Once again, I'm aboard my favorite touring bike, a Waterford RS-11 set up as a fixed-gear. Looking around at the various bikes, I'm guessing that fixed-gear bicycles haven't really caught on here in ND. In fact, the rider of a recumbent tricycle here boasted 81 gear choices, from 14 to 158 inches. A little excessive, don't you think? Strangely, we spent some time riding together.
One of the first interesting stops was at the Old Scout Cemetery that had been put in its current place when Lake Sakakawea was created -- the old graveyard would've been drowned. We saw the headstone of Bloody Knife, who was Major Reno's interpreter at the battle of the Little Big Horn.
Oh, and we can't forget the uniquely identified Jiffy Jons that patrolled the route...
Today's final destination was Parshall, where we camped on the high school grounds. Across street from the high school was the Paul Broste Rock Museum, which we toured in the afternoon. Amazing guy, Broste. Artist, poet, rock collector. No wonder he never married -- too busy.
In Parshall, I met one of the fine characters of this trip -- Canada Bob. Bob likes to get up REALLY early and hit the road. Like 4am. And, since he beats nearly everyone to the next destination, he loves to ask subsequent arrivals, "Where's your note?". "Huh?", is the usual response, to which Bob says, "You're late! Where's your note?!"
Good food stops along the way today: sub sandwiches provided by Ray High School FCCLA, and burgers cooked at the Williston Lions stop. These folks had good timing -- their stops were positioned just about the time I ran out of gas.
I think that today was our first glimpse of the North Dakota Badlands.
Today was "century option" day, meaning that there was an optional 25 mile round trip, out-and-back spur to a turn-around point just south of Tioga. This spur opened with about three miles of climbing, followed by some gentle rollers. At the turn around point, I met some other bikers who knew of a "Dairy Kreem" kind of place in Tioga, so I followed along the additional miles into town. A cheeseburger and strawberry shake is just the kind of fuel needed to complete a century.
On the way back, I made another stop at the Williston Lions' rest stop. It was really impressive -- park your bike in a rack near the road, then catch a ride on a golf cart down to the "circus tents" where the Lions were grilling burgers and serving snacks.
Freshly filled with more food, the ride to Lewis and Clark state park was pretty and fun. The last few hills into the park were doozies, both up and down. It's nice to have two brakes on the fixed-gear -- it helps keep my hips from unscrewing on the downhills.
The next stop was at a warm and friendly place in Trenton -- the 1804 Country Store. Bunches of bikers gathered inside the store and outside on its porch to get out of the rain and warm up. In this picture, you can see some bikers fashioning rainwear from trashbags. Seeing that the rain wasn't letting up any, we pressed on towards Fairview, MT, passing up the opportunity to visit Fort Buford, which was a few miles off the route.
Upon arriving in Fairview, MT, we made a bee-line for the Prince Albert hotel/casino/restaurant/lounge, where we found the first Good Beers of the week -- Guinness and Fat Tire. Mmmm... We ordered up lunch, and then another round of beers. The overnight location had been changed (thankfully) from the city park to the high school because of the inclement weather.
One of the sights-to-see in Fairview was this Lift Bridge.
Well...the quiet suggestion turned into a mob scene. By 9:30am, the little cafe was packed with wet, cold, hungry bikers. The staff numbered one. That woman, Barb, seemed awed (shocked? freaked?) by the onslaught of lycra and spandex. I offered to help, telling her I could cook. She said she had called her daughter, Amber, to help, and she should be there soon, and pointed me into the kitchen. The first order was a #1 OE Saus (two eggs over easy, link sausage, hash browns and toast). My training had begun, and my Sambo's past flashed back. Other cyclists came into the kitchen to help also: Melanie shredded hashbrowns, formed hamburger patties, did dishes; Dawn did some dishes and took an order or two; others came back to fetch coffee, help with dishes, take pictures, and some, to watch their food cook. With Amber's help and direction (and patience!), I ended up cooking the breakfast rush and the lunch rush for a BUNCH of cyclers. I put down the spatula around 2:00pm. Hungry and tired, and wanting to cook something for MY face, I asked Amber, "What's good around here?" She said, "You should know." I picked cheeseburger-with-grilled-onions-only and pecan pie. Yeah...
By the time we mounted up, the weather had cleared, though there was now a strong wind out of the southeast. 2 J's Cafe provided a turning point for the day's ride. Cyclers went from cold to warm, hungry to fed, and the rain stopped. On to Watford City...
Canada Bob hit the road early for the last time today -- he rode back to Garrison (160 miles) so he could get his vehicle, come back and get his bags, then head off to Illinois for another ride. Hey Bob, where's your note?
Today is the day for the hills we've been hearing about. There were two fairly short but steep ones around the 24-mile mark, and a 3-mile long uphill, with lots of switchbacks, around the 42 mile mark. These hills were just this side of what the fixed-gear can do -- if they were just a little steeper, I would have been walking.
The payback for these uphills was the tremendous scenery of North Dakota's Badlands. The hills here look, in places, like some giant cake server cut away a chunk of the mountain to reveal the many layers of rock. It's just beautiful.
One of the most timely stops was the "Filly-Upper" rest stop located after the climbs and about 10 miles out from Killdeer. They were grilling hamburgers and hot dogs and serving powerade. Meat -- it does a body good.
This was one of the toughest days of riding that I'd ever encountered. And, one of the most beautiful.
After yesterday's hills, today was comparatively flat. The weather stayed dry, and even hot near the end. The rolling hills reminded me of the Kansas Flint Hills.
Many people noticed the fixed-gear today. Almost all asked, "Why?" The best demonstration I can offer is to yank my feet out of the pedals and say, "Look, the pedals go around all by themselves!" Quite a selling point. Maybe we'll get some converts. Maybe not.
This evening's overnight location was at a beautiful city park on the river on the outskirts of Beulah. These resourceful fellas brought their own pool and flamingos. From the park, it was just a short ride to the bottle shop, where I picked up a six-pack of Guinness and a small bag of ice. The beer went in the handlebar bag and the ice got bungeed to my saddle. Let me tell you: this combination significantly impacts the handling of the bike.
After the celebratory dinner of buffalo brats and pasta salad, we rode the last 3 miles back to the original camp at Ft. Stevenson State Park to find the car, bags and showers.
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