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.

Day 36

Started the day early. Woke up on the floor of John's Place and went upstairs for breakfast. They were kind enough to give me an apple and banana for the road and John even escorted me to the bike path that would take me out of town. A real pleasure staying with these folks.

It was only 8:30 when I started heading south of Fargo, but it was already hot. Hopped onto the county road going west and crossed over Interstate 29. Had an overwhelming feeling of stepping into the void there seeing the plains spread out almost infinitely into the horizon. It's not that I'm not prepared, just that there is very little to fall back on.

Did a zig-zag pattern on some roads headed Southwest of Horace, but was obstructed by construction. Don't know if I didn't see the detour sign or if there was none given, but my alternate route around the construction lead me on to a gravel road that soon turned into a muddy black trench.

Had to walk the bike. Mud started caking on the wheels and soon it was so thick it began to clog the fenders.

Rough. I cleared it out as I went and pushed on. Finally I got back to the pavement, a sweaty muddy mess, and heard a jingling noise from my wheel in the wind. I looked down and found a broken spoke on the rear wheel.

I was fortunate enough to have the foresight before this trip to get bicycle insurance, which includes roadside assistance. If it sounds completely  exorbitant to you, it is, but it's only $10 a month. While I was sitting on the side of the road waiting for my tow truck, kind lady stopped to ask if everything was alright. I said yes and she handed me a bag of cool cherries, which I thanked her for and devoured after she left.

Tow man came about 45 minutes later and he was shocked to find that he only had to take a bike. A first for him I guess. He brought me back to Fargo to the bike store where I got the spoke fixed up real quick and the fellas even loosen the rear hub which they said was far too tight, giving me less resistance for the road ahead.

I was bummed about the whole ordeal but very glad it happened to me so close to Fargo. Having lost my window of opportunity in the cool morning hours, I decided to wait in Fargo until the evening to start again. I did so and bought a $6 sandwich to have for dinner while biking to my destination.

At 4 o'clock I headed out in the same way once more. I avoided the construction this time and made Fairly good time considering the heat was still prevalent and the side winds strong. Around 6 it began to cool and around 7 the winds decreased. At 8 the sun became so low I had my hat brim pointed downwards and spent much of the ride looking at the pavement. I practiced a pedaling meditation in which I try to have my feet keep rotating while not actively telling them to do so, and instead imagine myself being pulled effortlessly by some large magnet in the Pacific. If you look at pavement long enough just below you as you're moving, it begins to look like a waterfall, or many thousands of yards of blue and black and green and grey yarn being strong together into a loom.

I had intended to get to the sheyenne National grasslands, and I was getting very close around 9:30. The sun was setting and it was still 10 miles more, but there was a full moon that I decided to go for it.

There being only 1% of this prairie ecosystem left undisturbed in the United States, I figured it was worth it. I biked as fast as I could pass Sheldon towards where I thought I could access the grasslands.

But once again the road turned to gravel and then to sand. Sam does Breezy's Kryptonite, and all powers were lost. I had to give up as the last light faded, and settled for a farmer's field just off the side of the railroad.

Tried to lay out a tarp and sleep under the stars but the bugs were so bad I couldn't stand it. So I pitched my tent and threw everything in, not bothering to stake it out or even lay out my pad, and just slept on the matted grass beneath me.

Day 35

Today proved to me once more, you just never know what's gonna happen out on the road. Serendipity is always around the corner...

Had a pleasant granola breakfast in the upstairs apartment to Gretchen and Andrew's place while listening to Minnesota Public Radio and wondering what in the world is gonna happen to this country. Crapola! Haven't had this tasty Ely, MN made granola since I worked up there two summers ago. Still just as good.

Got on the road nice and early. Pelican Rapids looking swell in the morning light.

And here's their store front. A nifty little shop.

Construction on hwy 9 going North so a detour I made out and around, bypassing the town of Cormorant and leaving the lakes region. West and slightly North to Fargo. Heat wasn't bad until about 10. Then it was bad. Tried to wait until Tansem to find a bathroom but all that was in that town was an lonesome town hall. Had to find a spot on the side of the road. I can tell why they're farming out here. Good black dirt. Lots of worms.

Rode through Rollag and went down my last hill somewhere before Downer, which was, well, a downer. More of a truck stop than a town. 10 miles more was Sabin. "The town that grew up on 52" (52 is the highway).

Some siren made an awful racket as I was getting ready to go. Don't know what it was for but damn it was loud. Like an old police car siren but once it got to the top note it just stayed there for probably 2 full minutes.

