STATISTICS AND RANDOM PICTURES OF THE RIDE

SOME STATISTICS OF THE RIDE TO FARGO:

Distance: 1803.83 miles, of which I biked 1658
Elevation Gain: 59,269 ft (Mt. Everest is 29,028 ft)
Calories: 81,228
Max Distance: 96.56
Max Speed: 39.8 mph (my personal best-something I will never see again)
Average Daily Distance: 62.20 miles

AND HERE ARE SOME RANDOM PHOTOS:

Towns near Chester, Montana all had welcome signs crafted of oxidized metal to greet us. We think this has to do with the current centennial celebration so many of them are having this year, not coincidentally marking the time when the railroads were booming.

Montana scenery. We spent almost two weeks of the five weeks in Montana, and its scenery was always beautiful, changing, and interesting.

Ourmost impressive grade for going down a hill (up was even more!)

Each day the Subaru sag vehicle appeared at about every 15 or 20 miles to be sure we were eating and drinking enough, and to check us off the list. The sag drivers were like Li'l Bo Peep, shepherding wayward cyclists and making sure we didn't get lost. So the Subaru was known as Bo Peep. Note that the sheep are on bicycles.





















We were always aware of trains in Montana, and sometimes in North Dakota, and they passed by every half-hour or hour, with container cars bearing names like Hyundai, China Shipping, and Kanjin -- right there on the prairie.
















Here's one of many mailboxes, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, leading to homes so far away we couldn't see them. There were also school bus stop signs, so I imagined kids growing up a mile down a dirt road, catching the bus to civilization each day.

After biking up Going to the Sun Road to the top of Logan Pass (the Continental Divide), I went to the Park Visitors Center there. The pass had only been open for a week when we were there, and this remaining snowbank gives an idea why!

There will be one more blog entry before I conclude this "bucket list" adventure, and I'll show you some of the people I especially enjoyed on this ride.

DAY 30

Day 30

Monday, July 19, 2010

Rugby to St. Michael’s, ND

81 miles

Let me begin by showing you this picture. Rugby, ND is the geographical center of North America.

Today we had a long ride, 81 miles. On days like this, the guides provide a prepared lunch at the sag/van. So at mile 50, there they were, with tomatoes, cheese, lettuce, and turkey to fold into wrap sandwiches, along with cookies, cold Diet Coke, and tunes blaring out of the Subaru sag: Alison Krause and the Union Station, and Bob Dylan’s “Modern Times.” Everyone lingered, laughing, swaying to the music, dancing, sitting in the shade of the trailer and talking.











And I thought as I anticipated writing about this, there’s no way to convey just how special this moment was without telling about what had preceded it last Friday. I’d thought I would write about Friday’s event as an addendum once I returned from the ride. Now I know that I really have to describe it here so it won’t be the last part of the blog.

Last Friday morning, my friend Barbara, who was my collision buddy (and was pictured on a previous post), was doing what she loved best – biking in warm weather, with a gentle tailwind. She often biked alone, since her recumbent bike is lower to the ground, and her speed is generally slower. One of her greatest pleasures on this trip was biking every foot of the way up Logan Pass at the Continental Divide, and making it there by 10:45 am (Remember, 11 am was the deadline, since bikes weren’t allowed on that road between 11 am and 4 pm).

Anyway, there’s no way to ease into telling this gently: on Friday at 11:30 am, Barbara was hit by a Ford F-150 and killed. The driver said he’d slowed, but hit her rear wheel. She was thrown about twenty feet from her bike. On Saturday, several from our group placed flowers at the site. I didn’t go, and it seemed creepy to me. But those who did were glad they did so. They said the skid marks only started after the location of the crash, not before; so it’s questionable that he tried to stop or avoid her. A criminal investigation is under way.

Obviously, this sent us all into a tailspin. It was both ironic and important that our scheduled layover day (two nights in one place) began right there in Minot at the end of biking on Friday. We were all in disbelief that this could happen. We talked about Barbara. Some speculated on how she died. Some spent lots of time at their computers trying to get more information. Some wondered if she suffered, though it appears that she died instantly. Some of us just went for walks.

I’d mentioned earlier that the president of Womantours came to spend time with us. We had a joint dinner with groups #1 and #2, because the end of their layover coincided with the beginning of ours. The next day, Saturday, we had a 2pm meeting of just our group #2 to talk more about this tragedy and to see how people were doing. By then I just wanted to get out of there. I already didn’t feel safe on route 2. Three people of the 28 were making plans to go home, and although I wanted to bolt out of there myself, I couldn’t get travel arrangements to work.

