My day began in one of the country’s most haunted cities: Casper, Wyoming (pop: 59,000). It was here I learned a valuable lesson. It’s a variation on the Marianne’s’ Phenomenon, which has come up a few times in this blog over the years. To refresh your memory, you experience the Marianne’s Phenomenon when you mistake unique external conditions for food quality. This happened to me 30 years ago, when I ate at an Italian restaurant named Marianne’s. My wife and I had just taken a long bike ride and I was tired and famished. We sat down to a pasta meal and I was in heaven. “This is the best meal I’ve ever had!” I gushed. The next weekend I insisted we go back to Marianne’s to relive the magic. It sucked. I concluded that my elation at the first meal derived simply from my extreme hunger.
Here’s today’s variation: The motel where I spent the night offered free coffee, which I took with me in the car. It was almost undrinkable–it tasted like the watery and malodorous Folgers my mom used to percolate every morning on the stove. So I drove to the nearest coffee shop to try again, and this time it was the most delicious cup of coffee I’ve ever experienced. Now it’s possible that Copper Cup Coffee legitimately makes great coffee. But I suspect it has more to do with the contrast with earlier coffee. Surely there is an aphorism that neatly captures this? Something like “In the Valley of the Blind the one-eyed man is king.” I realize that one doesn’t exactly suit the circumstances; can someone help?
Anyway, equipped with The Best Cup of Coffee Ever, I pointed the Peregrinator west and headed out of Casper. Casper is a worthy town, situated on the banks of the Platte River and possessing a rich history as a US fort and as a waypoint for westward immigrants. But it’s a bit too big and modern for what this trip has focused on. The perfect illustration of this is Sanford’s Grub and Pub on SE Wyoming Blvd:
Sanford’s Grub and Pub in Casper, Wyo.
The place is flanked by a giant Daffy Duck and a giant Bugs Bunny.
No theme is too random for Sanford’s Grub and Pub!
The back parking lot has a Cadillac Ranch vibe, with the hulks of numerous old cars planted in the landscaping.
To be sure, Stanford’s Grub and Pub has many of the things I’ve enjoyed along Route 20: Old cars, streamline moderne architecture, roadside kitch. But it feels too curated, too much like it was designed in a lab by a soulless consulting firm in Greeley Colorado. It just tries to hard. Don’t get me wrong: It’s probably a great place to take the kids. And I’m told they have a great beer selection. It just lacks the sincerity that abounds along the quieter stretches of the route. So I got directly back on Route 20 and headed out of town.
Today’s route: From Casper (lower right) to Worland (where I departed Route 20) and east to Ten Sleep.
As we discussed yesterday, Wyoming has the least population density of any of the lower 48 states. There just aren’t that many towns, and most of those that I did encounter didn’t have much obvious history or engaging features. That said, the Wyoming landscape is starkly beautiful. Here are a few pictures from today’s drive:
Near Shoshoni, Wyo
Another view near Shoshoni.
One of the many proghorns in the state. The locals evidently call them “speed goats.” They can run as fast as 55 mph.
Seeking a narrow slice of shade.
“Hell’s Half Acre” near Powder River, Wyo. It’s an ancient gorge in the middle of the prairie, where Indians used to drive buffalo over the cliffs.
So, that should give you a sense of the stark beauty along my path today. I just don’t have many man-made features to show you.
My goal for the day was Ten Sleep, Wyo (pop: 260). The name comes from Native Americans, who said it’s a ten-day (ten “sleeps”) trek from Fort Laramie. Today it’s a quiet and pleasant town situated on the laconic Ten Sleep Creek.
Now, Ten Sleep is actually about 25 miles off Route 20. I took this detour because I’m meeting three old friends for a short reunion at Chris P’s Western Retreat. They will likely join me for the final leg of this trip along the original Route 20, which runs to the eastern entrance of Yellowstone. That will probably be on Monday. Until then, we’ll be hanging out at the Ten Sleep Brewing Company. If you’re lucky, I might post some dispatches of the ensuing hijinks.
Location, location, location.
Speaking of brews, it’s time for the…
Brew of the Day
tEven though I spent the evening at the Ten Sleep Brewing Company, the BOTD appropriately comes from a place along Route 20 proper. And that is the One-Eyed Buffalo Brewing Company in Thermopolis (pop: 2,725), which was the largest city on today’s trip. Thermopolis means “hot city” in Greek, in reference to the natural hot springs.
My BOTD was something called the W-Rye-O. It’s a brown ale aged in whiskey cask from Wyoming Whiskey distillers.
I’m a sucker for cask-aged beers of any kind. They generally have more depth and interest than a regular beer. For the W-Rye-O, the cask aging seems to have mellowed the brew. It’s extremely smooth and doesn’t have a lot of carbonation, and the hops are definitely reined it. There’s a distinct tinge of whiskey on the palate, though I wouldn’t say it complements the beer that well. In fact, the two tastes seem to be fighting against each other, akin to brushing your teeth after drinking orange juice. This beer has a slight off-bitterness that tastes like lighter fluid. It’s not enough to ruin the beer, but enough to lose a star. 3 stars.
