Mt. Nemo, US 50, home, reflection

The Mount Nemo Scenic Byway is one of those roads that motorcyclists collect. When I passed the sign for the turnoff yesterday before riding into Nephi, I thought that if I was ever going to ride the Mt. Nemo road, then today would be a good time to do it, so I set the alarm for 6 AM. It was still dark at that time, and only 58 degrees when I began loading the bike, but the sun had come up and it looked like it would be another clear and pleasant day. I rode about six miles east from Nephi and turned north up the scenic byway. The online description of the ride mentions opportunities to see wildlife, and I was worried about deer and elk, especially so early in the morning. In fact I saw only one rather confused looking young deer nibbling grass at the side of the road. However, there were many cows wandering across the road, down the road, and alongside  the road.

Share the road

The 30 mph speed limit seemed silly at first, but after a few miles it began to make sense. The road is narrow, the surface is chip-sealed with an emphasis on the chip, the turns are tight and unpredictable, the climb is steep, and there is gravel in some places from turnouts and side roads. It is best to relax, keep the speed down, and enjoy the views, which are outstanding.

View  from the Mt. Nemo road

Another view from the road, this time with Victor

 The road climbs over a 9345 foot summit before descending into Payson and by that time I was ready for a break and for breakfast. Unfortunately, I failed to find a restaurant that was open - just a few chain places by I-15, which I rode south to Nephi, where again I failed to find a local restaurant. I finally went another 70 miles on SR 132 to Delta, where I had French Toast at the Ranch Motel Cafe, where I've eaten before.

An art installation in Leamington, about 20 miles from Delta on SR 132

On I-15 and SR 132 I'd noticed a strong wind out of  the southwest, and as I began my long day on US 50  the wind became a crosswind that blew fine dust from the surrounding desert so that the surrounding hills and the road ahead appeared indistinct and ghostly.

There's not much to say about US 50 from Delta to I-80 in Fernley, Nevada: I gassed up in Ely, had lunch at the Owl Club Cafe in Eureka, got gas again in Austin, and again in Fallon. There are several passes along the way in Utah and in Nevada, and some nice curves leading up to those passes. I've been on that stretch of US 50 many times. The speed limits are reasonable, the traffic is light, the scenery isn't quite monotonous - perhaps soothing would be a better term. The temperature stayed at a pleasant 70-75 degrees, warming to 80 at the lower elevation of Fallon.

It was only 5 PM when I arrived in Fallon and I decided to push on for home rather than spend the night there. I joined I-80 in Fernley, rode through Reno, up to Donner Summit, and then  down into the Sacramento valley. There were (maybe still are) forest fires near US 50 and I-80 and the air was very hazy and smelled of smoke. I stopped at Ikeda's in Auburn for a chicken pot pie, which I ate, and a slice of strawberry/rhubarb pie, which I stowed in my tank bag. The heavy California traffic that I know and hate began in Roseville and continue to San Francisco, although at least it was moving at the limit. After so long on back roads in rural areas I'd grown  used to having the road to myself. I arrived home 16 hours later than when I started the day, covering 850 miles.

Reflections: I was on the road for a month and covered 8600 miles. The weather when I was riding could have been a lot worse - I always seemed to be either behind a rain front or ahead of one, a couple of times in the Midwest missing afternoon thunderstorms by a half hour or so. A few days were oppressively hot, but most of the time the temperature was between 70 and 85 degrees.

Having Carol ride with me on the first half of the trip worked out very well - she says that she's up for another long ride. However, it may be on a different bike - Victor has over 142,000 miles, and although he's running fine, I'd probably worry every day on another long ride.

The unexpected theme of the second half of the trip was the inexcusable treatment of the Native Americans who were here and had a vibrant culture long before the Europeans arrived. We visited Traverse des Sioux in St. Peters, Minnesota where a treaty with the Indians was signed by the US Government in 1851. The terms of that treaty were violated repeatedly by the US, which led to the Indian uprising in 1862 and then to the mass hanging in nearby Mankato, Minnesota. Fourteen years later gold was discovered in the Black Hills of South Dakota, and miners and settlers rushed into Indian lands in violation of an existing treaty. This led to an order being issued to confine Indians to reservations, which the US Cavalry attempted to enforce. We visited the battlefield at Little Big Horn, where Custer met his demise, and the memorial to Crazy Horse, who was killed while "resisting arrest" in 1877. I rode on the Chief Joseph byway in Wyoming, a stretch of road that commemorates the leader of a band of Nez Perce Indians who resisted the US Army's attempts to move them from their ancestral lands. I also visited the memorial at Wounded Knee on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation where troops of the 7th Cavalry (Custer's old command) massacred over 200 Indians in 1890, the culmination of the Ghost Dancer movement that was the Indians' last gasp at retaining their traditional way of life.

