The alarm was set at “early” because we wanted to make as much ground as possible before the thunderstorms forecasted for Sunday. We had heard thunder all night and it was very wet, so we made the executive decision to take a rest day – our first on tour. The weather at least here in Custer turned out much nicer than feared, so a few regrets that we did not go. On the other hand a rest day has done us good. Troels is suffering from saddle soars and one day off the saddle could be beneficial but as an extra bonus there was an outdoor shop here in town, where he could by himself an extra saddle. Please notice on the pictures the coming the days that the saddle more looks like something from a grandma’s bicycle.

Crazy Horse Monument

As the top tuned Tour de France heroes, I would not let my body rest fully. so I took the cycle up the hill to Crazy Horse Monument. I wrote some uneducated babble about Crazy Horse yesterday but after 2½ hours at the monument, the movie theater and the exhibition, I feel so clever that I can tell the story in short. I am aware that US readers know all from school but I am sure that I have a few readers who will hear this for the first time. And it is the highlight of the day, so bear with me.

In order to tell the story, I have to introduce three characters:

Crazy Horse was never photographed, which I will come to later, and when people asked him if they could take a photo he would answer “whether he would also let people trap has shadow”. He was born around where we are now in the mid 19th century and was the war leader who headed the battle against General Custer at the famous Little Big Horn or “Custer’s last Stand”. The background for the war was the natural conflict between Native Americans who considered the land sacred and nobody’s at least no individual body’s againts the White American who built a society on ownership and rights to land.

According to a treaty between the White and the Red Americans the Native Americans were given the Black Hills, which we have just been through, but when gold was found the land became somewhat more interesting to the white man and subsequently the Native Americans defended their land in the battle against General Custer who was defeated. Crazy Horse died in 1877 (with details around his death enough to fill several paragraphs on Wikipedia, but now you know Crazy Horse).

There are pictures of another Native American, however, Henry Standing Bear. He was a Chief born in 1874 and lived until 1953. A new generation of a chief as he was portrayed in an introductory movie at the museum. He understood that to preserve Native American culture, education and dialogue was the way to go. He studied rethorics and worked in a mundane organization as Sears Roebuck in Chicago.

Finally we have Korczak Ziolkowsky. He worked as an assistant on the Mt. Rushmore project but was fired.

While the Mt. Rushmore project took place Henry Standing Bear took contact to Korczak because he wanted to make the point that the red people has also had great leaders as the white people had had Washington, Lincoln, Jefferson and Roosevelt.

So in 1948 Korczak built a house for his wife Ruth and their 10 children, five boys and five girls and started to remove massive amounts of rock from a mountain by dynamite and carve in what was left. At the site you can now see Crazy Horse’s head but there is still a lot of work left before we see his horse and the rest of Crazy Horse. Right now 14 full time workers are working on a hand and a finger, so my prediction is that nobody who lives today will see the final monument. The project is not publicly funded, so visitors like me (7 dollars for a bicycle entry and 4 dollars for a tour on the bus) are paying for the progress. Luckily there are more visitors than a lonely biker from Denmark. The bus driver Cass told that there are more than 1 million visitors a year, and I can testify that not many people come on bicycles, so most other vehicles contribute a little more. He also told that the most asked question is: “When will you be finished?” and the answer is that nobody knows.

There is a plan for the next steps but funds will decide how things will advance. Then I asked whether a load of money would speed up the completion and I got the answer that it would probably not.

The carving has become a living organism and in order not to make mistakes (where the head of the horse suddenly drops off for instance) carving has to happen at a certain pace. He further told that the 14 carving staff work year round. They abandon work when the temperature falls below 0 (which must be Fahrenheit and eq. to app. minus 18-20 Celsius) and when lightning hit the is observed in a 30 mile radius. Cass said that there is often more work lost in summer, because lightning is more prevalent than sub zero degrees. Which circles around to our reason for a rest day: Threat of thunder. We want to cover more than 100 miles tomorrow and the Monday forecast looks promising.

A (great) rest day

We had got very focused on making mileage and advancing at a high pace but a combination of things “forced” upon us to take a rest day. That has been nice. We are still good buddies but getting to spend a little time apart and bring back experiences to share at dinner has been good. And if we had not rested, I would have taken a photo of Crazy Horse at one mile’s distance and moved on. My next bike trip will probably build in a few forced rest days.

Crazy Horse never photographed

I promised to come back on the fact that there are no photos of Crazy Horse. How on earth do you then spend 70 years to carve his face in a mountain if it is even not his face?

