Day 12: 500 Miles Across Wyoming Done!

At 2:15pm today on September 13th, I reached the western border of Wyoming, my 29th state crossed on foot.  This trip along the Oregon Trail was quite unique compared to my other states. It was historic, rugged, and behind glass doors.

Historically, the emigrants who traveled this path 160 years ago battled dehydration, wind, heat, cold, and rugged terrain.  I was right there with them as I battled the same elements.  While Hewett kept me supplied with water, food and bandaids for my feet, both of us still had to work hard to meet up at regular intervals so I could continue running at my daily pace of 40+ miles.  It amazed me that despite our advances in transportation, maps, vehicles, and sports products, I was still largely at risk from the same dangers that the settlers faced.  I was not likely to die of dysentery, or famine, or become a vicim of cannibalism.  But I was woken most of our nights while camping when the temperature dropped below 28 degrees. Our 3 season tents and summer sleeping bags were ill-equipt for such conditions.  If my trip were longer than 2 weeks, the toll from lack of sleep surely would have caught up with me sooner rather than later.

Were it not for the regular supply of energy powder, iced water and an endless supply of Pringles, I would also likely be counted as one of the fallen.  I came across a tidbit that the Oregon Trail has an estimated 10 graves per mile. Since I ran an average of 10 minute miles, that meant that I was passing the remains of some buried fallen emigrant at the rate of one grave every minute, or 5000 deaths across Wyoming.  That also doesn't include the endless cattle that fell dead from dehydration and sickness along the way as well.  It's not a place to go without a reliable vehicle, a full tank of gas, and a box of emergency supplies, or Pringles.

The trail was rugged.  Wyoming's landscape is vast. You can see for miles. Sometimes that is a good thing, you know what is coming up for the next hour, but it is also very mentally challenging to see your destination for such a long time.  As I was following highways on the scenic "Auto Route" for parts of the trip, I would often use passing semi-trucks as a guide for what lay ahead. Picking a bright colored 18-wheeler, I could lock my eyes on it and follow it up the road, watching for the route it took across the plains. If we were going up a gradual hill, I would watch it to see if it suddenly dipped out of view, indicating that there was a downhill ahead. If it banked to either side, I knew there would be a turn. Most often however, the trucks would get to a certain distance away and then appear to stop. The first few times this happened I figured there must be a wreck or road construction, but I eventually learned that when a large vehicle in the distance looks stopped, it's really just a sign that the road continues straight for much longer than you would be able to imagine.   These trucks were going 60+ miles per hour. I was traveling at 5.  And then you realize it, you've got nothing new to look forward to for a very long time.

Much of the Oregon Trail could be called rolling terrain.  We're talking very gradual hills. Ones that don't usually make you huff and puff, but rather give you a little something to offer as a surprise on the other side. Sadly, most of the surprises were simply more of the same.  And actually, the game became one of finding out simply whether there was another hill waiting for me on the other side or not. There are lots of places in Wyoming of course where you could go and have all sorts of geographical adventures: Grand Tetons, Yellowstone, Wind River Range, but the emigrants of the 1850's wanted to stay alive and make it west, so the route follows one of the most passable sections of the west.

As I neared the western border over the last several days, it was a treat to see the geography dramatically change. Yesterday, I ran 46 miles over much flatter ground toward the Green River, but this landscape has been changed by dozens and dozens of natural gas drill sites and had a very industrial look, feel and at times, smell.

Once leaving the Green River, the trail climbed significantly to 7,000 feet. This was the third day of stiff head winds and being even higher now the wind was unhindered as it came across the high plains. In order to finish today, I needed to do a big day yesterday. I've been sore each morning and after the first 20 miles, have been worn out for the remaining afternoon hours. I wanted to do 48 miles yesterday and so decided to put myself on a regime of 15 minutes running followed by a 5 minute walk. Runners call this the "15/5" method. It's usually a great way to get in big miles without wearing yourself out too quickly.

I got to 24 miles by noon using that system yesterday. I instructed Hewett to meet me exactly every 5 miles with my Hammer Nutrition drink and pills, which he did.   But after 5 hours of the plan working perfectly, I was halfway up a hill at 12:30 pm and a stiff head wind came out of nowhere and pounded me for the next 6 hours.  It totally killed my schedule, my mood, my pace, and my energy. Hewett felt it in me and tried to give me some encouragement. "Nobody would be expected to run in this, Brian. If you have to walk the rest of the day, that's fine."  It helped.  I did walk much of the afternoon yesterday, did a little jogging in the evening and made it 46 miles by 6:30 on the outskirts of the town of Kemmerer.  Hewett had scouted ahead and found a small city campground behind the city hall, so by the time I rolled in, the tents were already set up, dinner was cooked and my bed was ready.  He's awesome.

This morning, we estimated the border to be 29 miles away. It was actually 32 but I was able to rally my legs into one last day of running.  I even ran the last 2 miles in 8 minute mile pace, which feels really fast after nearly 500 miles two to four minutes slower.

Finally, I mention that the trail is behind glass doors because I felt that much of the actual trail was off-limits.  A great number of trail miles are located on private property. It is possible, with much advance work, to figure out who the landowners are, contact each one and attempt to secure permission to cross the trail on their land, but I had not made time for this before the trip.

There were a few instances where I came to a gate explaining that the trail ahead was a private / public partnership and that travel was allowed on the road, only to proceed several miles further to another gate saying that trespassers would be prosecuted. There were also numerous times when running on the highway that I would see a "Trail X-ing" sign. Looking to my left, I could clearly see the Oregon Trail wheel ruts, still sharply defined through the sage brush 160 years later. It would be headed straight toward the highway and end at the fence where the embankment for the road began. Looking to my right I could see the continuation of the trail going off into the horizon.  However, there was never any gate in the fence to allow one to get on the trail.  To actually follow the trail in these sections would require you to either drive ahead or back on the highway, find the nearest gate, then follow that dirt road until it intersected with the Oregon Trail.

I understand that very few others will likely set out to try and travel the actual Oregon Trail.  Those who want a glimpse of the past need only to visit the excellent National Historic Trails Center in Casper. Or, you could pick up the free driving guide and drive to some of the iconic landmarks along the route for a fun, history filled weekend getaway.  But traveling the trail, on the actual wheel ruts, is something that would be quite difficult for anyone to do, purely because of the landowner issues and the fencing of roadways.

Even if one has to travel the auto route to cross the state, I still believe that limiting visual development from the trail corridor is a good idea.  Getting access permission from a landowner is something that can be given at any time. Installing a gate is a simple improvement. Regaining the view of a vast expanse however, cannot be so easily undone.