More about wind

Sunday, 29 June: The wind was blowing in the same direction today as it was yesterday, but with much less intensity. It was like Richard Grieco to yesterday's Jonny Depp. So it wasn't really too noticeable, but I think it was helping me a bit, since I made pretty good time.

On the way out of Towner, ND, I met three cyclists headed east who had stayed the night in Granville, the next town to the west. There had been some kind of shindig in the park, and they had not only gotten free food, but an evening of playing Mexican Train as well. I will admit to being a bit jealous. I went on to Rugby, ND, which is the geographic center of North America. Woo! It is also where the Adventure Cycling route diverges from my route. Gone are the days of meeting new cyclists daily. I spent way too much time in town looking for the grocery store, making phone calls, making last minute route decisions, and eating a peanut buster parfait. Yum!

I went to a rest stop, where some touring motorcyclist talked my ear off for awhile. I've noticed a certain amount of solidarity amongst the two-wheeled tourers. There's generally a honk or a wave when they pass. Most of the regular motorcyclists don't acknowledge me, however. They're too cool for that, riding along with no helmets. Yup, ND, like MT, has no helmet law, but riding with your noggin exposed seems much more prevalent here than in MT. That's surprising, since I always think of MT as the lawless state full of freedom-loving libertarians. Maybe too many rich out-of-staters have bought property there, and they all wear their helmets... Also, more people smoke the further east I go. And the accent is getting stronger-- I can tell I'm getting closer to MN. But I digress. Like five times. So this guy is yapping away, and I said at least three times that I'd better get on the road, and I put my helmet, mirror and gloves on, but he kept talking. I finally got a little more stern about needing to make my destination before dark, and walked away. I was about to put my backpack on when my phone rang, and I got to talk to someone I had tried to reach earlier in the day. So if that guy had shut it sooner, I would have already been riding and missed the call. I guess everything works out for the best...

I reached Leeds, that town the woman from Towner had told me about, that had a lovely park where more cyclists used to camp before the Adventure Cycling route changed. Those guys have some serious pull. I wasn't ready to quit riding yet for the day, but I wanted to check it out and have some food. Boy am I glad I wanted to keep moving! I haven't seen that much trash on the ground since the last time I went to Mexico. And there were big holes in the walls of the buildings that I assume housed the bathrooms. In all fairness, it looked like someone had dumped a garbage can and strewn the trash around, so maybe it isn't always *that* bad, but I realized that now that I had left the official route, there was no friendly competition between neighboring towns to have the nicest park for the cyclists. I'm on my own now.

I rode on to my destination, Churchs Ferry, which is more of a fly on the map than a town-- too small for phone reception. It being Sunday evening and a bit buggy, I had a hard time finding someone who could tell me where it was okay to camp, but I did eventually, and am now set up in a camping area with no facilities, but there are water taps. I probably could have camped just about anywhere, but I want to be on good terms with the locals. A couple of blocks away there are a couple of sani-cans left over from the town's 125 year celebration recently, and they even have toilet paper in them still, so I opted for that over squatting on my exposed patch of grass. All the comforts of home... It's pretty buggy, so I followed j.'s "live in deet, handy wipe bath before bed" suggestion, which is easier tonight when I have no shower, so I am not faced with the prospect of putting stinky goo on after a nice shower.

Monday, 30 June: I stopped by the post office this morning before I left, and found out that a few years ago the town was in danger of flooding, so FEMA bought out everyone except two people who refused to go. That's why it seems extra empty. And I could have pretty much camped anywhere.

I rode about twenty miles to Devils Lake, because I had this idea of staying by the lake and waiting for the wind to be blowing from the south, because I want to go north. I've decided to head up to another route that will take me more directly to my Uncle's place in northern Minnesota, before 2 heads south too much further and adds more miles to my trip. Today the wind is blowing from the WSW, with an intensity between that of yesterday and the day before, so to stick with the analogy it's... I dunno... Holly Robinson? It is somewhat helpful on the way to Devils Lake, but the road kinda heads south there, so it's a good crosswind, too. You didn't expect this blog to turn into a daily prairie wind report, did you? Tomorrow the wind will be either from the north or the west, depending on your source, but neither will be as helpful to me heading north as today's wind. I could stick around here and see what happens the day after tomorrow, as was my plan, but I don't really like it here. It's not seedy or anything, but everyone seems kinda grumpy and unhelpful. I wish I had just headed north from Churchs Ferry, that would have been an even shorter trip, but now I know...

So I'm kinda heading into the unknown-ish, and I'm not sure if I'll get any cell reception for a few days. Don't fret!

Pilates Schmilates

Saturday, 28 June: Today there was a strong wind blowing from the NNW. When I was headed due east, I got a little boost from it while it tried to blow me off the road. When the road headed to the north at all, my silver lining was lost. When the road turned more to the north, it was super lame. It was a full body workout trying to stay out of the gravel. I got a good core workout, and tired pretty quickly. Because the wind was both strong and gusty, I got blown off numerous times. I really didn't like that, because there was a ledge at the edge of the concrete, and then gravel. Every time it happened, I thought I was going to fall when exiting or entering the concrete, or on the gravel. But I managed to stay up.

I got to a small town and inquired about camping in the park. The woman at the minimart said it was ok, and then told me about the town she was from, which is about a day's ride from here (wind dependant, of course) which has a lovely park where I can camp. Nice!

A couple of guys from the northwest showed up to camp, so I had some company for the evening. We discussed the towns we had been to, the food we eat, the people we've met, and sweaty bum rash. Good times.

They made really good time in the tailwind yesterday, so I am still kicking myself just a little for taking the day off...

Being Girly

Friday, 27 June: The sun was out and the wind was blowing hard from west to east. I kicked myself for already deciding to take the day off, but I have to stop regretting every decision I make. If I had rode, I might have made 800 miles with that wind, but I also might have gotten more sore and cranky and wished I had stayed in town.

I dropped off my bike at the bike shop-- no cute bike discount here, they are way busy and can't even check it out while I wait-- for a check-up, since I am not a mechanic, and have put 1500 loaded miles on it since I left, some of it on very rough road. I'll feel better knowing it's been looked at.

I went to the library, which is huge and open for many many hours, and picked up a bus schedule, then went down to the mall. Yes. I went to the mall, on purpose. I found a cute bathing suit at JCPenney, which was on sale, of course. That store never disappoints me. No luck finding pants that I like more than the ones I have, so I picked up a belt. Now I can retire that makeshift rope belt I was using to hold my pants up. I also got a few other things I needed, then caught the last bus at 4:19. Sigh. At least they have a bus system at all... I went to a Chinese buffet/sushi/mongolian grill restaurant, and-- holy diver!-- there's tofu! Sweet sweet tofu! It's been eight weeks since I've partaken of its guilt-free proteiny goodness. I loaded up on tofu and veggies, and told myself it was most definitely not a wasted day. It was pretty tough walking two or three miles back to the hotel with a giant chinese food baby, but I got through it with the help of another good hour long phone call.

I think I've had enough city time now to last until I get to Chicago.

Yup. I'm a cheating cheater who cheats.

Thursday, 26 June: When I left today, it was sunny, the shoulder was huge, and Glenda the Good Wind was at my back. Before too long, the dark, ominous clouds gathered and the storms set in. This wasn't like before, where there were a few distinct storms in the distance. This was darkness, as far as the eye could see, in every direction. I rode for as long as I could, since I had the wind and the electrical activity didn't seem too frequent or close. Eventually, though, it was rainy enough that visibility was poor, and the shoulder was small at that point. I didn't want to get run over, so I pulled off and huddled to wait it out. Then the hail started, and the wind was so strong... Yeeouch. Another good samaritan offered me shelter in his truck. Shortly, the worst seemed to have passed, so I got back to riding, only to discover that the wind had changed direction. I was now soaked, cold, hungry, fighting a headwind, and miles from any sort of shelter. And it was still raining. Blurg.