Later, sitting at my computer in the motel room, I heard three sharp knocks at my door. It was Carolyn. “I’m here to invite you to a party in my room.” So I went, and as I sat down, I saw that it was a wine and cheese gathering with all the SAG drivers, my current roommate, and another biker friend. Nancy began, “Lynn, we want you to know that we want you to stay, and we don’t want you to leave the group.” I became a puddly mess, crying and laughing at their thoughtfulness. They said if I hadn’t agreed to come to their “party,” they all would have ganged up on me and made me come. They called it an intervention. Nicest intervention I could have imagined. They told me to sag the whole way to Fargo if I wanted; just stay with the group.

Looking back, that was the turning point of a really, really horrible event. I did choose not to bike on Sunday, not only as my own way of affirming life, but also because that stupid highway was scary even when I had survived biking it and Barbara had not. I didn’t need to do any more of it.

On Sunday, everybody wore their Womantours jerseys, along with black necklaces in a show of solidarity with Barbara. They all cycled out of town en masse, and I took pictures of them before climbing into the van as a passenger for the day. I noticed as we later passed them, that everybody was biking in groups of three or four. Many of us usually prefer biking alone, but not on that day.

Today, Monday, I did bike the 81 miles, and the light-hearted tone had begun to return among all of us. The scenery was lovely, and the sky was moody, with grey clouds punctuated by a few streaks of lightning, even at 8:30 am. Interestingly, as we biked toward the direction of the lightning, the clouds moved to our left, and we escaped showers altogether.

And this brings me back to our lunch together at mile 50. I don’t know if it’s because we have only three more biking days after today, or because Barbara’s death gave us pause, but nobody biked like bats out of hell today. We savored the ride, the lunch, the company of good people, and the chance to be silly, swaying to the music of Bob Dylan.

IN MEMORIUM, BARBARA MINNICK

Where you are now, it's always sunny, in the low 70's, with a gentle tailwind, a wide shoulder, light traffic, and you get to call to others as you pass them, "On your left!"

DAYS 31, 32, AND 33

DAY 31

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Spirit Lake (St. Michael’s) to Carrington, ND

50 miles

Spirit Lake is the Casino/Resort where we stayed last night in St. Michael’s, ND. And Spirit Lake is also another name for Devil’s Lake. It’s one of the only non-man-made lakes we’ve seen, and since it has no source or run-off, it’s supposedly a salt lake. All we noticed was the yellowish-green, almost iridescent color of algae around the shore. The hotel was nice, and there was also an adjoining deluxe RV campground, with permanent cement pads for the RV’s and green lawns and landscaping. Another world.

The highlight of the day, for me, was biking through Sheyenne (yes, with an S), a small town with one grain elevator on the right side of the road. I noticed a small sign in front of it with an arrow pointing left. When I looked left, all I saw was a Taxidermy Shop.


But I’m always up for a morning coffee, so I got off the bike, and looked in the window of the entrance. A sign said, “Internet Café.” Well, this made me curious, so I proceeded inside with Laura. We found ourselves in a newly pine-paneled coffee shop in the front, and in the back, ropes leading us on a path through a taxidermist’s delight: specimens of elk, moose, black bear, deer, a grizzly bear, and God knows what else, all perched in naturalized habitats. When you got over the fact that it was all a little weird, you couldn’t help but laugh.

Further discussion with three nice women working there revealed the story of the place: the town had lost its school, but didn’t want to lose the whole town. People there decided to re-purpose the school into a not-for-profit hunting and fishing lodge. They wrote a grant proposal, and got a grant to pay for a new roof for the school. in order to raise more funds for the lodge development ,about twenty women now staff this café on a volunteer basis, calling themselves the Sisterhood of the Traveling Crockpots,. Sure enough, while we were there, one of the “sisters” showed up bearing a crockpot for today’s lunch. I have no idea how North Dakota’s health laws work. But I digress. They serve about 70 lunches a day, usually only open between 11 am and 1 pm. We arrived before then, and had delicious rhubarb cake with pink coconut frosting and a cup of coffee, all for $1. We told them they needed to charge real prices if they hoped to get this thing off the ground.

