Day 28 Battle Lake to Long Prairie

Day 27 (30 Aug 09) Fargo, ND to Battle Lake, MN100 miles

46 degrees F and leaving Fargo, ND. Last night at the HoDo Restaurant our waitress, who is from Brentwood, CA, tells us of winter customers who leave their cars running while dining at the HoDo. Running because it gets down to -25F. She said she stays indoors during the winter and can’t wait to get back to CA.

People leave their cars running even while they fill up on gas to keep the car warm. 46 F is a warm summer morning for Fargo. We are wearing our jackets, but the locals appear in shorts and tee-shirts or no shirt at all.

Downtown is surrounded by railroad tracks on 2 sides, the Red River of the North on the east side and endless shopping malls on the west side. Early Sunday morning we ride past the malls. As soon as we turn east and cross the river we are into MN farm land. Rich black dirt and ground fog are all around us.

As we climb out of the Red River Valley it is obvious that we have left the prairie. A dramatic shift to rolling hills, endless lakes, hardwood trees, and green, green everywhere. Frogs are the road kill of the day. More corn and soybeans.

This must be the place where the long green lawn was invented. It appears that everyone got the memo to have a neat lawn carefully mowed. Neat as a pin farm houses along the way. Signs don’t tell us about the next town, but point us to the next Lutheran Church.

We do a bit of climbing and fighting the wind and feel the 100 miles in our legs.

Battle Lake is a small resort town with limited lodging (we picked the lesser of the two - with no reviews how would we know) a small grocery store and several restaurants including Stella’s where we ate. Stella’s does a booming business during the summer and is closed all of January and February. All of the staff are interested in our bike trip and quite surprised when we tell them we rode from Fargo that day. Guess the day off in Fargo didn’t help - probably would have felt better if we’d done the ride on Saturday without “benefit” of rest. On the other hand, Fargo was fun and worth the brief time we spent there.

Day 28 (31 Aug 09) Battle Lake to Long Prairie 64 miles

We awoke to another flat tire, this time on Jim’s bike. Among the things in our various packages received at the Radisson in Fargo was a Slime tube in Jim’s tire size. For those of you who don’t know, Slime is a product that can be put inside a bicycle tire tube and is said to instantly seal any hole up to one eighth inch in diameter. You can buy tires pre-Slimed or add the Slime yourself. Hopefully, the next bike shop will carry Slime in the form that allows you to add it to a non-Slimed tube. We’re both tired of mucking with tires and tubes.

We got a bit of a late start out of Battle Lake and began the ride with a moderate (8 - 15 mph) south wind. Unfortunately, we went south almost as much as east, not unlike the previous day. Wind breaks help but the terrain is a mixture of open farmland and small hills; a lot of up and down (it always seems like more of the trip is up) and when open, subject to unfavorable wind. Once again we cross the Hudson Bay/Mississippi River divide.

The high point of the ride is Inspiration Peak, a 1600 foot mound topped by hardwood trees. Not sure how inspiring it is, but things like this are relative. We pass lots of small farms, but the scenery is not as reminiscent of the Sierra Foothills in spring as yesterday. We stop in Parker’s Prairie for late morning snack/lunch and chat with the ladies at the check out stand in Sammy’s Store and gas station. They wish us well and we ride on to Long Prairie. Shortly out of Parker’s Prairie, a farmer driving a tractor pulling a wagon passes us. He’s going a little faster than we are so we decide to do a little drafting. He pulls us 6 miles at 18 - 19 mph, a great boost, we head south the entire time we are behind him and avoid some of the worst of the wind. Posted on the back of the wagon is a weathered bumper sticker reading “Have you hugged your hog today?” The sticker is from the Iowa Hog Shed Restaurant.

It is a relatively short day, but we need the rest after yesterday’s challenging 100 mile ride. In Long Prairie we have time to do laundry, a little grocery shopping and blog catch-up.

Days 25 & 26 Grand Forks to Fargo

Days 25 and 26 (28 & 29 Aug 09) Grand Forks, ND to Fargo, ND 85 miles

We cross the Red River of the North, which flows into Canada, and enter East Grand Forks, MN - not quite good-bye to North Dakota. It is a gray day with a north wind pushing us south.

Along the way in Montana and North Dokata, we have been stopping in CenEx gas stations. In the Climax CenEx there are 3 farmers sitting at one of the tables playing cards for quarters. We ask the oldest (80 years old) why he’s not out working the fields instead of wasting time and playing cards for quarters. The old guy with the ”Beta Seeds” baseball hat does not skip a beat. He keeps playing the card game while bantering with us about riding bikes. We tell him we don’t like ND because of the wind but MN is much better for us. He tells us about how his daughter, now living in Florida, observed that Montana “blows” and North Dakota “suck,” all with a straight face. In the meantime, he keeps getting good cards and to the disappointment of his card mates he wins the pot of quarters.

Along the way, a golden retriever greets us coming out of the soybean fields. This is flat, river bottom land with rich soil where farmers grow wheat, soybeans and sugar beets. The towns of about 100 pop are about 10 miles apart. We are worried that the retriever will follow us too far and we throw him a banana peel to try to distract him while we take off on our bikes. He grabs it and runs along side us at 18 to 20 mph. Eventually, he drops the peel when he has to hang out his tongue and switches to running on the grass instead of the gravel shoulder. He gives up in just under a ½ mile, but when he was next to us it was great to see him just fly; amazing what a young dog can do. (His photo is attached.)

This is the land of neat-as-a-pin farms and Lutheran Churches. Moorhead houses the world wide headquarters of the Old Lutheran Church and the Center for Lutheran Pride (but “not too proud;” you‘ve got to love the sign - see photo).

After reaching Climax earlier in the day, we came to Moorhead before entering Fargo (we thought we were in the Pennsylvania Dutch country). Leave no opportunity unexploited.

In Moorhead we cross the river and return to North Dakota where we will take a day off from riding, repair the bikes, and view the local sites.