The wind eventually lessened, but my heart was not in the ride today. All I could think about was hot food and shelter. When a kind man in a pickup, Rick, offered me a ride, I said "Yes, please" and hopped in. I rode about 15 or 20 miles with him, to the town of Tioga, where he was headed for work stuff, and where the hotel was full. The hotel guy told me where to camp, and Rick, who was nice enough to wait while I checked at the hotel, drove me over there. It was kinda lame, and still wet, and I had gotten my mind set on a hotel. Cuz cranky wet girls need hotels! Rick dropped me at a restaurant to get some warm food and wait for him to head home to Minot when he finished work. I'm way more of a cheater then the Germans, but I'm only cutting out one and a half or two days of riding, and then I can get a hotel and Chinese food and shop for a new bathing suit because the old one is falling off... I think I might be having city withdrawal. I did not expect that. Also, I'm still sore, and need another rest day. Justify, justify, justify... I'm still travelling and meeting people... That was the point, right?

As I was sitting in the restaurant, the song "Bicycle" by Queen came on the completely awesome radio station. 101.1, if you are ever near Tioga. Not sure what the range is. For those of you who don't know, the song goes "I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride my bike..." I felt another twinge of guilt about accepting the ride, but why do I feel guilt? I'm the only person this decision affects. And I am accountable to no one.

On the ride to Minot, I realize that I seriously missed nothing. The ride was hilly, with poor shoulders and bumpy pavement. There were hardly any towns. I've had plenty of that on this ride, and will get plenty more. Although, according to the Harvard boys, things will be flatter east of Minot.

Rick took me home to meet his wife Sue, who I really liked, and three of their grandkids that she was babysitting. Then he drove me to the cheap motel I had picked, but it must have been too late, because no one was in the office. He then drove me to a nearby cheap motel, where there were people, and I got a room. I had already paid for a single, and the woman handed me a key for a second floor room, and I said I really needed a first floor room, because of my bike, so she stuck me in another room. It's a double. I want to jump back and forth between the beds...

This is one of the worst cheap motels I've stayed in yet. The shower curtain has the nastiest case of mildew I've ever seen outside of a college student's house. There is electrical tape wrapped around the faucet. The chairs are stained, and the washcloth tore when I wrung it out. But it's all good, I have flip-flops and a deadbolt, and the bedding smells okay, and that's all I need. I may even stay an extra day. I was having thoughts earlier of wanting to buy some smaller clothes in town and what-not, but now I feel like just laying around and doing nothing. My muscles are sore, and my skin seems to be having a rashy reaction to being wet all day. I liberally applied Gold Bond powder and relaxed in bed with the Daily Show. Aah.

I miss Culbertson...

Tuesday, 24 June: Rest day. I picked up a package that my "uthah muthah" sent to me general delivery. It actually works! Then I chatted for about an hour with a lonely old man. He talked my ear off. He started out with the standard grumpy old man rants: the world is getting worse, it's so dangerous out there, so much crime, politicians are all screwing the taxpayers... I can't say I disagree with that last one, but I think the other perceptions may be a product of too much tv news. He asked what kind of work I did before I left. When I said I had done bacterial genetics research, he said "oh, you're one of those smart women!" Not smart people. Smart WOMEN. I chuckled and said I guessed I was. He told me about 42 stories about his life. It was fun chatting at first, but after a while started to feel like a public service. I stuck it out for a while longer, since I'm camping in the park for free, I might as well do some community service, right? But then it was all too much, and I attempted to make a graceful exit. That's actually pretty difficult to do when you are in the Saturday club. Where do I have to be? After two or three more stories I escaped.

The weather started out cloudy, then turned to rain, then a thunderstorm with hail, then got sunny. I spent the stormy part of the day at the library, computing and reading Newsweek. It's rare to take a day off in a small town that not only has a library-- with computers-- but to also have it be a day that the library is open. Lucky me! Most of the small town libraries I see are only open two days a week (this one was a whopping three!) for a few hours at a time. They are definitely not well funded. I was there for maybe two or three hours, and three other people used the computer, someone else looked at magazines, and one woman brought her child in for a book. I wonder if more people would come in if it were open for more hours, or if that would just be wasted wages and electricity? I suppose if you used the library regularly, you would just plan around their schedule. I love libraries, and grew up an avid user, so it makes me sad to think that so many people cannot just walk into a huge building full of books anytime. This was pretty much the size of a living room full of books. I noticed an inter-library loan sign. I should have asked how the selection is. Next time...

In the evening, I had a swim at the pool. A shower, a swim, and another shower, all for only $1. I could almost stay in this town for another day. But I don't want anyone to think I'm just some homeless person, living in their park. Although I guess I kind of am.

Wednesday, 25 June: I left the lovely town of Culbertson, MT, and headed for North Dakota. This is the fifth state I've biked in (although Oregon just barely counts), and the third time zone. The wind was once again my friend. It's as mercurial as a junior high BFF. The hills weren't as bad as they were west of Culbertson. Why are they the steepest when the wind is against me? This is definitely not an issue of perception-- they were really bad for about 15 or 20 miles. All in all the riding was pretty easy, but I guess one rest day wasn't enough, because I was still sore today, so I didn't push myself too far.

On the way to ND I passed two Harvard boys going the opposite direction, Seattle bound. We chatted for a few, and they gave me one of their Adventure Cycling maps that they were done with. Now I'm super extra glad I didn't waste any money on these things. They would be great if you wanted to follow a very specific, turn-by-turn route that someone had laid out for you, but if you want to deviate, you will need another map.

At the ND border I met a guy travelling east alone. He was struggling to take a photo of himself by the "Entering North Dakota" sign, but wasn't able to set up his camera on the tiny little tripod because the grass was too long. I showed up at just the right time and gave him a hand.

Shortly after crossing the border, there was a marked increase in mosquitoes. By Williston, they were downright vicious. I didn't really go into town, I just went to one of the many RV parks on the highway. What a mosquito-infested hellhole. It's possible I would have a higher opinion of this place if the "groceries" they advertised on their freeway signage had been something more than a jug of milk, six assorted cans of Dinty Moore stew, and a well stocked cooler of soda. So long, dreams of eating a sandwich for dinner and yogurt for breakfast. If their sign hadn't said that they sold groceries here, I would have stopped at one of the many stores I passed on my way here. Oh, yeah, and my tent is pitched on pretty much solid rock. The stakes are nearly useless, and there are no big rocks around to help hold things in place. And after my shower, two different mosquitoes bit me in the bathroom before I could get my clothes on. Once I was fully clothed, I hurried to my tent and shut myself in for the night. Even if there were anywhere to go, I would be unwilling to leave my tent until well after dark. It's lame, because much of my dinner-type food requires cooking, but there's no way I'm going out there without smothering myself in deet first, and I don't want to do that before climbing into my sleeping bag. And I think there is a band practicing next door... This is not an endorsement of this campground. But I found some food I could eat in my tent, and then got to the typing.

I love the way my phone says it has four bars, and then I try to connect and it suddenly realizes it only has maybe two, or possibly none. Thank you, AT&T, for making your phone as sketchy as your lousy service. For awhile tonight I couldn't get online, but now it seems I can. Hmm. Who knows...

Sub-optimal

Sunday, 22 June: Today was not Saturday. It was some kind of Monday or something.