In all my jaunts along the various blue highways criss-crossing the map, it never ceases to amaze me how varied this country is. Just over the past week I’ve gone from coastal New England, through the green hills of the Berkshires, into lighthouses on the Great Lakes, through the rust belt of South Bend and Chicago, between the manicured fields of Iowa farms, and under the leaden skies of the Great Plains.
In all honesty, there hasn’t been a single segment that I haven’t enjoyed, that I haven’t experienced beauty, that I haven’t met wonderful people. And yet, today’s segment was characterized by lots of long, straight stretches at freeway speeds across the plains of Nebraska. Faithful reader Brian W. had encouraged me to “enjoy the unique look and solitude” of western Nebraska. And I did. The sheer scale of its open space forces one to relax, and the solitude is conducive to contemplation.
Cheap therapy.
US 20 is the only major east-west route in the northern half of Nebraska. (Interstate 80 runs along the lowest third, through Lincoln and Omaha. For this reason, there has historically been a good amount of services along US 20. I encountered a surprising number of old garages and gas stations that have been preserved or restored to their vintage look. I peeked in the garages and saw walls lined with fan belts, racks of oil, piles of tires, and other evidence that these places still do business.
But what I appreciate more than the restored buildings are the historic roadside attractions that have just kept going, year after year, with just enough maintenance to stay in the game. That seems to be more the rule out in this part of the country. I’m sure part of the reason is that the local economy can’t support the wholesale replacement of infrastructure unless there’s a good reason. And there’s not enough population to entice national chain stores to locate their businesses here. The result is a “time warp” situation in many of these towns. Here are a few examples:
“Big John’s” had been a local burger chain in the 1960s that never caught on. This is evidently the only remaining sign–some sixty years old. The current business is an independent cafe in Ainsworth, Nebraska (pop: 1,600).
Big John doesn’t look amused.
In the town of Lusk, Wyoming (pop: 1,500) a redwood water tower still stands next to the railroad tracks. It dates to 1886, and used to provide water to the steam locomotives. They moved it once, in 1919, in line with changes in the railroad. The Tower is now something of an icon for the town, but it’s authentic and as you can see in the photo, the whole scene could be from a century ago.
The Lusk Light and Power Plant also looks to be a historical relic, but I couldn’t find any information on it
The Plains theater in Rushville, Nebraska (pop: 784) dates back to 1914. It’s gone through a number of different iterations, including a movie theater and a church. Today it is a live theater venue.
But let’s get back to US 20 itself. For the first 250 miles of today’s drive, the Cowboy Trail (that I mentioned in yesterday’s blog) runs alongside the highway. You’ll recall that the Cowboy Trail used to be a railroad line that’s been replaced with a hiking/biking path. I was surprised that I didn’t see a single person on the trail, but it’s still pretty new and maybe word hasn’t gotten around. But it’s interesting to see how all the old railroad bridges have been replaced with pedestrian bridges.
The lower pilings are left over from the railroad; the new wood slats on the upper sides were added for the Cowboy Trail.
The old railroad roadbed has been covered with crushed granite.
The reassuring monotony of the plains and the cloudy sky, with the Cowboy Trail close by at my right, had something of a lulling effect that required periodic infusions of coffee. But suddenly, in the mid-afternoon, I spotted some sharp buttes rising from the plains. These were most welcome after The Unbearable Flatness of Being that characterized most of the day’s drive.
Where did you come from?
I stopped at the nearby town of Crawford, Nebraska (pop: 1,000) to see if I could learn more about the buttes. My first stop was to get a refreshing beverage from a young entrepreneur named Case.
No BOTD, sadly.
Then, in the center of town, I found the local tourist bureau/museum. The door was open wide, and as I entered I was greeted by a docent named Cathy. She didn’t have a lot to say about the buttes, but she did encourage me to visit Fort Robinson, just a couple of miles up the road. Her father had been stationed there once upon a time, and a couple of family heirlooms are in the lodge.
Cathy is retired and volunteers at several places in town.
Fort Robinson has been around since the 1870s, playing a major role in the so-called Indian Wars, as well as the First and Second World Wars. The “Buffalo Soldiers” were stationed here, horses and mules were bred here, military canines were trained here, and it even served as a POW camp for German prisoners. The army decommissioned the fort in 1947, and it was converted into a state park in 1956.
1905 Headquarters Building, now repurposed as a visitors center.
One of a number of large horse barns, from when Ft Robinson was a “remount depot.”
Per Cathy’s suggestion I visited Fort Ross and tracked down the family heirlooms–these consisted of a “shadow box” with mementos from Cathy’s father, and a large art piece shaped like a buffalo, made entirely of buffalo nickels that Cathy’s family had collected from a bar they used to run.
Cathy’s father was on the camp’s polo team.A small fortune in buffalo nickels. (Apologies for the unavoidable reflection in the glass.)
A kind lady at the lodge helped me locate these items…and she turned out to be Cathy’s sister Diana. The resemblance is obvious.
Sister Diana.
