Day 23. Gackle, ND to Enderlin, ND

The cyclist only respite, the "Honey Hub", in Gackle was well received by its inhabitants last night.  The fact the we had a nice shower and a couch to sit on is a welcome retreat.  Having a comfortable worn couch to sink into is something you may not consider that special. However, when you are camping, or even the nights in the hotels, there is not typically a "comfortable" sitting chair.  To ease back and relax your lower back with some deep sitting is fantastic.  

Our host the Millers, of the Miller Honey Farm, have a great concept in leaving this one room basement unlocked for any cyclist coming along the cross country route to make themselves at home.  As mentioned yesterday, they simply rely on donations.  It was started as a concept by Jesse's father who was a marathoner and bee keeper.  He, along with three others, started the "Honey Stinger" brand of sports and energy supplements.  I picked up a few they had for sale in the room to try on the road.  I had tried the "waffle" style some years back, but opted for the gels this time.  

The Millers stopped and chatted for a few moments when they got home.  They mentioned they would come back down once the put their kids to bed.  However, based on the bit of commotion heard upstairs, that did not go as smoothly as they planned; I would guess.   So we did not get the opportunity to visit with them.  Before retiring to my tent for the night, I stuck a green pin in the center of Lakeland, FL on the wall map representing the residences of the visitors who passed through.  As the only pin in Lakeland, and one of only 5 pins from the State of Florida, it was quietly a proud moment.  

With rain passing and the night cooling, I left a few items out dry overnight, but there have been some changes that have caused that to be a bad idea.  For most of the first three weeks, the humidity at night has been very low.  Last night however, it was 100%.  So instead of my apparel gear drying, they did an amazing job of absorbing moisture.  There was a dryer in the room, and I did not want to disturb the guys last night, but had no choice this morning.  

As independent riders, there was almost an unspoken rule that we would leave separately tomorrow and catch up on the road, if it worked out.  Gordon said more than once he was leaving at first light.   I am usually excited to get the day started and like to leave early as well, but knew I would wait for him to leave first.  Indeed he left at first light, but what stunned me was that he left in a heavy fog.  A bit later I pedaled up to the Co Op for some food for the day, as there is only one C-Store on the route today.  I waited there for quite a bit of time before I felt it clear enough to get on the road.  Gary has said he would come along a bit later.  

It was about 7:45 before I left the Co Op.   The route certainly starts to flatten out with only one big descent and climb in and out of a bit of a valley where the little Yellowstone River park resides.  It is about 55 miles into the ride and that is where I stop to have lunch.  With a helping tailwind and relatively flat terrain, I cover the 74 miles in relatively short order.  I am in a hotel tonight and that turns out to be good as other storms are coming through as I type this.  I have my wet camping and shelter gear strewn about the room in an attempt to dry it out.   The room looks like a labyrinth of tents and tunnels that my great nieces and nephews would have a grand time crawling through.  

There has been some significant, yet subtle changes of the landscape in recent days.  

The evolution of the route over the past few weeks has been interesting.  For instance the scents have changed.  Initially it was the aromatic cedars and sweet sap of the pines.  That gave way to the clean dry smells of fresh cut hay and combined grains.  More earthy aromas of the livestock and farms were present as I travelled east.  The dusty heat of some of the harsher lands were part of the flow into the surprising lake and swamplands of the past two days.  I did not expect the heavier, almost stagnant smells of marsh and muck the last couple of routes.  You would almost think I was home, except for the higher, fresher, green notes that remain mixed in the air. Oddly, all of these have been interrupted by the pungent scents of a skunk.  It is curious to me that a wave of a polecat's presence is noticed on average once every day.  

The animals have changed as well.  We have noted the change from predominance of wildlife to livestock.  Even the bovine mix is changing from almost exclusive Angus to Hereford and Charolais that I saw on the route today.  I am starting to see more of the black and white splotch painted Holstein dairy cows as well.  

