The answer is nobody. You can't trust Google so you can't trust anybody.
The first 30 miles or so went beautifully. Fort Collins is a ridiculously great city for biking around in, and this extends reasonably far outside its boundaries. For the first chunk of the ride there's these great frontage roads that parallel the Interstate with more bikes than cars. Then they disappear and you're faced with gravel frontage roads.
Not nice, solid dirt roads that are like pavement but dusty. No, much of these were soft dirt with loose, golf ball-sized gravel that made riding interesting, to say the least. Ten miles of this in Colorado. It was around mile 30 that I also realized I'd forgotten these states are at something like 50,000 feet elevation with humidity that requires scientific notation to express how low it is. So I ran out of water around mile 30, in the middle of absolutely fuck-all. No gas stations, no fast food, nothing but isolated farms.
I've been planning to ditch my mountain bike, the same one I've had for the past 15 years, and get a nice city bike. Slicks, rigid front fork, just the frame and slightly thicker tires to make it clear I'm still too tough for road bikes. Even visited a couple bike shops in Fort Collins yesterday to see what they had. Slicks would have made me cry on these roads, I'm sure.
Finally, around mile 40, I made it into Wyoming. Cheyenne and home were still 10 miles away, but I was nearly there. There's a big trailer park/ranch thing at the border where I got to fill up on water and we even switched back to a paved frontage road. For a mile or two.
This is where Google and I really began to disagree. It sent me onto another dirt road, which also happened to be private property. I agreed, if only because the only other route that didn't add five miles to my trip was the Interstate itself. I was supposed to spend another five or six miles on this private dirt road, but after two I noticed a nice stretch of fresh blacktop just off my path. Fresh blacktop which Google doesn't even show. Fresh blacktop that ended in a construction zone 100 yards behind where I got on it.
I took this road for a good three miles, enjoying gentle hills (mostly down), great blacktop, and not a single other person on it. Because it was also closed off at the other end. At least it's Sunday and nobody was there to notice. From there I just had a couple more miles to the hotel, which I safely made as I decided never to ever ride that route again.