Ha! More lessons learned, one I already knew but apparently needed some 'practical' experience to drive it home. Let's start from the beginning.
I left the library yesterday at about 3:00 and found my way out of Rawlins via 287 north- having to maneuver around the ubiquitous road construction (putting in a new sewer system). Getting out of town was relatively easy, but it became apparent that I've become spoiled. I called Chris to find out how close I was to where he crossed 287 on his trip, and through the discussion learned that he had the opinion of Wyomans(?) that they were much less likely to offer rides than other places. Unfortunately I had PLANNED on getting rides. The next town is 30- some miles up the road, and Lander was 120. I hadn't filled my water supply completely, and was carrying just my 3- liter Camelback. It soon became apparent that I should have left prepared. I have no idea what my stamina would be, although Wednesday was a good day for me to find out!
I continued up 287, and eventually got into the Prairie land of nothingness; not even trees. Traffic on 287 was medium, and the shoulder was wide enough. I took my time, stopped when I needed to to rest and eat, heard my first yells of "Git off thuh fukkin road...", and thought pretty highly of myself when I had gone 7 or 8 miles by 5:30 pm. I had been eyeballing places to camp for quite a while because I hadn't expected it to be so FLAT... no hills or trees to hide behind. I had also noticed places called "Walk- Ins" that consisted of a gate made of barbed wire, and a sign saying not to litter, and clean up after yourself. Obviously public, or state land. I found a place behind one of these gates that at least had some hills which would shield me from the wind, which was incredibly strong all day from midday on. I plopped down by the gate, and waited for a ride--- which never came. Chris was right.
At about 7:30, I headed back to prospect my camp site only to discover it had many uses, none of which had much to do with hiking or camping. It was a dump, and a dirt- bike trail. Lots of activity back there, and much of the refuse that was left behind had bullet holes! Just like Hillsdale! Ugh...
I was pretty sure though that since the sun was setting there probably would be no one coming back there to dump or ride, so I found a decent spot and set up the tent. It was still relatively light out, so I had time to gather wood from the trash I'd seen laying around and I had visions of a glorious night. The clouds had even dissipated enough to give me one HELL of a sunset.
I was out collecting my wood when it happened. My lesson. I knew better than to camp near where there's high human activity. See... 'stealth camping' is supposed to be... stealth. I wasn't so- stealthy. A truck pulled thru the gate and literally destroyed my little piece of Nirvana! I began having thoughts that maybe I was on private land ( I knew better), or that these two guys had seen me walking and decided to come and relieve me of what little I had. They'd have plenty of Cliff bars to take home I guess. The truck bounced around, diving up and down the hills and I believe they parked for a minute to smoke a joint or make sure I hadn't disturbed their (imaginary) cocaine deposit worth millions more to them than my life. I ripped the rain- fly off my tent when one of these guys climbed a hill at the other end of this place, and looked toward my direction. I was pretty sure he saw me and was about to bug out, but remembered what had happened on the S. Platte in Ft. Morgan last week. Nothing. So, I decided to wait and see what they did.
They left.
See how paranoia works?
I waited for a bit to see if they returned and when they didn't I built my little fire by burning Canada. I mean really- what do I need Canada in my atlas for? It was a nice fire; easy to light and I even used horse- dung to get it going. Yes it DOES burn, and doesn't even smell that bad. Thanks Les Stroud.
The fire helped me to regain my senses, and since it was getting cold, kept me toasty while I talked to Shalain to let her know what was going on. I got off the phone, peed the fire out (THAT stunk), and hopped in the sleeping bag- making sure that most everything was in the backpack and not even bothering with the rain fly, although it was going to drop to near 40. All this in case I had to make a quick exit-- still having visions of doom.
Ever see Stand By Me? Remember the part where they're in the woods camping and the fat kid, Vern, is standing 'guard'? You know, every time he heard a noise, he'd spin around like there was a ghost or something, all freaked out? I was Vern. All night. But I was instead imagining phantom rednecks. In fact, I now have a road name:

Vern.
I'll keep Vern until I earn another one. I'll be taking suggestions for last names, and I'd appreciate any correspondence to be addressed to "Vern" until further notice.
I woke up early this morning to the sight of my kind of visitors: elk. A herd of them. One was particularly interested in me- just eyeballing me while I smoked and eyeballed him. He didn't budge until I got up, then he darted off toward his friends. That was a great way to start the day, even though this cold I got from Leah's kids is getting stickier!.
I packed up and headed back toward Rawlins feeling as though I had grown a vagina for being freaked out so easily, but glad that I rode it out using the Platter experience. I had also had time to think about the wisdom of going further north. I decided no. I'm far enough north; maybe too far. I like warm. Warm: gooood. Plus, if I get to Lander and need to be 'stealthy' again, which is a certainty here, I'll have to deal with bigger critters than the High Plains Redneck. I'm not yet wanting to play mountain- man, so I've decided to get back to I-80 and point my thumb west toward California. Maybe Fresno to see what my sister's got going on. If not, I should be close enough to get toward Astoria from there.
There I go... making plans again. I think I just make this shit up to SEEM like I have a plan...
Way to go Vern-o!
Oh, about the lesson. If you're going to stealth camp. Don't camp ANYWHERE that there's a likelihood someone will show up! Laziness kills! Or at least scares the Bejeesus out of you...