We stay at the Radisson downtown with “sleep number beds” and nearby fine Italian food. What a change from the hammock-like beds in Rockport, WA and the cardboard pizza in the roughneck smokey bar in Stanley, MT. It may be hard to get back on the bikes on Sunday morning when all good Lutheran‘s should be in church contemplating the farmer‘s credo: “sow your wild oats on Saturday night and pray for crop failure on Sunday morning.”

On Saturday in Fargo we find all the things we need: a great bike shop where Len replaces his worn chain, Jim finds a great pair of Specialized biking tights for those cold New England fall mornings to come and both enjoy gelato - yes, gelato in a bike shop! We make a stop at Happy Harry’s for a bottle of Seghesio Barbera and find Boppa’s Bagel shop serving the best bagels west of NYC. It’s amazing what you can do on a bicycle when you open your mind to the possibilities.

We wrap up the day with a walk across the Red River of the North to Minnesota to visit the Historical & Cultural Society of Clay County featuring the Hjemkomst (Yom-comst) Viking Ship (an incredible 79 foot replica of a 12^th century Viking ship conceived and built by Robert Asp in 1980, a Moorhead school guidance counselor, that sailed to Norway in 1982 - see all the photos in the web album) and the Hopperstad Stave Church Replica. The church is a to scale replica of a church in Vig, Norway. We took the guided tour presented by a very knowledgeable docent and accompanied by a most well behaved miniature poodle and his masters. A great day indeed!

Days 23 and 24 Rugby to Devils Lake to Grand Forks

Day 23 (25 Aug 09) Rugby to Devils Lake 58 Miles

No new photos for either days 23 or 24.

Wally’s ride (see recent post for definition) has begun in earnest! Due to forecasted wind directions and intensity and the absence of anything but tiny towns with limited choice of lodging, we’ve decided to abandon the recommended Adventure Cycling route and stick to US 2, our riding companion for all of our trip through Montana and North Dakota (about 1100 miles!). The road surface is generally excellent, there is little traffic and the North Dakota drivers are incredibly courteous, almost always pulling into the outer lane whether we’re on the shoulder to the right of the fog line or on the pavement when rumble strip or lack of sufficient shoulder require that we ride on the pavement. In 350 miles I cannot recall a single time when someone honked at us except as a friendly gesture! The sides of the road are incredibly clean, even the cities lack trash on the streets. When we were in Minot we observed a young woman spontaneously pick up a discarded Pepsi cup on the sidewalk and put it in a trash can. Hard winters must change people. I wouldn’t want to live here, but the people have earned my respect.

It was a long day on the bike again (over 5 hours). Scenery was relatively invariant although we are beginning to see a lot more small lakes surrounded by cat tails and occupied by ducks and a few herons (Great Blue and Green spotted). It was a combination of head and side wind. We’re trying to come up with different names for the various winds we experience (like the 100+ Eskimo words for snow). No good ideas yet. If you have any let us know.

Devils Lake, ND had a lot more to offer than Rugby. After cleaning up at the very nice Fireside Inn and starting a load of laundry, we crossed US 2 to Wally’s Supermarket which provided sustenance for the next day’s ride. We were both famished and went looking for a place called Kneadful Things (baked on site bread and other goodies). Len gave up but with his trusty (sort of) Blackberry GPS, Jim persisted and eventually found Kneadful Things, for he was truly needful (of food; riding a bicycle for long distances is hard work). He scored a Black Forest tort which turned out to be really good. Despite an inclination gobble the whole thing, he resisted and saved half for Len, who was half asleep reading in the room.

Since we generally elect to walk to dinner rather than ride our bikes, our choices are limited. This time the Pizza Ranch which served, guess what, Pizza and fried chicken. A decent salad bar, ok chili and a lot of that blue-colored Power Aide along with pizza and chicken rounded out the dinner.

Day 24 (26 Aug 09) Devils Lake to Grand Forks, ND 90 miles

Our intended destination is Cooperstown, but they have only a smoking room. We book the room, but are a bit ambivalent. We check the weather more than the local farmers. Jim’s Blackberry tells of south to southwest wind. Cancel Cooperstown and continue the off route Wally ride.

Our destination is 90 miles away and get a 7:00AM start. Cloudy, gray sky promises rain. The storm front is diagonal to us. We get some sprinkles, but decide not to put on rain gear and try to out run the front.

We are headed to the Valley of the Red River of the North which is the dividing line between the arid plains and the humid east. It feels more humid, but that could be because of the threat of rain and the many small lakes we pass. This is no longer the flat, broad plains, but rolling hills carved by the glacier.

More lakes, more ducks, more corn, less wheat and we pedal. We stop for short breaks, maybe because we are concerned of a strong headwind coming up and making the 90 miles a brutal thrashing. There were a few shifts, but not much of a headwind. The 90 miles seems easier than the 60 into the wind and it is. We get a favorable almost tail wind and breeze into Grand Forks at 20 mph.

What happened to vegetables? Its been fried chicken for me (Leonard) for 2 days straight. All these farms and this black dirt there must be some vegetables. We are in Grand Forks, ND and to paraphrase Sarah Palin, “We can see Minnesota from our front porch!” And that’s where we’re going tomorrow; a due south ride with a predicted north wind and a return to North Dakota, Fargo at the end of the day followed by a day of no riding. Off to the Texas Roadhouse for, what else, steak and a few vegetables for the effete West Coast guys.

Post Script about the wind:

Sign 25 miles outside of Grand Forks:

“Grand Forks CountyWorld’s Largest Concentration

Of Tree Wind Barriers”

　

　

　

Days 17 to 22 Malta. MT to Rugby, ND

Days 17 to 22 Malta to Glasgow to Culbertson to Williston, ND to Stanley to Minot to Rugby 424 Miles

Because of the length of this post, we have not included any photos with the post. Please go to the appropriates days in the full photo album.