Every long ride creates its own story, and a turn in the road can lead to an unexpected twist in the narrative. There was some great riding and beautiful scenery on the second half of my trip, but my enthusiasm for being on the road was tempered by the knowledge of the sad history of the land through which I was riding.

South Pass, scenic Utah

It was a cool 58 degrees when I began to load the bike this morning, but by the time I got 30 miles down the road to Lander where I had breakfast it had climbed to 70.

An Antique store in Hudson (maybe) Wyoming. The rest of the down appeared to be deserted

 In the restaurant I met Blaine and Todd, who are from Salt Lake City and who had been at the BMW rally. They suggested that instead of taking the road around the west side of Flaming  Gorge as I'd intended, that I stay on US 191 instead because it was more fun. Shortly after Lander, State Road 28 goes southwest off State Road 789 over South Pass, a famous point on the Oregon Trail.

Along Wyoming State Road 28 near South Pass

Soon after crossing South Pass (7660 feet) I went over the Continental Divide for the last time this trip - 8200 feet. I stopped to take a picture of an unusual house outside of Farson.

This place would be right at home on US 1 in California

Along SR 28 in Wyoming

In Farson I went south on US 191 to Rock Springs at I-90 where I stopped to get gas. A few miles on the Interstate and I exited at 191 and rode through the Flaming Gorge National Recreation Area, although with the son high in the sky the colors were muted.

Overlooking the valley from 191

US 191 continues along Flaming Gorge in Utah, and the road becomes delightful, with sharp turns, changes in elevation, and beautiful scenery. Unfortunately, this is a holiday weekend in Utah - Pioneer Day - and  every person in northern Utah who has an RV, motor home, travel trailer, camping trailer, or boat went out on the road and on Sunday morning was headed for home. There were great photo ops, but they all seemed to occur just after I'd passed several cars with trailers, so I didn't  stop. The road goes over a 8400 foot summit before descending into Vernal. I reached Vernal at about 1 PM and before looking for food I stopped to take a picture of the pink dinosaur on the east end of town.

The dinosaur may have had a new coat of paint since last year.

I stopped in a coffee shop to get a good cup of coffee and something to eat, but while the coffee was good all they had were muffins. Since I knew from past experience that restaurant coffee in Utah was usually very weak, I went with a coffee, and while I was sitting there a local came in and began talking with the young woman who was working there. In the course of their conversation she mentioned that she was from Macedonia, and when I said that I was part Bulgarian, she began talking about the politics and history of the region, and I stayed there far longer than I'd planned.

Anna Maria from Macedonia in Vernal, Utah

After several tries at restaurants that were closed (the owners were probably out driving their motor homes up and down US 191) I managed to find an open restaurant and was soon on my way out of town on US 40/191 towards Duchesne. The last time I was through Vernal (just last year in fact) there was a lot of construction, but the place is looking good now. There's even a new and very large dinosaur museum. However, all the towns along that section of heavily traveled US 40 seem to begin 5 miles outside of the town on each end - all the businesses are strung along the main road. I wouldn't be surprised if in a few years there will be bypasses around the towns, and a Business 40 that goes through town. In Duchesne I split from US 40 and followed 191 south. There was little traffic, and that section of 191 between Duchesne and Price is great. The road goes through a canyon with sparsely wooded hills on each side, and climbs and twists.

Along US 191 south of Duschene, Utah

Blaine and Todd had suggested a slightly different route through the Wasatch Plateau than the one I usually take, so about 10 miles outside of Price, I turned right on a small county road that ended 10 miles later at US 6, which I followed north to State Road 96, which goes west to Scofield and becomes 264 to Fairview. This was another good road and I'll add it to my long list of great roads in northern Utah. In Fairview I went south for 6 miles to Mt. Pleasant and then west on 116 to Moroni, and then west on 132, a road I've been on many times. There's a coal mine a few miles outside of Fairview, and apparently the coal is transported down the mountain via a long chute.