At the museum there was a picture of some old warriors who had fought at the battle at Little Big Horn. It was taken in 1948. Supposedly Korczak had been with this warriors and had interviewed them about his features.

Furthermore a Mormon missionary who could draw, drew a picture for Crazy Horse’s sister on her own description and she told that the image was a fair reproduction of Crazy Horse.

Finally the fun fact, that when Korczak died in 1982 there was no face and no horse yet on the monument, and though Korczat was in favor of carving the horse first his family decided after his death that the face or the head should be completed first. Other visitors I spoke to confirmed that it was the right decision as the face of Crazy Horse probably would attract more visitors, to that the could complete Mt Rushmore with the carving of a fifth great American leader than would a horse.

Many people study European History because it goes back a long time, but I enjoy the roughness and the “newness” of American history. 1982 when Korczak died was in my lifetime. Korczak meeting Henry Standing Bear in 1948 is only 14 yerars before my birth and being contemporay with warriors who fought at Little Big Horn. It could also mean that I am getting older but I prefer to think of the fact that so much has happened within a two centuries.

Now we do not talk of mountains but “hills”. We entered and almost crossed The Black Hills today which are here on the border between Wyoming and South Dakota. Custer was one of the first settlements in The Black Hills because gold was found here back in the 1870’ies.

Between Newcastle and Custer we crossed the state border in high spirits because we did not know how much we had to climb to Custer. It was not that bad compared to earlier days, so just to make us appear a little tougher than we are.

Wyoming has been a good acquaintance. Though it is very monotonous, we have had four very different rides with the climb over the Big Horn Mountains as the toughest butt also the most spectacular. And the locals inform that Wyoming is unusually green this year because of winter snowfall and rain in spring.

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South Dakota is our fifth state, so is it not time for a comparison of the states on the six most important variables?

Nevada, Wyoming and probably South Dakota are very dry states not suitable for dairy production. The Central Valley in California is also dry at this time of year but California is now the largest dairy state in the US. Before Troels came, I visited a dairy (eq. to a dairy farm). I spoke with a Mexican gentleman who mostly moved steers from the farm but he was so kind to give a quick tour around and showed where the cows got their fodder and were sprinkled with cooling water. He also showed my the 40 cow milking carousel where a cow enters at a point the circle and is discharged after 7 minutes.

It becomes clear by passing through the country that from a standard American there are many levels of government/jurisdictions. Federal, State and County. In Europe focus is on federal policy and the Democrats preparation for the primary elections but the Federal part is not what matters most for many Americans. More people say that they have stopped discussing federal politics because the atmosphere has become so polarized. There seems to lack a general understanding that “I have my opinion, you have yours, let us see how we can compromise and move forward”. That was also the view of the angler we sat next to for breakfast in Moorcroft.

Crazy Horse

It almost feels like committing a crime to check in at the motel here in Custer and not take the bike up the hill to see the Crazy Horse Memorial. I am not sure, f we will have a glimpse of it tomorrow on our way to Mt. Rushmore. In short it is the native Americans’ parallel to the four Presidents’ monument at Mt. Rushmore. Work on the monument commenced in 1948 and before that there were forces who wanted the Chief Crazy Horse as the fifth person at Mt. Rushmore. Work is still ongoing, so I had three reasons to postpone a visit to a later occasion: fatigue, a little rain and the fact that the momument is still not finished.

Tomorrow there are flash flood warnings for Custer and a risk of thunderstorms. We plan for an early start.

Wapiti, Ten Sleep, Buffalo and Moorcroft – four town names in Wyoming which we had never heard about. Could probably have lived without ever hearing about them but now they are part of our little history.

Moorcraft is a supermarket, a couple of liquer stores and a diner. And then of course our little family-owned Rangeland Motel and by the way and not the least a library, which holds the cultural torch high in this remote place. We got to Moorcroft a little before 4 pm after app. 100 miles and some good tailwind. I went to the supermarket to buy milk and beer – beer was only sold at the liquor store which is the law in Wyoming.

On the way I came by Moorcroft library which had not yet closed for the day. A small one of its kind with a considerable department for local history and a lot of DVDs and adult fiction. Cindy and Heather who were at the library the last half hour before closing time could tell that there had been 19 people in the library today.’

