Register Cliff

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This morning we crossed into Wyoming. I’m in the west! The plants have begun to change now too. There is sage and rabbit brush, yucca, ponderosa and even some cacti. These are the signs of the western desert that I know and love. In the evening we camped near a golf course just 2 miles from Register Cliff- a place where travelers have carved their names in the soft sandstone for a few hundred years. We decided to set up camp first and ride out there without our gear when it had cooled off. They have erected a fence to protect the some of the oldest writing. I was amazed at how beautiful some of the names were, you would think they’d used an old quill calligraphy pen. Much of the cliff was unprotected and there were no signs telling visitors not to carve their names. The couple who carved their names on their honeymoon in the 30s is no more or less precious than the school kids who came in the 90s. We didn’t carve our names. Maybe we should have, but it was late and we have a lot to do tomorrow.