Coal chute 

 There wasn't much traffic going up 132, and the road was so much fun that I didn't mind when I came upon a line of cars and motor homes going down towards Nephi. Besides, I was a bit worried about the darkening sky and I did hit a few sprinkles, but the real afternoon thunderstorms were someplace else.

The sky is beginning to get dark

In Nephi I checked into the Safari Motel (one of my kind of places - $48) and had dinner at Lisa's Country Kitchen. Can this be a chain? I think that I've eaten at two other Lisa's on this trip.

Red Lodge, Beartooth Pass, Chief Joseph byway

This was to be a short day (330 miles), so I didn't rush out of the Quality Inn in the morning. I stopped 20 miles down the road in Laurel to see a statue of Chief Joseph, which turned out to be somewhat underwhelming. Laurel has a modest old downtown section that is nice enough, and a lot of small bungalows and trailers. There's a large oil refinery in town, which does little to add to its charms.

Chief Joseph statue in Laurel, Wyoming

After picking up US 212 in Laurel I followed it to Red Lodge, where  the first  thing I saw after I gassed up was a large statue of Chief Plenty Coups, who was a Crow leader at the time of Little Big Horn, and who lived on a nearby reservation until he died in 1931 - he was the last of the great Indian chiefs.

Chief Plenty Coups

When an Indian defeated or killed another warrior, he would coup him - touch him with a stick to signify that the enemy had been defeated. After the battle the warriors would sing and brag about their coups.

When I rode through Red Lodge last year Highway 212 east of town was under construction. That is now finished, and all the construction accomplished - two very nice roundabouts. Now there is more construction just east of the downtown area. On this day there was a cruise in and downtown streets were full of hot rods, custom cars, and vintage cars.

Cruise-In downtown Red Lodge, Wyoming

West of town the traffic thinned and the scenery became more interesting as the road began its climb into the mountains. When the actual twisty and steep climb began, so did the traffic. On this beautiful Saturday in the middle of  tourist season with BMW rally goers riding the Beartooth, Harley riders heading to Sturgis, and vacationers going to Yellowstone, I really couldn't expect anything else. I just took it easy, passed when I could, and enjoyed the day and the ride. It had been 80 degrees in Red Lodge, but the temperature soon dropped to 60 as the elevation increased.

View of the mountains heading up Beartooth Pass from the east

Soon enough I was at the top and stopped to take a picture. A nice lady on a Gold Wing offered  to take my picture in front of the Beartooth Pass sign - 10,947 feet. If anything the scenery is even more spectacular going down the west side of the pass - for one thing you can see the sharply pointed mountain that gives the pass its name.

A lake and the road below on the west side of Beartooth Pass

I stopped several times to take pictures and at one parking area saw a very nice BMW R60/2.

Beartooth mountain  with an old /2 in the foreground

When I first started reading motorcycle magazines there would be the occasional story about riding over Beartooth Pass. Back then the articles made it seem an accomplishment like riding the Haul Road to Deadhorse is today. 40 years ago the road may not have been paved, and even today I suppose it might be a challenge if the weather was bad - and it can get very windy I understand. However, today was mild, the pavement is in good shape, and motorhomes pulling trailers were climbing the pass - along with bicyclists, motorcycles, RVs, and even cars.

Soon enough the curves became less sharp, the descent less steep, and I turned left at State Road 296 - the Chief Joseph Scenic Byway. Many people must have continued on US 212 to Cooke City and Yellowstone, because the number of vehicles dropped considerably. The Chief Joseph road is fairly new and in very good shape. There are plenty of curves and beautiful scenery and after about 30 miles I was at Dead Indian Summit at 8000 feet. In the parking area three signs tell the story of how Chief Joseph and his band of Nez Perce Indians eluded the 7th Cavalry in their attempt to reach sanctuary in Canada. The summit is named for a wounded warrior that that the Nez Perce left behind, who was discovered by Army scouts and killed. This concludes the story that began with the Battle of Little Big Horn: The US forced the Indians into reservations, thereby ending their nomadic way of life that had existed for thousands of years. In 1877 the flight of the Nez Perce was a big story in the press of the Eastern US, and widespread sympathy was aroused for the band of starving and exhausted Indians, who had trekked for 1300 miles while being chased by the 7th Cavalry.

Looking down at the road below from Dead Indian Summit

Lots of  bikes in the parking area at Dead Indian Summit

The scenery changed as I continued on 296, but it was still engaging and the road was still fun.

