https://www.facebook.com/share/v/1B4jBjDbda/ I left Wheatland in the morning, well rested and ready for a full day of riding. Heading north along Wheatland Highway, I enjoyed light traffic, wide shoulders, and peaceful miles. The scenery was amazing… rolling hills, endless farmland, and big skies. The birds were singing, the grasses swayed gently in the breeze, and for a while, it felt like riding through a painting. Before long, I turned east onto Highway 26 and cruised through easy miles toward Guernsey and then Fort Laramie. Guernsey is notable for its proximity to the Oregon Trail Ruts, deep grooves carved into sandstone by pioneer wagons in the mid 1800s. These ruts are a tangible reminder of the thousands who journeyed westward in search of new opportunities. More importantly, a reminder of the lasting scars left on the land and the devastating impact this migration had on Native peoples whose homelands were forever changed. The town itself was named after cattle rancher C.A. Guernsey and has a history intertwined with the expansion of the American frontier. The day was heating up fast as i approached Fort Laramie. I grabbed a cold soda and enjoyed some shade outside the only store in town. This small town is named after the historic Fort Laramie, a significant 19th-century trading post and military installation. The fort served as a critical stop for migrants on the Oregon, California, and Mormon trails, and it played a pivotal role in various treaty negotiations with Native American tribes. Unfortunately, like so many treaties from that time, many of the agreements made here were later broken or ignored by the US government, leading to displacement and hardship for the tribes involved. From Fort Laramie, I continued north, turning off the highway onto a dirt road that quickly shifted from smooth gravel to more of a rugged doubletrack trail. It made for some fun and interesting riding. The surface was mostly fast and hard-packed, with just enough challenge to keep things exciting. Eventually, I popped back out onto Highway 85 and headed north toward Lusk. The shoulder was wide, and the traffic didn’t bother me. I threw in my headphones, found a good rhythm, and started chewing through the miles. Lusk seemed like the perfect target for the evening. Lusk is home to the historic Lusk Water Tower, built in 1886 to serve steam locomotives and now listed on the National Register of Historic Places. I rolled into town with enough daylight to grab a pint and a pizza at the local joint. Both hit the spot after a long day in the saddle. At the campground, I got a pleasant surprise. The couple in the spot next to mine were also bike touring! Visiting from Switzerland, they had started their journey in Washington, D.C., and were making their way west to Vancouver. We swapped stories about gear, routes, and the joys of bike travel. Super friendly people. We made a plan to grab coffee together in the morning before heading our separate ways. As I settled into my tent that night, tired and content, I found myself reflecting again on how rewarding this trip has been. Touring by bike strips things down to the essentials:food, water, shelter, and the steady rhythm of turning the pedals. It’s been one of the most fulfilling adventures of my life so far, and I’m grateful for every mile.