Day 37

Woke from a dream in a stupor at 4am to a soul-shaking rumble. The train was going by. My tent wasn't more than 20 yards away from the tracks, and out here in the country, those things don't slow down. I watched it's silhouette fly past in the moonlight, clutching the sides of my tent with angst.

An hour later, I woke myself up to the pre-dawn prarie light. Packed up in the heavy dew, not knowing exactly how far I wanted to go, but knowing that I wanted to ride in the cool of the morning.

Was on the bike at 6, and already the farmers were getting going on the day. Noticed on the way out I had camped just outside a town by the name of "ANS--M" (the missing letters were illegible from bullet holes) and in doing so, had increased the town's population by 33%.

Another train passed through just as I turned onto 46, the road I would be on all day, without a single turn.

I wondered if these towns know that if anything went wrong with these trains while going through their towns, everything in it and everyone they know would be wiped off the map in an instant.

I made it to Enderlin before 8, and bought carrots and peanut butter. Stopped at the library to eat breakfast. A little ticked at myself for going so far off route to see the grasslands, but oh well. Looking at the day ahead of me, it became clear I was headed into the heart of it.

Notice the marker pointing west that says "Limited services next 78 miles". What they really mean is, "there ain't nothin for 40 miles, then two tiny towns, then nothin again for 40 more." I saddled up, not sure how far I could make it, but wanting to go.

The road was bleak.

Straight roads, abandoned buildings, distant silos.  There was a kind if zen to it, or a creeping insanity, but perhaps they're not so different.

At 9 or 10 the wind picked up. Strong, from the north. Not helpful, but it wasn't a headwind. Made steering difficulty, but it kept me cool in the hot sun. Still high 80's. I found that if I leaned slightly into it, maybe 5 degress, I could sort of lean on it. But that was when it was steady. When it left suddenly, I would have to catch myself from going off the road.

At noon, I saw a sign for a historical site. Crummy road to the top of a lone hill. Little did I know I was ascending Standing Rock Hill, a sacred site to the Dakota people, and a geographic landmark to early explorers.

Shown above, is the actual standing rock. It was surrounded by a barbed wire fence from the other fields. I prayed for a moment on top, meanwhile, men in trucks ripped up the white earth at the bottom of the hill, working on some unknown project of progress.

Just past there was the Sheyenne river. Another brownish river in a low prarie canyon. The campground on the river side was called "Little Yellowstone Park".

The road went on.

At 3 I made it to the towns. Litchville and Marion. Marion sounded nicer. I went there. Litchville had a sign "Population: More or Less"

Laid out my tent in the city park to dry from the due. Sun was so hot, it took 45 seconds, I swear. Then a snack and siesta on the grass. 40 miles was too short of a day, but it was gonna be a haul to the next town: Gackle. Without another option I decided to go for it.

At 4 the winds were still strong, but I knew it would get better later.

Stopped by the James river after 12 miles. Lush tall grasses and shady trees I know not the name of.

Sometimes I wave at myself to keep myself company.

As I neared Gackle, the flats became more rolling, which I enjoyed. It feels like you're actually moving instead of just peddaling....

At 8:30, I saw the sign for Gackle. Let out a big hoot.

Unlike other towns, Gackle had something special for me. They call it the Honey Hub and people have been telling me about it for more than a week. It's a cyclists hostel run out of the back room of a guy's house. He's a beekeeper but also a cyclist. It's all donation-based and there's a couple beds a bathroom and shower, cycling supplies and a small kitchen. A real cyclist's Haven in the middle of these plains. I found the place just behind the Baptist Church like they said it would be.

Lots of kids running around playing near the house. Jason, the owner of the house, came by to say hello after I had settled.

Two fellas arrived later that night who were going the opposite direction. We talked late into the night and slept in the next morning. They had lotsa good stories. Montana is sounding scarier every day.

Looking at the maps, I believe I did 91 miles. The longest I have ever ridden my bike in one day.