Across the great grass river, the northern great plains. What an incredible expanse. Riding across on a bicycle is the only mechanized mode of travel that allows you to understand the enormity of this place. There is beauty here, but understanding it requires a different perspective, similar to what is required to see the beauty in the high desert, basin and range land of Nevada or more starkly, the open ocean with no land in sight.

Credit for the following entries belongs largely to Len who has been keeping a daily written journal of our travels. Without his journal it would have been far more difficult to retrospectively capture the spontaneity of our experiences.

Day 17 (20 Aug 09)

The mystery of so many body shops and windshield shops is solved! These little towns may not have a bank, motel or restaurant, but they will have 2 body shops. Why? Hot, too much traffic in this prairie/slag terrain and people drive fast!

At the Raiders Quick Stop in Hinsdale, MT we see a bumper on a pickup truck (duelly) as big as a cow catcher on a train. The licence announces: “FURHNTR.” I ask the propane delivery man about it. He says the bumper save at least $1000 in car damage if you hit any kind of wildlife going 100 mph (or 30 for that matter, thinks Jim) on these roads. He then says he hit a grouse that did $1500 damage to his car by penetrating the plastic grill and entering the engine compartment. Montana SUV’s and trucks are “up-armored” in the after market.

He also tells us that the owner of the truck must be a licensed coyote because of the horn on the bumper. It makes a sound like a crying rabbit to lure a coyote. 300 are killed in one hunt and the next year it’s the same. Yet, the coyote population does not seem to be affected. The hunters are licensed by the state. Wolves are the coyote’s only preditor but the wolves don’t pass through much.

We push against a north wind and the day is slow (it takes us over 5 hours to go 72 miles; little did we know what the future would bring). When we ride on an east heading of 97 degrees, the wind comes from the side and slows us down; a slight turn to 111 degrees and our speed increased 5 mph. Wheat, corn, prairie and dead rattle snakes mark the day.

Jim began the day with a flat tire discovered as he wheeled the bike out of the room. He couldn’t find the hole in the tube so he pumped up the tire and we moved on. It held for 40 miles. He pumped it up several more times and each time it deflated more quickly. We made it to the Cottonwood Inn where the project of finding the holes in the tubes and their cause began. We find that the “bike shop” reputed to be in Glasgow is in fact a retired State Farm insurance agent by the name of Ron Guttenberg. Ron is now 75 and appears very fit when he arrives at our hotel room door with a new tire and tubes for Jim. After talking to Ron, we decide that another tire and a couple of patch kits are needed as well. A little while later Ron returns with the needed items and a floor pump that he leaves with us to be returned via the front desk of the hotel in the morning. Ron runs his on call bike shop as a hobby because he likes to helps bike travelers like us and because the nearest bike shop is in Minot ND, nearly 400 miles away. What incredible service!

Day 18 (21 Aug 09)

Covered with yesterday’s mosquito bites, we try for an early start (we‘ve decided to ride 103 miles because there are no decent places to stay in Poplar, our original stopping point. Foolishly I (Jim) decide to add a little more air to my newly restored tires, it was only a few pounds I think to myself. No problem with the front tire; now for the rear. The floor pump won’t connect with the valve stem properly. No problem, I think, I’ll just use the hand pump. The bike falls over while I’m pumping, inducing a small tear at the base of the stem. Scotty’s bridge (Startrek reference to photo of Jim’s navigation equipment photo from a previous day) breaks as well. So much for the early start and the comfort of having a couple of new tubes for the inevitable flats of the future.

We struggle against the wind all day. There is no escape. We try trading leading and following a mile at a time for 45 miles, finally reaching Wolf Point and never going faster than about 12 mph. We feel like dead meat and still have 58 miles to go. We put our heads down and go at our own pace.

When we reach Poplar, we discover that Lee Ann’s Hotel (the place we were thinking about staying) is closed. The convenience store run by the Fort Peck Tribe has thick cross-hatched wire over the windows. A succession of trashed cars pull up for single beers, a pack of cigarettes and a bag of chips. Nightmare in Clunkerville.

We talk to three Indian boys on BMX bicycles. They marvel at our bikes and seem unable to wrap their minds around the idea that we’re riding to Maine. The youngest, hasn’t even heard of Maine. We talk for awhile, tell them about our adventures, about where Maine is and we say goodbye.

At 80 miles we encounter steep hills. The wind dies a bit in the hills, but the uphill grade is just as tiring. Some of the hills seem to go on forever. You see what you think is the top and when you get there, there’s another hill. Culbertson seems to be the phantom of someone’s imagination. We think we should be able to see the town in the distance and cannot. The sun is getting low in the sky and our shadows on the road lengthen. Where is Culbertson? We arrive to find the Diamond Willow Inn has a sign announcing that it is the Elk Horn Inn. Part of the place looks like a double-wide! Have we entered the Twilight Zone? We expect Rod Sterling when we enter the office, but Kim is there and she provides us with two fans for our room because the windows are painted shut. We eat at the pizza place across the street and enjoy the chatter and comings and goings of local high school students.

About 5 miles before reaching Culbertson we see a sign announcing the Rolling Hills Winery (sounds like something we could enjoy after 103 hard miles on the road). The winery includes a car wash and a bathroom. Jim decides it looks like a good business prospect and Len takes a picture of him in front of the place the next morning. Only the car wash seems to be operational.

Day 19 (22 Aug 09) 44 miles. Culbertson, MT - Williston, ND

We leave the Diamond Willow in with its boarded up window late because of a short day ahead. Diamond Willow is also called Elk Horn Inn and is across from Me Too Pizza the local teenager hang out. When Me Too Pizza closed the town got very quiet.

The hostess of Diamond Willow reminds us of 13 miles of dirt road ahead. (The hostess was from Las Vegas and lost her airport shuttle bus driver job. She has not yet faced a Montana winter. We wish her luck.)

We are now on a toot-and-wave basis with the BNSF train engineers. Maybe they have seen us before. Then 13 miles of dirt road dodging water truck, pedaling in mud/sand and we cross into North Dakota and central time zone. The road turns to silk.