Saw my first bomb train on my way out of Sabin. Nothing on it said it was carrying crude oil, but I would recognize those vaguely rounded, black, and unfortunately bomb-shaped cars anywhere. It just sat there, off-gassing outside of town.

Some more straight roads on the flatness approaching North Dakota for another 8 miles or so, and I crossed the Red River and was in Fargo.

Rolled up into town and stopped at a bike store looking for information. Was hoping to find someone who knew what it was like to tour across the state. They told me just what I expected. Flat, hot, straight. Rolling prarie past Dickenson. Just so happened that right about then two other cyclists came into the shop who had just crossed the state from the West. I spent a long while talking to them about the route ahead. Solidified my intentions to get some early morning miles in before the heat. Also made me extremely excited to get to Montana and beyond.

Fella at the bike store said I might be able to find camping for free somewhere along the river south of town, but it just so happened that a minute or two later, another host got back to me, said I can stay with him at his place in Southwest Fargo. Stoked on having a place to stay for the night, I decided to take a little walk around Broadway and see what downtown Fargo had to offer.

Hard to capture, but a pretty hip little strip with lots of bars and places to eat etc... I had just gotten to the end of the strip and was stopping to take a look at a historical plaque to a building that looked familiar to an old building I knew in Seattle. It was just then I heard someone calling at me from a car in the nearby intersection. I looked over to see none other than Kurt Smemo, my ES 105 Professor from good ole Skidmore College back in Saratoga. I couldn't help but yelling out loud "No shit!" I couldn't believe it. I think we both did double and triple takes. He pulled over and we talked for a minute or two. He was in town for a funeral (an uncle of his), and was staying at a cheap hotel on the west side of town by the interstate. We were both killing time and the place had a pool so he invited me over.

Still getting over the extraordinary odds of the situation, I weaseled through the automobile infrastructure of West Fargo and found my way over the interstate to the Biltmore Hotel. Snuck in the back entrance and found my way to the inner courtyard. There was Kurt, already in his shorts, lounging pool side. The day had already surpassed 90, so we hopped right in. Just what I needed.

We talked about the journey and this and that for a while, until his sister and nephew came and I realized it was time for me to split. Said goodbye still laughing at what a small world it truly is.

Down south and across the interstate again, I found my way to John's house. Hidden among a maze of suburban houses that all looked alike, I picked it out by the Subaru in the driveway and the bike tires hanging from the garage ceiling. I met the dog and brought my stuff in. He was hungry too and had just got back from work, so we drove back to downtown and found a place to eat. Settled on a fancier place that he had been meaning to go to for a while. John was a real Notth Dakota man. Lanky with stories as long and meandering as the Missouri. Excitable and witty. He was from Bismarck and had gone to school and had been living in Fargo for most of his life. We talked about bikes and his work and the area I had been in and was going to go to, community radio and food co-ops, and even Charles L Somners base, where he had gone as a Boy Scout and I had worked at as a guide. We had a hell of a feast and a great conversation, and afterward he drove me around to some of the sights of the city. A swell night and an instant friend.

What a night in Fargo, and what a life it is on the road. Livin the dream.

Day 34 (4th of July especial)

Yippee! A holiday for America but not for me, I'm still biking. But what am I saying, this whole thing is a vacation! Nothing I'd rather be doing.

So it was another pastoral day through the breadbasket- or should I say, the turkeybasket of America. Many of these town I notice have significant turkey pricessing industries, and quite a few turkey feeding barns, almost enough to outnumber the dairies. That and corn. Corn, corn everywhere.

I was feeling celebratory and started the day off with Aaron Copland's "Rodeo". Sure got me going alright. I like riding to soundtracks and scores, feels like I'm in a cross country biking montage. Then later on I moved into some good time country and western. That sistained me for some time and I was signing along loud enough for the cows to moo back.

Reached out to some folks in Pelican Rapids that were offering to host. I thought it would be a shame to spend the holiday alone, so I welcomed the company. It would be a shorter day than usual. But hell, it's a holiday.

Bike trail ended in Fergus Falls. Stopped downtown for a snack and boy was it dead. Looks like it must be a nice place maybe on a weekend, but all the shops were closed today.

On a tip from my hosts, I was directed to Erhard (population 148) where I was told they would be festivities. It was off route a ways but I made the detour. On the way I mounted a relatively tall hill and got a good look at the surrounding hills, lakes and fields.

The breeze film good as the day was nearing 90. Without hardly a cloud in the sky, I was practically dripping when I pulled into Erhard (shown at the bottim of the hill in the photo above). Downtown was a sorrowful sight. Only two gas stations and the spray foam insulation store open. However, the park was still poppin. I arrived around 2, in the parade had happened at 11, so lots of folks had already left but there is still easily twice as many people there than lived in the entire town. Snapped this perfect photo of the parade floats.

