Day 14
   
   5/11/01
   Mile 1462
   Near Rock River, WY
   
   I again managed to tear myself from my sleeping bag at 6:30am, knowing
   I had a big day of hills on my plate.  The tent was wet again, from
   condensation, and something would have to be done about that.  A film
   of water would form every night on the inside of the tent, even if I was
   not inside it.  I was puzzled about how that could occur, and this
   Eureka Backcountry 1 solo tent was performing worse than a $25 Kmart special.
   
   I went to a payphone and called the vendor, Campmor, who said they'd
   never heard of that, and couldn't offer any ideas.  Then I called the
   manufacturer, and after a while on hold I was told, surprise, they've
   been getting other reports about the same problem, leading me to believe
   I'd gotten another item with a design flaw.  I was told I'd get a call
   back on my voicemail about exchanging it, but the call never came.
   
   I stopped at the post office to ship home a few things, ate, and
   somehow the time had gotten away from me, for it was nearly 10am
   before I was able to finally head out of town.  It wasn't long until 
   the hills started hitting, and there was a 8640 foot pass to climb over.  I felt
   fairly normal, all things considered, but hauling the loaded bike was
   a chore by anyone's definition.  I put on headphones for only the second
   time this trip; I typically don't like to listen to the radio when I'm in
   the Great Outdoors, preferring instead to tune into nature and my own
   thoughts.  But, perhaps a few tunes might help take my mind off the
   sweat of going up these hills.
   
   The terrain is rocky here, with boulders lying about, and much more
   windswept than the Colorado plains.  There is a different feel to
   area, no doubt in part due to being nearly twice the altitude.
   
   As I climb towards the pass, more pine trees spring up, covering
   hillsides and interspersed among granite outcroppings.  Snow is still
   piled up from drifts many feet deep, doing it's best to resist the warm
   temperatures.
   
   Laboring up the hills, I have a relapse and begin to question for a
   moment why I'm doing this.  Then a thought pops into my head:
   
   You could be here - or you could be back at work, dealing with office
   politics.
   
   After a brief involuntary cringe, the bike seemed lighter, the sky
   seemed brighter, the hills less steep, and I climbed with renewed
   vigor.
   
   Snow was deeper still at higher elevations, on the sides of the roads
   and throughout much of the woods, where the shade protected it.
   Finally I reached the top of the pass, where  the road dumps out onto the
   highway, and I enjoy the wild ride down to the Laramie valley at
   40mph.
   
   It was only 4:30pm when I got to town; too early to stop for the day,
   but also too far to the next place where a campground existed.  The
   sensible thing would have been to stop for the day - so of course I
   ate, loaded up on groceries, and headed north, having no idea where I would
   spend the night.
   
   Trains are a major freight mover in this area, and rails stay busy.
   The road parallels some tracks on the way north out of Laramie.  I
   looked at one train headed my way.  It was long, perhaps a hundred cars - but
   there were only two engines pulling it!  That meant my path couldn't
   be very hilly, so I could still get a reasonable distance yet this
   evening.
   
   I rode until twilight, cutting off on a dirt road for a bit of
   seclusion, and camped in the open prairie among the stars.

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