Wyoming, Part 1

Driving up through Colorado was uneventful, but crossing Wyoming would not be.

It was a windy drive across Kansas, the traffic not too bad but the motion of the U-Haul in that stiff crosswind a bit too rocky for my liking. Not exactly aerodynamic, those boxes on wheels. Still, it was a pretty easy stretch. And the way northwest through eastern Colorado was a breeze, relatively speaking. The weather stayed fair and the traffic never got too bad. The midday feeding went off with only slight frenzy, and there was only one crate to clean out, so we counted ourselves lucky.

Heading into Wyoming, the weather started to liven up and menace a bit more. It was getting dark and the wind picked up considerably, with thick clouds forming off to the west. Things were ok until we hit Cheyenne and headed west on 84. The U-Haul was suddenly battered around by heavy gusts, and traffic--especially semi trucks--was thicker and faster. Both got progressively worse as we entered the Medicine Bow National Forest and headed up toward the pass. It started to rain, and before long we were trudging along at an unsteady 50mph, blinded every 20 seconds or so by a semi screaming past at 70 or more. With every gust I fought to hold the truck steady, and it wasn't so easy. I expected to skid off the road. I'm surprised, honestly, that we didn't.

My dad tells a story of he and us kids fishing for salmon on Lake Michigan one weekend when the weather got nasty and the waves got big. He said we came in slow, jumping and dipping with the huge swells, easily the worst weather he or this boat had endured, and he found himself praying for us to make it in, that he wasn't entirely sure we would. I remember that day, but I don't remember it in that way. Now, though, I understand what he means by it.

I'd been feeling a bit less than good all day, and the worse I felt, the more dire the weather seemed. It was a damned terrifying drive from Cheyenne to Laramie. This was one of the very few times in my life where I found myself in a situation that I wasn't all that sure I could handle. Thinking you're in over your head and it's not just your own ass on the line is a scary thing. I wanted to stop. I didn't want to be responsible for this truck and all these dogs, miserable in the back, not to mention Cathy in the seat next to me. I just didn't want to do this anymore.

Of course, that's just stupid. We made it to Laramie and over dinner changed our minds 7 times or so on whether we should try to press on and get to Rock Springs, or at least to Rawlins. We finally decided not to, and we began the process of letting all the dogs out for the last time of the day, resigned to the trip not ending until Sunday (the horror!), when we got a visitor. I'd just sprung the Rott from his giant cage in the back of the truck--he became always the first to go after his big accident of the first day--when a youngish guy rolled up in a wheelchair, saying "Well, you've got a lot of dogs there." He was burly, with a beard and long hair in a ponytail and glasses. The Rott made for him immediately, and before I could properly hold him back he had his head buried in the guy's lap, shoving slightly for attention. It was pretty amazing. So I stood and talked to him for a while about the roads and the weather and our plan, and he offered to drive home and check the radar and come back and tell us what was going on.

He returned about a half hour later (we were not quite halfway through with the job at hand), saying that the storm looked to be breaking and it wasn't cold enough between Laramie and Rawlins to freeze. He told us that we could take route 30 around the Elk Mountain pass and avoid both the big elevation and most of the traffic--and all of the semis--at a loss of only a half hour ro so. So, we took his advice and set off, grateful for the help when we really needed it.

We made it to Rawlins after a much calmer ride of 2.5 hours or so. It still rained on us and snowed at our highpoint, but the roads weren't slick and the wind was not as severe, and there were no trucks. We got a room avertising AAA and free high speed internet. We got $2 off and a counter kid who didn't know we needed a code and couldn't figure out how to get it.

I took a shower, fan running, door closed, and swore the whole time I could hear dogs barking.