Wednesday, July 6, 2016

Why? Oming

Day 30 - July 6th
61.4 miles
Total: 1192.8 miles
Moving Avg: 7.5 mph

The day started out with a solid climb out of a very beautiful river valley. As we gained elevation, we saw a dog eyeing us on the road. After about two miles of watching us, she came and introduced herself to us. No collar, save for some green spray paint on her neck, we didn't know where her home was. She definitely has a large roaming area.

She followed us for the next six to seven miles. She even chased two Pronghorn through the shrubbery for a very fast half mile run. Eventually she came back to us. We tried to get her to go home, but she kept following us into the Great Basin. Since we were gaining elevation, it was easy for her to keep up with us.

Once we hit the downhill she had to run to keep up. Then we passed a cattleguard. She struggled to get through it, and we made our distance. A mile further down the road I looked back, and in the distance I saw her running down the road after us. Fortunately we were too far and too fast, so we lost our tail. (Unfortunately too. She was super beautiful, very calm, and would have made for the most amazing "she followed me home" story)

A couple miles later, we ran into a rancher. He spoke no english, but that didn't stop him from telling us his life story. From what we understood, he moved from Steamboat to Wyoming as the prices were unreasonable in Steamboat. He has five kids, four in Mexico, and one in California. He was out repairing the fences of his ranch.

After that conversation, we made the final descent into the Great Basin, including a four mile stretch along a road that was perhaps the least roadlike experience we have had on the trail. Apricots kept teasing me every time I referred to the path as a road. Surely it was too beat up and overgrown to be considered a path for ATVs.

Then thirty miles of nothing but unbearably bumpy straight road of nothingness. With a solid side wind.

Thirty straight miles.

The view never changed.

Thirty straight miles.

The washboard gravel was consistently bumpy.

Thirty straight miles.

Every passing truck kicked sand in the air as we closed our eyes and held our breath for a second or two.

Thirty straight unchanging miles.

Nearing wamsutter the wind was stronger, and a light rain fell for a brief moment on us. We settled into the idea of getting a hotel for the night. Tomorrow we have 92 similar miles to Atlantic City. We are waking super early to try and beat the wind.

I don't know if we will make it all 92, but we are going to try. For kicks, you should take a look at the link below to see the vast barreness of the Great Basin that we are crossing.

Time to sleep. Super Early morning tomorrow.

Live life at a slower place.

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