I haven't fought wind like this since Moses Lake. After only four miles of struggle, which took 40 minutes, I stopped to snack and check the weather predictions. There was a strong wind advisory in effect until 6pm, but there was something on the weather site that implied the wind might lessen in an hour or so. I made a phone call (they seem to take about an hour now, so be warned if I call you and ask if you have time to chat) and waited. The wind didn't look like it was changing, but when I started riding again, it seemed to be slightly easier. It could have just been the effects of cookies and conversation. I fought the good fight for another 11 miles, then stopped, exhausted and famished, for food at a little cafe. The place was dead. I ordered and went to the bathroom, and when I came back out, it was like a different restaurant. There was an entire little league team in there eating the homemade ice cream, and two other groups had shown up for a meal. Crazy. I could have given up for the day and camped in that town, but I was determined to be in Wolf Point tonight, and was feeling obstinate.

I soldiered on for another five miles, and then the food coma kicked in. I knew I had eaten too much, but how could I resist homemade ice cream from a seventy year old recipe? There was nowhere to stop except the side of the road, as usual, so I pulled over and tried to nap for a few minutes on the shoulder. This, of course, alarmed the passers-by so much I had to get up and ride again. I should make a big sign that says "I'm OK."

Back to the fight. I watched several storms move around me as I rode. That was neat, for me. I've never been able to watch a weather system come in from miles away. I kept hoping I would reach that town in the distance before a storm reached me, but raindrops started falling while the town was still in the distance. I got off my metal bike and hunkered down in my raincoat a few feet away to wait it out. A car pulled up and some people told me to get in until the storm passed. They didn't care that I was already soaked. A few minutes later, the rain was done and they kindly offered me a ride to my next destination, but I couldn't see any way that my bike would fit in the car. I said "Thanks, but now that the storm has passed, and the wind is supposed to die down, this last 20 miles shouldn't be too bad." That was dumb. I should have used bungees and electrical tape to attach my bike to their car...

The wind died off almost completely after the storm passed. It was 6:15. I was impressed with the weather predictions. I rode without struggle for seven miles, thinking "This last twenty will be a snap!" Then the wind was like "psyche!" and it was back to fighting for every inch of progress. Yuck. I made it to the Rancho RV Park about a mile before Wolf Point just after their power had been knocked out by one of the storms I was watching. About two seconds after I started to set up, a girl came by and told me to stop by for a beer and some warm birthday cake when I was done setting up. Nice! She was part of a group of four kids with the US Geological Survey who were on a summer project that involved camping and counting tree species along rivers (I think I got that right. I was pretty tired by that point.) One of them was having a birthday, so they had experimented with the dutch oven and made a cake. Yum! Three of them were from Fort Collins, CO, and the other was from Wisconsin. They all had degrees in things related to ecology and environmental sciences, so I felt a bit like I was among my own kind. It was a great way to end a sub-optimal day.

During my ride today I was thinking about how I've been trying to adjust my schedule to get up earlier and take advantage of the cooler mornings to ride, but it hasn't been working. I just realized how dumb this is. I'm riding east. I hate riding toward the sun. It gets warm pretty quickly, so you have to be up extremely early for it to really make a difference, and I usually end up stopping a lot and napping until the sun is no longer in my eyes. I figure if I sleep in with impunity, my progress in the afternoon will be much better, and then it will be easier to ride into the cooler evening and set up camp later. And there's an added bonus: I got to stay up late enough for some star-gazing tonight. It was still a little too bright for the really good stuff, but I got to identify the Big Dipper and Cassiopeia, which is pretty much the extent of my constellation knowledge.

Monday, 23 June: The wind was variable today, in strength and direction. It was either a cross breeze or a headwind the whole way, never the tailwind I was hoping for. You can't always get what you want... At least it wasn't as strong as yesterday.

Several random strangers in northern Montana, most of them older people, have warned against stopping in various reservation towns. With the exception of that armpit Browning, their warnings have been for naught. I have a hard time telling the difference between the res towns and the other towns that are around the same size. As far as I can see, the population in these towns is a bit darker, and there are a few slightly trendier clothes. Maybe the trendy styles are too "big city" and scary for the old folks? Or maybe it's just racism, plain and simple. I will try to suss out an innocuous sounding follow-up question to ask after people warn me about a place that will help me ascertain what they have against said place. I'll keep you posted.

The hills got pretty large and frequent on the second half of my ride today. I spent the last 15 miles or so the same way I did yesterday: staring at the odometer and telling myself "only (blank) miles left to go. ANYone can ride a bike (blank) miles." Once again, I was feeling stubborn about reaching my destination. I rolled into town around dusk, and set up camp before dark. Whew. I am ready for a rest.

Two Lane Blacktop

Friday, 20 June: Rest day. I ate a whole lot of fruit and yogurt, since I'm near a grocery store. I talked on the phone and used the internets a whole bunch. I almost feel caught up to society again. I only just learned today that Hillary offically dropped out of the race. It was pretty much a done deal before I left, but she's a scrapper...

Some other Canadians, doing self-contained touring, rolled in and set up camp this afternoon. They are going the opposite direction as I am, so I got a little info about the road ahead, and passed on some tidbits about the road behind. We spent a lot of time checking out each others' gear and exchanging tips for life on the road. They are the first touring cyclists I've camped by on this trip, and seem like the most hard core old school campers I've met so far. They're really friendly and nice to sit and chat with. They say eh a lot, eh? It makes me pine for a nice Kids in the Hall rerun. And a lifetime supply of Kraft dinner! They had also met a bunch of the people who have passed me, or that I've heard about, so that's fun. It's a wacky little bicycle touring community up here on Highway 2. They also met the Germans on their way into town, who are apparently staying at a nearby motel. Those guys got a ride past the construction in Dodson... And the rest of the way into Malta! That's about twenty miles! I should just be hitchhiking, instead of pedalling hard like a sucker.

While we were hanging out, sharing grapes and cookies and slapping mosquitoes, a couple stopped by with their grandkids. Apparently they had met the Canadians at the store, and wanted to introduce their grandkids to the people riding their bicycles across the country. They got a bonus biker. We all had a nice visit.

I stayed at the city park in Malta. Most smaller towns let you stay for free, but this is a really big park with quite a few campers, so they charge three dollars per night. I gladly paid it, because in the bathroom there is a laundry sink! That is uncommon. There is only cold water, but it is so much easier to rinse out my clothes in a nice big sink. There are no showers, but I got one over at the gas station for two dollars. It was a flip-flop kind of place, but the time was unlimited and they provided the towel. This park combines the camping area with the playground and picnic areas. Everything is just kind of interspersed, and you can set up your tent wherever. Another case of mixing the tourists with the locals. It's a large area, and the various playground equipment is spread all over. That's a great idea, because then the kids have to run around more to play.

Saturday, 21 June: Today felt like the movie "Two Lane Blacktop." It's a languid, anticlimactic road trip movie in which the main characters, none of whom have names, are racing across the country for high stakes, but no one seems to be in any hurry to get anywhere. They wander around doing whatever they please, and have random conversations that go nowhere and leave everything unsaid. I can't say why it was so completely engrossing to me, but there you have it.

Today was hot, and the wind had changed direction, so it no longer helped me. The hills were hillier than they have been and the pavement bumpy, yet I still stuck to my goal of going seventy miles to Glasgow. There was, however, absolutely no sense of urgency or desire. There is so much daylight, I knew I would make it eventually, and that stopping early wasn't an option. I got on the road fairly early, by my standards, but the Canadians were already gone by the time I even emerged from my tent. What discipline. I pedalled slowly. I took lots of breaks. I napped. I had spacy, lazy chats with fellow weary travellers at a rest stop. This tough old French Canadian said "those bathroms remind me of prison, because everything is stainless steel." I refrained from asking if he had been in prison. It seemed rude... He seemed nice enough, but I was a little relieved when he left and some other people showed up.