As you may have noted, I enjoy the watching the fowl along the route.  Besides the increase of waterfowl in the area, the fields were still great sources to spot casts of Hawks and covey of Grouse. But the highlight of my ride today was seeing several ringneck pheasant explode from the long roadside grasses and drag their long tail feathers into the rows of corn.  Their golden plumage, bright green head and distinctive red wattle are a sight to see in flight.   

One final major change over the last two days.  The first three full weeks of evenings and nights have been special for many reasons, but one distinctive reason I have not mentioned before.  No bugs.  I have not had to apply any Deet spray for the first 21 days.  With the advent of the wetlands yesterday, that changed with introduction of Mosquitos.  I understand the roads the next couple of days will be flat and dry, so hopefully the Mosquitos may be temporary.  However, the lakes of Minnesota are a few days away and my guess is I will be going through some spray.  

On to Fargo tomorrow.

Day 22. Hazelton to Gackle, ND

As it turns out, no overnight rain. The only late night disturbances were those of the road work crew that are staying in camping trailers in the park. A slight bit of late night revelry is quieted quickly and I go back to sleep to the buzz of their air-conditioners and generators atop their RV's. Slightly envious, I might add. 

I awake to a morning without rain, but it is imminent. My plan is to break camp quickly so as to not end up with a pile of wet gear that I must deal with later that night. I am the first to ease out of the city park. Jodee is the only other one outside their tent, and she is working on her blog. I found out the previous day that she is an Arsenal fan. I choose to forgive this shortcoming as she will be posting the story and links to AFI in her blog. We bid each other safe travels, and I set off for Gackle. I am looking forward to tonight's stay. It is a cyclist only stopover called the Honey Hub. Jason and his wife are beekeepers and run a business of honey and pollination. It is run on donations only. 

I set off and see the storms building to the SW. I am hoping to make it 24 miles to Napoleon, where I want to find a cafe to hangout in and wait the storm out.  It does not take long to determine that my plan will not work. The thunder and high lightning increase and the visibility decreases and the clouds darken the sun's early morning attempt to breakthrough. It becomes apparent that I best seek some shelter. I have been eyeing the bales of hay near the roadside and decide that they would work. I pull out my emergency tarp and brace it with my bike to the hay roll. I am not sure what the storm will produce, if it will be a gulley washer or not.  Since the hay is in the gulley, I "bale" on that idea and opt for a bit higher ground. There is a large ornamental stone under a sign for a cattle business. I repeat the same process next to the rock. Take off a pannier to sit on, and sit and wait out the storm. By sitting and waiting out the storm, I mean I take a nap.  The rain pelting the tarp has a strong pull on my eye lids and I succumb. Although it was good that I got off the road in that weather, the storm is not that bad and once it eased, I was back on my bike to Napoleon. It is raining the whole time over the 13 miles into the town, but I am pretty dry with my newly purchased rain gear.  

I have been rained on a couple of times, lightly. In Great Falls on the rain day, while spinning about, I determine that the rainsuit I packed was not going to work out.  It is a Frogg Toggs jacket and has worked very well on multiple backpacking trips. However, I determine that while it is lightweight, it is a bit bulky, catches too much wind and is not quite waterproof in the higher winds. So I went to the local hiking store back in Great Falls and inquired about a lightweight, waterproof, cheap rain suit. The owner said that I can have two of those three choices.  Like my friend Kelly Davis says, there is not bad weather, only bad gear. So I opt for lightweight and waterproof. My wife will be glad that I have the protection, but somewhat less enamored when the bill arrives. Nevertheless, it got a full test today and was hugely successful.  

In Napoleon, I decide to eat some breakfast of eggs and two large pancakes and see what the storm does. Another band is imminent and the forecast is calling for 70 to 90 percent for most of the rest of the day. So I decide to just trudge back out in my wet gear and get on with it.   

On the way out of town, I run into Gary. We decide to ride together to Gackle. We are enjoying the beautiful views. The rolling hills are gentle and the buttes and domes are few. The constant color and hue contrast in the crops is incredibly scenic. I thought by now I would be tired of wheat, but I am not. Their golden and amber tops sway with the winds and it is entrancing. What surprises me in this ride is the dozens of lakes and ponds along the route. Some edged in sunflowers, others protected by cat tails, all holding scores of birds. Dozens of varieties of ducks, I am told later that this is the duck capital. Cormorants drying themselves in the trees. Coots, grebes and moorhens paddling alongside the ducks.  Sandpipers on the shore. Even white Pelicans. As if to highlight the colors of the day, I spotted several male Goldenfinch.  

