We woke up still in Nebraska, but only an hour or two from the Wyoming border. I was excited to get to Wyoming. Originally, we had planned to camp in Medicine Bow National Forest, but this was now only a few hours away and we could get considerably further. Rather than making a plan, we just started driving with a pretty good idea of what detours we could take along the way.
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Did I mention that we decided not to go to Denver, or that we were planning on it? You would think that a place with a reputation like Denver would have millions of eager couchsurfing members. However, between me and Chris, we got a dozen no's and one maybe. The maybe called me, and when I said that I would be okay with just camping in Wyoming, he texted me back a few hours later saying that he had some people who really wanted a place and he told them okay so hopefully that was fine. It was, and we probably wouldn't've even made it to Denver in anything approaching a reasonable time. So I have to see Denver some other day. I'll get over it, I promise.
We continued on Route 30 until we exited Nebraska, just because the less time spent on the highway is better (even if it takes longer). 30 basically ends at the Wyoming border, so we joined back up with I-80 while entering Wyoming.
The land had begun getting hills yesterday, but now it has things that I want to call bluffs and mesas and other landforms that I am entirely unfamiliar with. In Laramie, we turn off the highway and take Route 130 through Medicine Bow National Forest. It might've been the prettiest place I've ever been, with the many lakes and snows and random cows and green green grasses and forests and marshlands, streams and ponds.
At one point, we jumped from the car and I ran down a hill in an attempt to get to a river I could see from the top of the hill. At the bottom, I could hear it but not see it. When I tried to move across the field, I was hindered by the fact that the really tall grass was not just really tall grass, but grass in a marshy bed of squelchy mud. So I failed to actually arrive at the stream. The boys and I went walking back up the hill, whereupon we began to realize that we had not yet adjusted to altitude. Walking up a hill should not have been nearly so difficult.
And then we emerged from the national forest and zoomed across the Wyoming landscape, mountains growing in the distance and hills appearing and now there are actually trees, even if they are mostly short and stubby and in small copses.
We veered south at the beginning of Flaming Gorge National Recreation Area. This was our bridge from Wyoming to Utah. Half-way through, we entered Utah and then we got to drive over the actual Flaming Gorge dam, which was pretty awesome. At this point, we're driving along cliffs looking down into canyons and valleys constantly, slowly gaining altitude through the ups and downs.
We exited Flaming Gorge after checking out two campsites--both which required $16/night and did not appear to have much going for them--and realized that we had about an hour or two before we would be dark. So we continued down Rt. 191 towards Ashley National Forest.
We zoomed through and found a campsite, which also required $16, but at least it was a place that we could fill up our water bottles with some iron-tinged water from a hand pump outside the camp area. Then we left and drove to a random area marked "byway turnaround" or "bypass turnabout" or something like that. It was just an area where a truck could turn around, a little area unmarked but possible for parking, and a "bathroom" that did not involve any running water.
We grabbed our stuff, hiked down the trail a bit, and set our tents up as the sun went down. We went the requisite 100 paces from our campsite and made a fire so that we could cook ramen and baked potatoes. Mmmmm. And then we tried to get our stuff together to go to sleep.
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