07/04/01- Today is the fourth of July. This is also the 2 week anniversary of the trip. We woke up in Dubois and watched the weather channel as usual, which warned us of big storms today- strong winds with heavy rain and lightning. I talked to my father last night and he suggested that we take highway 287, his favorite stretch of road in the country. First, though, we rode a bit, got a map, rode about 20 miles more, and then we stopped at a rest stop to wait out the storms that were surrounding us. Perfect timing. No more than 5 minutes after we stopped, the downpour began. We were safe inside the building, lucky for us. Ben and I watched from the building as motorcyclists began to pull over. We talked to a Harley-couple who parked their bikes under the roof of a picnic house. Pete and Charlotte were going to Dubois for the big celebration of the 4th. Ben and I didn’t know exactly where we were going to end up tonight. There was a town not too far away called Lander, but we wanted to go more than 75 miles. After talking to Pete and Charlotte for an hour about our trip the skies seemed to clear, so all four of us were getting ready to leave. They gave us a firework in case we didn’t get to play with any tonight. It was a huge bottle rocket, like one of the "professional" ones used in shows. They were able to purchase it because almost any type of firework, we were told, was legal in the state of Wyoming. They also gave us a $20 donation and wished us luck. They left while we packed all our stuff to leave. Pete the Harley rider, as we would refer to him later in the trip, was one of the funniest people I’ve ever met. It was joke after joke with him, but not the generic, predictable jokes like in Sabrina the Teenage Witch. This guy was really funny. I would give examples but it’s not even worth trying. You had to be there. As we were packing, the skies darkened again. We decided to wait a little while longer. Normally we would have ridden through the rain, but the westerly winds these storms brought in were especially strong, and the distance covered through headwinds like that is often not worth the energy robbed from our legs during the torment. So, we stayed. We passed the time by shooting off the huge bottle rocket Pete and Charlotte gave us and by trying to sleep. Anybody who knows me knows I like to climb things, so it should be no surprise that, when considering a location to nap, I chose the roof of the rest stop. Ben came up to the roof from time to time also, but the rest of the time he was climbing other anonymous objects like signs and walls. The talented guy he is, he perfected a weird flip trick off of a Swiss cheese sculpturesqe object in a big sandbox. Imagine 2 guys in brightly colored spandex, running around in the rain, climbing objects for no other reason than to entertain themselves. It worked, and we had fun despite our ostensibly clownish images. When Ben and I were both awake and on the roof of the building, we would peer through a skylight down into the lobby to make sure people didn’t take any of our gear, which was all unpacked and scattered against a wall. We could hear them say, “Whose crap is this? Why would these idiots leave all their junk here? I mean, we could take it all right now and the morons would never even know.” Oh, we would have known, alright. They never knew we knew what they were saying, though. It was fun playing spy-god. After we had our fun with the little people, we noticed a decline in the wind's force. We went for it. We packed up our "crappy junk" and rode through the headwinds on highway 287. The natural rock landscape was gorgeous. The clouds were dense and compact, and dark enough for the sun to glance out from behind them from time to time. It was like a scene from a movie. My dad was right. It was a ride through a movie set all the way to Lander, but before we made it there we had to go through another town. This town was run by dogs. There was a pack of about 8 stray dogs just chillin’ on the side of the highway, welcoming us to the town with friendly smiles. Funnily enough there seemed to be a growling foam dripping from the smile. As in Planet of the Apes, these dogs liked to try to control the humans; especially the ones on bikes, apparently. I sprayed them. They whimpered. At the edge of town, there was a fireworks stand with a short line. Perfect. Ben and I stopped to view the selection. We leaned our bikes against the side of the building and walked across the dirt to the end of the now shorter line. We were the only white people in sight. I think it's good for people of every race to know what it feels like to be a minority. I'm not a big fan of suffering from racism or any prejudice, but I would consider it healthy to know what it's like to be different. Mosquitoes were terrible in this town. Unbearable. I’m sure everybody in line was thankful when Ben and I neared them, because the heat from our sweaty bodies attracted every mosquito in existence. I don’t remember what Ben’s view was on the subject of staying or going, but I have a feeling I didn’t leave him much of a choice. I had to ride away from the insect-infested town immediately. With our skin dot-to-dotted with red swells, we continued riding out of the town, away from the setting sun, and eventually alongside a small lake. Dusk and moisture do not repel bugs. They do the opposite. Because it was getting dark, I took off my sunglasses. I have changeable lenses, but my clear lenses were packed in a pannier and I didn’t want to make Ben stop for me, so I didn’t say anything- I should have said anything, anything at all. Bugs had been flying into my mouth, getting stuck between my teeth, but when I removed my glasses, insects entered my eyes. You know how some people say, “a bug just flew into my eye!”? The phrase was no longer a metaphor to me. Going down a hill at 20mph, a bug can interrupt the squinting process, splitting the eyelids and literally fly into the eye. The flying beetles were bad because they felt like they bruised my eyeball with every high-speed impact, but the mosquitoes were the worst. They would hit me on my eyeball before I had a chance to blink, and get stuck in my eye’s dampness. I would immediately react by blinking, which often drove the little guy under my upper eyelid, taking him on a small journey to the back of my eyeball. What felt like termites at the verge of my brain were actually the buzzing wings and squirming legs of a suffering intruder. When my vision cleared, I saw fireworks- big, beautiful fireworks. Then we made it over the hill. Enormous, scattered, bursting, even more stunning fireworks. It was dark, but the bombs bursting in air lit our way. A night sky has never looked so splendid. “Happy 18th 4th of July, Ben.” Lander, Lander, Lander. We are finally here after a long day. This town reminds me of Litchfield, the town in which Ben and I met and spent our elementary and middle school years. The people in Lander are such nice folks. I spent about $10 on fireworks at an indoor fireworks trailer. After the owners found out what Ben and I were doing, they said they give people who bike across the U.S. free fireworks, and they threw in a bunch of other dangerous toys. Clever. Thanks, folks. Then we went to Taco Bell and they let us eat free food inside the restaurant, despite the fact that the lobby was closed. While we ate, the employees blew up tacos behind the kitchen and threw exploding bottle rockets at each other. After we ate, it took us a while to find a hotel that would give us a free room, but we have been spoiled lately, and I must be sure never to forget how thankful I am for each hotel that we get. Admittedly, Ben and I were starving for sleep, but it was the fourth of July and we had bags of fireworks, and even some Taco Bell friends within walking distance, so we decided to squeeze some more fun from an already drained day. We engaged in some great pyrotechnics fun behind Taco Bell with our new friends, barely escaping certain death a few times. This was especially fun for me since fireworks are illegal in Arizona. I think tonight was the most dangerous night of the trip. Before returning to the hotel room, I practiced some stunts on a friend of an employee’s flatland bike. Ben and I felt we had made the most of a great night. We quickly fell asleep watching The Daily Show. 75 miles.