Pretty much summed up the celebration. Beyond all the hot rods and tractors parked on the lawn, there were loads of vendors selling some very tantilizing summer treats. I indulged, and lord almighty was it good.

There was even a band playing cover songs in the general good-time theme ranging from "Run Around Sue" to "Don't Stop Believing." There was bouncy houses and a raffle, but the main event seemed to be the eating and day drinking, honestly.

After I had my fill, and had let the heat of the day pass, I saddled up again and made my way towards Pelican Rapids. I was there before long  and stopped in the park for breather, while I watched  several Hispanic  children jump off a bridge and play in the water. My hosts Gretchen and Andrew run a ice cream shop and canoe and kayak rental right on the Pelican River in downtown, and I found the shop just downriver from the park. I walked right in and was immediately offered ice cream. What a day. I can recommend the strawberry rhubarb if you ever stop by.

It was still early evening and I took a cold shower well they finished collecting the last kayaks of the day. Sometime later, we ventured out to their cabin on Lake Lida to watch the evening pass.

Andrew's family had been farming on the location since around the 1880s or 90s.

The farm was still up and running, but the waterside lots had been sold to make lake front cabins. And not mcmansions in glorified cabin disguise, these were how summer cabins should be. A cozy shack by by a shady beach.

We hopped on the boat and took a quick spin to the other side of the lake.

A band was playing there on a barge anchored in the water. Party boats milled around while people swam and danced etc... On a nearby island, pelucans gathered to watch the show.

As Ratty would say, what fun it is "simply messing about in boats..."

Dinner was turkey baked in barbeque sauce on a bun, with some pasta salad. Delish.

Hot. Tired. Satisfied. A good summer's day.

Day 33

Got to wake up to my favorite sound. A goddamn lawnmower. I hurried and dropped the tent before he saw, but afterwards that I stopped caring and ate breakfast on a bench and watched him do circles around me.

A bright, sunny day here in Albany. Hopped back on the Lake Wobegon bike trail ready to make some good miles. And I did. Found myself in Melrose before long. Had a nice man and his wife ride next to me for a while and chat. He did all the talking. I like it when people do that. They were from Indiana. The man was training for the Seattle to Portland race, and when he heard I was from there, started asking me all about it. I told him there'd probably be more hills and he was used to, but it would be a great ride nonetheless.

Melrose was a turkey processing town. It had a funny smell and they were a few feathers strewn on the bike path. I dropped a letter in the mail here.

Then Sauk Center. Slightly bigger, same feel.

I'm gonna have so many pictures of Main Street small town America, I'm never going to be able to know which ones are which... Had a snack at the veteran's memoral (which most of them have).

Next town was Alexandria. It announced itself with pride.

They call him Big Ole. Alexandria is supposedly the birthplace of America because of a large stone they called the Runestone left by what they think was a Viking Expedition (some say a colony) in the area in the 12th century. I was tempted to go to the museum but decided to keep on moving, and Wikipedia it later.

After sun all day, some clouds moved in around 3. Not little cotton balls like there were in Wisconsin and Michigan. These clouds came in like a large flat bank.

They must be coming off the plains. I can feel them getting close. The satellite map of this country shows a slowly fading green to brown just west of where I am now. The anticipation builds....

Decided to call it a day after 71 miles in Ashby.

City Park said no camping and I follow the rules if it says it. So I went to the next green spot on the map. Cemetery. Darn. To the next one and I got lucky. Quiet little park tucked between two marshy little lakes. I was all set to make camp when another gosh darn lawn mower pulled up to mow this already Immaculate lawn. Ugghhgh. I let him do his business and then asked him while he was packing up if anyone would mind if I camped there the night. He said go right ahead. Good thing, I wasn't leaving anyhow. Turned out to be a very pleasant night after he left. Enjoyed the sunset over the marsh in my hammock while eating quinoa and potatoes.

The festivities of already begun. Crackles, bangs, and pops ring out across the lakes. But for me, another peaceful night in camp.

Day 32

On the road again.

Seeing as I took the day off yesterday, I had some miles to make up. I also anticipated getting out of the city to be a pain in the neck. Getting out and in of big cities like this are always the hardest. So I packed bright and early and then split.

There's Breezey all loaded up in Caroline's apartment just before going. A nice place. Felt very hip after being out of a city for a while.

On a tip from a fellow at the bike store, I took the Northstar Commuter Train running North from the Twins stadium all the way to Big Lake. I know it's cheating a little bit, but it gave me a solid boost to make my way across Minnesota, and the ticket was only five bucks.

