Rocky Mountain High, in Wyoming

First, real quick, here's a picture of Curt Gowdy State Park at 6:30 in the morning. My campsite was on the far side of the lake you can just make out. (Go ahead...click on the photo to make it bigger!) This was a nice place to spend the night.

I caught my first glimpse of the Rocky Mountains at mile marker 369 on I-80 yesterday; the first sighting of snow-capped peaks came today just outside of Laramie. I like the Appalachians a lot, and I struggle when hiking up through the White Mountains in New Hampshire, but the Rockies are a whole different deal. These are real, like the kind little kids draw. These are "purple mountain majesties."

I cruised around Laramie for a little while. I like getting a look a college campuses, and Laramie is the home to the University of Wyoming. I wasn't all that impressed. Nor was I impressed by Laramie's "historic downtown district." I followed the signs diligently, worried that I'd be disappointed by a recreated and Disneyfied Wild West of wooden buildings with false fronts. Instead I was disappointed by a very ordinary looking downtown with nothing to take me back to the days of Lonesome Dove cattle ranching. I learned as the day went on that seemingly every town of any size along I-80 has a "historic downtown district," and none of them are worth seeing. I know because I checked out the "historic downtown district" in Cheyenne, Laramie, Rawlins, Rock Springs, and Evanston. They all pretty much look like this picture from Laramie.

As I drove through Rawlins, feeling deceived by those enticing brown signs encouraging a look at the "historic downtown," I came across Square Shooter's Eating House, so I stopped in for a little breakfast. The pancakes were absolutely delicious! I've eaten a lot of pancakes in a lot of diners and family restaurants, and Square Shooter's stack up (another guffaw! another outstanding bon mot! Ah, geez...I kill myself!) with the best of them. If you are ever in Rawlins, Wyoming, stop by and tell 'em Carbon sent you; you'll be happy you did.

John Belushi's last movie--a stab at "serious acting," they say--is called Continental Divide. I've never seen it, but I did catch one scene once twenty-five years ago. Overweight John Belushi, with a down vest and a backpack, was struggling to keep up with the fit and nimble Blair Brown as they climbed the most beautiful mountain trail you can imagine. It stuck with me because I wanted to be there hiking with them. Kind of like that place the Brady Bunch goes camping with the girls for the first time, it just looked perfect. Up until today, I'd only flown over the Continental Divide, but I had always imagined that when I did finally cross it in a car or on foot, it would look like the trail that John and Blair were on. It didn't work out that way.

The morning's early excitement about "real mountains" was quickly tempered by the basins of southern Wyoming, which look a whole lot like western Nebraska, except that all of the grass is replaced with scrubby-looking shin high shrubs. It was surreal and attractive in its own way, but the snow-capped peaks were gone and the high altitude pines were nowhere to be seen. Again, it made me think of the moon. This wasn't John Belushi's Continental Divide at all.

Things began to change as I got near and then past Rock Springs and Green River. The purple majesties appeared again in the distance out both the port and starboard windows, and buttes and sandstone sculptures began popping up along the edges of the road, but there were still no trees or grass. Just when you think you've found a lunar landscape, mighty I-80 goes one better. Sadly, I didn't take any pictures, but feel free to use Google Maps's "street view" to see what I mean.