When I got to Glasgow, no one seemed to know which of the city parks I could camp at. The Canadians had told me where to go, but I forgot. That was spacy. I *knew* there were five different parks. I got sent on a wild goose chase, then stopped to consult my Garmin. Some nice people driving by stopped and asked if I needed help. They then led me to the park where the bikers always stay. It was very sweet of them, but there's no bathroom in this park! I wandered around the park and talked to some other people to confirm this. They suggested I just use the bathroom in the hospital across the street. Excellent plan. I okay it with the woman at the desk in the hospital, and she points out that this park is the safest for camping, since the police patrol it all the time because it is by the hospital. Also excellent. Apparently I'm not afraid to say exactly where I am sleeping tonight when I know I'll have police patrols.

While I was setting up my tent, I met someone who had just moved here from Portland a couple of weeks ago, but was originally from a town in Minnesota that is about twenty miles from the town where I was born. I refrain from singing "It's A Small World." Maybe it just stays in my mind better when it happens, but it seems like I am meeting a ton of people from Minnesota and Washington.

Random thought: if any of my loyal readers are interested in hosting any cyclists I befriend along the way who are headed toward your town, let me know, and I will give them your contact info after prescreening. As long as you trust my prescreening skills...

Insert clever title here

Wednesday, 18 June: I left Havre and their whole road construction mess behind and rode about 20 miles to Chinook. I picked it based on distance, and because it looked big enough on the map to have a park. When I got there, I realized it was a bit bigger town than I generally like to camp in, but it seemed like a nice enough place, and it was after nine already, so I wasn't going to keep going. I got some gas station food and asked if there was a park I could camp in. The woman pointed me up the street. It's a nice park, but somehow I got the impression that camping here might not actually be allowed. It's definitely not encouraged. There are no signs posted either way, though, so I set up in an unobtrusive spot. It was dusk when I began setting up, so I figured if anyone noticed, they likely won't do anything about it. There were some teenagers in the park when I got here, and I was afraid they would be hanging around making noise until late, but they cleared out shortly. I'm guessing they get kicked out at dark. It's now 10:30, and is pretty quiet and peaceful.

You know that thing people say about how poor people eat bad food because they can't afford the healthy stuff? I got a nice look at the minimart version of this messed up pricing disparity: 12 ounces of V8 (three servings of vegetables!)- $1.69. 6 ounces of lowfat yogurt- $1.09. A frozen bean and cheese burrito that I microwave there- 69¢. A starchy, lardy diet- priceless.

Thursday, 19 June. I was awakened at 5:45 by swim team practice, as the park and pool are right next to each other. This was the highschool team, the serious kids, so the coach was in full holler mode. I wasn't quite ready to get up yet, but it was good to get going early, because I wanted to go 70 miles today, to be in Malta (a larger town, relatively speaking) where I could have reception on my day off. While I was taking my tent down, in between swim team practice and swimming lessons, the coach chatted me up. He had toured with a band for fifteen years before he settled down and had NINE kids (that must be how he hones his yelling skills), became the swim coach, and ran this business on the side: thediamondguy.com. Quite a character.

And it seems like camping was allowed in the park.

It was pretty hot today, but a lot of the ride was downhill, and I had a friendly tailbreeze for much of the way, so I made pretty good time. The mosquitoes were not so friendly. I just can't wait to get to Minnesota...

Someone had warned me to avoid the town of Harlem, which is right by the Fort Belnap Indian Reservation. In fact he had warned me to just keep riding right through all of the reservations without stopping. It's possible he just didn't like Injuns, but I was inclined to believe him because he said the same thing about Browning, which was definitely seedy. Anywho, the Germans were planning to camp there tonight, and didn't think much of the warning I had received. They thought it sounded like someone who had never been there, didn't know what he was talking about, and was just repeating gossip. I decided to stop there and have a snack on my way by, and check it out for myself. The Germans were totally right. It was a nice, quiet, clean, well maintained town. A few miles past that I stopped in Fort Belnap because they had a rest stop and a store, and I needed some Powerade. It's good, because it's got electrolytes. The orange flavor is my favorite. The blue and green are pretty good, too, but the red and purple are too sweet for my taste. I haven't tried the pink yet, but based on my extensive knowledge of artificial color/flavor combinations, I'm guessing it will be right down there with the red and purple. But I digress. The rest stop, which has a shower (!), shares a building with the welfare office, but there were kids there playing basketball, so it kind of seemed like a community center, a bit. I absolutely love the idea of a rest stop for visitors in a place where locals congregate. Everyone was super friendly, and I had some good chats while drinking my Powerade.

Shortly before the town of Dodson, I came across some Canadians credit card touring on road bikes. They were fixing their second flat of the day, and on their last spare tube that didn't have holes. I told them about my awesome thorn resistant tubes, which have been puncture free for 34 days and counting.

When I got to Dodson, Highway 2 turned into a FREAKING DIRT ROAD. I thought "It can't go on for that long. I'll just tough it out." After a mile or two I was like "How much longer?" After three miles I was like "Maybe I should have gotten a ride..." It was so rough-- the worst dirt road I've ridden yet. It was especially lame after falling on gravel yesterday. It felt like it went on for a hundred miles, but it was actually about six. SIX miles of dirt road on the HIGHWAY. Ow, my spine. When I hit the pavement again, it felt like the smoothest road I had ever ridden. A few miles later the Canadians passed me. They had stopped for food in Dodson, and been smart enough to ask how long the dirt went on, and gotten a ride. That was good, because there was no way they would have made it with their skinny road bike tires.

I got to Malta uneventfully, chose from one of my many camping options, had a shower, got some food, and talked on the phone. My thighs are a bit hurting from riding 178 miles in the last three days, so tomorrow is going to be really nice.

This trip is starting to feel like a hunt for reception...

The woman who drove me out to get cell reception saw that my tent was from REI, and told me that her member number was only three digits long. I was like, "resPECK!"

Tuesday: I was sure I would get reception in Chester, which was just nineteen miles from the Galata Motel, since it was a large town, by Montana standards. Nothing. Boo. But there was a nice rest stop, where I met some lovely Minnesotans, don't ya know, who gave me grapes and cold juice and a cookie. Then I met some German touring bikers, who thought I was a fool for not having the Adventure Cycling map.

I rode on. The shoulder was huge for most of the day, practically another lane. What's a girl to do when she has her own lane on a long long long straight road, with nothing to look at but endless seas of grass and blue skies? Why, practice riding with no hands, of course. I never ever ever in all my life thought I would be *that* girl. Maybe I'll join the circus...

I stopped at a gas station to get a cold drink, and struck up a conversation with the guy who worked there and a customer about where to camp. The customer was a zany old gal, and I really wish I could remember her name. She was fun. They told me about the city parks in the towns coming up, and the customer told me the park in Hingham had a covered picnic table area, which was nice if the weather got bad. The mechanic and I looked at each other, then at the cloudless sky, and I said, "You expecting some bad weather?!" She chuckled and said "Well, in case there's a thunderstorm..." I would have never had this conversation if I had the adventure cycling map.

I went to Hingham, and as I was riding up the street, some guy in a pickup rolled by and yelled "hey, the park's that way!" I yelled thanks, and rode that way. I had just gotten my tent set up when a bunch of black clouds rolled in, and there was a big thunderstorm. Ha! I would have been really happy for the covered area if I was cooking, but I like to spend some money in town when I'm camping for free. I went down to the bar, where I found three bikers who were having beer and food and planning to still ride about 36 more miles. They're nuts. The woman in the group had also spent today learning to ride with no hands. It really was the perfect stretch of road for that. They had heard about me from the Germans and from someone else, a few days earlier! Apparently my pat answer about where I'm headed, "I want to be in Alabama by Christmas," is catchy enough to repeat. I have been told it would make a good country song... We had some fun, and now I have a place to stay in Philly and in Birmingham, AL.