The library is financed by Crook County and there are in total three libraries in the county, the one in Sundance is the primary library. Sundance is the county’s “capitol” or seat town. It has got nothing to do with the Utah Sundance Film town. Sundance here in Wyoming is known for the Sundance Kid who was a member of the train and bank robbery gang lead by Butch Cassidy. The Sundance Kid was born in Pennsylvania but travelled west and went to jail in Sundance for stealing a horse and a saddle. He sat for 18 months and got his new name as a bonus.

Back to Heather and Cindy in the library. There were some titles in the local history part of the library which were not from this century and I asked whether political correctness had crept into their world – that you could not mention “Indians” but should use “Native Americans”. It sounded as if that was not a big issue in Moorcroft where some of these questions are dealt with in a practical way. Cindy’s view was that you cannot rewrite history and censor names and words which suddenly change their meaning or interpretation and we could agree across the Atlantic Ocean that people should be educated to understand in which context a text is born.

Riding on the Interstate

The first 65 miles today were on Interstate 90. It is still a little strange to ride down a ramp and use the shoulder of such a big road with 80 mph speed limit, but it works. It was the direct connection between Buffalo and Gillette, where we had our lunch. We called ahead and booked our motel and found a road parallel to the Interstate 90, where we instead saw a massive stock of locomotives and some railroads which appeared new.

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In Gillette we heard that the town was known for its energy and coal – no razor blades here. About one fifth of coal produced in the US come from this area – and according to one of the coal companies’ websites 55% of US energy is produced from burning coal. Recently, however, one coal mining company has gone bankrupt and laid off 6-700 people but gauging from the investment in railroads coal appears to stay an important part of the energy supply.

It has felt a little stressful the last 3-4-5 days of coming late the motel, so we have taken advantage of the early arrival today to buy a little food and do some laundry. For those who might suspect that two guys like us would become more and more smelly I can disappoint them by assuring that our room and our biking clothes still smell more of lavender than of the cow fields we pass in Wyoming.

We have the Rocky Mountains behind us and therefore we were very arrogant and self-assured that they could now bring on any small hill and we would just roll over it. And then we found our toughest climb in the middle of Wyoming. We started out in app. 1400 m in Ten Sleep and ended at approximately same level here in Buffalo. The summit was at more than 2900 m and we climbed almost 45 km uninterrupted by level or downhill stretches. At the top we looked forward to a similar descent but it was short legs of downhill followed by leg energy zapping uphill stretches. Total Ascent was a little over 1500 m at the summit but we added another 500 before we rolled into Buffalo.

We received excellent attention from a State Trooper. The same trooper who stopped yesterday to ask if everything was alright stooped at a look out and asked about our progress and we got his advice with regards to riding on the Freeways here in Wyoming.

We might take it for 80 miles tomorrow to get to Gillette on the most direct route.

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It was indeed a beautiful morning in Wapiti. Beautiful is not only what the eyes see, it is also the sensation of a westerly breeze on your skin, when you leave the motel room. This morning I went out to do some stretching on the parking lot. I do not feel a great urge to exercise even more energy but it is good to stretch and activate the non cycle muscles. From the parking lot I had this sight:

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A man called Francis Lee Smith dreamed of building his dream mansion on a look-out above Wapiti. After more than 15 years’ work, he fell from his then tall construction and killed himself in 1992. He always worked without safety lines despite the Wyoming winds. Now the mansion sits unfinished and resembles the setting for a horror movie. There are initiatives to collect money for the house’s completion. Now it just looks scary.

One good thing about staying at a roadside motel is that you drive in and out and do not lose any time. We therefore took full advantage of the breeze and made it to Cody and through Cody in no time. Cody could be worth a longer visit, since it seems to the heart of cowboy country with rodeos, stampedes and naturally of a lot of Buffalo Bill history including a museum. He was born William Francis Cody and came from another part of the US. He liked Shoshone river area and was an important figure in establishing the town. Around the turn of the century (1900) he established Hotel Irma named after his daughter and he was also playing a part with government in establishing the dam and the State Park we came by in the morning.

We were headed towards Worland and both Garmin and Google recommended that we left the highway after Cody, but 100 yards into the road recommended, it turned into gravel – they do not waste money on asphalt here in Wyoming. A guy came in his truck and recommended us to go to Greybull on the highway and turn right. We asked for the next gas station to refuel and the gentleman offered us a bottle for the ride. Things appear to happen at nice relaxed pace here and people have the time to talk and be polite. Wyoming might also have their share of lunatics but 99.9% are definitely good hearted people some of them with a gun in their glove compartment.

In Greybull we had a good long lunch and spoke with a lady who works at Ten Sleep Museum. She recommended that we should go to Ten Sleep instead of Worland. Then we would cut a corner and be closer to Buffalo, where we are going Thursday.