View of the valley on the southeast side of  Dead Indian Summit

Road 296 ends at State Road 120, which I followed to Cody, where I stopped for lunch and coffee. Cody has several blocks of old downtown area, but, like Red Lodge,  it is really a tourist town, although it isn't completely phony - there's enough of the old town to give it some charm.

An art bull in downtown Cody

Irma's Hotel and Restaurant in downtown Cody

At Peter's Cafe (how could I resist?) I had a buffalo burger and good  coffee, so I was glad that I'd stopped in town despite my usual aversion to tourist areas - perhaps I've finally accepted that I am after all a tourist.

Peter's Cafe - good  coffee, ice-cream, and mostly locals

Continuing on 120 east of Cody the land flattens out into sparsely settled range land  at about 4000 feet. In Thermopolis I stopped for gas and rode around the small downtown area before turning south on State Road 789/US 20 through Wind  River Canyon, which provided some nice curves and interesting scenery and even three tunnels.

I had a bit of difficulty getting to The Tomahawk Motor Lodge in Riverton, WY, where I'm spending the night, as Main Street was closed for the annual Fremont County Fair parade. After living it up at the Quality Inn in Billings, the Tomahawk is more my style and price - $65. The parade was what you might  expect - mounted officers on horses constituted the honor guard (one of the horses dumped a large load during the singing of the Star Spangled Banner in front of the reviewing stand), and then floats representing various civic organizations, the volunteer fire department, a few old tractors, and the ever-popular young ladies on horses marched, rode, or drove down Main Street.

The parade begins with the honor guard

Honor  guard in front  of  the reviewing stand

Four girls were identically dressed in jeans, mucking boots, headbands, and shirts that said "Swine Divas"

The Shriners don't miss many parades

Girls on horses

A 1925 Fordson tractor

After careful consideration I finally decided that trying to go west from  here into Idaho and Oregon would just be too frustrating and time-consuming, so I'll go south into Utah and ride on familiar roads into Nevada and California.
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Day 2 at the rally

Day 2 at the BMW MOA rally was just about the same as Day 1: Wander around the vendor's booths, buy a few things that I probably don't really need, and attend a couple of seminars.

The organizers do the best job that they can, but there are a lot of people at the rally. There were lines for coffee, food, and even ice cream.

Ice cream line. It was over  90 degrees today. Yesterday there was no line - it was about 75. 

There are always interesting and unusual bikes at the rally.

An electric trike

A circa 1990 K1 - BMW' super-sport at the time - with matching trailer

The vintage display wasn't large, but there were several interesting bikes.

A row of /2 twins

Two 1929 BMWs that ran in the coast to coast Cannonball Rally

As usual at these rallies, tents were pitched in every nook and cranny, and the large open areas were packed cheek to jowl with tents.

Why I don't camp at the rally anymore

There's a third day of the rally tomorrow, but I've seen enough. I'll go over the Beartooth Pass tomorrow and follow the Chief Joseph Trail to Cody.

At the BMW MOA Rally

After a quick revisit to the Big Horn County Museum in Hardin I rode the 40 miles to Billings and into Metra Park and the rally site. There was a long registration line, but it moved fast and everything went very smoothly. I parked the bike, locked up my helmet and jacket and began wandering the rally grounds. There are a lot of vendors, particularly tour companies, and I picked up several brochures from them. I attended a couple of seminars - Kate Johnston and her Ultimate Coast to Coast to Coast ride (Key West to Prudhoe Bay and back to Key West) and Jeremy LeBreton of AltRider on adventure riding. The weather has been overcast and it actually rained a bit, although I think that everyone was happy that it wasn't 90 degrees.

Dogs enjoy the rallies, too, especially if they get ice cream.

Check-in at the Quality Inn where I'm staying went smoothly as well. This place is about 5 steps above my usual motel, and I'm enjoying having lots of room, fast internet, and all the amenities. The motel is about 8 miles from the rally site, and there are many bikes in the parking lot. I spoke with a rider at the Super 8 in Hardin this morning and he was staying there for the rally - he didn't book a motel soon enough to get one in Billings. Tomorrow, more rally shopping, seminars, and looking at bikes.

A very nice looking 600cc /2 with a large touring tank

Big Horn Mountains, back to Hardin

The Village Inn Restaurant near the Mustang Motel provided a good breakfast in the morning, and I rode out of town on US 16 taking a big loop to the north to get to Buffalo, WY rather than I-90, which would have been a more direct route. Just outside Gillette is an enormous open pit mine, which did nothing to change my opinion of the city. This is mostly flat, ranch land with a few hills and creeks, and an elevation of 4000 feet. At several places I saw antelope or elk grazing in the same fields as the cattle.