But the best part was the T-shirt we bought for $10 apiece, with the name of the place: the Wild Things Taxidermy and Spicy Road Kill Café. We each gave them a $20 and told them to keep the change. When we asked to use the restroom, they directed us to the back, through doors that opened into (cringe) the taxidermy lab on the left and restrooms on the right. The guy was working on a deer. I think this might very well be the oddest bit of Americana we’ve encountered, but the women were so proud of their venture, and clearly got a kick out of visitors’ reactions, that you couldn’t help but share in their enthusiasm.

DAY 32

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Carrington to Mayville, ND

91.8 miles, of which I biked 49

It seemed like a good idea at the time. The Carrington Inn and Suites served homemade donuts as the main part of their motel breakfast. Of course, Linda had the usual oatmeal and eggs at the trailer to be sure we had enough protein for energy to bike. But really… homemade donuts?? We just don’t get these every day. So that’s what I had for breakfast. I should also add that I had only slept for 5 hours the night before. Put together, that’s a bad formula for enough energy to bike 92 miles in a day. In biker parlance, I “bonked.” I just had no energy at all, and my legs felt like dead weight. In addition, there were a lot of trucks on the road that day, and the back third of us all felt a bit skittish. So, five of us called it a day at mile 49 when the van came by and loaded our bikes on top.

Meanwhile, it was an odd day for a couple of others, too. Jane took this picture of Ellen, seen here, ducking. Double-click on it to see it in better detail. File it under: One Damn Thing After Another.


Ellen saw the crop dusting plane, thought it was just buzzing the group of bikers to say hello, so she stopped to take an overhead picture of it. Suddenly, she realized that it was actually landing on the road behind her!! Its wingspan was wider than the road itself. It’s definitely time to go home.

Mayville is the home of Mayville State University, which might look more like a community college around home, and much of it was under construction or renovation, with lots of wire fencing, so I couldn’t use the library there. I had gone to the town library and asked where the newspapers were. It was a sweet old library with library smells and old oak woodwork. But the librarian replied, “We don’t have any. You’ll have to go to the college.” Whoever heard of a library with no newspapers? So Mayville proved to be a newspaper-unfriendly town.

DAY 33

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Mayville to Fargo, ND!!!

59.8 miles

Well, it rained some and we had a headwind against us all day. Most of the day I biked with Sue, and as we got into the Fargo area, the corn and wheat and soybean fields gave way to roads leading to North Dakota State University, the airport and downtown. We kept looking for a Fargo sign to hoist our bikes in a grand finale, but there wasn’t any! The closest we came was this one for a photo opp:

Not satisfied, we asked a guy at an adjacent gas station, “Aren’t there any Welcome to Fargo signs around here?” He thought a minute and said we might try biking over the Red River into Minnesota, and then come back over the bridge again. He thought there was probably a green Fargo sign there. You’ll have to see the next blog entry to find out whether we satisfied this goal. (There will be two more entries: one of pictures of the trip, and one describing some of the riders I’ve enjoyed for the past five weeks).

We found the bike shop to leave our bikes for shipping. Felt funny to walk away without them. In the parking lot there was this bike, evidently on a very long journey, with even its orange safety flags faded in color.



Later as we sat in a downtown restaurant window, we saw the bike back on the road, along with another equally loaded down tandem. It turned out to be a family of five, doing a self-supported trip! The three kids appeared to range from about age 7 to 12. Wow, and we thought we had accomplished something big!

In the evening, we had a final banquet at the Radisson, which was in Fargo’s downtown. Fargo was surprisingly bustling and even a bit urban. The banquet was fun, and we toasted the guides and the sag drivers, and though we didn’t talk a lot about Barbara, we agreed that she was there, too.

DAY 27
Friday, July 16, 2010
New Town (via van trip first to Stanley) to Minot, ND
54 miles

We got ferried in the van back to Stanley this morning, and since our (slower) group’s vanload arrived last at the previous hotel, our bikes remained on top of the van overnight. “And the last shall be first,” as they say, so we headed out in the van first today, and started biking ahead of the faster group.

On the way, I detoured to Berthold for coffee and a caramel roll. The coffee shop was decorated as nicely as my Mom has decorated her sewing room. I overheard a conversation in which a guy described helping out at his daughter’s church fair in Wisconsin.
“Do you know they had games and rides, and even beer? Whoever heard of a church having beer at a family festival??”
“Well, they are a bit more liberal in Wisconsin than we are here.”
“And then by the end of it, when we were cleaning up, they told us we were having too much fun, and that was the end of that. They never had beer again!”