Ten Sleep also sounds a lot better than Worland. Maria in Greybull told us that the name comes from native American culture. Native Americans did not own land as we are used to but they had an inherent right to different areas. In areas of great elevation differences, the native Americans had summer and winter camps. In winter they moved to lower altitudes and in summer then went up to stay cool and hunt where the wildlife was. The name Ten Sleep originates from a native American rest stop, so called because it was 10 days’ travel or “10 sleeps,” from one camp to another.

We are staying at the Carter Inn with some Harley bikers. Most are on their way to or from the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally in South Dakota. When you meet them on the road some nod and greet and other ignore us. Off their bikes they are people roaming around like us and you quickly connect talking about places you have been and places you are going. The first two rounds of beers at the restaurant were on the Harley people.

Music on the road – not yet

It still does not feel safe and monotonous enough to listen to podcasts and music on the road. We speak with each other now and then and keep an eye and an ear to the traffic. But (almost) gone is the liking for European music and rock. Here it is about good ole country music. We listen to Shanendoah, Blake Shelton, Deane Carter, Shania Twain. It is all the same sentimental lonely cowboy stuff but it is also the soundtrack of Wyoming. Wyoming is even compatible with music we do know and music we should know. When they played “Knockin’ on Heavens Door” by Guns N’ Roses and we had our Wyoming Whiskey shot, the night ended in selfies and “good lucks” . Maybe it is just a superficial encounter, but in the future a Wyoming Whiskey will taste of Ten Sleep and the music of Jackyl will transition us back to a memorable night in The Saloon in Ten Sleep. This is also why we are doing this trip, today 210 k or 130 miles after more than seven hours in the saddle. Yesterday Ten Sleep meant nothing. Today it is John and Carol, it is native Americans, it is the atmosphere in the Saloon.

Music in Movies

Troels and I are not exactly watching movies on the television before we sleep. Before my family flew home, however, we watched the premiere of Lion King. Definitely an impressive digital performance, but one of the trailers held a promise of a must see movie: Blinded by the light. Bruce Springsteen music .and Feel Good

The Day 13 Map

In the latest towns we have felt like the only tourists or foreigners. Pocatello and Rexburg are hardly towns you travel from Tokyo or Paris to visit. West Yellowstone is. A lively mountain town with restaurants, shops and many languages spoken as many visitors use the town as a base to take several visits into the Yellowstone National Park.

We set off fairly early, as we knew that it would be a long day but the line for entry plus two photo opportunities, one at the park’s entrance and one at the state border crossing to Wyoming meant that it took some time before we got into rhythm.

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But what an amazing invention the bicycle. Without pedaling too hard and with a heart beat rate of between 100 and 110 you can roll effortlessly through the Park and take in the smells of pine, the views of the mountains, rivers and wildlife. A lot of buffalo and also grizzly, according to a bear “manager” or a guy whose only responsibility was to keep track of the bears and make suure that people do not get too close. We did not. The brown spot on a meadow across a river might as well have been a big buffalo turd. It did not move while we were there, but we were told that the grizzly had been up five times this morning and gone back to sleep at its elk carcass, which it was guarding. Yellowstone National Park was as gorgeous as expected. Once again the fact that we had to do most of our sightseeing from the saddle only has its pros and cons. You are a little handicapped that you do not have time to take a hike. On the other hand the speed of 15 miles per hour gives you an opportunity to really sense the beauty. It was one of those days, where you see everything in 3D and can almost look behind the stems of the trees.

Other Adventure Cyclists

It is a matter of prioritization, however. We met more bicyclists today. First there was Meg from South Africa, who had flown over to Salt Lake City and took a loop around Idaho and Yellowstone. Her pace was more relaxed than ours and she will sometimes leave her bicycle in a campground and go on a day hike.

Later we met Paul who was on his way from Boston to San Francisco. He had quiet his job in the District Attorney’s office in Massachusetts and was averaging 60-65 miles a day to realize his dream of crossing the States. When he makes it to San Francisco, he will go to Iowa and work for Bernie Sander’s campaign. Paul mentioned a French couple he had met, but they were travelling at a much lower pace. We met them later, and the man of the couple was hauling a trailer up the hill.

