Sunday May 2^nd Best Western Inn, Lander . Wyoming

22.00

Friday

Our rest day in Rawlins was, well, restful. We had a good breakfast in a nearby cafe, full of examples of a local taxidermist’s art: a bobcat, various birds and a bison’s head amongst other things. I thought the elderly couple at the next table might have been his masterpiece, till the woman raised her hand and asked for her check.

I spent three quarters of an hour in the morning walking through a snowdrift to get to laundrette and another three quarters of an hour in the afternoon walking through another one, to fetch it. The rest of the time was mostly spent on the internet checking the weather and reading the English newspaper reports of Fulham’s win against Hamburg ,which puts them into the Europa Cup final. Driving to Rawlins the previous day Marie had texted to say "The Germans have scored". Just after this I had lost the mobile signal. I assumed that the away goal would be enough and that Fulham had lost. It wasn't till the evening when I checked the internet that I realised that they had won. Lots of whooping in the hotel room with Mike, commendably, doing his best to act interested. I’ve worked out we’ll be in Missoula, Montana on the day of the final. Population 12,000 so a chance there might be a sports bar.

We ate three big meals again. Somehow you get used to it even when not cycling.

Saturday

We set off at 6.45 with the temperature about -5. We went back to the taxidermy cafe for breakfast only to find they didn’t open on Saturday and had to go back to the hotel. In the restaurant some of the construction workers were already into beer and shots. We settled for oatmeal, sausages eggs and hash browns.

It was bitterly cold all day and we were wearing all our gear, waterproofs, balaclavas, the lot. Mike tells me there was some wonderful scenery but I was bent head down for most of the day, trying to reduce the wind resistance We had long spells going directly into an icy 15 mph north wind. All in all we did 76 miles in 8 hours with nowhere to stop for a meal. We had a cup of coffee in Muddy Gap and ate the sandwiches we had bought in Rawlins ( in an odd store run by Mennonites – a bit like the Amish in dress but not against using modern methods - lousy sandwich makers though)

We reached our destination, Jeffrey City at 4. It was once a uranium mining town with a population of 6000 but, according to our guide book, the 1979 Three Mile Island disaster put an end to that and it is now a ghost town with a population of 5. Basically all there is now is an old garage, the Top Hat Motel and The Split Rock Cafe and bar. The guy who checked us in at the motel, said the Three Mile Island story wasn’t true and that basically the company who owned the mine (and the town) were just charging too much and went out of business . In 1982 they virtually closed the town down , making 50 % of the population (most of whom lived in motor homes anyway) redundant and giving them seven days to get off company land. There are now plans for a new company to re-open the mine next year.

The motel looked pretty seedy from the outside but the rooms were surprisingly comfortable and spacious. No Wi-Fi (no phone, no telly) but after the day we had had it was just nice to be warm for a while.

At six we headed down to the Split Rock Cafe for a drink and something to eat. I brought my computer on the off-chance they might have Wi-Fi. We sat at the bar when we got there and a little old lady, late sixties at a guess, wearing a t-short, lumberjack shirt and a baseball cap came up to us. I was waiting for the usual “And where are you two fellows from?” or something like that but she just stood there. No eye contact or anything.

“What draught beer do you have ?”

“Don’t do draught beer ”

Mike asked for a Bud.

“What other bottled beer do you have”

A heavy sigh. “Bud or Coors” Still no eye contact.

I asked for a Bud too.

I then asked for a glass. This was the only point I managed to score all evening. Her lips tightened and I could tell she was trying to think of some obscure Wyoming law that prohibited the use of glasses by strangers on a Saturday evening but she couldn’t. With another heavy sigh, two dusty tumblers were put in front of us.

Mike asked if the restaurant was still open. Silently she shuffled away and returned with two plastic menus offering various combinations of fried meat, cheese and potatoes. Grilled cheese and chips was a new one on me.

Mike ordered the hamburger steak and a jacket potato . I said I’ll have the grilled chicken.

“No you won’t .No chicken left”

I said I’d have the hamburger too and she shuffled off again. I noticed that here were a couple of laptops on tables and I tried my pc. I got onto the net using the Split Rock network and managed to read a few e-mails while we were waiting. Her daughter who seemed pleasant enough, served us another beer. Somehow I have a hunch she was an only child.

A few minutes later she returned and gave us each a plate containing a piece of fried brown carpet covered in some sort of white mucus, with slices of fried onion swimming in it. Next to this was a lukewarm, semi-raw jacket potato. (We were paying $11 each for this). She said nothing, glanced down at my open computer and disappeared again.

Then came her masterstroke. She re-appeared from the kitchen and, with a damp cloth, wiped clean the blackboard containing the list of today’s specials. Then, laboriously she wrote on the board “Internet $5.” I could almost have applauded.

As we were leaving, Mike asked if she was open on Sunday. She said not. Sunday was her day of rest.. He asked if there was anywhere we could eat between there and Lander, our next destination, sixty miles away.

“Nope, nothing till Lander”.

It was the only time I saw her smile all evening.

I threatened to kneecap Mike if he left a tip and he didn’t. Looking back now I regret this.

Someone able to give such a master class in surly malignancy deserves every penny they can get.

Sunday

Two inches of snow on the ground when we got up this morning but at least it had stopped falling. I automatically demand to be driven now if there’s a single snowflake in evidence but Mike is made of sterner stuff. We would cycle on.

Nowhere to go for breakfast so we ate our emergency rations. These consisted of: two sachets of oatmeal we had lifted from the hotel in Fairplay, two Tetley tea bags I’d got from a motel in Kansas and had been saving for just such an occasion, and, in Mike’s case, the leftover half of the Mennonite beef sandwich I had thrown away the previous evening, describing it as inedible. We ate the oatmeal with hot water, from plastic bathroom tumblers and then rinsed these out for the tea. Mike got me to sign away all rights to the half sandwich before he ate it. He’s a stickler for detail. Suitably refreshed we set off.

Another hard day today. The first 30 miles were a real uphill slog in weather even colder than yesterday. Then when we go to the top of the evocatively named Beaver Divide, we had a wonderful 5 mile down hill run. Almost at the same time the sun came out and the rest of the run was fairly pleasant. Nowhere to eat or even get a coffee and we were digging deep into our supplies of Snickers, dried cranberries and Trail Mix (a mixture of nuts, raisins and dried fruit – it’s squirrel food but it does the trick).

We got to Lander at two, just in time for lunch. When asked, the receptionist at our first hotel said “Yes we do have Wi-Fi but there are some issues with it at the moment.” Not worth the risk. So here we are at the Best Western. A bit more pricey but good internet connections an on-site laundromat. I don’t ask much really.