This is wheat and oil country of 600,000 people. Grass hoppers jump all around us and on us.

Williston is hot. Jim has another flat and discovers a broken spoke as we limp into the El Rancho Motel.

The El Rancho is where the Williston Oil Club meets. The restaurant is decorated with photos of oil wells and settling ponds.

We call Chris Robinson of Robinson Wheel Works in California (what would we do without a cell phone) and he advises that Jim can use a 31 spoke wheel and instructs us to loosen the 2 spokes next to the broken spoke and tighten the next 2 lateral spokes. The next bike shop is 132 miles away. We resolve to get an early start because we have 71 miles, possible wind and hot day ahead.

And so begins Wally’s ride. There are only a few cognoscenti who would recognize the full meaning of the reference to Wally’s ride. For those not so imbued, Wally is my (Jim) cousin Suzie’s husband and the proximate cause of Jim and Len’s meeting on Cycle Oregon IV in 1991. Wally knows Len’s wife’s brother in law. Back to Wally’s ride. By definition, a shorter, usually less arduous route to the day’s destination. In this case, Minot, two days away. The Adventure Cycling route would have taken us on rural roads, perhaps less traveled than US 2, but almost certainly not as well maintained and 25 miles longer than the route we chose.

Day 20 (23 Aug 09) Williston, ND-Stanley, 71 miles. 8 ½ hours of pedaling

No early start. Leonard has a rear flat tire. We go north 12 miles and the wind is from the east. We turn east and the wind is blowing directly at us. The guess is constant at 15 to 20 and gusting to 30 mph and it is relentless. Why guess 30 mph? Our bikes with gear, racks and riders weigh over 200 pounds and the wind blows us sideways and slows us down to 3-4 mph with full effort.

This is like climbing a steep road up a mountain for 60 miles. The senior breakfast at the El Rancho is long ago. We make it to Ray, ND and its truck stop. We’ve traveled 33 miles and our ears are ringing from the constant hard wind. The wind is supposed to be (that’s under normal circumstances) from the southwest and pushing us. This is a direct east head wind.

Going down hill Leonard notices a rock stuck to his front tire. He tries to knock it off while riding, but it will not come off. He stops and sees it is the tube sticking out of the tire side wall. Then the blow out. (Good thing the blow out occurred now and not on the downhill. The last time Leonard had a blow out on a downhill it was second degree burns and 3 months out of work.)

Jim stops and gives Leonard the pump and tire irons. Suddenly, Jim is mobbed by bees. They swarm him and he tries to get away. He can’t discourage them and Jim has to escape. Leonard concentrates on a tire and tube change. Now that Jim is gone the bees crawl on his lips, eyelids, arms and under his helmet. But strangely, they do not sting! This makes for a quick tire and tube change. So quick that Leonard leaves the tire and tube on the road, grabs the tools, does not full fill the tire with air and tries to escape downhill. How can the bees fly in such wind? When will they stop following me? When they do, Leonard stops regroups to think what he may have left on the ground up the hill. Got everything, but the tire and tube and not going back to the swarm.

Down the hill more air in the tire, the stem breaks. Will we make Stanley in the wind? When we finally reach Stanley after 8 and one half hours on the bikes, we see something called “Motel“, but we are staying in the Prairie Host Motel (also, strangely, known as the Painted Horse Inn). We pedal into Stanley. Nothing is open, no people, It is like a nuclear winter hit this town. Leonard calls the Painted Horse and the hostess can’t give us directions. She is just from Missouri and works the front desk. Turns out the Motel is the Painted Horse Inn.

Smoke permeates the Inn and the only place to eat is the Painted Pony Bar filled with roughnecks. Drunk roughnecks. We get some cardboard pizza some second hand smoke and drunk advice from the roughnecks, one of whom is a truck driver who gives a lesson in the varying state laws regarding axel weight allowances. We finish our pizza and head for bed.

Day 21 (24 Aug 09) Stanley-Minot; 55 miles.

Next morning is humid. Initially the air seems clear, but within a few minutes after sunrise, the fog and mist set in. It’s like a spooky Boris Karloff movie. The mist hangs on our hair, and soaks our riding glasses. We have crossed from the arid west into a more humid zone. Breakfast at the trucker stop up the road from our Motel. Offerings include donuts, smokey joes, hot dogs, chips, Farmers Coffee, motor oil, chains. We talk to a couple of sober rough necks (seemingly a more sophisticated group than those encountered at the Painted Pony). They are local people who know the normal weather patterns and they can’t believe the summer they’ve been having - totally atypical, especially the previous day’s east wind! We don’t feel so bad.

It’s a bit cold outside, but we got to get to Minot where we hear of a good bike shop and maybe good coffee. On the ride we can smell the wheat and wild flowers after the rain/mist ends. We see ducks, herons, small lakes. We see spring wheat planted in the spring and harvested in August. Less gluten than winter wheat which is planted in the fall, sprouts and goes dormant during the snow season and grows in the spring. Spring wheat, we learn the next day, brings a better price for the farmer.

Val’s Cyclery in Minot is a gem. New spoke installed on Jim‘s bike, new tubes, new tire on Leonard’s and we are ready to role. Roy at Val’s is great, and understands bikes. He tells us of the hard core Minot riders who use studded tires in the -25F winter riding in Minot. If there is a breakdown the rider could freeze to death. He told us that the riders have the layering down to a science and one guy broke his collar bone and walked home two miles and survived. These guys must be REALLY tough and really dedicated to bike riding. One missed riding only three days last year!

Day 22 (25 Aug 09) Minot-Rugby 72 miles.

Sunny, easy day. So easy we play the game of how far are those trees? 5 miles, 6.2 miles. Good coffee in the morning. NY bagel sandwich packed in our bags for lunch; smooth road. No wind and we are riding above 16 mph. We should get into Rugby early. In fact there is the sign for the “Geographic Center of North America 5 Miles.”