Hope to return some day

In conclusion a beautiful day in a park that I would like to return to with Charlotte and possibly the kids one day, if they are still into family vacations. If not as standard tourists we could go as volunteers like Varda and Rich. A retired couple living in Tampa signs up every year on a government website and this year they had chosen Yellowstone. Rich was painting the brown part of the signs and Varda was painting the letters, which required a little more finesse than Rich was able to muster – according to Varda. Rich seemed to agree while semi-napping in the truck.

After lunch we had to get on a truck to pass some roadwork and after an ascent to Sylvan Pass it was (almost) downhill along Shoshone River to our home away from home Green Creek Inn.

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Today’s map and arrow

After having spoken Charlotte back home – it is after all our wedding anniversary today – we have been in the saddle a lot. It has been about bringing ourselves into the best position to cross Yellowstone tomorrow. If we would have stayed inside the park, we should have brought a larger wallet and booked a year in advance, so now the plan is to get up early and ride 180-200 km across Yellowstone National Park tomorrow and end the day in a town called Wapiti.

A scenic detour

The shortest way to West Yellowstone was a highway tour on a shoulder of varying quality, so after having spoken to a ranger in a town called Ashton we took a detour on a more desolate, more hilly and also longer route. One of the challenges travelling as a tourist on a bicycle is that you want to minimize the number of miles or kilometers you waste in order to make as much progress as possibly. Luckily the Upper Mesa Falls were only one mile out of our way but a lot of down and just as much up in order to return to the starting point. Also you do not relax at a scenic spot until you are satiated with impressions, because you do not have all day and want to move on.

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Progress

Just look how far we have got. Everybody I met in the neighborhood of San Francisco knew that we, the hotshots from Denmark, were going to traverse this continent called North America. Now we are just travelers and more often than not we only mention our starting point and the destination for the day. If people are more interested they can ask.

Montana has got a very straight line southern border to the east of here, but just here it becomes a very curvy border to Idaho, so 10 miles east of town at a small summit we entered Montana. It will be one night only, as we will roll into Wyoming tomorrow morning.

There is a story about the border to Idaho that it was supposed to follow the great divide (the line from north to south where water runs west or east respectively). But the cartographers got lost on the way, so the first part north from here follows the great divide, the second part followed the cartographers expedition on the lost trail and the final part just runs straight north up to Canada. At least we are told…

Grand Tetons

Enough has probably been said and written about the Grand Tetons named for theirsimilarity to big breast by some French fur collectors or trappers. We have not been away from home enough to find that name appropriate but they looked magnificent from our ride today. Grand Tetons are just south of Yellowstone. We do not know if it will be as clear a day as today, so for safety’s sake showing the Tetons at a 100 km or 70 miles distance:

The long day yesterday had zapped some energy. Via Idaho Falls wee have come to Rexburg.

The town of Rexburg

Already on the road into Rexburg you sense a certain atmosphere. Very orderly and a lot of new houses and apartments reminding me of the town in which Jim Carrey lives in the movie “The Truman Show”. Set on a hill there is a church or a temple and it is estimated that 95% of the town’s population of 30,000 are members of the Latter-day Saints church. We are here Sunday night and it is very quiet in the streets and JB’s restaurant served only Milk and Soft drinks with the meals. Another remarkable (!) fact about Rexburg is that it is the town and county in all of the United States which has the highest number of Schnauzers per capita. An impressive one Schauzer per 6.12 Rexburgers leaves Orono in the state of Maine as a distant no. 2.

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That was hopefully an elegant segway into how we are doing with dogs on our tour. We have bought some pepper spray to use, if we are pursued by a farm dog. In Nevada there were no farms and no dogs but here we see them. Yesterday one pursued us but we outpaced it, so I still do not know if I can make a fast draw if it becomes necessary. I am carrying concealed in my jersey’s back pocket, so it could be a matter of minutes before, I am ready to spray.

Idaho Falls

Map after Day 10

The smell and the landscape changed quickly after we entered Idaho. We left the Casino breakfast and smell of nylon carpet cleaning detergents and sights of flashing lights.

The state border was only up the hill from Jackpot and we had a beautiful morning tour. We see green irrigated fields, dairy farms and some of Arla Foods competitors are active in the area. Glanbia have an office in Twin Falls, we saw trucks from Agropur and in Burnley, where we had lunch, we saw Coors collecting barley for their beer and McCain potatoes for their fries.

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Drafting and how we break down a day.

