Basin Behind, Mountains Ahead

 Dear reader(s?) 

 Note the  hopeful use of the plural ‘readers’, indicating some wishful thinking on my part that there are at least two folks out there with too much time on their hands who continue to read my periodic ramblings. But perhaps I assume too much and Bill is the only reader since he posts these notes.  This is the most likely case.

Anyway, when last I  left off we were in Lander, WY, getting some bike repairs and readying to leave for Atlantic City, WY, the start of the ride into the Great Divide Basin. The ride from Lander was short - only 35 or so miles - but had about 3,500 feet of climbing, a stiff headwind all the way, and a cold rainstorm to end it. We were glad to get to AC.  AC is a tiny town (population ‘about 57’). But it has a nice restaurant and wonderful little cabins at the Miners Delight Inn, a small establishment run by Wild Bill and Miss Carmela, both friendly and gracious almost to a fault. The cabins were clean and well maintained. There was a central bathroom and kitchen but, like the cabins, it was clean and had some amenities you might not expect, tea, chocolate, and frozen pizza.  They served breakfast at 7:00 AM family style with all the cyclists (about six of us) sitting around the table exchanging stories. A real treat. Oh, by the way, Wild Bill also runs Wild Bill’s gun and ammo shop on the premises, an incentive to make sure we were on our best behavior. We were. 

We left AC in the morning to begin the 100+ > mile ride through the Great Divide Basin, so called because any rainfall in the Basin does not drain, it simply evaporates. The Basin is a tree-less (and I literally mean no trees, no shade) rolling landscape of shrubs and dried grasses for as far as the eye can see. It has a certain majesty to it that awes and demands respect. It can be dangerous. If you get caught out there with a major mechanical issue in scorching heat or in a thunderstorm that turns the road into  peanut butter mud and you simply can’t progress, and you have not husbanded your water supplies, you’re in real trouble. There was an occasional vehicle that passed us on the edges of the Basin but nothing you could count on. There are one or two places to filter water but they’re well into the route and, depending on conditions, you might not reach them. 

So how was our ride in the Basin? Pretty good. We got especially lucky with the weather, which appears next to impossible to predict. We had a crystal clear sky and moderate temps (70-85), not the scorching heat it could have been, a slight tailwind most of the first day. And no PB mid, even though it had rained heavily the two days before. The road is dirt and gravel, but not too rough, and since the elevation difference between AC and Rawlings (the other side of the Basin) is only a few hundred feet, one might presume that there is little climbing. One (that would be me) would be wrong. The road has endless undulations as it follows the Basin’s natural contours and we wound up climbing about 3800 feet over 78 miles. We ‘cowboy’ camped (meaning: no formal campground, just a flat area by the side of the road) that night and were treated to a brilliant starlit sky. No moon, no clouds, no ambient light. If you like looking up and wondering - and I do - it could not have been better. It was well worth the effort to be there for just that experience.  

We left the Basin the next day and arrived in Rawlins, a small, tired town that has seen better days. But we met some nice folks, got a good meal and a shower and did some laundry. Interestingly, when you are not carrying a wardrobe with you, clean clothes become quite a nicety. Who knew?  We left Rawlins, rode about 55 miles,  climbed about 5500 feet and cowboy camped again. It was a tough day. We did not expect that much climbing, and a good chunk of it was later in the day when we were already pretty beat up. We did have some nice views, though, and were woken in the morning to a herd of bleating sheep being shepherd by our campsite. It would have been annoying if it wasn’t so astounding, at least to me. 

After we broke camp we headed to Brush Mountain Ranch, elevation about 7500 feet, where I am composing this post, an oasis for bicyclists looking for a break, some food, water, a roof over your head, a shower, and good conversations with fellow cyclists, and Kirsten, the proprietor. She’s a real character, but in the best possible way: friendly, open, honest, helpful, direct, and good natured. The ranch has cabins, rooms, a bunkhouse, and a camping area, all for different prices, as you would expect. But here’s the kicker.  Kirsten provides pizza, soft drinks, some ‘adult’ beverages, and snacks to all cyclists who stay here, but she does not keep a tally of what you eat and drink. You do. And tomorrow when we leave I’ll tally up the sodas and such and leave payment. The honor system. It’s that kind of place. > > Today, Sunday, August 13, will be a big climbing day. We’ll leave the Ranch about 8:30 (after Kristin serves breakfast) and begin a 17 mile climb to the Watershed Divide summit. Some very steep grades. It will take -me, at least - a few hours and there will definitely be some hike-a-bike stretches. After the summit, which, I think, is right around 10,000 feet, it is supposed to be a pretty gnarly descent for a few miles until things be begin to smooth out. If all goes well, we might be in Steamboat Springs by day’s end, or close to it. That’s the plan anyway. But we all know what happens when plans meet reality, right? Actually, I don’t know what happens when plans meet reality, but I like the saying.