About 5 miles of riding along with Gary, I get a flat. Well, at least it is not raining at this point.   I tell Gary to go on ahead and I will meet him in town. So I change the tire pretty quickly and take off. About a mile later, another flat. I can't figure out what is causing the flats, but at that moment I am very grateful Blake found me a place to get the spare tube the previous day. A huge win. Since I cannot find the cause, I decide it is either the tire worn thin somewhere or the valve hole on the wheel is rubbing the tube. I take a bit of the electricians tape that I had wrapped around pencil and apply it as protection for the valve opening.  I then replace the tire with the Schalbe Marathon tire I have as a spare. After re-assembly, I cautiously start to pedal down the road. I constantly check the tire and all seemed well, and it ultimately holds up fine. 

I catch Gary about 9 miles from our destination and we ride into Gackle. The ride is beautiful and even with the added adventure of the storms and flat tires, it is one of my favorite rides of the tour.  

As we arrive it Gackle, it has amazingly not rained on us since we left Napoleon. However, it starts a downpour one block from our lodging for the night. When we arrive Gordon is there. Gordon is from Edinburgh, Scotland and I met him on the road a couple of days ago. After a refreshing shower, we walk up the street in the light rain for pizza. We have good time embellishing stories for a bit until we retire to our room. The basement room has two beds, so I volunteer to pitch my tent in the backyard under a tree and let my co-advernturist take the relatively comfy beds. The weather is supposed to have passed, so it should be a beautiful night.  

Day 21. New Salem to Hazleton, ND

The rains did actually come in the night at New Salem.  So as it turns out, it was a good plan to get the cheap motel.  

I walked to the Sunset Inn, a small cafe, to have breakfast. It was a pretty full house as several of the folks that run the combines were there for a leisurely breakfast, as was I. The combiners did not seem to be bothered by the rain, and almost grateful for the morning off. Several of them I had seen from the night before at the same place. Wild Bill, as he introduced himself, was a retired farmer who had gotten bored and went back to running a combine.  He explained how he had been doing that since he was 12 years old. I got a quick lesson in the finer points, including the almost lazy efficiencies of the GPS navigation that drove these huge machines. Wild Bill was very colorful in his descriptions of his work, as well as his two knee replacement surgeries. --- as I am sure you can imagine.  

Eventually the rain weakens and I leave in full rain gear toward Bismarck, which is my lunch destination. The rain subsides a bit, and frankly I do not mind riding in it. The overcast and drizzle filters the sun like an elongated morning. In my eyes, it accentuates the contrast of the golden wheat, the deeper green corn stalks and the brilliant yellow flowers. I actually enjoy it. 

The wind is the problem. It is in my face for most of the early ride and at this point you just figure you have to deal with the 14 MPH winds all day. If only it were that easy. As the sun started the break through and the rains subsided, the winds worsened. As I am approaching Bismarck, the gusts are 30-40MPH.  At two different points, the gusts were so bad in the uphill that they nearly knocked me over and I had to stop my bike.  On one particular downhill, there was a truck warning for steep grade. I was hoping to catch some relief, but at some point was coasting down that hill at 9MPH. The wind, it can certainly be a fickle friend. On this day it was an impish bully.  

Before the day started, I had hoped to make it to Bismarck by 10 and to take a break to investigate the capital of North Dakota. As it turned out, it was after 1pm when I arrived.  Nevertheless, I did have a great lunch at Revas Pitch, a soccer themed hamburger joint.  The options were wide and varied and I spiced mine up pretty good with hot peppers and sauce,  it was delicious.  I found it interesting that the owner, who was working the kitchen, had been at the last two World Cups.  Much respect.  When I say I found it interesting, that is code for envious, an ugly emotion.   