It was buck-a-burger night in the bar, so I ordered two. Then two more. Then one more... they were pretty small. I am a savage now when it comes to food. You would think I was raised by wolves. I feel like the Tasmanian devil whenever there's food around. Argle bargle slurp chomp! The bartender bought me a drink, and a local guy let me use his phone to make a call, since I can't get reception here. Apparently all of Montana is a Verizon kind of place... Everyone is so nice here. I'm still waiting to run into the bad people, but it hasn't happened yet.

Wednesday: slow going. Whiskey doesn't help you ride better the next day... Also, it's hot and windy and the road is bumpy, and I'm clearly a little whiny.

I got to Havre, where I spent entirely too long on the phone, but it sure is good to have reception, and I had some great conversations. I also picked up another book, since I finally found a bookstore. Whew! I saw the Germans again on the road and then when I got to Havre. They're a pretty nice couple. I expect I'll see them again on the road tomorrow.

There is some road construction here, and I got stuck on a messed up dirt road. I finally got a chance to turn off it, but there was a big pile of loose gravel right where I tried to turn, and I took my first real spill. Right on my face. But it's just a bump, and I think my helmet absorbed a lot of the impact. The lamest part was that two of my bags came off my bike when I fell and then I was right in front of some cars trying to put them on and hold up my bike at the same time. Pretty frustrating. Someone finally got out of her car and held my bike while I put the bags on, so I got through it.

I still want to make a few more miles tonight, so I'd better post this and get going.

I have a new career

Friday: It really is all downhill after the continental divide. Well, mostly. It's crazy how fast the landscape changed from forested mountains to shrubby hills to grassland. It's also crazy what good time I made when I wasn't climbing a mountain.

My plan was to stay in Browning, which was only about 35 miles from where I spent the previous night, but it was all seedy. The only hotel I could find looked sketchy, and wanted $70 per night. I tried to find an alternative, but I got crappy reception and couldn't go online. I said to myself, "Screw this town! I still have six or seven hours of daylight, and Cut Bank is only 31 more miles. I'm going for it!" I talk to myself even more now than I used to.

This rash plan was going swimmingly, until the refreshing evening headwind kicked in. Blurg. I managed to make it to the hotel, fueled for the last few miles by my last packet of Gu, which I have been saving for an occasion such as this. (Thanks, Faith! I wasn't so sure about the "Espresso Love" flavor, but it turns out the bitter coffee flavor perfectly complements the pure glucose gel. Yum!)

I showered, ate, hot tubbed while doing laundry, then showered again. It's almost as good as the Korean spa all up in here. Aah!

Sunday: after bumming around and grocery shopping all morning, I finally hit the road. I expected to be hurting after pushing myself so hard for the last two days, but I'm really not. The terrain is definitely more manageable, but I'm also feeling much stronger. I think all of that time off the bike did me good. I made good time to Shelby, which was only 24 miles, and then wanted to go further. There didn't seem to be much on the road ahead of me, but I had enough water to camp out and make it to the next town.

There's not, however, a lot of places to camp out on the prairie. Someone I talked to suggested going up one of those dirt roads that crosses the railroad tracks, where no one would bother me. It's kind of a good suggestion, except that I've noticed the trains tootle at each of those crossings, and I don't need another night of that! I also got a mental image of hobos with bindles hanging out by the tracks, and that made me giggle. I made it to the Galata Motel, and called the number on the office door to inquire about camping. The proprietress, Sue, drove over to the motel to say I can put up a tent wherever, and sorry about how long the grass is, the unseasonable rain has caused it to shoot up. She showed me the pump, then unlocked the "back room," which has a bathroom for tent campers. She apologized some more about how dirty it was (it wasn't that bad) and said they just opened for the season, and I was their first camper. She's pretty chatty, and talked about how they had been full all weekend, because of a fishing tournament, and she was too tired to clean the rooms, so she'll do it tomorrow, and she was glad I didn't want a room, because she only had one that was clean. All this time she hadn't mentioned a price for my use of the yard and back room. I decided if she isn't charging, that's awfully nice, and if she is, maybe I can barter. I told her I wanted to take tomorrow off from biking and stay two nights, and I could help her clean tomorrow. She was shocked, but certainly liked the idea. We chatted for awhile longer with the last two fisherman, who were leaving the next morning. They gave me some great info about the road ahead, as well as a Bud Light. It was certainly no time to be a beer snob! I gratefully accepted, then set up my tent and had a hot shower.

No cell reception, though. My phone tried to tell me it had three bars, but wouldn't do anything.

Monday: (or should I say Saturday...) I sat around a bit, stretched for awhile, cleaned some rooms, ate lunch with Sue and her family, and sunbathed. Quite a nice day, really.

When I was thinking about what I wanted this trip to be, I considered not bringing my iPod. I left it behind when I went to Costa Rica, and was glad I did, because I felt like it would have removed me from where I was. But I realized this is not so much a trip as it is my life, and I decided to bring it. I'm glad I did, because a life without Fugazi, Don Caballero, Gogol Bordello and NoFX is a life half-lived. And the audiobooks are nice, too, since I've finished my real book, and I'm not seeing any bookstores on the horizon. I've started the book Kim recommended, "Social Intelligence," and that is some fascinating stuff.

Sue offered to let me stay in one of the rooms tonight, but I turned her down. Honestly, I think I've gotten so used to sleeping on my thermarest, I don't sleep well in beds anymore.

Some other motel guests discovered cell reception about a mile and a half down the road, so they drove me down here when they had to make a call, and I said I would walk back. It stays light forever out here, so I still have time. It's lame, though, because I can't stay up late enough for any good star gazing, even though I'm in the big sky country with nearly cloudless skies. It doesn't help that the moon is almost full.

I'm making hemoglobin as fast as I can!

Saturday: During my cold and wet ride to Glacier, I met another woman touring cyclist. She is from Minnesota, and she talked her friend into sharing her dream of riding from coast to coast. They took the train to Seattle, then rode out on 2. That was the first route I considered. She said it was brutal, but beautiful, and she felt it prepared her for the bigger mountains. They're going to ride to Portland, Maine, then take the train home.

I got to the Sprague Creek campground, which is one of the smaller campgrounds that is accessible by car. All of these main campgrounds have special sites for hikers and bikers that are only $5 per person. I set up my tent in the cold rain, then dressed up in almost all of my clothes and walked a mile up the road to have a celebratory hot meal that I didn't have to cook in the rain.

It is so cold and wet. I think it is snowing a little higher up, but I'm not sure. They are not yet done clearing the Going to the Sun Road, so you cannot drive through the park from the west side to the east. This is actually good for me, because while the road is closed, hikers and bikers are allowed to go up as far as they are able. When the road is open, there are restrictions on the times bikers are allowed to use the road, because of congestion and safety issues. For some reason, even though I knew about all of the snow that was still up higher in the mountains, this didn't translate in my brain into "all of the hikes you are interested in doing are snowed in. You will not be able to climb a mountain for the view." Oh well...

Sunday: This morning I met some nice people from New Jersey, so now I have a bed and a shower if I'm near Hoboken.

