This is what bad golfers call a round where you "grip it and rip it". In my situation, a perfect day. Bert and I needed to just ride in good surroundings, no tourists, no tricky curves, just good open road. The route I picked was perfect, though much longer than anticipated (on a map, the routes are only 2-3 inches, but F-me, this is out west). Open it up to 85mph, but ended up being a plodder compared to the locals whom blew by me at 95+ MPH.
As with every day on the trip, beautiful and stunning and humbling. What a fricking country we are in. Again, how did people walk across our country before there were McDonald's or Starbucks??
Bert and I just rode, looked at the scenery and grinned.
We were going to stop in Thermopolis for a hot bath, but Bert forgot his swim suit. Took a pict on the way past the spa
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