Des Moines-Cheyenne, WY

Trail Journal: Day 2 – From Des Moines to Cheyenne (A.K.A. "Hills! Finally!")

Our wagon (read: Mazda) rolled out of Des Moines bright and early, full of caffeine and ambition. Spirits were high, provisions were stocked (shoutout to road trip snacks), and miraculously, we’ve had no broken axles. Honestly, I’m shocked too.

As we pushed west into Nebraska, the land finally started to get a little spicy—aka hilly. After miles of flat, this felt like nature decided to add a little drama to the scenery. We followed parts of the Platte River like good little pioneers and even hit a few tourist stops and a solid lunch spot.

Let me be clear: I still cannot imagine walking this. Ever. The idea of through-walking across America is cute… in theory. For now, I’ll stick to comfy seats, podcasts, and air conditioning, thank you very much.

The big change hit us as we crossed into Wyoming. Trees? Gone. Hills? Flattened. Suddenly, it was vast, open land—like the West had just thrown its saloon doors wide open and said, "Howdy."

Rolling into Cheyenne, storm clouds greeted us with that dramatic flair I live for. Early evening rain made everything smell like earth and sky. Cheyenne still has its quaint charm, though it’s definitely grown up a bit since my last visit. A little more polished, but still holding onto that western soul.

We’ve made it safely—no dysentery, no snake bites, no wheels lost. Tomorrow? We ride again.