I rode up going to the Sun Road today. They don't plow or do road construction on weekends, and I was told by several people that I can ride up "as far as you can," which I take to mean as far as the snow is plowed. A scant six miles past the road closure barrier, an estimated six miles from where the snow ends, and after only a few hints at the scenery to come, there is a sign that says no one may continue past this sign, under penalty of fines and/or prosecution. I stopped to have a snack and think about whether or not to break the rules. After only a few minutes a mountain biker from Kalispell showed up, and we discussed the likelihood of getting caught if we rode past the sign. He said he had ridden this road just three weeks ago, and it was open then, so he didn't see why it should be closed now. He reasoned that if we put the road closure sign away, then kept riding, we could shrug and say "what sign?" if caught. This seemed like perfect logic to me, so we put the sign away and agreed we had never seen each other. As I continued riding, I couldn't help but think of a section in that book "The Tipping Point" that talked about how people who would normally never break any rules would be more likely to break the smaller rules-- jaywalking, subway turnstyle jumping-- if other people were already doing it. After another two and a half miles and some fantastic views I came to a hike called "the loop," and decided to have a wander. There were a lot of blowdowns, and I didn't get very far before I came to a bridge whose railing had been broken by a blowdown. The bridge looked like its structural integrity was intact, but I decided not to test it, and went back to my bike. I continued a little further on the road, but I had passed the place where the road construction crew was working, and the road was pretty bad, and kinda gravelly. I decided not to take any risks with my not-a-mountain bike, and turned back. The ride back down was pretty fun, but I got super cold going downhill. Did I mention that it is still cold and rainy? When I got down to the Avalanche Creek area, I stashed my bike and hiked up to Avalanche Lake. It is one of the few hikes open right now, and is not super difficult, so there were a lot of people on it. Since it is so wet, this meant a ton of mud. I booked uphill until I finally started to warm up, then slowed down a bit and enjoyed the drippy wet forest. It reminded me of home. I expected to see a banana slug at any moment. The lake was beautiful, and the weather cleared up enough so I could see the surrounding snowy mountains. I walked to the other end of the lake, where the trail ended, then headed back down. It seems to be clearing up a bit this afternoon, but I don't expect it to last, as this same weather is expected for another ten days at least. Oh well... I will have to come back here sometime in July or August and spend some time doing backcountry hikes with at least one other person to help chat and ward off bears. When I was all alone up at the loop hike, I had to make noise to let any bears know I was in the area, so I sang a song I made up about hoping bears don't eat me, and I felt a little silly.

Monday: This morning I awoke to the sounds of birds chirping, rather than rain on the roof of my tent. It was only partially cloudy, and raining sporadically. This was my chance! I got ready as quickly as I could, then hopped on my bike and rode down to the Apgar Lookout Trail, hoping to make it to the top before the weather changed on me. I was a bit hesitant to do this hike, as Apgar is the super-touristy part of the park, and pretty much everyone I talked to recommended this trail to me. I was expecting it to be as crowded as the Avalanche Lake hike. But since there aren't a ton of options this time of year, and I had a chance of some pretty great views, I went for it. The last two miles to the trailhead were on a dirt road, but I managed to ride most of the way. It occurred to me that this road was worse than the one that turned me back yesterday. I guess I just wanted this more. Also, the weather was nicer, and I had remembered to bring my multitool and a spare tube. That made me braver.

I got to the trailhead and was pleasantly surprised to see only a handful of vehicles in the parking lot. The entire hike, I don't think I saw more than eight groups of people. This one is a bit steeper and longer than Avalanche, so I guess it's less popular. And it's Monday now, no weekend hikers out. While I was stripping off layers of clothing and marvelling at how much sun there was, I realized that in my haste to leave I have forgotten my sunblock. You'd think I hadn't been all pearly white for 31 years. Just then, a nice couple from Wisconsin drove into the parking lot and began prepping for the hike. I begged some sunblock off them and hit the trail. About halfway up, I began to get some amazing views of... Somewhere. There was a huge river, the Flathead, perhaps? And mountains and whatnot. I think I was looking south out of the park. I still haven't been able to figure out which direction I'm facing, now that I'm disconnected from my usual landmarks. As I neared the top, the clouds began to gather and a few raindrops fell. I reached the top just in time to see the view of Lake McDonald and the surrounding mountains just as the clouds closed in more and completely obscured the view. I'm bummed I didn't get out of my sleeping bag sooner. I was awake, but it was cold out there. At least I mostly got to see it, for a minute or two. I also had cell reception for a few minutes, so I got to chat with Newscat and hear a familiar voice. After a snack, I tried to make another call, but my reception seemed to have gone the way of the view. It got really cold up there, and I swear there was a snowflake or two. I put all of my layers back on and began jogging back down the trail, until I warmed up a little. I made it back down in just over an hour (it took almost two hours to reach the top), hopped on my bike, and came back to my tent. My feet are killing me. I miss my hiking boots. I hope you are going to put them to good use, Mom! My shoes have been wet since Saturday.

Tuesday: I think my shoes are almost dry. I took the day off. I was hoping to do one more hike today, but as this was the first hiking I've done this year, I'm pretty sore. I'm okay with doing nothing. There is a super cold wind outside, and I'd rather not be out in it. Not only because of the cold, but for the skin on my face. There's such a thing as sunblock, but windblock is harder to come by. I've been smearing a protective (I hope?) layer of aloe on my face when I will be out riding in the cold, but I am still pretty red and chapped. Maybe I should wear one of those ski mask thingies when I ride in the cold.

It got too cold in my tent, so I walked up to the lodge for an afternoon of sipping hot cocoa and reading in front of the fire. During my walk, the rain turned to snow. Okay, it was somewhere between sleet and snow, but still. Brrr.

I spent the whole day surrounded by people, yet talked to almost no one. I am tired of having the same getting-to-know-you conversation over and over. I think that is part of why my three days with Susan and her daughter's family was so nice. We got past all of that the first day, and the next two days were much more interesting. In our brief conversation yesterday, Newscat, who was on a business trip, asked how I dealt with the soul-crushing loneliness of travel. The truth is, it's only just now kicking in. I think I have a higher tolerance for alone-time than most people, and have enjoyed practicing my social skills on people I will never see again. I've been pretty introverted for most of my life, and this is something I have really been working hard on lately. It's a lot easier when there's really no chance of social consequences, beyond the immediate. But after 35 days without seeing a familiar face, and of only communicating through phone calls-- which help, but are no match for the real thing, and are getting more difficult with my recent reception problems-- I'm starting to fantasize about randomly seeing friends, or even people I've only met a few times before, on the road. How's that for a run-on sentence? Yeesh.

In case anyone is wondering, northwestern Montana is a Verizon kind of place.

While I was hanging at the lodge, the snow set in for reals, and it looks like I will not be leaving tomorrow, like I had planned.

Wednesday: there are worse places to be snowed in than Glacier.

I managed to pick-- no exaggeration-- the most exposed, snowiest tent site in the whole campground. When I arrived, I chose the smaller of the two available tent sites in the hiker/biker spot, wanting to leave the larger free in case someone with a bigger tent showed up while I was here. Since it was raining at the time, everything was uniformly drippy and wet, and it didn't occur to me that the other site might get less SNOW. When I woke up this morning, there was so much snow weighing down my little tent, I wasn't getting good ventilation, and it was starting to get a little drippy inside the tent. At least, I *hope* that's why it was drippy in there... I dug myself out with my poo shovel, wearing the $4 gloves I bought at the general store yesterday. For some reason, all of the better gloves only came in size large.

