Saturday, April 30, 2011 - Sinclair WY
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Camped, Dugway Ramp Recreation Area, Sinclair WY, April 30, 2011
Snow
It snowed last night in Meeker CO and it's been a gray day with snow squalls off and on all day. Like yesterday, today took me much farther than I had hoped. I was on the lookout for a place to boondock all day and didn't see anything promising until I got here. This will do nicely for the night. It's not hugely picturesque but there is a river right outside my door. We like that.
North Platte River
Rand McNally tells me that's the North Platte River out there. That gives me an idea. I've been planning to follow the North Platte and Platte rivers across southern Nebraska on my way east. Why not start here and follow it as it makes its way up through Casper and around the bend to the east?
Birds
There are birds here. And a cliff with nests on it. I think I'll stay tomorrow, see what's here, get a few pictures, then head out Monday.
Night camp
Site 5 - Dugway Ramp Recreation Area, Sinclair WY
- Verizon cell phone and EVDO service - no service
- Locate Dugway Ramp Recreation Area on my Night Camps map
- Check the weather here
Proficiency in Knowledge of the World
There are all degrees of proficiency in knowledge of the world. It is sufficient, to our present purpose, to indicate three. One class lives to the utility of the symbol; esteeming health and wealth a final good. Another class live above this mark to the beauty of the symbol; as the poet, and artist, and the naturalist, and man of science. A third class live above the beauty of the symbol to the beauty of the thing signified; these are the wise men. The first class have common sense; the second, taste; and the third, spiritual perception. Once in a long time, a man traverses the whole scale, and sees and enjoys the symbol solidly; then also has a clear eye for its beauty, and lastly, while he pitches his tent on this sacred volcanic isle of nature, does not offer to build houses and barns thereon, reverencing the splendor of the God which he sees bursting through each chink and cranny.
Essay VII, Prudence Ralph Waldo Emerson