Wyoming Winds: Part 2 - Day 28: Lander to Muddy Gap (83 miles)

"Why are we doing this again?" is a question I asked myself over and over again today. This was our most horrible day on the road by far, more miserable than our cold, wet day from Jackson to Dillon - a mental challenge as much as a physical challenge to get to our end destination.

Our plan was to leave Lander early to get a head start on the wind, but as usual the colder weather made us stay in our tent a little longer than anticipated, and the lure of Maccas across the road for breakfast and a coffee was too much of a temptation. Plus my bike needed a little TLC, as one side of my front brake was not releasing and I could barely wheel it up the short, steep slope leading out of our campsite by the Big Agie Popo River at the Holiday Lodge.

Riding out of Lander

We got on the road at about 9am straight into a headwind for 12 miles. The winds we complained about yesterday were nothing compared to the winds of today. It felt like we were cycling into gale force gusts of pure force trying to push us backwards with all it's might. On a rolling downhill section, I was only travelling at only 5 miles per hour, unable to push into the wind any faster.

We turned a corner and not only did the wind push us backwards, but it pushed us sideways as well, threatening to blow us out of the shoulder onto the road. There was a 23 mile stretch of uphill to get over the Beaver Divide / Rim, with the last 6 miles or so at 6% gradient. We were so busy trying to negotiate the wind, that we barely noticed the gradient, we were moving so slowly anyway.

I was riding in the hardest gear possible where I could still push against the wind, finding that I needed the constant, even pressure and power behind my pedal strokes to keep my wheels in contact with the ground, leaning the bike at some crazy angle against the wind, trying to prevent a wind gust from picking me up and pushing me into the middle of the lane.

We had noticed a black figure in the shoulder on the other side of the road from far away but could not discern what it was. As we got closer, I saw a red blinking light and realised it was Chuck on the other side of the road, pushing his bike ever so slowly up the Beaver Rim Pass. The wind had gotten the better of him. He was unable to maintain enough speed against the wind as he was climbing to be able to keep the bike in a straight line in the road's shoulder. I really felt for him, as pushing a loaded bike uphill on a day such as this is the last thing you want to.

Chatting with 75yo Chuck as he walked the pass

We crossed over and stopped and had a chat with him. He had left Lander about an hour before us and it had taken us a good 24 miles or so to catch him. Steve rode ahead for a bit while I stayed with Chuck, then Steve dropped his bike and ran back to us to wheel Chuck's bike for a short section to give him a bit of a rest. What I really liked about Chuck, is that at that moment, he wasn't too proud to accept Steve's help. Too proud maybe to ask for help, but not too proud or egocentric to turn down assistance when he could use it. And he was facing the elements still with a smile on his face and a joke at hand, "this will just stay between us, right?", telling me he was just happy to be outdoors. I really admired Chuck and his attitude.

Beaver Divide

Thankfully, the road took a short turn on a slight decline before it resumed a lesser gradient to its peak and Chuck was able to get back on his bike and pedal again. We stayed with him to our first rest stop of the day at the Sweetwater Station Rest Area where we knew we could refill our water bottles. This stretch of road today and tomorrow would have virtually no towns or services en-route. It is a bleak and barren part of Wyoming, where almost no trees grow, just sage bush, shrubs and dry grass surrounded in the distance by mountain ranges. And the wind just blows and blows and blows, whispering its sinister secrets to you.

Split Rock Bar & Cafe - the heart and sole of Jeffrey City

A couple miles before the rest stop, the road changed direction and our ride quadrupled in speed on the downhill to Sweetwater Station. From Sweetwater Station we had a predominantly downhill, rolling 19 mile ride into Jeffrey City with a raging tailwind at our backs. We let Chuck leave before us so we could keep an eye on him and met up with him at the pub at Jeffrey City. The pub, a motel and a pottery shop was all that remained of this ghost town which has a population of 58 people today, compared to 6,000 in the 1980's during the Uranium mining boom. The town disappeared as quickly as it sprung up once the US government realised that they couldn't compete with the Russians in this industry.

From here, we had another 14 miles of sweet, fast tailwind. Steve and I play a game to see who can roll down a hill and up the next the furthest without pedalling. Normally Steve wins hands down, often able to get over the next hill without pedalling whilst I stop moving about halfway up. This was not the case today. With this raging tailwind the wind blew me faster down the hill than Steve and right over the next hill whilst Steve had to start pedalling at the point where I normally need to. This was a small victory for me, because for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. My slighter and lighter frame gets blown around so much more in these gale force winds. I have to work so much harder to move forward against a head wind, and have to really muscle the bike to control it in the strong cross winds.

Split Rock, used as a navigational aid in the frontier days

The last 8 miles of our ride proved this. The wind picked up to an even stronger ferocity, and although we still had a tail wind, it was a cross-tail wind on a predominantly downhill section. This is the scariest scenario for me to be riding in the wind. You are cycling at speed without much control, leaning the bike so hard to keep from getting blown out of the shoulder, wobbling every time you try and brake and slow down, gripping the handlebars so tightly and pushing down so hard on the bike trying to muscle the machine into submission. At some point I decided what we doing was absolutely bordering on dangerous and I was riding in sheer terror. But there was nowhere to hide in this open terrain, there was nothing to shelter you from the elements. There was nothing to do but keep riding.

I admit, on this last section of the ride I started whimpering like a baby, riding with tears in my eyes and snot running out of my nose. It wasn't pretty, but I kept going, when all I wanted to do was curl up on the side of the road in the foetal position and stick my thumb in my mouth and bawl my eyes out.

Finally we got to Muddy Gap where we had decided to stop for the night, again catching Chuck just as we pulled into town which literally consisted of just a gas station. Luckily my eyes had dried out by the time we arrived as I didn't want Chuck to see that I'd had a melt down!

Muddy Gap Three Forks Gas Station

Camp for the night was a step up from our night in the livestock barn in John Day. To keep out of the wind, which we were thoroughly sick of by this time, we put up our tent in the carport beside the gas station wedged behind a hunter's truck and a shed.

(Not many photos today because the "No Photo" Nazi was on my case. Knowing it was going to be a long, hard ride, he wouldn't allow any time to stop and take photos, plus it was too hard to take photos whilst riding in the wind).

Camping at Muddy Gap

CRANKING ODYSSEY STATS

Total Odyssey miles: 1,669

Overall Fastest Speed: Steve (46 miles per hour) Mandy (36.3 miles per hour)

Bludge Days: 1

Bonks: nil

Dog chases: 3

Dummy Spits: Steve (2 - Day 10 because it rained; Day 16 - because the rocks in the river were slippery)

Mandy (2.5 - 0.5 Day 14 those freakin' wreckless Idaho drivers!; Day 26 because my bike computer had a meltdown; Day 28 because Steve wouldn't help hold my bike up in the wind after watching it nearly fall over 3 times whilst I tried to put my clothes away in the panniers because it looked like rain ahead)

Flats: Katie (4)

Wrong turns: 6

Beer of the day: N/A

Lesson of the day: tears are more of a hindrance than a help when they block your view of the road ahead!

No. of days with no shower: 12

No. of days in a hotel: 6

Starting weight: Steve (90kg) Mandy (51.5kg)

 

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