I biked along pretty purple fields of flax, and yellow fields of rape seed (used to make canola oil) today. Other than that, not too much to write. We’re in Minot at a Comfort Inn for two nights, smack in the heart of “big box” stores. Minot’s not that big, but there’s an Air Force Base here that feeds the economy.

Anyway, here’s my favorite recipe that Linda has made at the trailer on this trip. Keep in mind that it feeds 30!

CUBAN CHICKEN STEW
8 lb chicken thighs
¾ C flour
1 tsp salt
½ tsp pepper
1 tsp paprika
½ C olive oil
3 chopped onions
3 chopped bell peppers
¼ C minced garlic
1 TB minced fresh oregano
1 C chopped cilantro
Salt and pepper
¾ C tomato sauce
1 C chopped green olives
½ C drained capers
¾ C raisins
1 ½ C red wine

Mix flour, S & P, and paprika
Dredge thighs and shake off excess.
Brown in ½ oil on all sides.
Remove and drain fat, add rest of oil, onion, peppers, and cook to soft.
Add garlic, oregano, and cilantro.
Season with S & P. Stir in tomato sauce, olives, capers, raisins and wine.
(Add a little chicken broth for more sauce).
Return chicken and juices and simmer until completely tender, about 1 hour.

Veggie version: Omit chicken, use veggie broth, tofu and beans.

Serve over rice.


DAY 28
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Zero miles – a layover day in Minot, ND

Peggy and I took our bikes to the mall next door, where there’s a sports store with a really good bike shop. She had to have her rear hub re-packed since it was leaking fluid. And I needed to get a new chain, since mine had gotten old and stretched. The upside of this is that I didn’t have to clean my bike and chain today!

At the bike store I also bought this stuff called Chamois Butt’r, which sort of speaks for itself. I never knew it existed before this trip, but fellow riders had given me welcome gifts of little packets of it earlier in the ride. We have gotten to know each other’s ailments quite well. “Hey Kit, how are your hemorrhoids?” someone will yell across the parking lot. “Are your abrasions any better?” “Did the sinus antibiotics kick in?” There’s not much decorum to be found, but it’s always with a lot of caring. We’re a motley crew, and I’d guess in normal life we might not have found each other as friends, but on this ride we certainly have.

Peggy and I took a walk in nearby neighborhoods this morning, and stopped at a few yard sales. Later on, I got a haircut at the mall. In the evening, several of us went next door to the Alaska Grill for steaks and ate outside. Jackie, the owner of the biking company, is with us for a few nights, so she and her sister ate with us.


DAY 29
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Minot to Rugby, ND
67 miles that I cheated by riding in the van

No pictures for a few days now, since the countryside is very consistently prairie and pasture and fields. Today was our last day to ride on Route 2, which most recently has been a 4-lane divided highway with a 70 mph speed limit. Since the shoulder has been of varying widths, I just haven’t felt as safe as I’d like while riding. So today, I didn’t.
Since our total mileage will be more like 1800+ miles than the previously expected 1600 miles, I’ve relaxed about biking every mile. I’m glad that starting tomorrow, we’re all done with Route 2, and group #1 has passed on great enthusiasm for the scenery in store for us.

DAYS 25 AND 26

Day 25
July 14, 2010
Culbertson to Williston
44 miles

Great tailwind. Left at 7:55am, and arrived in Williston, ND at 10:40am (or at 11:40 am, with new time change upon entering North Dakota).

Several of us had lunch at Gramma Sharon’s Restaurant, adjoining the motel. Afterward, Juani and I took a long walk around this suburban-sprawl town, spending some time in a local bookstore. It was too windy for cooking at the trailer, so we ate at the same restaurant again for supper. We had a tough young waitress, about 22, I'd guess, (probably in training to work at Durgin Park in Boston) who thought it was some “rude joke” that all 28 of us said to put our tab on Linda’s bill. They ran out of baked potatoes, and she told Rebecca,”I brought you mashed potatoes ‘cause that's what we have." She brought plates with carrots and toast to our table, though the vegetable was of the day was supposed to be peas, and said, “we don’t have peas; just deal with the carrots, okay?” She'll be one tough cookie when she's older!