After enough time avoiding the wind, I reluctantly decided that I had to just put my head down and handle it.  

On the way out of town, my brother Blake had located a Scheel's Sporting Goods that I could get my spare tube for my travels. He has been doing the heavy lifting on the logistics and finding services, hotels for this trip. It has been invaluable. He has saved be from destruction more than once.  

As I climb out of Bismarck, there are several steep grades that are all...all...all....into the wind. Relief is on the way, however as the winds do indeed lighten and settle about 12-14MPH.  Later in the ride the wind does start shifting to slightly SW crosswinds, which was considerably better, helpful.  

The high winds are not without their benefits. The birds often struggle as well, but in doing so, often fly close to the bike until they give up and swoop past like a dart.   
As I reach near the end of the route, I have to turn 13 miles into the wind again for the finish of what turns out to be an 80 mile day.  At the corner there is a cyclist who is riding a tandem bike.....alone. As I round the corner, I pull up next to Gary and inquire about his choice of bikes. Gary's wife passed away last year and he is riding this trip in her honor. Gary and I finish the route together, enjoying the ability to draft off each other of the last stint. 

We are late getting into Hazelton and the sun is going down and casting long shadows over the fields and the road. Along the way, the wind slowly eases and a Hawk joins us for about 200 yards, flying along gracefully to our left.  

When we arrive in the city park in Hazelton, there are four other cyclist already there. Beth and John are from the UK and are on their way to Vancouver to live for a while. As John said, "we will figure it out when we get there, I suppose". Jodee and Heather are from Boston headed to Astoria. They are all headed West. We spend some time sharing intel on the rides that each of us will have in the coming days, places to stay and not to stay, etc.

After dinner and camp setup it was time to retire to our tents, predictions are for several waves of thunderstorms through the night. As such, we all take special care to make sure everything is secure.   
Looking forward to the short ride to the Gackle in the morning. 

Day 20. Into New Salem

The winds for today were 14mph and unfortunately they were headwinds and crosswinds out of the East.  This is a precursor to rain coming through, as some of the locals told me. Indeed the weather forecast at my destination of New Salem, ND was for rain coming in about 9pm and increasing chances overnight to 90%. Rain chances to diminish afternoon the next day, but maintaining low 30% chance through following evening.  

Armed with this information, I make some changes to my plans. First, I was to camp in the park in New Salem, but with constant over-night rain, I switched to a cheap road-side motel. The road-side motel in New Salem.  

Additionally, with the wind forecast, I decide to make I-94 my primary road for the day, cutting off about 8 miles of projected headwind pedaling.  My theory is that the grades on the interstate will be smoother and that I may get some minuscule windbreak with the traffic.  I had already been on the interstate and knew they had wide, smooth shoulders. My primary concern with the interstate is that I had word that the rumble strips cross the full-length of the shoulder, as well as the trouble of dealing with the exits.  Regardless, I decided to give it a try and if it was not good, there was an exit 5 miles up that I could take and get on the byway.  The rumble strips turn out to be a non-issue. The shoulder is about 8 ft wide, the rumble strips are cut about four feet wide in the center of the lane.  Leaving about two feet on each side.  I choose the outer edge, of course, and that is plenty of room. The main issues is just avoiding the road debris of the radial tires, broken straps, and the occasional hand tool that has flown off the trucks.  I may be sacrificing some view today, but I think it is minimal and worth the reduction in miles.  The exit ramps are more problematic, simply from their basic form. Having been on the interstate earlier back in Washington, I know what to expect, but it does not make it easier.   I have to cross the exit to stay in my shoulder lane.  In short, the maneuver means you are crossing into traffic at pedestrian pace when others are doing 70mph.   Making things worse, most people don't use their blinkers, so you are not sure what they are doing, until they do it.  So my strategy is to pedal as far down the exit ramp as possible, constantly checking over my shoulder for traffic.   When I feel safe, I dart across the lane.  "Nervy" for sure, but It is really not that bad, since I could stop if the traffic is heavy, or just continue up the exit, if I must.  The "on" ramps are much easier.  The angle you must turn and check traffic is easier, and all cars you see are coming down the ramp.  As it turns out, this was not a major issue either, since the exits were lightly travelled and were few and far between. 

