Wyoming '99: Monday
After going through a locked gate and up miles of oil-pan-grinding gravel and dirt roads, Dixie and Amber got us to a spot where we could park our cars. We got out and walked up the old railroad grade to the trestle. The ridge we're walking along here is an artificial fill; it used to have rails running along the top of it.
We passed these plants, which Dixie identified as an intruder weed, called (if I remember right) Indian candles. Meanwhile, as you can see, the fill gave way to a shallow cut through a stone hill, maybe a hundred yards (through another locked gate, mainly to keep cattle from wandering out and over the edge) to the lip of the canyon, where we could stand and look down at where the trestle once stood.
Here we are standing on the upper edge of the cut, looking down into it. The train, of course, used to run through this cut.
Julianne walking along the top of the cut. The tracks in the grass below her are from modern vehicles, not the old rails.