We left Ogden, UT the next morning and caught I-80 into Wyoming. This was to be our day of major travel. We wouldn’t be stopping to see the sights or to take pictures, only to fuel up the car and ourselves. I started in the driver’s seat that morning, and by noon we were in Laramie, Wyoming, where we stopped for lunch. We also hit the local Wal-Mart for a couple of last-minute souvenirs.
Cindy took over the wheel and we headed south out of Laramie on I-25 towards Denver, Colorado. On the northern part of the city we hit a major traffic jam, with cars backed up for miles. I took out our atlas (paper, not electronic) and found a street we could take from the next exit. That street ran parallel to the Interstate, and connected to I-70, which we planned on using to flee Denver. It worked like a charm.
After fighting some of the outbound traffic on I-70, we were soon zipping along, heading east. Our plan was to drive as far in Colorado as we could before the sun set.
We made excellent progress. The sun started to set so we determined to stop in the next town that had a motel to spend the night. We drove until we were about and hour from the state line. We stopped in a town that I had Googled. The Internet told me that there were at least two motels there. We saw one and decided to pass it by because it looked pretty run down. Then we searched the town for the other motel. It didn’t exist. We drove up and down every street in the town. There was only the one motel, so we stopped there. I went into the lobby and found no one there. I rang the bell on the counter. No response. I waited a bit and rang it again. No response. I rang the bell and called out, “Hello.” No response. I rang again and yelled, “HELLO!” No response. I walked over to an open door that led to the manager’s room. “HELLO!!” I yelled. No response. I stepped into the room and looked around. I decided that looking for the manager was a waste of time. On my way out the door of the motel I decided to look behind the counter. There were no bodies, so I left with a clear conscious.
We drove another half an hour or so until we reached Burlington, Colorado. We pulled off the Interstate and checked in at the first motel we saw. It was interesting. The room we got appeared to be in the middle of restoration. The bathroom mirror was propped up on the floor in the bedroom between a chair and a table. The mattress, not a new one, felt as if a wrecking ball had been sitting on it for a few months. But it was a bed, and we slept the sleep of the exhausted.