In Buffalo I gassed up and rode around town a bit before I found a place that had sunscreen. The old downtown has become a tourist area with crafts shops - pottery, jewelry, quilting - as well as a large outdoor store. US 16 is a well-paved road with gentle curves, wide shoulders, and many passing lanes. Even in the middle of tourist season there wasn't much traffic, and I soon rode over the Powder River Pass at 9600 feet and down towards Ten Sleep. In 1974 I rode my R75/5 on US 16 going the other way, and I made a rough camp along the Ten Sleep Creek - just rode down a path to a level area near the creek and set up my tent. In the morning I filled my canteen from the creek. On the the west side of the pass US 16 is more interesting - more rock formations and tighter curves.

Going up to Powder River  Pass

Rugged terrain on the other side

I rode through Ten Sleep, which is an actual town now with a gas station and cafe, and then I rode into Worland and turned north along the Big Horn River to Greybull, where I gassed up and had a good lunch at Lisa's Restaurant before heading east on US 14 towards Sheridan. Highway 14 is a more interesting road than 16 with tighter curves and more striking scenery. Again there wasn't much traffic and there were many passing lanes. I stopped several times to take pictures, including a stop at Shell Falls.

Shell Rock Falls

Looking west

There are markers along the road in the mountains that indicate what geologic periods the rock formations date to. One  of the granite formations  along 16 was from the pre-Cambrian period - 3 billion years ago. Soon I rode over Granite Pass at 9000 feet and then began a long descent, but not  before seeing a couple of moose feeding alonside the road.

Moose feeding - the male ran off into the woods

US 16 runs into I-90 and I followed that  to Hardin and the Super 8 where I'm spending the night. The weather today was just about perfect even though showers had been predicted. It did cloud up in the late afternoon, but by then I was at the motel. Before checking in I checked out the Big Horn County Museum just on the edge of town. It is an interesting place with a lot of local history and items from the late 1800's to the early 20th century.

Today I saw more and more motorcycles on the road and at the stops - Harley's headed to Sturgis and BMWs headed towards Billings. There are a dozen bikes in the motel parking lot, almost all BMWs.

Wounded Knee, Hot Springs, into Wyoming

This morning the weather was unsettled with dark clouds that hid the sun for long periods of time. The complimentary breakfast for motel guests at the H & H Restaurant was perhaps the worst I've seen - stale Cheerios, stale muffins, and an empty coffee pot (I got coffee in the regular restaurant). If I hadn't been still full from the dinner last night I would have had a regular breakfast in the restaurant. The bad food and the threatening weather suited my mood as I headed for Wounded Knee some 90 miles away, the site of a massacre in 1890 and another confrontation in 1973. I rode south on State Road 73, then west on US 18 to the turnoff for the memorial site, about 7 miles north in the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation. The small parking lot held a truck and a couple of cars - a family of tourists and Indian families selling crafts out of their cars and trucks. I spoke with Ira for awhile, who was there with his wife and baby, and bought a dream-catcher from him, and then walked up a hill to the site where the Indians who died at Wounded Knee are buried in a mass grave. The small monument that marks the mass grave is surrounded by a fence, and around that is a small cemetery. An Indian of about 35 or 40 years came up to me and identified himself as Little Moon. He said that he was the caretaker of the cemetery, and began to talk about how his great-grandmother brought him there and how she told him what had happened. He smelled slightly of beer from the previous night, and his gums had receded significantly (meth?), but he had a gentle way about him and spoke well. There are almost no jobs on the reservation - the unemployment is over 90% - so most of the people collect their handouts from the government and get by with odd jobs or by selling crafts that they make.

