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.
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