The Northern Tier: Days 18-22

Day 18: Headwinds

     I was planning on having a “short” day of only 60 miles this day.  The road was flat and straight from Glasgow to Wolf Point.  Unfortunately, strong and consistant headwinds turned the day into another long one.

I’m going to take a moment to describe what it’s like riding into a 20 mph headwind.  On flat ground, with no extra weight, I can get my bike to just over 25 mph.  That is to say that’s about my max speed, with the only thing keeping me from going faster being air resistance.  If you’ve ever ridden your bike 25 mph, it’s not an unineteresting speed.  The air wooshes.  Now imagine that wind speed, hitting you, pushing you, while standing completely still.  All the force of a full out sprint with no moevment at all.  It is crippling on a long ride.  Absolutely amazing when blowing you forward, but when it’s hoplding you back, it’s like some poltergeist is dancing just in front of you, pushing you the wrong direction.

Anyway, there wasn’t much to see other than hay and wheat fields as usual in eastern Montana so far.

I was riding to a small outfitter called Steamboat Dry Goods, for a stay in the backyard.  Carolyn runs the place and it is fantastic.  They stock a lot of outdoor goods, and she had spare inner tubes! My flat tire woes were soon to be ended.  Not to mention they had sixers of Ballast Point, so of course I bought some.  It made fighting headwinds all day not quite as bad.

Mileage: 60

Day 19: Glendive

Despite 3 Sculpins the night before I woke up unfazed.  A breve from Carolyn helped out a lot getting started in the morning.  Thanks for that.  I got on the road at 9 and started crushing miles.  My audio book was getting interesting (more on that later) and there were some hills again.  Some bigger hills, that I could actually get out of the saddle and work on.  For some reason I love the big climbs and although these were nothing like the Cascades or the Rockies, I was still having a good time climbing.

I was still dodging thunderstorms that day, but I managed to avoid them all with the help of my dad checking weather radar at home.  I got lucky and a small system blew right overhead.    There was a very long, very gradual descent into Glendive, where I ate a lot of ice cream.

Mileage: 100

Day 20:  North Dakota!

I was woken up in the city park in Glendive by BNSF Locomotives blasting horns and thundering their way out of station.  Great alarm clocks those trains are.  I was feeling great and the weather was suiting my mood.  Sunny and cool and it remained that way the entire day.  I was wearing my long sleeve wool shirt for the sun protection.  Merino wool is a pretty amazing fabric.  It wicks moisture very well and even in 80 degree heat still manages to stay cool.

 

I crossed the border into North Dakota in the middle of the day. They have one of the coolest sign fonts I’ve ever seen.  Radical stuff.  There were fields and fields forever, occasionally punctuated by water towers painted the color of the sky.

I made it to Theodore Roosevelt National Park and stopped for a Sioux City Sasparilla, one of the best root beers out there.  That soda was possibly the best tasting soda I’ve ever consumed.

I kept going, past hills that had been carved by rivers, ancient sedimentary rocks eroded over the ages to expose layers upon layers of ancient lake bed.

These badlands were also the site of some of the wars with the Sioux tribes that occured during the American Indian Wars.  Battle of the Badlands occured not to far from Painted Canyon.  Wagon ruts from the armies that made their way through these canyons are still present.  It was a pretty interestigng place, a national park that I’m embarassed to say I’d never heard of, lots of history on Custer and other leaders in the west, all surrounded by beautiful vistas of the ornate canyons.  I was having a great time.

Eventually I made my way to Dickinson, where I stopped for a couple beers at a local bar and then headed to camp by Lake Patterson.

Mileage: 110

Day 21: The First Crash.  

(It wasn’t bad.)  I woke up with a hangover this time, punishment for having too much fun the night before.  I wanted to make the 110 miles to Bismarck in one go, but willpower was severeley lacking.  Still, I was hopeful.  I stopped in Dickinson to mail some things, and stocked up on groceries.  I was taking my time, letting the hangover fade.

The wind picked up right as I set off onto Old Highway 10.  This road was in the middle of being resurfaced and was more or less gravel.  Already things were not looking good.  Then, while looking down at my map trying to calculate my speed, I hit a deeper gravel patch and lost control of the bike. Skinny bike tires, especially  laden with all the gear of a tour, do not work on loose surfaces.  The tire slide out from under me and I hit the ground on my left side.  I took the impact with my hands at first, which, incredibly, were completely unharmed (thanks for the thick mitts rock climbing).  I rolled onto my shoulder though and skinned myself a bit.

Now I was furious.  I didn’t even stop to consider the scrape, just snapped a photo for posterity and rage-cycled for a few miles.  After I had calmed down a bit, talked myself down from the embarassment of crashing, I broke out my medical kit (which I reminded myself I had bought for just this sort of thing) cleaned the scrape, slapped a bandaid on, had a doughnut and felt a lot better.

My pride was injured more than anything.  Still, there was some lingering anger so I listened to Watain for the rest of the ride. Black metal was somehow soothing to me as I faced down the wind and the sun for the rest of the day.  I imagined that the corn beside me was headbanging as it was getting beaten by the breeze.  The day never let up.  I hit a patch of grasshoppers at one point.  The big, gnarly 2 inch long monsters were sitting on the road and as I rolled by they would spring away.  Often they would jump directly into the wind, only to be blown into me.  They were big enough to sting if they got going fast enough just due to their size.  At another point I heard this woosh of air, then a peeling cry of a falcon that had just dive bombed me.  They’re agressive in defending their nests and cyclists are unusual (and slow) enough that they feel a bit threatened.  I shouted at it the next time it came around and it buggered off.

I realized I had forgotten to change my clock to the new timezone and that was the nail in the coffin for the ride to Bismarck.  I called it quits in New Salem, got myself a delicious chocolate malt and slept underneath a gigantic cow on the hill.

Mileage:  71

Day 22: The Hotness

The wheat and hay fields were now occasinally joined by a corn field.  That’s about all there was between New Salem and Bismarck though.  That and an unbearable heat.

In Bismarck I crossed the Missouri river though, so that was nice.  I stopped by a golf course for lunch around noon and the sun really ramped things up.  It was reaching into the 90s and although I’m not stranger to heat, I’m still considering this trip a vacation of sorts, so I slowed down and took my time.  I rested in the shade occasionally, chugging water and pouring sweat.  I stopped in a tiny bar in Moffit an drank two cokes and a sprite before facing down a ripper headwind for the last 13 miles to Hazelton.

By the end of the day my skin felt sandy from all the salt that had collected, remnants of my toil.  Amazingly, the town park had a shower which I stood in for a long while cooling off before heading to bed.

Mileage: 75