There really is a rhythm of the road, or should I say a common refrain with accent notes. Rise, pack, eat, ride. Frequent stops for hydration and fuel. Find lodging, eat, unpack, plan tomorrow's route, sleep. It's mostly the same but the accent notes are the weather and the clothing and gear choices you make in response. Day 14 of the 2018 Prefrontal Tour was the coldest we've seen yet, and it took us a couple hours to make the right choices. Although it was in the 50's in Salt Lake City, as we rode up the gentle switchbacks to Summit Park it dropped to 35 degrees and faceshield fogging meant cracking the visors to maintain visibility. We made a stop to switch back into the cold weather gear, and to "coffee up" to try to overcome the lethargy of a Brazilian Steakhouse dinner the night before. Truth be told, neither of us was feeling it. We passed through Echo, Utah and the rock formations were impressive, great red dollops of rock with little holes pockmarking their flanks, like giant birds had pecked their nests into the cliff faces. We rose up out of Utah in a series of steppes, and back into the high plains of Wyoming. Signs were flashing along the highway that I-80 was closed to light, high-profile vehicles due to wind gusts exceeding 60 mph. Remember that semi truck that was tipped over yesterday? The reports were very accurate, and pretty much at the mile marker indicated we felt the invisible hand pushing hard from the south. We carried on, the bikes leaning to the right to counteract the worst of the gusts. We came back across the Continental Divide, and thereabouts we also crossed the 5,000 mile mark for the Tour. Two small accomplishments, two great big feelings. We're on our way back, and everyone is safe and sound. We hadn't seen a deer since the Triple Nickel in Ohio, and I was beginning to think we wouldn't see one until we got back home, the west being devoid of large wild herbivores. Coincidentally, just west of Laramie in Saratoga, Wyoming, we spotted a half dozen herds of pronghorn antelope, mostly laying in the fields on either side of the road to get out of the wind, and what appeared to be elk - far away from the road and high on a hill, standing among the trees that had started to dot the landscape at higher elevations. It's a beautiful climb out of Laramie toward Cheyenne, and the wind gave us a few more kicks before tapering off as darkness gathered. As much as the rising sun is an issue in the morning, it's a blessing to have it at your back in the evening. As a parting gift to today's update, I'm including a photo of the "view from the cockpit", minus the phone in the holder because hey, I have to take the photo somehow. Despite the conditions of both the riders and the ride, it was a day closer to home and loved ones, and an opportunity to learn and grow. Onward and upward.