We even have our own lane on this smooth cement surface. Leonard is thinking that he may have time for the Spanish verb endings and to think about Robin’s birthday on 26 Aug. What a beautiful day.

Today’s adventures found Len playing in the mud. The result is that his mud playing privileges have been permanently and irrevocably suspended. However, I shall say no more because this is truly his story to tell and you must hear it in his words. I would like to mention that near the climax of the action, Cecil B. DeMille drove by in his giant luxury road-liner and sensing an epic event in progress, stopped and immediately set his camera crew to work. The result is an OnTheRoad blog exclusive sneak preview viewable on the Day 22 section of the full photo album. Just click the Picasa Web Album link in the upper right side panel of the blog home page.

Boom! Leonard rides into a foot of wet cement. It looked smooth because the road builders put a white goo on the surface to make it cure faster. Leonard is stuck. Feet and bike buried in cement and leg twisted and trapped by a twisted head set. This could be the end of the ride.

Jim comes over and pulls Leonard out, but the bike may not be rideable because fresh cement is drying on the pedals, tires and brakes. Leonard’s legs are covered in goo and cement and his skin starts to burn from the lye in the cement.

We use our water bottles to get the bike going and pedal to the road crew. Leonard gets a few “what the f..cks?” from the road crew. However, the crew boss is great. He offers water and gasoline to clean Leonard and the bike. I guess there will be no time for Spanish verbs tonight.

Day 20 Brief Update

We apologise to all of our faithful followers. We have been fighting headwinds and side winds for the last 4 days and today was the worst. We have a few interesting stories to tell, but at the moment, are too tired to write coherently. Today for example, our actual riding time (time on the bike) was over 8 hours and we averaged a mere 8.3 mph. It was an unrelenting strong (15 to 20 mph) headwind, like riding up a steep mountain road for 60 miles. We have a shorter ride tomorrow and will try to catch up with postings. Thanks for your patience. Jim has been posting photos daily, so at least we're keeping up with that, although we haven't taken much time for photos.

Days 15 and 16 Shelby to Havre to Malta

Day 15 (18 Aug 09) - Shelby to Havre 104 miles

We try to get out early because it will be a long day to Havre with minimal services along the way. It takes a lot of flour to make bread and even more wheat. We ride past endless wheat fields being attended to by machines that are right out of Star Wars.

Trucks pass us on this going to the sun road and literally go to the vanishing point. We see the same volcano for 45 miles. It is right to the north of us; it feels like we are standing still as someone pulls the near scenery like some 1920 movie cricket sounds included.

We stop in Mike’s Thrifyway Supermarket and pick up some food and water. A few local teenagers listen to hip-hop music in their car.

Heads down we pedal the 60 miles from Chester and Mike’s Thriftyway to Havre. We were going to stay 2 nights in Havre, but as we ride into town we decide to do the 90 miles tomorrow.

The day is not as long as we thought; a tail wind pushes us the 100+miles in a little over 6 hours. We have become more sailors than bikers as we read our compasses to determine when we will be heading E or SSE to catch the more favorable wind.

We will take our layover day in Fargo, ND in 11 days. As long as the weather is below 80F we should get our miles across the plains done before it gets over 100F. Remember Joe, the intrepid rider from Conneticut? He pedaled across ND in 100F weather and it was tough.

Dinner at the Duck Inn and a view of the railroad engine yard from our hotel room.

Day 16 (19 Aug 09) Havre to Malta 88 miles

Today, we were greeted by the cry of the Killdeer calling its name, “killdeer, killdeer, killdeer…” Once again, we were favored with a tailwind and the riding was easy. We both agreed it was the easiest 90 miles we’d ever done. I thought of our conversation with Joe from Conneticut two days before. He mentioned a solo rider he'd encountrerd along the way. "He was travelling light and fast, covering 120 to 130 miles a day, going east." The Pony Express on a bicycle!

The landscape was quite different from the previous day where the scene was dominated by endless, unbroken wheat fields. Today we followed the Milk River as it meandered back and forth across our path. Cottonwood trees were numerous both along the river and for a half mile on either side. The endless view was often interrupted by small hills.

We stopped for water at a gas station on the Fort Belknap Indian Reservation where we were greeted by friendly folks interested in where we were going and how long we thought it would take. One man warned us about mosquitoes. I didn’t think they’d be a problem given our typical 18 - 23 mph speed. However, at one point, going up a hill where we were moving at about the same speed as the wind from behind, creating a situation where relative to us, the air was still, the mosquitoes attacked with unexpected ferocity. Both Len and I were trying to swat and ride up a hill at the same time, no mean trick.

It was a bad day for snakes. They were littered (well, not quite) along the roadside in various stages of decay. One particularly healthy looking specimen was about 3 feet long and its mere presence gave Len quite a surprise. It turns out that when he was about 10 he rode over a live snake, an event that was somewhat traumatic and resulted in a lifelong aversion to snakes.

In one lonely stretch of road we encountered a coyote, that, unlike the usual coyote, did not immediately head for cover when he saw us. Instead, he stopped in the middle of the road and stared at the two strange oncoming figures on nearly silent two-wheeled vehicles. After deciding we might represent a threat, he bounded into the tall grass beside the road and almost immediately disappeared. It was truly amazing how well the color of his coat blended with the grass.

Just before arriving in Malta, we noted a large rain cloud about 2 miles in front of it. I asked Len to stop so I could put the rain covers on my panniers. It also appeared that the cloud was moving across our path and that if we waited awhile, we might not get wet. It was a good move and the only moisture came from the road and passing trucks.

An early arrival in Malta allowed us to do a little bike maintenance and for me to talk with my son, daughter in law and 9 month old grandson on Skype. Our proprietess at the hotel warned us about mosquitoes tomorrow, especially if there isn’t much wind. Sounds like we could be wearing our street clothes over our bike clothes to keep the bugs off - a trip to the grocery store in the morning to pick up repellent may be indicated as well.