The views continue to be picturesque, more of the softer rolling terrain. The agricultural options of the fields have increased as well to include thousands of acres of corn, sunflowers and beans.  These support the primary crops of grains and grass that reign supreme.  The mixture of colors and shades gives a pleasant view for all who pass by, to say nothing of the brilliance the vibrant yellow sunflower casts on the landscape.  

Today I find my head down more often than on previous rides, perhaps a natural reaction to try to become more aerodynamic, or perhaps I just don't like the wind in my face.   It may also have to do with the concentration I keep on the road to avoid the rumble strips and road hazards.  It strikes me that I may be missing more of my surroundings than I intended, but I set out this plan and decide to stick with it.  

I stop earlier at one of the best stocked convenience stores that I have seen. It is a mile off the road, and my prediction based on the map, is this may be my only chance for services. There are several towns with services along the way, but they are several miles off the interstate (but on the original route). To get to them would cost me more than the mileage I want to save. So I overstock on water and "fuel" for the day. The prediction turns out to be right, there is nothing close the road for the entire ride.  

About one mile short of where I plan to break for lunch, I hear the schwick, schwick, schwick sound of something in my wheel or tire.  I pull over to find that I pick up one of those radial wires from the tire debris.  I pull the wire and note its depth and realize that it will be a problem.  I pedal on, since it was not an instant flat. However, within a mile, the tire is getting low. I replace the tube and thankfully took the time to check the inside of the complete tire, to discover that I had actually broken off the radial and a small spur of wire remained.  Had it not been found, I would have ended up using my last spare, as I would have surely had another flat within a few miles.  

After my roadside repair, I had lunch with protein bar and water, saddled back up and headed to New Salem.  

The last five miles of the route was back on the byways and a slow ride in between the crops.  Much nicer.  After I settle into the hotel, I get weather updates and it appears it will not rain tonight, but I will have the advantage of further headwinds tomorrow.

Oh well, we will see what tomorrow brings.  

The highway strategy turned out to be hazardous, so I plan to take the byways tomorrow. 

Day 19. Entering North Dakota

15 was big yesterday, but 80 is much more important today.  

Today, August 3rd, is my Mother's birthday.  She is 80 years old today.  Her and my Dad just celebrated their 60 wedding anniversary back in June, by staying in a tree house in Hawaii.  Don't let her grandmotherly crocheting fool you.  Just a few years early on a similar trip, her and my dad were zip-lining.  On one section, mom pulls off a perfect inverted "T", by zip lining upside down with toes pointed high in the air and arms out stretched.  In her 70's. Yep, that is my mom. Although she has always had a sense of adventure and travel, she was a bit anxious her middle-aged son decided to ride his bike across the country.  So far, so good.  Happy Birthday mom.  I stopped to pick you some flowers......

Leaving the comforts of Wibaux this morning (neat little town to visit), I jumped up on I-94 for a bit. About 8 miles later, I am in North Dakota. I am glad to be making that progress.  It feels different, almost immediately. I know it should not, because not much really changes. It does not feel better or worse, just different. Perhaps it is simply the road.  It does indeed smooth out, as they do not appear to use the chip seal on the surface.  It is smooth asphalt. That is a big deal (I have my opinions on chip seal, but will save for later).  

Not long after entering ND, I jump onto Old 10 Highway.  About 11 miles down the road is Sentinel Butte, where there is a small convenience store where I stop for a snack.  I enter, and am immediately welcomed. Rick, the owner offers me coffee and a spot at the table that he is sharing with Pete. We talk a bit about a variety of things, including my journey. Then I spot a pastry in Tupperware plate. He tells me to get one and to spread on top some of that white icing from the green Tupperware bowl next to it. He then tells me he usually has maple icing, but only had the white today. Ugh. I did not need to hear that, my family knows I love the Maple Pecan rings at Publix, when they don't skimp on the maple icing. I love maple icing. Regardless, I use the white icing and must say it was delicious. I can only imagine what the maple must be like.  Pete tells me that Rick's father used to run the store and the local post office as well.  There were many times when he would leave the store, which has gas pumps, un-attended and people would just come by and pump what they needed and leave a check for him when he returned.  Once a local paper ran a story on it, the AP wire picked it up and the next thing you know Oprah flew them out to her show. She asked them who was manning the store while they were gone, and they said "No one".  Even today, the local folks have a key to the gas pumps and can come by and get what the need when they need it. Cool place. 

