I am exceedingly fond of Lander

There is a stall in the women’s bathroom at the Planet Bluegrass Festival Grounds, and on the wall it’s written, “I am exceedingly fond of Andrew Bird.”

That’s pretty much how I feel about Lander. I haven’t been here long enough to love it, but so far there’s a nice, relaxed vibe here. People are friendly and there are my kind of people here: dirtbag climbers, mountain bikers, hikers, mixed in with actual cowboys. We fit right in.

The drive getting here pretty much super-sucked, but Lander is so fabulous that I’m willing to overlook it. See, the drive out of Steamboat Springs started out okay. But once we hit Craig, CO, and turned north, the landscape became acres and acres of rolling rabbitbrush and greasewood. No trees. Not even a lot of cows. It’s one of those empty parts of the state.

Then there were the winds. Holy crap, was it windy. We followed what looked like a food truck for over an hour. This vehicle was also towing a trailer, and the driver was having a heck of a time with the wind. The worst was a big gust that almost blew him off the road. That same gust also ripped the A/C cover right off the top of his rig.

Yay, wind.

We stopped for an obligatory picture when we crossed over into Wyoming (you might have seen it on our Instagram account). Taco Negro has been to Wyoming before, of course. We love to mountain bike at Curt Gowdy State Park near Cheyenne. But now we were much further west.

The landscape didn’t change. Neither did the wind, through Rawlins, and basically all the way until we descended down into Lander. First stop – of course – a bike shop. Mike gave us the beta.

There is free camping in City Park, he said, along with a municipal tap to fill our water containers. There is dispersed (free) camping outside of town, and one is just up the road from a network of mountain bike trails called Sinks Canyon.

We set up camp at a sweet spot right next to the river. 

In fact, I found a big fat rock that was perfect for watching the water flow by. We ate dinner up there too, much to the dogs dismay.

The next day promised to be a warm one, so we tried to get our ride in early. Not entirely successful on that part, but we still had a fun ride. Except for the cows. Yes, there were more cows on this trail. It wasn’t as fun this time. These cows didn’t get off the trail as they ran away – no, they just kept heading further up the trail. Eventually we got past them and then had a lot of fun.

I made a stoner recovery meal: mashed banana with peanut butter and a little bit of Cholaca. There is no “after” picture, as it looked pretty gross. Tasted delicious though, and that’s what counts. Right?

Then came second breakfast.  Yep, it’s good to travel with a chef.

Even better, Michael made us beef stew for dinner. The original plan was to use charcoal, but that takes 2-3 hours. Somehow time got away from us (funny how that happens, even now that time is kind of irrelevant), so he put the dutch oven on the stove.

Thursday morning we packed up and headed back towards Lander, with stops at Sinks Canyon State Park along the way. The name comes from a spot where the Popo Agie river “sinks” or disappears into the rock, resurfacing about ¼ mile away. Here’s the cool thing: despite the short distance, dye tests have shown that the water takes over 2 hours to travel that distance. Even cooler: it’s not all the same water. So is there another source? What’s going on down there? Nobody knows. The cave the water disappears into is so tiny and narrow that nobody can explore it.

We came back to Lander and set up camp in City Park. Yep, that’s where all the dirtbaggers (like us!) were hanging out. Some were in tents, some were in campers and RVs. City Park has picnic tables, trash cans, and flush toilets. We found a nice spot in the shade.

We decided to walk down to Main St and hit up the Lander Bar. It’s also a brewery, and they have pretty good beer. Very good wings, too. A crazy mix inside, of college students, cowboys, and people in shorts, Chacos, and down jackets. Good people watching.

We’re headed north next. We stopped in the local Forest Service office and were already advised of a place to avoid – hard-sided campers only. Apparently a grizzly sow and her cubs come back to that area every summer. We asked about roof-top tents, and the nice lady said no. Apparently a couple years ago a bear crawled on top of a trailer to get to the roof-top tent…

Come hell or high water, we’re going to Yellowstone.