Day 14 - East Glacier to Shelby

Day 14 (17 Aug 09) East Glacier to Shelby 73 miles

Monday, Monday … We rode into the East with the sun in our eyes - clear skies for the first time since Republic Washington. With the wind at our backs and the mountains behind us we devoured the first 50 miles, saying goodbye to the mountains, goodbye to wide, swift rivers, goodbye to tumbling, joyously noisy creeks, goodbye to magnificent osprey and their young, and goodbye to the white-tailed deer, all too often the victim of our addiction to the internal combustion engine and the four-wheeled vehicles it propels. We say hello to a new ecosystem, broad grassy plains that once supported herds of bison so large you could see nothing else for miles, hello to the place that gives the Big Sky state its meaning, hello to infinite arrays of telephone poles that disappear in a line on the horizon as if reflected in facing mirrors, hello to a wide shoulder on the road and hello to a prevailing (for today anyway) westerly wind.

As we leave East Glacier and climb for the last time above 5000 feet we look in our rearview mirrors and see the mountains from a new perspective - a photo is mandatory. Shortly, we come upon a small herd of bison, the reminder of the herds of 170 years ago. The bison seem to see us and playfully begin to gallop along with us. We are riding uphill at 20 mph and coast down shallow inclines at 30! It may be good to be king, but a tailwind is even better when you’re on a bike. We see small, marshy ponds sporting a few ducks. The guys fixing ties on the railway by the road honk and wave. We see trains with coal-laden cars a mile long going to feed those huge power-generating plants that blow carbon dioxide into the atmosphere creating an unintended consequence, more for our children and grandchildren than for us. Yet, our leaders fail to lead and ignore the voices of the people. We see a large wind farm, a vision of the future that could be. A farmer in a huge tractor waits for us to ride by before pulling into the road to drive by and smile at us. We try to catch a draft, but don’t have quite enough juice. Everyone just seems a little more friendly out here.

We encounter Joe, a guy about our age on a mountain bike pulling a trailer. He’s running on knobbys (regular off-road mountain bike tires; talk about rolling resistance) - “13 dollar Kevlar K-Mart specials” we’re told. Len and I stand in awe. Joe’s riding into the headwind that keeps us flying. He started in Connecticut, is headed to Seattle via the Going-to-the-Sun Road, a route we bypassed to avoid an extra two days riding. From Seattle he heads to San Francisco and from there to Key West Florida where he plans to “f--- around” for a month before returning to Connecticut next April! No motor home for this intrepid traveler - he’s camping!

The 73 miles go by easily. I see my new grand daughter for the first time on Skype - she is beautiful.

Days 11, 12 and 13 Libby to Eureka to West Glacier to East Glacier

Day 11 (14 Aug 09) Libby to Eureka 80 Miles

Dark in the morning on the western edge of mountain time zone; darker still by the low hanging rain clouds and the dingy Roadway Inn. Good thing the Motor Lodge across 4 lanes lets us use their coin washer and dryer.

Promises of another day of rain. We ride north on the eastern edge of Lake Koocanusa and on the edge of the storm. Ospreys greet our passing on a road so quiet we can hear our hearts beat when we stop to look at the mountains. We stop to watch whether a fledging osprey will take the leap off the high dive. His parents call circling us call, but he just cries.

We’ve gone 33 miles still on the edge of the storm. We are making good time and Jim remarks that it looks like Scotland: innumerable shades of gray reflected as steel gray by the lake - gray above, gray below. A few moments later he says, “Get on your rain gear.” Len fails the transition and gets soaked (he’ll never make the cut in triathlon unless he practices his transition). We stand under the trees while it pours and hails.

Rain ends and we change again. More changes than the runway models. We come to the Tobacco Valley boarded by the Mission Mountains (part of the Rockies) and the river. Over our right shoulders is black sky with black fingers hanging down. A stiff side wind makes climbing the river valley benches difficult.

We turn south into the stiff wind and stop at Stein’s Family Market. A rotisserie chicken, salad, yoghurt and bananas in our packs. It starts raining and we have 8 miles to Crave Creek Cabins. The thermometer drops 10 degrees and we are pelted with stinging rain. Rain dripping off our noses, rain soaking our shoes, but that rotisserie chicken safe in the dry bag.

Up to Grave Creek Cabins and a rainbow over the Mission Mountains.

An aside - the main event for Jim. My daughter Dawn had her second baby this morning at 9:15 AM eastern time. Kate Leigh Allen was born 7 lbs. 10 oz. Both baby and mother are doing well. I can’t wait to see my new grand daughter.

Day 12 (14 Aug 09) Eureka to West Glacier 70 miles

Our stay at the Grave Creek Cabins was delightful. The cabins are extremely well maintained, have a small deck that faces the Flathead Mountain range. The inside is warm, has hardwood floors and a small kitchen area. We had the foresight of buying a rotisserie chicken for dinner in Eureka. Given the rain and distance to the nearest restaurant (2 miles), dinner would otherwise have consisted of Hammer bars and Accelerade. As it was, we had time to clean the mud and sand from our bike chains before the rain began again. Jim was temped to make a beer run but the nearby thunder and lightening discouraged him.

We awoke to gray skies and mid-40s temperature and began the ride in our rain gear, more for warmth than because of rain. As we rode by Dickey Lake we heard the cry of the Common Loon. You hear them all summer at Lovell Lake in New Hampshire, but we were both surprised to hear that haunting call here.

We spent the first half of the ride on route 93, which was lightly traveled in the early morning. Traffic didn’t really pick up until we approached Whitefish, home of the Big Mountain ski area. Whitefish is also home to Hammer Nutrition and we were disappointed to learn that their store is closed on Saturday. We ate lunch in a small café (first time for a real lunch in many days) across the street from the local bicycle shop. After the obligatory stop at the bike shop where Jim replenished his supply of Hammer bars, we continued on to West Glacier.

