and a store.  I haven't tried to look around yet but I'm pretty sure this picnic table in front of the store is the center of town.  I don't have any service to look up anything nearby but I think it's just wide open spaces until Dubois 30 miles away.  I guess I'll keep sitting here until the store closes tonight and then figure out what to do.

Day 69 - 8/15/16 Hiland to Riverton, WY

There's something that happens occasionally on a bike ride that I can only describe as a 'magic roll'.  With little effort on flat ground, I sometimes find myself moving at 20 mph or more.   I even experience this magic roll going uphill when it doesn't make much sense to be accelerating while climbing but, it happens.  It's like something in the road has some sort of magnetic relationship with my bike that just carries me along.  I averaged 20 mph from Hiland to Shoshoni, the next town 40 miles away.  

Cruising down a big hill is great and all but, my favorite riding scenario is just cruising at a high speed on flat ground.  I guess this magic roll can be reduced to the term 'tailwind' but, magic is just science that works, said someone older and wiser than myself.  It's just over 20 miles from Shoshoni to Riverton if I stayed on Rt. 26 but, I saw on the map a rails to trails path which looked about the same distance.  Assuming this trail that snakes out away from the main road would be more scenic, I took it.  I was right about that part.  It was very beautiful out in the middle of nowhere.  The part I was wrong about was thinking this trail was meant for bicycles.  

It was not.  There were some smoother, flatter segments but, for the most part large rocks and bumps made up the 20 mile trail.  Some parts I was going about 12 mph and others I had to get off my bike and walk for about 10 minutes.  Every now and then I'd come across a low, short bridge that would span the distance of a shallow ravine.  One in particular had some wide gaps between the boards, big enough to get a bike tire stuck in.  And that's what happened.  And what happened next was I lost control and baled over the side into the ravine and Ginger came tumbling after.  

Man, it could've been so much worse than it was.  I'm fine from the fall but, my bike landed with a thud on one of the panniers which bent the rack a little and knocked the lockring loose on my cassette.  I managed to make it into town and over to the local bike shop where the owner, Clay, fixed her back up.  I couldn't thank the guy enough, I don't know if I could've gone on much farther after that fall.  But Clay also told me how gunked up and dirty my chain and drivetrain was and how my brakes needed adjusting and pretty much how I needed to take better care of my bike on the road.  And he's right.  

I guess I've been so concerned with other things like getting supplies and which town I'm riding to next and where I'm going to sleep that I never made much time to give my bike the attention she needs.  I was happy and sad after leaving the bike shop.  Happy that everything worked out after riding through that Hellish 'bike' trail and falling off a bridge.  Sad that I know so little about caring for this machine that has carried me almost 3,000 miles so far.  But after settling into a motel (because I did not have the energy to find some place to stealth camp) the sadness became a sort of inspiration; a wake up call telling myself if I really want to continue touring, I need to learn more about caring for my bike.

Day 68 - 8/14/16 Casper to Hiland, WY

If there's a competition for most desolate state, Wyoming is the frontrunner so far.  At least with the corn fields in Iowa, there's evidence of human presence.  But with Wyoming, the barren fields of grassland are just that: barren.  I was aiming for Powder River today but, when I got there, I didn't see any businesses that weren't boarded up to fill up my water.  

So I kept riding.  The only reason I moved on is because Jon, the guy I stayed with in Casper, told me about Hiland just 20 miles past Powder River.  I had no idea it was there, the name doesn't even show up on Google Maps.  But sure enough, it's real.  At the top of a hill I could see a small cluster of campers, old cars and a couple ranch-style homes in no particular arrangement to suggest a town.  At the bottom of the hill I saw the sign: Hiland Pop 10.  10 people live here.  Jon told me there's a bar here where I could get water, so I kept riding until I saw it.  The Bright Spot, I guess in this town it is.  

Cow skulls hang on the patio posts, picnic tables and mismatched chairs rest in the ahade with no one in them.  It smells like cigarettes inside, each table in the lounge/pool hall/convenience store is ornamented with an ashtray for a center piece.  Through a small door behind the counter is the bar looking like something I could only imagine in a movie about the underbelly of American life.  

