Camping At Miracle Mile

Last weekend, despite the temperature being 27 degrees, we finished packing up the truck at 5:00 am and drove out to the Miracle Mile on the North Platte River, Archer was pretty excited! The Miracle Mile is about 90 minutes from Casper and 60 miles (mostly dirt roads) away from any significant civilization. It is glorious in every way.

Upon arriving, we spent some time driving around looking for the perfect camping spot and fishing hole and promptly got out of the truck, into our fleece and waders and into the water for some fishing. After a good hour of not even having a bite, I got bored and decided to go take pictures of the beautiful scenery instead:

After running the dogs up and down the dirt road on my bike, Ani was tired enough to stay off leash around camp without running off (that's a first in the 3 years I've had her by my side) and boy was she stoked.

After a while, we set up the tent and I laid down for a well deserved nap (after just working 8 days straight at the hospital!). I woke up to Brad running up to camp yelling "Cheryl, wake up, I need your help for a minute!!". So expecting a bloody hand or missing phalanges, I jump out of the tent and he hands me a camera (which is also a 1st in the 3 years I have known this anti-picture man!). He may have gotten a stern speaking to about how to wake a person up and what a real emergency is, but.... it was a pretty big trout!!!

That evening I enjoyed a beautiful bike ride through the plains of Wyoming along the river, I let my breath escape me as I took in the sunset, I raced some deer across the road and then headed in for a steak dinner over the camp fire.

The next day we did some more fishing, I did some more napping. I went to visit the outhouse as duty sometimes calls, and when I tried to walk out, the DOOR WOULDN'T OPEN!!! Now it was no cheap, roll down the hill outhouse, look at this cement box of stinky death!

It was awful, I Started yelling for Brad out that tiny lil air hole near the ground, but the wind had picked up and he couldn't hear me. So I started kicking at the door, which was silly because the door open in. I scream some more for Brad and finally he came over to find out what was wrong. He couldn't budge the door with his hands or the credit card trick, and there were no obvious screws to take off the handle all together. I was no longer thinking this was funny. So Brad came back with a Hatchet, told me to cover my ears, and then... saved the day!! FREEDOM!!!

 Wyoming BLM... we do apologize and if you happen to see this post, we will gladly pay for the repair of the door but you may, in return, be billed for my psychological stress. 

We returned home that evening, and although a short trip without a large quantify of fish, it was another amazing weekend in the wilderness with the ones I love.