The official US government explanation of the massacre

One of the graves in the cemetery

Little Moon at the entrance of the memorial and cemetery

A rutted dirt road leads to the memorial on the hill, and below, where the massacre took place, only the large sign that the US put up provides the history of the site. There's only a small parking lot, and no air-conditioned interpretative center or any other amenities that you might expect at a site of such historical significance, I spoke with another vendor a short distance away who was under a thatched canopy, and who showed me newspaper clippings from the reservation newspaper that told a slightly different story than the one on the large sign. The massacre happened at the middle of the winter on December 29, 1890. The Ghost Dancer movement had been active in the area - the Ghost Dancers believed that by dancing and wearing a special shirt, they wouldn't be harmed by the white man's bullets. The US government had prohibited Ghost Dancing, and the wearing of the shirts, and the 7th Cavalry (Custer's outfit) was there to enforce the edict, and also to confiscate weapons. The Indians had set up an encampment by a nearby creek, and the 7th Cavalry, which had been starving the band of Indians, was promising food if they would give up their guns. The soldiers were going around taking weapons, and one man, who was hard of hearing, resisted when they grabbed his rifle, perhaps not understanding what had been said. The gun went off, the soldiers opened fire, the Indians opened fire, and, as the sign says, "All hell broke loose." The soldiers had a Hotchkiss gun on a nearby hill, and they opened fire with that, killing Indian men, women, children, and also soldiers. When it was all over 200 Indians were dead, and 25 soldiers, not including a few more who later died of their wounds. The Indians were buried in a mass grave on the hill, and many of the soldiers received the Congressional Medal of Honor. Since the 7th Cavalry was Custer's old unit, you could say that this was a final revenge for the Custer battle.

The Indian memorial with prayer offerings on the fence

Little Moon at the entrance of the memorial/cemetery

The cemetery

The Indian memorial

The day was getting progressively more gray, and as I suited up by the bike it began to sprinkle, so I put on my overpants and rain gloves. I rode back to US 18 and turned west towards the town of Pine Ridge, the gray day matching my dark thoughts.

I stopped in Pine Ridge to buy more premium gas. When I gassed up in Kadoka yesterday all that was available was regular, and my previous fill-up was also with regular, so I stopped in Martin earlier in the morning to put in a gallon and a half of premium, and I put in another gallon and a half in Pine Ridge - the premium would raise the octane of the mix.

At US 385 I turned north to Hot Springs, which is at the south end of the Black Hills area. Hot Springs is a little town with many crafts stores, quilting shops, and other stores along that line. After striking out at an organic-looking coffee shop (no meals, just sweets), I managed to find a restaurant across the street from the Fall River and had a chicken salad followed by a small rhubarb pie.

A small waterfall  into the Fall river

The espresso shop where I didn't eat

The day warmed and the sprinkles stopped, so I packed away my rain gear. After taking care of some business at the post office, I headed out of town on 385 to Custer, where I turned west on US 16, which climbs over a pass and goes into Wyoming at Newcastle. The road was well paved, there was little traffic, the gray day began to break up and large patches of blue appeared in the sky. After some mild twisties over the pass the road leveled and went downhill to Newcastle, where I stopped in at a visitors info booth to get a Wyoming map. Newcastle is an unpretentious town with a large railyard and an old downtown.

Fancy public building in downtown Newcastle, Wyoming

This is high plateau country, about 4300 feet, and US 16 ran into I-90 at Moorcroft and I followed that road (speed limit 80 mph!) to  Gillette, where I'm spending the night at the Mustang Motel, possibly the worst motel of the trip so far. It's run by a branch of the ubiquitous Patel family, there's no shampoo, no Kleenex, and there's one light in the middle of the room. At least the wireless connection works OK. The motel is across the road from a multi-track train line, and in addition it's almost under a freeway overpass. Charming.

Don't stay here

There was evidence on the road out of Newcastle and in Gillette itself of earlier shower activity, so again I dodged the rain. I'll probably not be so lucky tomorrow, as showers are projected throughout the area.

Andrew and I stayed in Gillette in 2002 and I wasn't impressed at the time, although there was so much construction going on that I withheld judgement. The construction seems to have ended and it looks as though it was all about housing developments and chain stores. There's a small downtown area near the railroad tracks, but the rest of the town is lacking in charm. The beer and liquor store situation seems to be that everything is sold in bars, and I looked for non-alcoholic beer in a couple of them. One place had Busch N/A and the lady behind the bar apologized, saying that they usually have O'Doul's as well but they were sold out. The other place had both brands - no thanks. I did observe that smoking is still permitted in bars in Wyoming.

This evening's motel experience inspired me to book a room for tomorrow right away instead of waiting until the afternoon like I did today. I phoned Carol (and her fast Internet connection) and with her help we began searching along my projected route, which was into the northern Wyoming mountains including Greybull, Lovell, Cody, and Red Lodge, Montana. Unfortunately, everything was either booked or very expensive, so I rethought my route and decided to return to Hardin, Montana, where I'll stay at the Super 8 there. At least I can do a laundry.