We are not racing across America but take our time to look up from the handlebars now and than. There are some long monotonous stretches where it makes sense to draft and take turns. One turn is app. 10 kilometers and after 20 kilometers we stop for 3-4 minutes and drink and eat. A day like today, where we rode more than 200 kilometers (in fact 287) it is good for the mind to think of 10 turns for me and 10 turns for Troels. The morning breaks we force upon ourselves. It is easy to feel energetic and invincible in the morning. But the more fuel you can get in at 9-10 and 11 am the more you have left for the afternoon when you start to feel a little sorry for yourself.

Dead or Alive?

Our first 20 k break happened to be just outside a country store. We thought that we were going to replenish our drinks in Hollister down the road, but we could save some time by doing it here. I was my wallet day, so I entered the store and walked around without any other signs of life. Until I saw the salesman or owner sit on a chair fast asleep:

I went up to him and asked for bananas with no results. A thorough nap this man was taking. Another question and still no reaction. I decided to pay cash and place money on the counter. I am almost certain that I saw his chest move but when I had tip toed out of the store and we had rolled out of the parking lot and I told the story to Troels I was not sure that he really was alive. I am hopefully on surveillance camera, so there is evidence that I did not touch the man and carefully paid for what, I had picked up, should a Sheriff’s investigation be initiated.

A scenic tour in the hills

At the gas station where we had a little lunch, I asked the two girls behind the counter, whether they had a map. I did my upmost in vain not to sound like and old fart and hurried to tell them that I knew that there was something called the internet and Google Maps and conceded that they of course would not have a rack of maps on sale but they might have an old one sitting in the back office? None, so we left Burnley and left our fate in the hands of Garmin who is more and more becoming a persona – a lady who tells us what to do, now that we do not have our wives to do so. Soon we rode around in some very dry hills on gravel roads and received unconsistent advice. At some time when Garmin advised us to take a goat path leading up to a shack where a sign said “No Trespassing”, Troels turned om his phone and received a signal, so that we could return to civilization.

We got to American Falls our original destination just to learn that all motels are leasing out to construction workers who are working on the many road works in the area. We emptied the soda fountain at a gas station and drank some milk – our classic afternoon combo- and rode on to Pocatello. At dusk we turned on our rear lights on and we rolled into the hotel in the black night. Tired after a long day but happy that we start to approach Yellowstone. We have booked a hotel in West Yellowstone and one out the park just before Cody. We do not dare to rely on last minute bookings. On day 10, Sunday, we will drive north to Idaho Falls and probably stay in Rexburg.

Today’s leg can be described very briefly: 50 miles east on Freeway 80, turn left in Wells and 65 miles north to Jackpot.

Though we were well supplied with tubes (sorry to refer to them again, but they are an incredibly large part of our lives!) I made an attempt with a repaired version, which I had to change after 30 miles. I am not sure if it was a fresh puncture or just the poor patches from Walmart, but now I am on fresh tubes and the hope is that we can focus on other things the coming days.

In Wells, we left Freeway 80. We had tried an alternative in the early morning, when we left Elko, a so called business route 80, but at some time it just ends in a cul de sac, where we have to lift the bicycles over a barbed wire fence and return to the Freeway. In DK, you would get kicked off, but here it is the only way to bicycle between some of the Nevada towns. At some road work, I even exchanged enough words with a police officer to understand that we should just continue.

We meet a lot of nice people here. There are some people we are not too fond of, though, and we have not met any of them. The first are the people shooting riffles and guns at the road signs. US road signs are iconic only until they have been bruised and battered by some hillbillies with too little to do. Another group of people we talk about are “the litterers”. Despite many signs demanding “No Littering” the road sides are some places used as waste bins by the drivers who apparently cannot have an empty bottle lying in the bottom of their car until they arrive at a rest stop. A special version of litter is the half filled bottle. Only with the same color as the original beverage if the bottle happens to be a Mountain Dew or other yellow liquid. We wonder if the this is mankind’s version of dogs’ marking territory. When you piss in a bottle and throw it out the window, you have left a marker that will last for months and probably years and proclaim that “Ed was here”.

As mentioned we left Freeway in Wells. Probably a good-bye and also a farewell to the Humboldt River and the Union Pacific Railway, we have been riding along many of the last miles. We had studied the map and were anticipating some watering holes before Jackpot but for safety’s sake we took a sandwich and some soda at a Subway.

There was absolutely nothing before Jackpot, 100 kilometers of dry mountains, sunshine and a nice tailwind. We thought we were here before 4 pm but looking at our clocks we realized that we had entered Mountain time zone. I know from Indiana that some states do have diferent time zones within a state, but it must be confusing that different counties have different time zones. Time difference to DK is now eight hours.