Here's my roommate Peggy, a nurse, who along with Penny, decided I needed to get in the van when I wasn't biking well after my bike crash:













And these are two pictures of entering North Dakota: one of me, and the other of Cheryl, my roommate on July 15th:

And here's my still fat thumb!


Day 26
July 15, 2010
Williston to New Town, via Stanley
71.14 miles in 4 hours, 25 minutes! Includes three sag breaks, too!
Another great tailwind day, except for the first 14 miles going northbound, in which we had rough crosswinds.

Interesting day today, with a major deviation from the plan. I can only imagine the logistics that go into planning for biking, meals, lodging, days off, and safe roads for 28 people, for 33 days. Also, our group is called Northern Tier #2, and Northern Tier #1 left Anacortes just one day before we did. This has proven to be really advantageous to our group, since #1 has scouted out the best detours for cinnamon rolls, alerted us to grouchy innkeepers, etc. Well, yesterday, #1 encountered narrow roads through bucolic scenery, which was fine at the time the route and trip were planned. But since that time, oil companies have conducted exploration for new sites and have dug new oil wells, all of which have brought in a lot of trucks and rigs and other heavy equipment on the planned route.

Yesterday the North Dakota Highway Patrol intercepted group #1 and told them they couldn’t ride on those roads due to heavy truck traffic. They had to load bikes on top of their van and ferry the group in multiple trips to the hotel. Michelle scouted out the roads last night for our group, and confirmed that there were about 20 trucks passing in any five-minute period on the previously planned route. Forget that! So she came up with a new cue sheet this morning that had us on route 2 most of the day today. It’s a four-lane road with a divided median, but it had terrific new paving and a WIDE shoulder for most of the day. The only problem is that it didn’t go to New Town, which is where our lodging is tonight. So we biked on it to Stanley, and then waited at the Painted Pony Café/Motel/Drive-Thru Liquor Store. As we trickled in, Michelle loaded bikes atop the van for our fastest group, and then drove them from Stanley to New Town, 32 miles away. Then she drove back to Stanley to repeat the process and get the rest of us.

Had a nice leisurely grilled cheese sandwich and iced coffee with half of the group as we waited. At one of the sag stops for snacks and water, I had told everybody to stand together for a picture, since by now we have bonded as the non-competitive, slower, but "more appreciative of our surroundings" group. Everybody got into it, and once again piped up, "Oooh! Oooh! Wait til I get my camera, too!" So the sag stop probably took twice as long as usual, but we laughed a lot. Here's a picture of my buddies and me, all of whom plus a few others, were in the second van leaving Stanley to go to New Town:


Earlier in the day, I stopped to take a picture of my bike with this hay bale to show you how big the hay bales are out here. They line them up on trucks, like strings of beads about 50 feet long, two "strings" wide, and a third row on top. Wish I had a picture of a loaded truck to show you, but you'll have to use your imagination. These truck loads are enormous!



At the Painted Pony Cafe, this sign was on the side of the building, and evidently, this is pretty common out west:

And lastly, here's Michelle, loading all of our bikes on top of the van for the trip to New Town, from Stanley.

I'm always bemused to discover where they're putting us up. Tonight we're at a resort/casino! It's actually really nice, and due to the windy conditions, we ate dinner in the resort at the buffet, so once again, no cooking at the trailer with our white plastic chairs in a circle. People are starting to talk about going home soon, and speculating about what that will be like. One recalled that on a previous ride a woman said she thought the hardest part would be not putting out her white plastic chair in her driveway and waiting to be served her dinner. :)

Good night for now!
Lynn

DAYS 23 AND 24

DAY 23
Monday, July 12, 2010
Glasgow to Wolf Point, MT
53.4 miles minus the 40 miles I “bumped”

This wasn't a good day. Three miles into the day, I collided with a bike in front of me and was thrown from my bike. While the bike remained on the shoulder of the road, once my shoes released from the pedals, I landed in the grass, hitting the ground elbows first. Both of my elbows were scraped, and my right thumb was sore and tingly. But checking to see how my collision-mate fared proved to be pretty scary, since the other woman Barbara (the oldest in the group at 71, riding on a recumbent bike) was thrown and just lay there, face down, for what seemed like an awfully long time. You know how, when you watch football on TV and a player is injured and just lies there? It was like that. She made no response to people’s voices calling her name. Her breathing sounded sort of gurgly. By then there were a lot of us around her. Finally, she blinked an eye, moaned, and then said she just wanted to get up. It felt like all this took about four minutes, though it was probably half of that or less. Her lip was cut badly and bloody, but many who have biked with her on other tours said, "She's a tough old bird, and she's fallen a lot on other trips, too."