The next stop was Medora, ND for lunch. This clearly was a summer tourist destination, which I have not seen for weeks.  The streets and decor is that of a bustling old west town. Oddly, it almost has a Disney feel to it. It is a neat town even without shows and restaurants and highlights the Cowboy Hall of Fame.  

It is a bit of a climb out of there back to the main route and I come hard upon the badlands in Theodore Roosevelt National Park. I stop at the rest area in the National Park for a few photos of the beatific, but intimidating painted canyon. The variations of colors in the canyons is certainly picturesque.  

The route takes me back to Old 10 Highway and shortly the return of the rolling grass fields and buttes. For the past few weeks, I have been watching Hawks and other birds of prey fly and hover over the wheat and hay fields. All the time I am hoping to see them swoop in for the kill, as it were. About twenty miles from Dickinson, I am pedaling along and then hear the familiar squealing "kee-yer" of a hawk. I cram my neck to spot it and don't immediately see it, to no avail. It must be behind me. Then a sudden swoosh just above my head startles me. The bird was certainly close to me. I stop the bike in hopes of seeing it diving for its prey. As I turn my head, I see the most amazing (and terrifying) thing. With its wings pulled in hard at its side, I see the small brown spot quickly getting larger until both of its eyes are deadlocked onto mine. It's bent beak and talons diving directly at my head like a missile, only to pull up at the last second, strafing my helmet with what sounded like a thunderous whoosh. I kid you not. Nine times this bird makes a bombing run at me.  Every time that I would start to cycle, he would be off in the distance, and before I knew it WOOSH, there he was again.  I pulled out my GOPRO, which I have not been using, to try to record this.  While I held it in my hand, I get a good shot of it, but he pulls up quickly in the videos as I am raising my hand to capture the shot.  I then put it on my helmet and it was a great dive by him, but I completely blew it as I has somehow changed it to photo and not movie.  I did get one decent shot at it, but it does not tell the story.  By now, however, I am at my wits end.  I am not sure how to get out of here without this bird taking my helmet off me.  Eventually, I do pedal slowly over a hill and he finally leaves me alone.  He was obviously protecting something, and was glad for me to leave.


I was glad to accommodate him.

After that, I am ready to rest in Dickinson, ND.  Which is what I do.

Day 18. Circle to Wibaux, MT

How big is the number 15?  When you measure it in degrees of temperature, it is massive.  

I did find my shade tree last night. I cycled into the Horse Creek RV park and saw a line of half a dozen RVs behind a building that was a laundromat.  I called Jim, the owner, and he told me he does not have an office, but he was in his RV, trying to keep out of the heat.  He told me that he would suggest that I pitch my tent next to the sign by the road.  It was in a corner of 4 scrubby trees that formed and "L" shape, but to his point, would be the best spot to try to grab some shade and have a bit of a wind break.  So, I followed his suggestion. He said he would be around in a bit, and that the charge for the night was 10 bucks.  

I set up my tent, but with the temperatures still edging up to 100, I decided to cycle the few blocks into to town to find a place with AC and some dinner.  After a burger and a few hours at the Round Towne where I apparently napped at my table, I went back to my tent and propped up my bed mat to relax further.  Must admit, the heat saps your energy and starts to tap into your will.  Nevertheless, the sun does finally set and the temps gratefully plummet.  With the cooling breezes and a call with my family, my spirits lift. I enjoy a restful night of sleep in my little corner of trees. With the sole exception of a cat who decided to attack my tent in the middle of the night.  I am not sure what that was all about, but a cat pounced from the tree to the top of my tent and then scurried off under a trailer.   My reaction was as if I was being attacked by a Lion, with a thrashing of my sleeping back and tent zipper to attempt to escape my fate.    When I saw the cat racing away, I was reminded why I like dogs.  