We rode through quiet farmland on the outskirts of Whitefish before rejoining route 2 (about the only road we’ll see for the rest of our ride through Montana) and the rain. Upon leaving route 2 in Columbia Falls, we also left the rain. We were now riding on a lightly traveled county road. After making a short stop to remove our rain gear we encountered two other riders, Seth and Jan, who were on the second to last day of an 8 week tour of the western U. S. They were on their way to East Glacier to catch the train, the Empire Builder, back to Minnesota. A few miles further on we were passed by several people in an old Land Cruiser. They stopped in a turnout in front of us and we were approached by a young man, Dan, who as it turns out, noticed my (Jim’s) Dartmouth bike jersey and told us he was returning to Hanover this fall to complete his senior year at Dartmouth. Dan asked us if we were part of Dartmouth’s Ride and Build project. We said we were not and he explained that each year in the summer, a group of Dartmouth students ride their bicycles in the Northwest and help build homes (like Habitat for Humanity). After talking for a little while longer, we said good bye and Dan returned to the Land Cruiser. Within several hundred yards up the hill he turned on to an unmarked gravel road, presumably where he lives. What an incredible coincidence to encounter a current Dartmouth student from a state that sends very few students to Dartmouth (I think there might have been four in my class) and in an out-of-the-way place, even for Montana.

We reached West Glacier without further rain although we had a 3 mile stretch of muddy gravel road to cross by the Flathead River. The Vista Motel, where we are staying has an incredible west-facing view of the mountains. The welcoming and most generous proprietress offered to let us use her car so we could buy food for breakfast. The nearest grocery store is 10 miles away in Hungry Horse. After taking care of breakfast, we walked up the hill to the Swift Creek Grill for dinner.

Day 13 (16 Aug 09) West Glacier to East Glacier 56 miles

Change of plans; we were going to Browning. The owner of the Vista Inn in East Glacier tells us not to stay in Browning. If we do; don’t go out at night; lock your bikes in your room. The bars have bars on the windows and doors. Fights and drinking are the norm.

Shelby is too far. Good thing we decided on East Glacier. It was a slog in the cold rain up and over Marias Pass and to the east side of the continental divide. Just a bit north of here is the Hudson Bay divide. Parting of the rivers as we head for the plains.

Railroad built by Hill and his Empire Builder train. President Cleveland tried to stop Hill from building his railroad with the help of “eastern interests.” (Nothing really changes.) Hill’s’ railroad took coal and wheat to the west coast and goods back. It appears that the RR is doing the same today.

East Glacier makes its money on Glacier National Park. Small town, few motels and a big black dog that decides what side of the street he will sleep on. We scrounge for breakfast items in the one convenience store in town. Lots of Snickers, beer, Crunch, Cup of Soup. Fortunately, the person who owns the store is also a baker and we get some fresh baked goods and fruit.

We do laundry and read the police blotter in the “Glacier Reporter.” Here are a few tastes of the news (no embellishment, just the facts mam):

12:19 AM “Officer reporting he will be out with a male urinating. The male took off and officer has male’s wallet.”

7:57 AM “Backpack left with undies.”

9:25 AM “Colony advises they are on generator right now and have no electricity. Some of the guys out in the field saw a bird on fire.”

2:08 AM “Female caller requesting an ambulance to Low Rent (name of town?) for a woman. She is having a seizure.” (Editorial comment: Maybe her rent went up?)

Day 10 - Clark Fork to Libby, MT 73 miles

Climbing down the time zone ladder (GMT -07). Rain, rain please go away.

The day began with moderate rain as with road upstream along the Clark Fork River on the alternate route. At 10 miles we encountered an unexpected obstacle - road construction that prevented further progress on the paved road. Soooo … we took the detour - a very muddy road that after 5 miles returned us to the paved route about a half mile from the bridge that crossed the Clark Fork to return to state route 200 five miles inside Montana. We rode much of the day in rain but that didn’t diminish the beauty of our surroundings. In fact, as you can see from the pictures, the clouds that partially obscured the surrounding mountains were quite spectacular.

We saw more Osprey this day than I ever seen before. There were hundreds of nesting platforms and almost every one of them had a nest with more than one nearly mature chick. They became almost common place and we failed to photograph any of the Osprey. Len's spectacular photo of the humming bird at least partially compensates for the absence of Osprey. We'll do better tomorrow. Speaking of photos, don't miss the full set for each day now publicly available on Picasa at https://photos.app.goo.gl/ygsYaYy4vSJs2KXAA. We're updating the photos every day we have internet access.

Our favorite section along the Bull River had minimal car and truck traffic and provided the opportunity to reflect on the reason for undertaking a journey like ours. The Bull River Valley offered a stark contrast to the showers we received along the more heavily traveled routes. Particularly memorable was an RV pulling a large SUV AND a boat. Despite the spray, the humor of the situation could not escape us, and we both laughed as the enterprising vacationer passed us (recall the Griswold family's cross country trip starring Chevy Chase in the National Lampoon's Vacation).

A water stop at the Half Way House provided local color. We were definitely out of place in our riding togs. The sign at the door announced that there would be smoking inside. No smoke free environment for these tough folks. After filling our water bottles at the bar - the locals must have thought we were nuts, we soldiered on without rain for a change.

The day ended as it began, with rain as we rode into Libby. There we were greeted by a surly desk clerk at our hotel and a group of very friendly motorcyclists. Needing a Laundromat and being told the closet one was five miles away (back to the rain - no way), Len went across the street to another hotel were he pleaded with the very accommodating desk clerk to let us use the guest laundry even though we weren’t staying there. Guess we should have chosen the Venture Inn. While Len watched the laundry, Jim found a NAPA auto parts store and purchased degreaser and rags for the bike chains. Next was a visit to the local super market for breakfast stuff and some PayDay bars for the next day’s ride. We finished the day with a dinner visit to the Antlers Diner, a “family” restaurant specializing in everything except beer or wine, something we really wanted to have.