(This is Barbara on her recumbent, before the collision).

The whole thing freaked me out, though, and I thought for a few moments that I'd killed her! Once I knew Barbara was okay, I had a weepy meltdown, biked another 10 miles, sniffling and blowing my nose all the way, until the two women I was biking with said, "We're going to stay with you here until the van comes by. You are not safe biking. You're slower than usual, your head is down, you're not looking around, and your shoulders are slumped."

"NooooOOOOO!" I wailed. "I'm fine. I know I'm slower, but I'm staying on the shoulder, and I’m not wobbling. I just need to stop for a couple of minutes!" Fortunately, they prevailed, and they were right. I was exhausted after the adrenalin rush faded from the collision. So I hitched a ride in the van to the motel (I bumped, as they call it), and slept for two hours. Felt much better, once I got over the fact that there are now 40 miles on this bike ride that I didn't ride. And I took a lot of comfort in a bunch of hugs at dinner, with reassurances that they'd had to bump now and then, too.


DAY 24
Wednesday, July 13, 2010
Wolf Point to Culbertson, MT
57.2 miles
With a west wind at our backs!

What a contrast today was, compared to yesterday! The temperatures were in the 70’s, and the wind was at our back the entire way. Here are all the bikes, leaning against the motel as we had breakfast, pumped tires, etc. I left Wolf Point at 7:40 am, and got to Culbertson about 12:10, after a sag stop, a pit stop, and a break for coffee in Poplar. Zoom! Amazing how competent the wind can make you feel.

When I stopped in Poplar, the only restaurant was a bar/restaurant, and at 9am, there were already people at the bar. I sat in the restaurant area, and the waitress said the bar opened at 8 am. She’s from Iowa, and she said it’s not like that back home. I told her it wasn’t like that in Massachusetts, either.

Leaving Poplar, there was glass by the side of the road, and a stray dog growled and chased after me, both dismaying signs of the quality of life on the Fort Peck Indian Reservation land where I was. Later, in Culbertson, I spoke with a cop who policed both Wolf Point and Poplar, and he said there are frequent murders in these "res" towns, the most recent being a young soldier about to be deployed to Afghanistan. He’d been stabbed twenty-six times in Poplar, and they buried him last weekend.

We came upon this church as we biked along, and it was a good place for a break. Just behind it was a sign pointing to a place where Lewis and Clark had landed while traveling on the Missouri River in 1805. There was a cemetery, too, with small wooden crosses marking graves rather than tombstones. And many were also marked with bouquets of plastic flowers.




In Culbertson, Montana, we went to the town’s all-purpose store, where you can get furniture, large and small appliances, hardware, toys, candles, Huffy bicycles, cross-bows, saddles, guns and ammo, mixing bowls, and my personal favorite: a clam and oyster knife! (Why??)

DAY 21 AND 22

DAY 21

Saturday, July 10, 2010

From Havre, MT to Malta, MT

91.8 miles

Today began seven days of biking without a day off, and it's a bit daunting to think of. The first 46 miles today were great, with a tailwind helping along. We'd completed that by 9:30 a.m., and I'd even taken a short detour to the town of Chinook for coffee and a perfectly baked sticky bun at 7:30 am. Since it was Saturday morning, I thought I'd catch some local conversation at the coffee shop. There were three pick-up trucks in front, but it was just three older guys: two involved in conversation, and the third who asked me, "What kind of miles per gallon you get with that bike?" He told me he's been studying alternative energy, but then it got a little weird. He said there's this power source that's about the size of a football that operates on "permanent magnets," and generates 300 horsepower of energy constantly, but that the car companies, oil companies, and the government don't want to let it be developed and marketed. Hmmm.... I drank my coffee fast.

On the wall of the restaurant, there were pictures of all the local young men who were on active duty in the military, and there must have been more than 30 of them, though the whole town probably has only a few hundred people in all.

Around 10:30, the nice cool air we'd had to start our biking warmed considerably, and my speed went down. Then around noon, the wind direction changed, so that we had a cross-wind, which slowed speed and energy even more. By the end of the 91 miles, I was physically pooped, and my legs felt like lead.