One wall is covered in photos of hunters holding up the bodies of dead animals, rhinos to grizzly bears and a whole slew of antlered creatures; another wall littered with business cards and stickers with fun sayings like, "Meat is not murder!  It's a tasty way to enjoy a dead animal"..."Drill Earth first, we'll drill the other planets later"..."If Obama's the answer, how stupid was the question?" and "Welcome to Wyoming, frankly I don't give a fuck how you did it back home."  And every empty space is filled with dollar bills; some with just a name and a date, others with handwritten sayings like, "Trump 2016" or "Fuck it".  

The TV in the corner is playing The Patriot and the bikers that wandered in are providing their own commentary in between reading aloud the offensive stickers that strike them as funny.  In the lounge/pool hall/convenience store, a French family is hanging around, children and all, probably taking this all in as a genuine impression of America that they'll go home and tell their friends about.  

They even wrote on a dollar and stapled it to the ceiling – there's probably more money on the walls than this place is worth.  I pinned up my own dollar as well when asked by the bartender if I wanted to.  What the Hell, you know?  Everyone is gone now, no more bikers or French folk, even the bartender is barely present and The Patriot just started from the beginning on TV.  How would I describe America after seeing all these small, desolate towns in these middle states I've never seen before?  

Is ecclectic an appropriate answer or is that too broad? Where else has hat French family been?  They were all wearing cowboy boots and straw hats.  Is The Bright Spot what they were looking for?  What they expected to find?  This country is truly so big and the big cities are such a small percentage of what makes up this massive land.  I'm at a loss trying to put my finger on what this country is all about.  

Maybe I'm just distracted by The Patriot on TV or maybe I just keep finding better and better stickers on the wall.  Here's one that says, "Dip me in honey and throw me to the lesbians!" right above a confederate flag sticker.

Day 67 - 8/13/16 Midwest to Casper, WY

I wasn't planning on riding to Casper but, it is one of the bigger cities in Wyoming and I needed some stuff for my bike, a new tire and a few tubes to get me the rest of the way to the West Coast.  If you can consider my time in Chicago as the halfway mark on this trip then the 2nd half has been dramatically different than the first – not in a bad way, maybe even for the better.  I have a place to stay tonight through Warm Showers only because Casper is a bit of a city and it was easier to find someone than it would've been to find a place to camp.  

But the last time I stayed with someone was on my last day in Iowa.  I stayed in a couple motels in South Dakota but, looking back on it, thise rooms were a completw waste of money.  There's no need to spend cash on a place to lay your head for the night and is it the end of the world if I don't get to shower or do laundry for a week or two?  I guess meeting and ridin with Derek made me realize how self-sufficient a person living on the road can be.  

And spending a night in a hotel just takes you away from the excitement and unpredictability of the road, numbing you with a steady drip of TV IV to make you forget how boring it is inside a makeshift "home away from home".  On my way into Wal-mart today I saw 2 people bogged down with massive hiking backpacks and a little dog.  It's almost impossible to contain the excitement of seeing someone else who's living on the road.  Bret and Julie and their little dog, Pluto have been hopping trains and hitchhiking together for the last year or so.  They looked weathered and dirty and they probably stunk worse than me but, seeing the joy on their faces made them seem like dust-covered angels.  Bret was really interested in what it's like traveling on a bike.  "You can really get anywhere ya want on that thing, can't ya?"  Something like that is what he asked me.  He said they sometimes wait for days for a ride some place.  Julie said they play a lot of card games to pass the time.  Pluto didn't say anything but he didn't seem to mind being led around by the vagabonds holding his leash.  They were both from the East, like me.  Bret from Jersey and Julie from Pennsylvania.  There the 3 of us stood, thousands of miles from home becoming points of interest on each other's journey.

Day 66 - 8/12/16 Wright to Midwest, WY

I allowed myself to sleep in today, all the way to 5:30am.  The weather was predicting a high of only 81, very manageable even if there are lots of hills. I thought last night was going to be a repeat of the night before in the grasslands.  Just as I got my tent set up beneath the pavilion outside of the Wright welcome center, a dark, swirling mass of clouds moved in.  

