Another good day

This morning I saw Sara, Heidi, and Jamie (L-R) off on the next leg of their cross-continental bike odyssey. Rich was sleeping in. As they headed west I headed east after yet another change of plans: instead of moving my next three destinations up one day I called Dorothy in Scottsbluff NE, who said I could visit today. By day's end there had been further changes...

But first I continued down U.S 26, which would take me the entire way to Scottsbluff. For miles below Dubois, WY, the highway follows the Wind River valley. At times it's spectacular, such as these Painted Rocks just a few miles below Dubois. It seems that many western states have sites called Painted Rocks. (Remember, you can enlarge any picture in this blog by clicking on it. The enlarged photos are about 1/6 the size of the originals.)

A few miles farther on I clambered down a fishing path to the bank of the Wind River for this and a few other close-up views until the ubiquitous mosquitoes drove me away.

Deciding when to stop for a photo or just enjoy and drive on, and which views to select for this blog, is often the hardest part of traveling in the West. I didn't even find out the name of this spectacular formation of red rocks that hangs over the highway, but it was too good to leave out, especially as spots of sunlight were starting to peep through the morning clouds.

Chatty Kathy, my GPS, detoured me on country roads to save a few miles and bypass Riverton. The best view in this area was Ocean Lake, a huge irregular patch of water; here are reeds on the west shore. The other thing growing there in profusion was deerflies, whose ferocious bites sent me scampering back to the car.

About halfway between Ocean Lake and Casper I spotted the turnoff for Hell's Half-Acre, which had looked interesting on a wall map in a highway rest area. I did a disgraceful braking and turning maneuver that dumped my cap, fig newtons, and assorted other debris onto the right front floor; fortunately no one was nearby to see.

The views were worth the rubber I left on the road: a sort of waterless Grand Canyon that, according to the sign, bears signs of having had bison driven over the edge by Native American hunters. This site is barely developed and seems now completely neglected, but if you're ever west of Casper it would be worth your while to visit. I'll add all my photos of it to the trip album in Picasa when I get home.

Finally, in the stretch of 26 that runs between I-25 and the Nebraska state line I passed through the town of Fort Laramie and detoured three miles to the Fort Laramie National Historic Site. This photo shows the surviving foundations of the enlisted men's barracks built and expanded in the 1850s and 1860s. Signs I read at the fort give the impression that this fort, a major stopoff on the Oregon Trail, was the site of attempts at constructive dialogue between the Army and native leaders, not just exploitation and displacement of the latter as I saw at Fort Humboldt. It's what I would hope to find, but I'm reserving judgment.

So here I am in Dorothy's house in Scottsbluff after an evening of delightful conversation and another wonderful Mexican dinner at Rosita's. As I should have explained in March, Dorothy is a Treasury colleague from 30 years ago and for many years more recently a fellow Treasury Historical Association activist.

We came up with a wonderful plan that sorts out several tangles in my travel route. Tomorrow I'll leave my bags here and do a day trip up to Deron and Mary's north of Belle Fourche, SD - I'm guessing about nine hours' total driving plus an hour or so visiting. Crazy, I know. Then Friday she will give me the real Scottsbluff tour that I hadn't allowed time for on either visit. That will put me back on schedule for my Iowa City visit Saturday through Monday.

Thanks to Dorothy and to all the other wonderful friends along the way who have helped make this trip work.