So I made my way downtown on another conveniently located bike path (last picture of Minneapolis skyline here I promise- it's just very picturesque).

Twins stadium was like most- blatantly branded regalia posted about and a few lonesome straglers wandering about talking to themselves. I found the station and a shorter man with light red hair asked if I had a phone charger. I did and we sat by the outlet while we waited for the train. He too was going to Big Lake.

Train came on time at 10:44 and I loaded Breezey into a car, while all the ticketmasters asked me the usual questions. There she is all strapped in.

I sat with my new acquaintance and talked for the hour's ride. His name was Matthew and was from the area. We talked about transportation and water quality and he had much travel experience, in the States and in Europe. Turns out he was an Aerospace engineer but was through with it and was out traveling. After he got off in Big Lake he aimed to walk down highway 10 with his small suitcase until someone picked him up.

Before I knew it we had arrived and I passed Matt on the road offering a short goodbye. The day was clear as could be and I made goodtime to Clearwater. Had lunch on the banks of the Clearwater river (a small tributary to the Mississippi).

Up the Mississippi further I arrived in St Cloud. Went through the university, and then through downtown. Main street was empty as a ghost town.

There were shops and all, just no one out. Sunday, I though must be the reason. But when I turned to go West off the river, I found where they all were.

This hot strip of self-indulgence. A capitalist wasteland. This can't be what freedom looks like,  I thought to myself. But I rode on.

After St Cloud I got on the Lake Wobegon trail, which took me clear to Avon, where I stopped on a bench by a lovely garden.

I do appreciate a good bench. After Avon I headed for Albany, my goal for the day.  Only 54 miles, but I had a later start with the train and all. Somewhere along the trail this flag came out of nowhere.  Feelings of patriotism are already running high. Heard fireworks here and there all day.

I have a feeling this 4th of July is going to be like none I've ever had,  not only because I'm on the road,  but because of the current president.  Something I'll be thinking about in the next couple of days, no doubt.

Found camp in city park in Albany.

We shall see where tomorrow takes me.

Day 31

July at last. An auspicious day for resting. Awoke to a ceiling fan- a new sight.

Took the morning slow and did some yoga on the carpet. Around ten I walked to the hardware store and got duct tape and super glue. Now I can fix pretty much anything.

Caroline picked me up soon after with a crew of her high school friends and we drove off to Taylor's Falls. First time in a car in over a month. The worst part is it didn't feel strange at all.  We spend so much time in them it's almost as normal as walking.

Young people! I was beginning to think they were an extinct breed, and the human race was soon to wither away. Might be for the better... But there's still plenty of life energy, it's just all in the city.

We found a quiet spot undet some white pines by some exposed rocks on the river (the St. Croix). Upriver to the right were a small set of rapids below the brown rock cliffs. We joked they were the falls, and some time later and tourist riverboat came by and I heard the announcer say "...and these are all that's left of Taylor's falls after a dam was put in upstream around the turn of the century." And that was that.

We swam and sunbathed and snacked and wrote and napped all afternoon in our spot and when the snacks had been snucked and the naps all nupped we packed up and headed out.

My legs appreciated the day off the bike, but I had things to do yet. Went back to REI for a couple more last minute things, and on the way home, went for another sunset ride around the northside of Minneapolis. I simply can't resist, biking in this city is so easy. Just look at those bike paths!

I also think that exploring a city by bicycle is just the way to go. You can see so much and when something catches your eye, you just stop and check it out. And you see so much more than walking. (Also free parking everywhere...) So I saw St. Anthony (reminded me of Ravenna in Seattle), and then rode down Johnson street, which reminded me of Phinney Ridge back home. Cool old theater too.

And then through a couple more residential areas of Northeast park that did feel a lot like North Seattle. But then I turned onto Central ave, and in the warm air, it suddenly felt like Salt Lake City.

A little further down, the street became a little Somalia, almost as if Mission St. in Frisco replaced all its iglesias and taquerias with Somalian coffee shops and groceries. But perhaps I've just been around the States too much and now they're all jumbled up in my mind. Or perhaps they're all the same in the end.

Rode down the Mississippi to the the Hennepin  Bridge, where the first ever bridge to cross the Mississippi was built.

As I crossed I felt a desire for something sweet, but cool. Maybe pudding I thought. And then it struck me... cheesecake. While my metabolism is cranking as it is, might as well enjoy it. Found a bakery in dinkytown and had a fat slice all to myself.

Another fine day in Minneapolis, but the show must go on, and the adventure continues tomorrow.