Last night at the campground I met someone who worked in the kitchen at the lodge, and he told me to come on by for breakfast on him. I took him up on his offer, and found the holy grail: buffet breakfast. After three plates of breakfast (the plates are bigger here than at that other place), I wandered out into the lobby and chatted with some employees about the weather. As I was settling in to read, I heard a familiar voice say "she's right there!" Susan was worried about me camping in the snow, and managed, through the power of a mother's worrying, to convince her daughter to come up and check on me. They brought me some of the most delicious hot chocolate I have ever had (from Mike's convenience store, go figure) and a doughnut. We had a nice chat, and Susan's mind was set at ease. I gave her my mom's number so she could tell her I was okay, because she was worried that my mom would worry. She's so thoughtful!

It looks like I may not leave here until Friday or Saturday. The campground host told me I didn't have to pay for tonight, since I'm trapped, and the campground probably won't fill up any time soon. There's only two or three others there. Here's to free stuff! I wonder if I can scam some dinner somehow... But it wasn't necessary, since breakfast, hot chocolate, and the doughnut kept me full all day.

While I was reading in the lodge, some guy had a seizure. His companion responded calmly and acted like it was the most natural thing in the world, so I assumed he was epileptic or something, and went back to my reading. Not so with the rest of the people here. They all crowded around, gawking. Not only does this poor bastard have regular seizures, but they must usually be a spectator sport. I bet he is also tired of answering the same questions over and over... It made me want to hang out with him and discuss anything but seizures and travelling.

One of the bartenders brought me a free hot chocolate.

I was literally four pages from the end of my book when this couple from California sat down near me to play cards, and started chatting. They were talking about how nice the decor is in the lodge, with the exception of the tacky fake flower arrangements. The woman went off on a spectacular rant about how they were ugly, and didn't fit with the decor, and what should be there instead, and how she complained to the manager about them. I was rolling. She was so right. They were getting some hot chocolate, and offered me some, and I said something I never thought I would say: "Thank you, but I think I've had enough hot chocolate today." I had a good time chatting with them, and then we were all getting ready to leave at the same time. They were driving down past my campground, and offered me a ride. That was nice, since the snow had turned back to cold, wet rain. The rain is making short work of the snow on the ground, but there is more snow on the pass and on the east side of the park, so I'm still gonna stick around for a while longer.

Thursday: It's kinda sunny and nice. I tried to hike up to Snyder Lake, but there was still too much snow on the ground as I got higher, and I didn't make it. My shoes got wet again pretty fast, so for a while I was pushing myself along on sheer cantankerousness, because I figured my feet couldn't get any wetter, so why not go all the way? But then the snow got deeper, and more slippery, and I was spending the majority of the hike just maintaining my balance, and I was like "Why do I care? It's just another lake surrounded by more trees and mountains. I saw some nice views like that on my way up here." I turned around and headed back. That's when I realized I am completely done with Glacier. Even though I still had the whole afternon, I didn't even try to do a less snowy hike. I just headed back to camp, changed, and messed around with my bike in the sunshine.

My original plan was to ride around to Two Medicine, which is a campground in the Southeast corner of the park, and spend two more nights there, but the direct road to it is now closed indefinitely because of the snow. I had been assessing my options of how to see the east side of the park, but I realized they all would cost more time, energy and money than I am willing to spend at this point. If I try to hang around any longer, I will end up resenting the entire park. I need to be moving again!

Friday: I finally left Glacier. I thought I would get reception in West Glacier, since I did before, but I only got it for about thirty seconds. Just long enough for my phone to tell me I had six voicemail messages, not enough time to actually call. I tried it in a couple different places, then gave up and rode on. This monstrous post will have to wait.

Glacier summary: it was beautiful, despite the early June weather. I saw tons of deer and little chipmunks and squirrels and whatnot, but no bears or moose or elk. I didn't get eaten or freeze to death. I will definitely be back for a better-planned trip in nicer weather.

I made it to a National Park campground on 2. They wanted $10 per site for pit toilets. I decided it wasn't worth it, and paid $5. I can justify it a million ways in my head, but really, being out of touch and the dirtiest I've ever been in my life is making me cranky. Also, everything I own is damp. I only managed to take one spongebath the entire time I was at Glacier (it was like 40 degrees!), and after hanging for three days, my quick dry washcloth is still not dry. Tomorrow night I'm getting a hotel near a laundromat in a town with cell reception, and I'm going to unpack everything, spread it all over my room, and crank the heat while I talk on the phone. I get all happy just thinking about it.

At least the weather has turned. It is mostly sunny and nearly warm.

Saturday: who has two thumbs and crossed the continental divide this morning? This girl.

Heck. Yeah.

Back to it

Yesterday the kind people I am staying with drove me up to Glacier to look around and get some information before I actually head up there for reals. I'm glad they did, because I was able to ascertain that the first campground at which I was planning to stay probably wouldn't be much fun for me, so now I can blow on by it and hit the next one. I picked up a map and some info on day hikes. I'm headed out today, and plan to spend about a week in the park. I don't really get cell service there, so you may not hear from me for a while.

Last night we went out to chinese food, and my fortune read "Sometimes travel to new places leads to great transformation."

I am eternally grateful to Susan for befriending me and being so generous. I had a wonderful time here with her and her daughter's family. It was a nice mental and emotional break as well as a physical one.

But now, on to Glacier, my first official destination of the trip. It definitely feels like an achievement, or I assume it will, once I actually get there. Coming so soon after being officially on the road for one month... well, I have a lot to celebrate tonight!

Livin' la vida lujosa

Susan's daughter and her family are so incredibly sweet! I came here expecting to camp in their yard, only to discover that my impending visit had motivated them to work on their guest house in a not-much-used outbuilding on their property. So now I have walls and a roof, a bed, an easy chair, a table, electricity and a heater. They let me shower (it's the first time I've showered without flip-flops since that hotel in Spokane), fed me and told me to do laundry. They said to stay for as long as I like. They might never get rid of me!

I am near the towns of Columbia Falls and Whitefish, something like fifteen miles from Glacier. I'm sure soon the wanderlust will kick in again and I will be off to see the ice before it melts.

Today Susan and her husband Jim took me into Whitefish to check out the great bike shop there. I picked up some degreaser and signed the touring guest book. Today also happens to be the thirteenth birthday of Susan and Jim's granddaughter. Happy birthday! I totally got lucky, because I got here in time for pizza, cake and ice cream. I'm loading up on the calories before I get back on my bike.

As to Kim's questions: I've never been good at answering superlatives. Perhaps it has something to do with my indecisive libra nature. The coolest and oddest things I've seen this week... I've been trying to add two photos to my new flickr account (http://www.flickr.com/photos/26490833@N02/ I think this link works. If not, search "peripatetically speaking" on flickr.com) that might answer those questions, but I am having some spotty reception issues, so I haven't been able to do that yet. I always find the weird little symbols on signs to be wacky. You know what they're *supposed* to mean, but it's so easy to see something different. I saw a couple of good signs on restaurants a few weeks ago that I didn't photograph. One said "Country Kitchens" and then there was a big mural painted on the side wall of the restaurant that said "A Mexican Restaurant." The other one said "(somebody or other)'s Bar and Grill- A Family Restaurant." So that's enough of what I find odd. The coolest thing: I know I keep saying it, but everywhere I look it is so amazingly beautiful. The mountains, the trees, the lakes, the rivers, Kootenai Falls... The other really cool thing was the breakfast buffet sign. That's probably an anticlimactic answer. If you had asked me the grossest thing, it would be easier, because I would only have to pick from the two or three larger roadkill items I have seen. The dogs always get me.

There is a snippet of song that keeps running through my head:

"Go where you think you wanna go,
Do everything you've been saving for
..
Promises, promises, promises-- words."

-Fugazi, "Promises"

Whoa, the comments...