Day 9 12 Aug 09. Sacheen Lake, WA to Clark Fork, ID. 79 miles.

On and off; on and off with the rain gear. We are now fully loaded. The bikes will handle differently and the average speeds will drop. No more 35-40 mph down the hills. Also, the road is wet. The ride is nice until we make the turn on to Route 95 where the 18 wheelers give us our road oil showers.

We hook into a nice bike path for the last 5 miles into Sandpoint; just in time for a pizza and cash infusion. Along Lake Pend Oreille we see ospreys and belted kingfishers.

As we enter Clark Fork we see the Squeeze Inn and its gourmet food sign. Leonard recalls eating there 4 years ago and the cook, Janet. Janet opens the restaurant in the summer as a place so her daughters will have summer jobs and a place to swim, hike and fish.

She has done it for 14 summers and spends winters in South America. A free spirit, she sits with us during dinner and talks and talks. He daughter has to interupt so we can eat. Tough town she tells us.

With a little riding we will be in Montana in the morning. It is pouring rain right now and we hope it ends before the long day to Libby,MT.

Day 7 - Colville to Sacheen Lake

A short ride through the town and neighborhoods of Colville brought us to rolling farmland - always deceptive for the bike rider since the “rolling” hills often turn out to offer challenging climbs, no exception here. Weather was perfect but a headwind (is there any other kind for the earnest bicyclist) came up about an hour into the ride and stayed with us the rest of the day.

After traveling the back roads, we returned to route 20, this time with almost no traffic for nearly 30 miles. Following a great downhill and crossing the Pend Oreille (the French would feint if they heard the pronunciation or saw the spelling) River, we turned onto the LeClerq Road. We traveled south along the river after having been within about 10 miles of the Canadian border. After riding about 30 miles we encountered unexpected road repair work. Thankfully, Pat and his Element were still with us. Jim, who was driving at the time waited for Len and Pat at the beginning of the construction zone. When they arrived, we racked the bikes and drove the 5 miles across the construction zone. Len and Pat returned to the bikes to finish the last 10 miles.

We were greeted by Bev Lawrie and Cathy Retterer at the Retterer family compound (two houses and various outbuildings) on Sacheen Lake. Sacheen is much like Donner Lake in the Sierras for those who have a basis for comparison. Very beautiful. Pat and Jim swam across the lake while Len loafed on the dock. Pat decided that he wanted to get an early start returning to Reno, so he departed about 4 PM.

After a day’s rest, the real ride begins for Len and Jim. We’re “easing” into the trip with a 78 mile day fully loaded. Should be fun.

How to see all of the photos with captions

Paste in your browser or click on the following link: 2009 Cross Country Bike Ride Photos This will take you to a page that shows all of the photo albums sorted by day. The prior link I provided did not work.

And Away We Go Photos 4

And Away We Go Photos 3

And Away We Go Photos 2

And Away We Go Photos 1

Days 5 and 6

Day 5 Winthrop to Republic 8 Aug 09 114 miles

Although this is the longest day of the ride, we’re still trading driving responsibilities and Jim and Len are not yet carrying fully loaded panniers. Loup Loup Pass (4,020) and Wauconda Pass (4,310). Winthrop has a Woodstock Revisited Festival. The local paper featured stories of homemade instruments. The police blotter reported on a case of harassment by Billy goat and a report of horses running free. Seems to me this town is for escapees from Seattle; trying to find a place to be free of commutes.

Javaman supplies us with great coffee and breakfast burritos. Wish we had access to this every morning. After the Loup Loup down hill we arrive at the Okanogan River and pedal through Okanogan, and Omak. Omak has the same type of housing as the Makah Indian Reservation at Wa’atch Beach. Pat drives part of the route and tells us that there is an Indian Pow-Wow in the center of town.

On to Tonasket and back up to Wauconda Pass. Len drives from Riverside to Tonasket after we share sub sandwiches on a busy section of Route 20. Ambiance of diesel fumes. We climb up a valley between 6,000 foot peaks and the grasses become more lush with quaking aspens around meadows. Traffic dies down and the air once again becomes sweet. We can hear the larks.

Jim and I stop in Wauconda where a few cowboys are buying Coors Lite and trying to pick up the local waitress. She is a young woman working on her Apple computer in the middle of nowhere. She seemed out of place in a town with a 10x 10 general store and a gas station/restaurant combination where the tap water is considered unsafe to drink (filter problem).

We are happy for the water in the restaurant after the hot climb to the high meadows. A quick 17 mile down hill at speeds above 30 mph followed by stiff headwinds and 5 miles of fresh chip-seal (makes for a very rough and slow ride on a bike). We notice that Republic appears more affluent than many of the other towns we’ve seen along the route. Don’t kid yourself, there’s still a lot of poverty out here.

　

　

Day 6 Republic to Colville 9 Aug 09. 57 miles.

14,800 feet of climbing in 3 days takes us to the Columbia River. We take our time leaving Republic partially because it’s a short day but more importantly because the Java Shop doesn’t open until 0700. Len and Jim ride the first leg, a 3000 foot climb in about 2 and a half hours to Sherman Pass at 5,575 feet. The descent follows the gorgeous Sherman Creek as it gathers volume from many side channels to end in Lake Roosevelt on the Columbia River (a product of the Grand Coulee Dam). With the crossing of the Columbia, we say goodbye to the eastern cascade and virtually all of the climbing we will do until we reach Vermont. We climb out of the river bed and with a stiff head wind, slowly peddle into Coleville through bucolic (or “bubonic” as Pat would say) farmlands.

Pat finds a bike shop to get his computer repaired. His day was one of running back and forth on his bike, but he is not sure of his distances because of the broken bike computer. On to the Comfort Inn next to the Arby’s. We have to have a photo of Arby’s in honor of Mateo del Cruz, a biking buddy who died last month. The three of us feel lucky; lucky to be healthy enough to take this ride.