A few low rumbles and some some puny gusts of wind were all the sky had though.  I slept easy.  It was strange waking up to an already brightening sky.  I'm used to dawning the headlamp before I'm even out of the tent but, I guess I'm taking it easy today.  And so did Mother Nature.  Barely any winds with blue skies and the big white clouds you find in Van Gogh paintings above the cypress trees.  I've been sitting in this truck stop convenience store for a while, letting my phone charge.  

It doesn't seem like there's much else to see in Midwest but, I'll find out shortly.  The biker traffic is still going on so there's lots of folks in jeans and bandanas, tons of leather and beards and ponytails and naturally, tattoos.  I don't talk to many of them, maybe they can't see me because my bike doesn't make any noise.  I rode past a bike in the Badlands and he lifted his feet up to make pedaling motions.  I didn't know if he was mocking me but I didn't really care anyway.  I've just been sitting here reading.  I'm finally reading "On the Road".  

I've never been able to get into it but I'm guessing that's because I've never been on the road before.  Sal Paradise is in Frisco bow as he calls it, working as a special policeman at the barracks, not having the guts to lay down the law, I can't blame him.  Meanwhile, people are filling up their 64 oz. cups with soda, or pop, as they call it.  I don't think I've seen anyone drink water since I left Pennsylvania.  Maybe this is just human nature, taking the path of least resistance, indulging in whatever is put in front of you.  

This truck stop is the only thing in town and there is nothing but pre-packaged, processes, and sugar-filled products here.  It's hard to tell who to blame for this kind of lifestyle.  Maybe this is just making the best of a bad situation, not having anything for miles and miles outside of the town line, but, who am I to judge?

Day 65 - 8/11/16 Newcastle to Wright, WY

Spirits are high at the end of the day.  I'm not sure where this burst of energy came from because I felt like death getting into town today.  The craziest storm I've ever been caught in rolled over me last night and almost took my tent with it.  70 miles separates Newcastle and Wright, an area called Thunder Basic National Grassland.

 I wanted to shave some miles off today's ride so I rode about 12 miles out into the middle of nowhere before I saw the ominous clouds, pitches my tent and took cover.  Mother Nature didn't waste any time getting right into it and from 8 to 9 I was holding my tent up from the inside, pushing back against the most powerful gusts of wind I've ever felt.  Sticking your head out the car window on the highway doesn't even compare.  

Then came the rain, hard and fast like water balloons pelting my tent.  And for the finale: hail.  Luckily, this portion of the performance was a bit of a dud.  I guess storms like this are the downside of big, open plains.  But I saw the brightside at 1 in the morning when I came out of my tent to take a leak.  A sky full of stars, and a couple of them fell in the short time I was staring upwards.  4:00am came way too spon and I was thrown right into another morning of breaking down camp, eating a banana and hitting the road.  And what a road.  Winds pushed me around all morning and into the afternoon, they came from all directiona except from behind, what I desperately needed.  Mother Nature took no pity on me today.  

The smell of death was all too present.  Dead rabbits everywhere; I couldn't tell if they were hit by cars or drowned by last night's storm.  The occasional dead deer washed up in the shoulder, definitely dead for some time, they were mostly bones and a little fur.  Nothing was comforting.  The only live creature I saw was a rattlesnake.  But finally, after riding 65 miles through the wasteland, Wright appeared before me, on top of a hill no less.  But I'm alive and well with a place to pitch my tent tonight and a newfound appreciation for the power of Mother Nature.  I just hope she knows that so she doesn't try to prove her strength again.

Day 64 - 8/10/16 Custer, SD to Newcastle, WY

It wasn't hard to find a service road that led right into Black Hills National Forest.  It's funny how many campgrounds I passed in this area when it's no big secret that National Forests are fair game for free camping.  Sure, there's no modern amenities but, for me, it's all I need.  Back on the main road my ride started by going downhill quite a bit.  I hate to complain about going downhill but, so early in the morning it was like taking a cold shower.  It certainly woke me up.  

Another beautiful ride filled with long hills and lots of switchbacks through the outer edge of the Black Hills brought me into Wyoming.  This is the 9th state on my journey which is kind of nuts.  

If I were home, I would be having that end-of-summer anxiety where work starts to get busy again and the warm weather is starting to turn cold and thoughts of that dreaded "W" word start to brew in the ol' brain.  But I'm not home.  I feel like summer hasn't even started yet.  Summer for me will be when I get to warm, sunny California.