We stayed in Malta, which is a depressed non-descript town that seems not to have much pride in itself. Funny vibe, and we all felt it. The capstone of the day was the siren we'd been warned about. It went off at 9:30 pm and serves as a curfew reminder for all the kids in the town. Long and loud and puzzling.

Here are some photos of the day: looking north, then east, then west, then south -- all from the same position on my bike

And here's a historic marker on route 2:

DAY 22

Sunday, July 11, 2010

From Malta to Glasgow

72 miles

Trains continue to pass by about every hour or so, and I love their whistles. Sometimes I pull on that old imaginary cord like a little kid, and the engineer will give me a toot. Another constant is the piercingly beautiful warble of the meadowlarks. One rider, Peggy, says her late Mom loved birds, so she feels her Mom's presence in the song of the meadowlarks. The scenery is starting to seem all pretty similar and a little boring, especially since there aren't many towns to break it up. It was raining when we started biking today. I did detour to Saco at 11:00 am, just in time to stop at the Assembly of God Church service (the Methodists were just finishing up). I stayed for about 25 minutes so that I wouldn't get too far behind the group and the SAG car. Anyway, a man named Steve greeted me. He had on a Western shirt and a huge silver buckle on his belt. And Hazel introduced herself. She had buried two husbands and figures that "the Lord wants me to be alone now." She moved to join me in the pew.

The service was sort of interesting, different than I've experienced. There were 22 people there, and they all live together in this little town of about 130 people. They shared what they were worried about and grateful for. Today, in the midst of haying season, they were grateful for the last night's moisture, and for the fact that the grasshoppers remained small (do grasshoppers have anything to do with haying?). One woman whose son refuses to listen to her, told of his riding bulls and being injured this week, but she was glad he wasn't more badly hurt than he was. There was a vulnerable and sweetly real quality about these souls, and I was glad to have attended.

Later in the day, a few people decided they'd ridden bikes enough for the day, so they sagged in. I came in toward the rear, but I biked to the motel on my own steam. We cleaned and lubed the bikes. Mine was grungy, since I'd skipped this procedure during our layover in Havre. For dinner, we had curried chicken, broccoli salad, fruit salad, and homemade improvised tiramisu at the back of the trailer. After dinner I went for a walk in the downtown, which is the county seat. Since it's Sunday night, it was all pretty quiet except for a train whistling as it passed through town.

DAY 18 AND 19-20

DAY 18

July 7, 2010

Cutbank, MT to Chester, MT

66? miles

There were two things today I really want to tell you about.

The first is about the escapades of Jane and Ellen, who are good friends and always bike together. Ellen is a kindergarten teacher in Vermont, and Jane is a former doctor, now in medical informatics. Jane also has knowledge of and an interest in government security procedures. So as they were biking, Jane spied an area down a dirt road perpendicular to route 2, and there was a metal fenced area, seemingly for no particular reason -- no animals confined, no crops, etc. But Jane knew. There was sort of a sattelite tower, but with a top that looked like a tuning fork. So they biked on the dirt road, leaned their bikes against the metal fence which, okay, did have a sign posted saying, "No trespassing. Property of U.S. Government." Whoosh!! Out of nowhere popped an FBI SUV with darkened windows that swung around and blocked their path. It stayed there, probably photographing these middle-aged subversives in bike shorts, then moved to the side of the path and stayed there as they slunk away on their bikes. Turned out it was an underground missile silo!! And as I biked the next day, now that I knew what to look for, I saw another one!

Contrasted with this was our arrival at the MX Motel in Chester, MT, which was the second thing I want to describe. We'd been prepared not to expect much, since at first they couldn't put all of us up, and Michelle was to have stayed in the "broom closet/shower room" with a cot moved in. They later said that a semi-regular guest there, a crop-dusting pilot, would stay with his sister so our whole group could have enough rooms, each with baths. Anyway, TJ and his wife have run this place for four years, but want to move to Misoula to be near grandkids if they can sell it. They've put a lot of money in it, and the "Executive Suites" with double jacuzzis that Penny and Jona had were the envy of all of us.

TJ owns a 1986 limousine, and after we had dinner in their very lovely backyard, he actually put on his genuine chauffeur's cap and gave us several limo rides around the town, pointing out that there were 8 churches and 4 bars, which he thought was a pretty good ratio. He pointed out the new town swimming pool with pride, and the K-12 school which draws from a 40-mile radius, as far as the Canadian border. He said houses, all smallish and tidy, generally sell for between $20,000 and $40,000. We had seen the downtown earlier upon arrival, eaten a late lunch

at Spud's Cafe, and also spent time in the public library, which has an espresso cafe. I thought to myself, "This place has more to do than Wenham!"