I awake at about 5:30 to a sunrise over the corner of a nearby house. I clean up a bit and pack my gear to head to the convenience store, about a block away.  

The store has a breakfast for $4 that includes eggs, bacon, and a biscuit. I get there just after 6, and it is not quite heated up properly, so I have to microwave my choices to make them edible. Digestively, I think I would have been better off eating my oatmeal at the campsite.  

While I was pondering the day, taking alternate sips of black coffee and chocolate milk, I met my first Eastbound cyclist of the trip. The Antrims: Josh, Ellen, and their daughter Lydia, are from just north of Boston and are aiming to be home by the end of the month.  They have been on the Northern Tier since about the 11th of July. It is good for the soul to sometimes commiserate over both the joys and difficulties of a trip like this. We spent a lot of time "commiserating" over the heat of the day before.  

I leave them as they are "nuking" their breakfast, so I set off in earnest about 6:45 or so for Wibaux, MT.  Leaving Circle, the first part of the route is about an 18 mile steady climb, followed by a long, gradual descent into Glendive, MT, where I plan to have lunch.   The landscape softens as I travel east with the terrain starting to smooth out as the sagebrush and rougher terrain give way to more rolling fields of grass and hay.  The fat Angus still break up the vistas with clusters of black dots. Trees are still rare, for the most part. 

Before the ride, I had some anxious thoughts about cycling by myself in the Middle of America, with nothing around me but miles. Truth is that I have come love the breaks where there is "nothing" around.  On the map today, the route takes me down I-94, so I will be off the byways and on the highways.  With that in mind, I take special care to enjoy the early breaks today.  Silently letting the sights and sounds wash over me. Fact is, I relish cycling by myself in the Middle of America.  

The wind shifts today, and is ENE early. So that creates some crosswinds and headwinds.  Fortunately, it is offset by the long descent to Glendive.  I find a recommended Mexican restaurant "Mexico Lindo" for lunch.  Just what the doctor ordered.  I enjoy a burrito Lindo and it is muy grande and muy delicioso. 

As I am leaving, putting my gear together and applying my afternoon coat of SPF 30, I hear someone call "Boyd". Startled, I turn to see Josh and his family.  They have just arrived and are looking for lunch. We conferred that today was a much better riding day and I confirmed that the Mexican food is very good. (Several hours later in Wibaux, I feel a tap on the shoulder: it is Josh, they have arrived.  We are again eating at the same establishments. Not that there are a great many options, truth be told.   My guess is we will see a lot of each other the next few days.  Either way, I wish them fair winds and safe travels to Boston.)

After lunch, I head to Wibaux.  It is a slow 20 mile climb followed by a 5 mile descent into my resting spot for the night. As I climb out of town, there is a short section where the striated, multi-shaded cliffs are close to the road.  They seem to me to be in stark contrast to the land before and after.  However, the landscape of Montana has been surprising for much of the 10 days I have been here. Quickly, though, they recede back to the smoother rolling grass and hay fields seen earlier in the ride.  

The wind shifts out of the north, which creates a helping tailwind as the route is now primarily south.   The stints of time I have to take on I-94 is easy enough as the highway has incredibly wide shoulders and obviously double lanes, enough for everyone to adequately and safely maneuver.  As I am able to jump off to the frontage roads, I am given a small treat that I would typically take for granted. Trees by the road. I take a break under a strand of cottonwood trees and am tempted to nap, as the winds through their spade-shaped leaves creates the sounds of soft rain, at least to my ear.  I do not, however, as I am eager to get to my destination. With the supporting wind, the final climb is accomplished without concern.  

I am staying in a hotel tonight and will take a proper shower, which is a couple days past due.  Many thanks are uttered by me and those that come in contact.  After a couple of days washing in a sink, and with a combination, Bio-Freeze, Skinners medicated vapor, chamois cream and sunscreen, I had been a potpourri of fine fragrances.  

