Via Hwy 287. 61 miles.
It was another long ride today, on top of the ultra-long ride yesterday. Plus the weather was warm and we had a 1,000 foot climb mid-way through the route. By the time we reached the base of that climb it was just before noon and the sun was pretty intense. So, by the end of today's ride, we were both really tired.
Our ACA cycling map warned us that there were only "limited services" available along the 123-mile stretch from Lander to Rawlins, and to carry extra food and water. "Limited services" was pretty much an understatement. For today's route between Lander and Jeffrey City, the only thing other than sagebrush is a highway rest stop at Sweetwater junction (mile 41), which has bathrooms and water. We pulled in about 2 pm to eat some lunch and try to recover (which we did somewhat) for the last 20 miles to Jeffrey City.
Jim and Julia had forewarned us that Jeffrey City was a virtual ghost town and a dump. They were certainly correct. There used to be a uranium mine near the town and when it closed years ago, the place became nearly abandoned (only 50 residents). Most of the buildings are empty, the streets dusty and it looks like nothing has been even painted in many years. Oddly, about the only business in town still running (other than the cafe and motel) is a pottery studio* of an artist (Byron) who spends his summers here and the winters in Lander (don't ask me to explain that one). We heard from several people that Byron is very accommodating to cyclists passing through. For example, Mike (the Swiss guy we met today) told us he camped in the dirt parking lot of the studio last night. We were prepared to do the same thing if the motel looked really raunchy (it turned out to be just a shade better than raunchy).
When we arrived Penny went in search of Faye, who works at the cafe and runs the run-down motel. She turned out to be a real piece of work.** When Penny said that we were interested in staying at the motel and asked if she could see one of the rooms, Faye said in a huff "I'll take you down there when I'm ready to leave here." (We quickly realized we were mistaken in thinking that we were the customers and that Jeffrey City could use a little more business.) We sat around for awhile in the cafe until another guy came out and - basically acting as an intermediary - got Faye agree to drive over to the motel to let us look it over. She roared out of the cafe lot with her Suburban tires spinning while we peddled the 1/2 mile or so to the motel to meet her. After Penny checked the room (which, surprisingly, was not too nasty) and noticed there was trash in the trash can and a used soap bar in the shower. Penny told Faye the room should be cleaned before we used it, to which Faye snapped "if you don't like the room the way it is, then pitch a tent." This comment angered me. I asked Faye if we had done something to offend her and told her if she had a problem, let's discuss it. (I wasn't foolish to threaten to go somewhere else because there was nowhere else to go other than the dirt parking lot of the pottery place.) She just glared at me as she stomped off to retrieve and empty the trash can. We later went over to the cafe for dinner and Faye was there, looking as sullen as ever. Fortunately another woman who was very nice took care of us and there were no further words with Faye. But tomorrow morning we'll be back in the cafe for breakfast, so stay tuned.
*The "studio", which is in an old gas station, contains mostly junk (old tires, air conditioners, etc.) as well as a few pieces of finished and unfinished pottery. Byron was not there when we stopped in (he was across the road organizing a bonfire for this evening). There were three other guys there, two of whom said they were artists. One of these two (who was still wearing sunglasses even though it was almost 8 pm) showed us a canvas he was working on, which had at least 8 coats of paint on it. He explained that it is a "living work", meaning that it continues to change as the mood hits him. The other artist's main work was the outside of the gas station (I regret I did not get a picture of it, but then there was a lot of junk in the way too). The third guy showed us around and some of Byron's pottery, then began a long, rambling diatribe about why our country has gone to hell since the time (1972) he hitchhiked from the East Coast to Denver, when I-70 in Ohio was then an empty road but is now packed with traffic. This was all because the Government had failed to limit legal immigration (he cited the example of Mike the Swiss native who camped at the studio last night). If this make sense to you, you are smarter than me.
**When Penny called Faye yesterday to ask if the motel was available to us, in a very gruff tone Faye said yes and, no, we did not need a reservation. Faye's response to Penny's phone question whether the cafe would be open was "that's where I work" (as if we should know that).
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