A bunch of us took an evening walk through the neighborhoods, seeing 13-year-old boys on bikes talking about their Dads with admiration, older boys shooting hoops with admiring girls nearby, and four "grownups" gathered in a small backyard roasting marshmallows at a firepit. We walked to the town's free museum, which I thought would be old, musty, and well, boring. It was anything but! It was filled with Americana -- WWI uniforms, old-style food containers in the "general store," manequins dressed in bridal gowns belonging to town residents from the 40's (made from the same McCall's sewing pattern, but embelleshed entirely differently), old sewing machines, medical implements and elixirs from long ago, a 1920's "kitchen" set up with a refrigerator and Hoosier cupboard, etc. There was a separate one-room schoolhouse that had been moved there, and each of the desks (all in rows) had child manequins dressed as the 1950's, one of them in a Girl Scout uniform. There was a big Dick and Jane reader, and those chalkboard gizmos that hold five pieces of chalk to draw musical notes, staff, etc.

I know this is a lot of narrative for one day, but at the end, we all pronounced it the most enchanting of towns and motels we'd visited.

DAY 19-20

Thursday, July 8, 2010

Chester, MT to Havre, MT

60 miles

We've had the Sweet Grass Hills to our left on the horizon for a day or two. Always, we have the railroad tracks, and there are lots of freight trains. Saw two Amtrak passenger trains, too. There are little towns with 50 to 200 people in them, just a quarter mile off the road on the left. Those having multiple grain elevators seem to prosper, while those with only one have not. They've lost their schools and stores, since trains with 100 cars or more won't stop for towns without lots of grain to load. Farmers were paid to grow prairie grass as a conservation measure signed in by Clinton before he left office, but then the farmers took the money they were paid, retired, and left.

I decided to stop at two or three of these little bitty towns to see what they're like, and had three really neat conversations.

Here's Dalton, beside his bar and lounge in Inverness.




It was 9 am, and as I drove into what's left of town, there were three rosy-cheeked overall-clad boys hosing down a combine. I asked where I could get a cup of coffee, and they pointed to this sketchy run-down bar. So I went in and met Dalton and his wife, and we talked about the decline of the town. He was curious about our biking, too. As I left, I asked if I could take his picture, and he said that would be all right. He also said, "I'll be 78 on Sunday," so as I snapped the picture, I said, "Happy Birthday, Dalton!" He clarified, "Well, on Sunday that is."

The next conversation was with Art Ogden, whose picture I didn't get. He was in Hingham,

MT which was distinguished by its tidy green yards and grid-like but unpaved roads throughout the town. At the town park, women were decorating with colored banners for the weekend's upcoming 100th birthday of the town, which has no school or store. (All of these towns are having 100th birthdays, since that's when the railroads were established here). I was biking by his house, and in his cowboy hat, he called out, "Are you bikin' so fer that you end up spendin' all yer money on food to keep you bikin'?" So we talked and I learned that he'd survived colon cancer in 1988 and later, three strokes. The third stroke last year found him having to learn to speak all over again, and he said, "When I found myself orderin' the woman around as usual, I figgered I was goin' to make it. Somebody up there doesn't want me."

I took a third detour to Gildford, and other bikers debating the same detour decided to, too, when they saw me turn. We stopped at the Merc, short for the Gildford Mercantile, run by a very chatty woman. She and her husband were from California, where he had health issues that had him "hooked up to machinery,"so his machine shop was going under, one of their parents died, and their two-year old had congestive heart failure (he's fine now). She talked about the power or prayer and coincidences that led them to leave CA, buy the store and start a new life. It's the only grocery for 30 miles, and her husband runs a machine shop downstairs, she runs the Merc, and they live upstairs. Their boys go to school across the street, and have lots of freedom to play and roam and go gopher hunting.

We're in Havre now (day 20) on our day off. Last night we had beef or veggie stroganoff as dinner choices at the trailer. After dinner, the motel shuttle took my current roommate Laura and me (we're assigned different roommates each night) to Walmart for more sunblock.

Today, I'm just catching up on this and later will go see the restored "Underground Havre, " which consists of bordellos, drug dens, and a place that Al Capone stayed. Other than that, Havre doesn't have much.