So how big is 15? Yesterday the temperatures were 100 and the ride was taxing, to say the least. I cannot drink enough water to stay hydrated and feel fresh on these days with such high heat, it appears. The people in Circle said it was their hottest day of the year. I cannot confirm that, but I can confirm it was exhausting.  Today the highs were mid-80's, fifteen degrees cooler and the ride was magnificent. The Strava app I use to track my miles and effort, said today was harder than yesterday. The computer does not consider the heat.  It makes all the difference in the world.  I feel much better today than yesterday. 15 is huge.  

The winds will not be favorable tomorrow, but then temperatures should be. That matters. 

Tonight is the last night in Montana. This is 11th night in this State. Montana has been good to me, overall, but it is time to move on. North Dakota, here I come. 

Day 17. Jordan, MT to Circle, MT

By the time I packed everything up, it was 6:30am when I left Jordan, MT.  Frankly, I was ready to depart and move on. The people in town weren't very friendly, quite a contrast to what I had previously experienced.  Whether it was the cafe where I ate and enjoyed some pie and ice cream, or the grocery where I picked up some water and fruit, or the unsuccessful attempts to use their laundry mat, I seemed to be annoying people. It was Friday, and I thought people would be in a good mood, but they seemed to be in a less than pleasant state of mind.  Perhaps it was the weather, it is certainly hot.   Perhaps it was simply the aforementioned need for me to wash my offensive clothes. Regardless, it was time to move on. 

With the dry, arid climate, the temperature here changes dramatically.  I left with temps in the high 50's, wearing arm warmers for the first several hours. It warmed up quickly though, with the heat rising to 90's in the afternoon.  

The route included many rollers today.  Rollers can be fun and the most enjoyable of rides as you gain speed during the decline, maintain the speed up the hill and power over the top of the hill, catching acceleration on the downhill again. These, however,  were not those rollers.  Perhaps I was not in the mood, or perhaps I did not have the strength.  Regardless, they were reasonably enjoyable in morning with some work up hill for a bit, followed by the relief of coasting downhill , in short intervals.  

The landscape was much like the previous days during the first part of the ride, with the views dominated by rolling terrain, harsh shrubs, buttes and domes. Black and red angus were the primary residents of this area. At about the 20 mile mark, into a bit harder climbs, much of the nearby land was cliffs and colorful striated small canyons that had been carved many years ago. They were striking.   As I cycled further, the sheep population grew.  At one of my break stops by the Big Dry Creek, I enjoyed watching and hearing the bleating cries and interactions of the ewes and their lambs.   Some of the lambs were quite whiny children, to the point of annoyance.   

There were no towns or service areas between Jordan and Circle, so I had packed extra water and food for the trip, with a plan to stop often along the way.  My favorite part of the breaks is the absolute quiet.  Then you realize it is not quiet, with the wind rustling the grass, the chirps and calls of the birds, the chatter of some insects and perhaps a distant bellow of a cow. It is not so silent, but the air is certainly filled with the sounds of silence.   Peaceful. Solitude.

My favorite stop occurred early in the ride, when I was scanning the horizons with my Bushnells. I spotted a fox stalking through the fields, a grazing herd of antelope who had spotted me before I spotted them, along with a pair of falcons perched high on the telephone poles. 

The road today was rough, with the expansion cracks much deeper, jarring with bicycle with a "ka-thunk" every few yards or so. Some of them rattled my teeth. After about 50 miles of that, it starts to get under your skin, in more than one way. Enough complaining though, because the end of the ride smoothed out and the winds picked up at my back and shuttled me into Circle, MT

This, like many of miles before, is hard-living area.  The historical signs I read as I entered the city said as much. It is hard work making a living in this area, but many have been successful.  The population in the McCone county works out to about 1 person for every 1 1/2 sq miles, with cows out-numbering people about 20-1.  That pretty well describes the area.  

Tonight I am camping an RV park, where I hope to find a shade tree.  Tomorrow is through Glendive (where I plan to have lunch) before ending up in Wibaux, MT.