Crossing the Continental Divide, Chasing the Storm

I rolled out of bed at 4:30am today — still pitch black and bitterly cold. I made a cold coffee, got dressed, packed, and at 5:00am I gently woke up my crew. By 5:30am, we were bumping back over the steep gravel roads out of Atlantic City — big applause to my sister who’s driving the RV like a pro on these tricky mountain roads.

Fourteen miles later, we were back at the South Pass Rest Stop, where I left off yesterday. I was hesitant to step out into the freezing wind again, especially knowing rain was forecasted mid-morning. My goal: cover as many miles as possible before the weather hit.

Within the first 30 minutes, I reached a sign that stopped me in my tracks — Continental Divide. Really? I made it here? Wow. It hit me hard. All the rivers from here flow west — to the Pacific. This milestone means a lot. Quiet but powerful.

Today, my body responded better than yesterday — I could run. The air was still ice cold and distant clouds kept me alert, scanning for signs of rain. The landscape was vast, open, and raw. At times I could take it in with awe. At others, it was all about keeping my legs moving — step by step.

My first stop was with the crew at mile 14. Quick refill and off again. By mile 20, sleet hit hard — snow mixed with ice, stinging like pin needles against my face. I took shelter in the RV, a warm toilet, bundled up, fueled, and mentally prepared to go the final 14 miles without another break.

I ran out into the cold determined. The first part went well — I got into a rhythm and even pushed some energy into it. But the final 4 miles were a grind. Wind punched me in the face, shoved me backward, made each step feel ridiculous — like running into a wall of air. But I didn’t stop. I just kept going.

Arriving in Farson, I headed straight into a gas station to ask about the RV park. The woman pointed me next door, where I found a number to call. Katie, the person in charge, showed up 10 minutes later and sorted everything. We paid at the station, got the RV plugged in, and finally could exhale.

My sister grabbed a power nap. My mom battled the phone trying to get a signal. I got some work done.

Then, a treat: Farson’s famous GIANT ice cream. We shared one — it lived up to the hype.

As we settle back into the RV for the evening, it’s wild to think — we timed this section perfectly. The pass is now closed to RVs due to the storm. For nearly a week I’d been studying the forecast, adjusting plans, pushing through miles with purpose — and it worked. We made it over safely, just in time.

To my crew — thank you. Your support makes the impossible feel possible.

To all of you following along — thank you too. Your presence, even from afar, means more than you know.

Tomorrow is another day. Let’s see what it brings.