GDMBR Day 37

• Start: Abandoned meth ranch, Nowhere, WY

• Finish: Wild Bill’s B&B, Atlantic City, WY

• Miles: 46.2 miles

• Odometer: 1,488.3 miles

• Ascent: 2,900 feet

• Descent: 2,100 feet

• Location: https://share.garmin.com/Judice

Lowlights:

Today’s headwinds were fierce but inspiring. They inspired me to come up with a list of things I hate (from most hated to less hated):

1. New Mexico “peanut butter” mud

2. Colorado “peanut butter” mud

3. Wyoming headwinds 

4. A rectal exam

5. Steep climb up a washboard gravel road

6. A dental cleaning

Last night the high winds rattled my tent all night long. The weather forecast foretold of 18 knot winds today so I packed up from meth camp at 4:30 AM to ride in the morning “calm”. Yeah, that didn’t happen. I rode 46 miles staring at the ground (the only way to ride in the wind) and trying to stay upright. Did I mention it was in the mid-40s all day and I wore all my layers, including my rain jacket. It was brutal. 

Highlights:

After limping into Atlantic City, WY on fumes, I stopped at the local saloon, drank two hot coffees, and ate a double bacon cheeseburger with fries. Later, I returned for a steak and potato and beer. Every day since leaving Mexico I pass hundreds and hundreds of cattle grazing in fields, and weave around leftover patties on the dirt road. So today I honored these grass fed beeves with my palate. 

These past two days I’ve seen an explosion in the number of pronghorn, usually grouped in 1-4 in number. When facing fierce winds or climbs, listening to an audiobook or podcast just doesn’t cut it; I need music. Well, those pronghorn have bionic hearing. They will turn and look for me from a long, long way off, but they only seem to see me as I approach…and then they’re off to the races. I feel a little guilty for spooking them because they won’t stop running until they’re in the next county. 

I’ve seen quite a few wild horses usually in groups of 4-7 horses. They don’t often run at the sight of me, but when they do they could easily run down those pronghorn. 

Momma cows and calves are often spooked at the sight of my approach; the bulls – never. They just hang there like their big ball sacks. I know that seems gross, but I can’t help but peep their ball sacks. Impressive. And you too can lose your mind, just take a long, solo bicycling trip.