2002-09-21

Cheyenne, Wyoming - Crossing the Rocky Mountains

I saw a lot of thick green stripes in the hills. I wonder if they must be copper? Look carefully and you can see that someone has placed a U.S. flag at the peak.

The temperature fell as my altitude increased. My KLR worked hard winded climbing the slopes in the thinner air. Twisting the throttle doesn't have much effect. But it presses on, like a faithful friend, and never stalls.

It's almost 8,000 feet when I stop for gas. The sun is going down and I have to decide whether to stop in Laramie for the night or press on to make Cheyenne. Laramie would be the safe call but if I can make Cheyenne it will be a relatively easy two day ride to reach Chicago. I moved my Gerbing heated jacket under my sweater for a little more warmth. Even with that, I wished I had heated handgrips.

I reached Laramie at sunset and decided to push on to reach Cheyenne. It proved to be a mistake. The temperature dropped down to the mid-30s and a thick fog and drizzle settled into the mountains. Visibility in some places decreased to less than a hundred feet. My headlight seemed to be useless to penetrate it. Each time a truck would pass I would watch as their tail lights faded away into the fog and could only hope that the next truck would see my little KLR in the fog. I turned my electric jacket up to maximum but it wasn't enough to keep me from shivering. I wondered what would happen if my electrics would fail here, at nearly 8,000 feet in the mountains, at night. With no headlight I wouldn't even know how to pull over safely and even if I could- being alone on the mountain in near freezing temperature could be fatal. It was a mistake to push on and one that I promised myself never to make again.

I began descending and the fog thinned, then disappeared. I felt warmer and in a few minutes felt both elated and relieved to see the city lights of Cheyenne on the horizon.