Biking Straight East across the Powder River Valley

Day 29- July 14
HF Bar Ranch, Buffalo WY- Lasting Legacy Park, Gillette, WY
72.6 miles

We woke up and had breakfast at the ranch- a sleepy affair of Cap'n Crunch and goodbyes as everyone went back to work. Kyle drove us out to Beutler's where we stored our bikes in town, and we packed up and headed on the road. Thanks again HF Bar for showing us a great time!

The ride was 70 miles on the interstate with one rest area 35 miles in. There was a hard headwind as we started out of town but the road curved sharply after 1/2 mile and we had a tailwind most of the morning, pushing us over rolling hills on beautiful black asphalt with a wide shoulder and few cars. The morning flew by.

We had lunch at the rest area and on our way out a tan guy in a Hawaiian shirt and USD hat approached us and asked how far we were going. We got to talking and it turned out he was a history teacher at Lakeside School in Seattle, WA- the high school my mom graduated from back in...well, really so long ago. He was traveling with another history teacher from Lakeside who asked what my mom's name was.

'Oh yea! My daughter Alice went to Macalester in MN and she babysat for your mom!" We put two and two together and came to the mutual conclusion that he was the father of my childhood babysitter. When you're in nowhere- and the Powder River Valley really felt like nowhere- you can still find there are only six people in the world. And I suppose if there's only one somewhere in the 100 square miles- everyone has to gather there, even if it's only a highway rest area.

As barren as the Powder River Valley felt, we saw several active oil wells on our ride as well as a coal plant. The area produces 1/3 of the United States' energy. Eastern Wyoming is also notorious for its crooks: The Powder River is the location of Hole-in-the-Wall, where Billy the Kid and the Sundance Kid hid from the authorities. The afternoon ride was quiet and we rode fast, climbing often with the wind in our faces as often as our backs. Left to my thoughts, I considered the outlaws who hid in high plains. It would be an easy place to hide The hills were not high but they folded and creased together in compressed layers that faded into the horizon. Except for the Big Horns at our backs there was no mountain range to frame the scenery or place bounds on the plains. The hills seemed to stretch for eternity, capped only by the halfdome of cloudless sky above. It was an endless, hot, barren place, confusing for its repition. Probably an unforgiving but opportune place to hide.

We entered Gillette around 5. It was a town of BMX biking, men driving in trucks and skate parks, with highway signs and strip mall, shoulderless roads. After stopping at an overpriced campground we called the police station and were told to camp in Lasting Legacy park- a soft grassy area with War memorials, a soccer field and middle school sk8ter bois zooming around. We had pasta and split a giant pack of oreos with vanilla frosting. The sun sunk below the shallow hills as we wrote in our journals and soon after conked out.