By now it should be pretty obvious that most of the towns along this stretch of Route 20 are quite small and spaced far apart. It’s certainly a big change from California, where I come from. The population density in California is 254 people per square mile. In Nebraska it is one tenth of that, at 25 people per square mile. In Wyoming it’s 6 people per square mile. You have to wonder what kind of impact these differences have on a person’s sense of self, sense of society, sense of independence.
The smallest town that I passed today was Lost Springs, Wyoming. For some reason that I can’t fathom, they really leaned into their smallness when they commemorated the country’s bicentennial in 1976. At that time they erected this marker (which to me looks like a tombstone) that declares they are the “smallest bicentennial town.” According to the US Bicentennial Commission, in 1976 Lost Springs –with a population of 7–was the smallest incorporated town in the entire country.
They’re even smaller now:
BRIDGE CORNER
Near the town of Valentine, NE (pop: 2,600) a roadside sign directed me to a “historical bridge.”
A marker explained that this is the Bryan Bridge, which is the country’s only “arched cantilever truss bridge connected by a single pin.” Whatever that means. It was also designated “the most beautiful steel bridge of 1932 in class C,” which sounds like it might be a narrow category, but what do I know?
To test the “most beautiful” claim, I scrambled down the embankment and risked life and limb and tick bites to take the below photo from the bank of the Niobrara River.
Most beautiful of all the class Cs in 1932? You be the judge.
BREW OF THE DAY
There aren’t many brew pubs along this stretch of US 20. But I did find a place called “Cowboy State Brewing Company” in Glenrock, Wyo (pop: 2,400). Long-time reader Peter D. had recommended the town to me, as it was his father’s and his grandmother’s home town.
Now, Cowboy State is not your typical California-style brew pub. It’s a bar that dates back to the mid-1970s, with dim lighting, pool tables, and a bar stocked with gin and vodka. The place reeks of cigarette smoke, which might be because Nebraska allows smoking in bars, or maybe because 50 years of smoke can’t be eradicated from the pores of the room.
The 1970s called and they want their bar back.
Now if you think this doesn’t sound like my kind of brew pub, you’re right. I asked the bartender, Billie, if this was really a place where they brewed their own beer. She said yes, but then admitted that they “had to let the brewer go,” and thus they aren’t making beer right now. Nevertheless, she still had some of the Cowboy Cream Ale that they had made for the State Fair last year. Did I want to try it? Now, I’m not sure what the shelf life is for beer, but I suspect it’s somewhat less than a year. Nevertheless, I told her to pour me one–I had a blog to write!
Before I get to the beer, let me just say that Billie is one of those people who make you feel welcome at a bar. She came here from Louisiana just about a year ago, and took over as the manager. She says she puts in about 70 hours a week, but she’s still all smiles and energy.
However, the beer wasn’t very good. Maybe it’s because it was old. Maybe it’s because it’s a weird recipe. Maybe it’s because it’s just not my style. But to me it tasted like Budweiser–that kind of skunky, watery, feed-grainy, metallic taste that mystifyingly is popular with 32 percent of American beer drinkers. I can’t in good conscience give it any stars. But I do need to acknowledge that it was popular at the Nebraska State Fair and is a favorite with the locals. So maybe it’s just me.
I should point out, though, that the beer was only $2 (which is just 50 cents more than Case’s lemonade). And Billie gave me a branded beer cozy!
Two months ago I posted about the Jetsons-like Orbit gas stations that one used to see all over the Sacramento region. Most have since been demolished, a few converted to other uses, and one still operates as a gas station.
4716 Auburn Blvd, Sacramento
The other day loyal reader Chris P. sent this photo of a long-abandoned Orbit gas station in Incline Village, Nevada.
Corner of Highway 28 and Lakeshore Blvd, Incline Village, NV
The pine trees, the shake roof, and the stone facade are all reflective of what you’d expect in the Lake Tahoe area. But the bones of this building are unmistakably Orbit. According to Chris, the building has been vacant for decades.
It appears to be in remarkably good shape for its age, so surely there must be local efforts to reopen or repurpose it? Alas, apparently not everyone is as enamored with the place as I am, for in 2008 (that is, 17 years ago) the local Community Development Committee held a “Nuisance Workshop.” The Tahoe Daily Tribune described it thus:
The workshop served as a forum where residents could identify the nuisances particular to the Incline Village/Crystal Bay area. Residents were separated into tables of 10 and asked to address a set of 10 nuisances one at a time.
The paper went on to report that one especially grievous nuisance identified by the 120 residents in attendance was the Orbit gas station:
“As a solution, we suggest they maybe level the Orbit station,” said Incline resident Bea Epstein, who served as spokeswoman for her table. The statement was met with widespread applause from those in attendance.
On the other hand, I found a number of comments on local message boards where residents expressed admiration for the quirky old structure, with comments like “I would live there!,” “Bring back the crazy roofs!,” and “Can I buy this?” Other commenters suggested that it be converted to an EV charging station, a visitors center, or maybe a convenience store.
One of the online messages claimed that the building sits abandoned because the cost to clean up underground storage tanks (from its gas station days) would be prohibitive. Lake Tahoe has famously rigorous environmental standards.
So the future for this building remains uncertain. Get out there and check it out while you still can!