What the heck is going on in here?! Look, I completely understand the desire to maintain your anonymity online, and you don't have to share who you are with the group, but if you are so anonymous that *I* don't even know who you are, then don't be surprised if people get curious. And of course my mom is going to be curious, a well as a bit protective. She's my MOTHER! She has earned that right! We all have mothers, and know how it is. So fine. Be anonymous, say whatever you want to me, tell me I'm a nutjob for doing this, I can take it. But respect each other, and for crying in the night-- do not. Be rude. To my MOM! Everyone on the planet knows that disrespecting someone's mother is the same as asking for a smackdown.

Now, back to our show...

Sunday, while my four plates of breakfast were settling, I got a new bolt for my rack and chatted with some locals. They said not to worry too much about bears if I was near 2, because the black bears only seldom came down from the mountains, and the grizzlies never did. Good to hear.

Big food + little sleep = sluggish, but I don't regret a bite of it. Well maybe the biscuits and gravy, they weren't so good. I soldiered on for a couple hours, then took a nap under a tree. I was still pretty slow when I got back to pedaling, but since I had started early and didn't have to stop to eat (seriously, breakfast lasted all day) I managed to do some decent miles. It was mostly done raining by the time I finished breakfast and errands in Libby, then got kinda sunny-ish after that, but stayed fairly cool. Nice for riding!

I pulled off 2 onto McGinnis Meadows road. It is a national forest access road. My Garmin said there was something here called Pleasant Valley Park, but I didn't really believe it. There is a place called Pleasant Valley several miles NE of here, so it seems like a safe bet that the park would be over there somewhere. Anywho, I didn't find anything that looked like or was labeled as a park, but I did find a bunch of meadows and trees that I decided to camp in. There was a nice little half-circle of Ponderosa Pines (I think) right off the road that had dropped a bunch of needles, so it was a great place for a tent.

Monday: even more sluggish. I must be worn out. Maybe I only have 2.5 days of riding in me, rather than 3. I eke out a few miles that seem to be mostly uphill, then find a campground by McGregor Lake. It is a national forest campground, with toilets and water taps. A good place to spend my mandatory day off, and there's hardly anyone else here, it being Monday and all.

Tuesday: This morning I dreamed I was at a pizza restaurant that had an all you can eat buffet with both pizza and burrito fixings for only two dollars. That may have been the best dream ever.

Last night I started listening to the audiobook of "The Tipping Point," which analyzes what causes social epidemics-- fashion trends, word-of-mouth news, diseases-- to suddenly blow up and become huge in a certain population. I think it was written from a marketing perspective, but it was so interesting I listened for two hours and stayed up too late and had to force myself to pause it and go to bed. Then today I finished it. All 8.5 hours.

The book I have been reading, "The Rise of the Vulcans" by James Mann, is the history of Bush II's war cabinet. It is pretty interesting, if you like history and politics, which I'm not particularily into, but I didn't want to blow through my book in a matter of days and have to be on the hunt for a new one. Did you know Dick Cheney had his first heart attack in June of 1978, at age 37, when running for Congress? Holy moly! I was not quite two at the time. This guy has been having heart attacks for pretty much my entire life, and nearly half of his. (Insert joke here. Can't decide which way to go. Energizer bunny? Timex? Clones? Robot? Frankenstein's monster? Sucks life force from blood of newborn puppies? Purchases new hearts on the black market in third world countries? Too... many... jokes...)

Wednesday: This morning was the coldest, rainiest ride I have had yet, but I'll take that over wind any day! Spurred on by the weather and assisted by the many long downhill portions of the ride, I made record time into Kalispell, where the angelic Susan (from the Tri-Cities, remember her?) has offered to pick me up so I don't have to bike through the city. She is taking me to her daughter's place, outside Columbia Falls, where they have kindly offered to let me camp. It will be nice to converse with people again...

The return to Highway 2

Saturday morning I bade farewell to Diane, the kind and considerate host (I'm assuming owner? I never think to ask these things until it's too late) of the Cabinet Gorge RV Park. It was a really nice place to take a break, clean and quiet, with showers and a laundromat. It is beautiful, and there are enough trees and bushes to give it more of a campgroundy feel than an RV parky vibe. For anyone who would like to visit, it is located about one third of a mile down a dirt road from the junction of 200 and 56 near Noxon, MT. (www.cabinetgorgervpark.com, email cgrvp@blackfoot.net)

56 is gorgeous. It follows a river, skirting some mountains and cutting through the Kootenai National Forest. There isn't much of a shoulder here, either, but it seems like a little more than on 200, and there is less traffic. The vehicles also seem to drive a bit more slowly and carefully, since this road is twistier and has more wildlife. I keep expecting to see the senile/sadistic biker drive by, pointing and laughing at me for taking his advice, but so far this hasn't happened.

I scared up a deer, who bounded alongside the road just ahead of me for a bit, before crossing over and running into the woods. I kept thinking, "If you're trying to get away from me, you should run in a different direction. But if you're trying to give me a good look at your pretty white tail, well done!"

Many hiking trails, campgrounds and recreation areas beckon to me on 56. It's tempting to pull off the road for a hike and then camp for the night, but 56 is only 36 miles long from 200 back to 2, and my plan is to get back on 2 today. If you don't stick with the plan, you get burned. Friday, for example: I was sunbathing when Anna called me. The sun felt so nice and relaxing, and it was such a good chat, I stayed in the sun for one full rotation longer than I planned to. And I got burned. Not too bad, just a bit pinker than I should be. But still.

I've seen a lot of Ron Paul for president signs out here. In fact, I can't recall seeing a single one for any other candidate. If Montana ran the country, there would be some serious changes all up in here!

I stop off at the rest stop at the junction of 2 and 56, and fill up my water. Now I am flexible about where I camp. I swear this is only the second rest stop I've seen on this trip. Can that be right?

Onward to 2, with it's huge, smooth shoulders. Vin Diesel has nothing on this highway. I ride a little ways, then stop to wander around at Kootenai Falls. I'm kinda hoping I can camp here, but there's a sign that says "No overnight camping." I cansider hanging out until it's closer to sunset, then just putting up a tent in the woods, because who will notice? And if they do, who would kick me out? But I have a hard time breaking posted rules, and I feel refreshed after the walk, so I move on.

The next town, Libby, is at least another ten miles, maybe a little more, and it is a bigger town, so I don't really want to stay there. I'm running out of both steam and daylight, and don't really want to push myself that far then ask about camping and be told to go even further. I check out a few roadside spots, but they are all either not flat enough or too exposed to the road and train tracks. Finally I see a hiking/mountain biking trail, so I push my bike up that a little ways and camp on a wide spot beside the trail. I'm sure I broke some sort of hiker rule, but I'm tired. I'll have to admit, I'm a little freaked out by the thought of bears. I tied my food and scented toiletry products up in a tree, but I *am* delicious. I think I'll look for a less wildernessy place to camp tomorrow.

Sunday: I barely slept last night. I mostly just listened to trains and every other noise while clutching my ASP and trying to doze. For some reason, each train that passes by this spot honks exactly four times, twice before and twice after they pass me. It's interesting, to my sleep deprived brain, to hear the Doppler effect of how the horn sounds coming and going.

I get out of there as early as I can, with just a snack, because I'm craving eggs and want breakfast in Libby. As I ride into town, I'm kinda glad I didn't come in last night, to sleep in an RV park in the suburbs. Although I might have actually slept. Oh well, there's always tonight. I'm starving and cold (it's raining) when I see the magical words: "Sunday breakfast buffet." Heck, yeah! I load up on fruit and eggs without even stopping in the bathroom to wash my hands. I feel like Dirty Larry. I haven't had eggs since May 14. Yum. I can't resist taking a sliver of ham, too.

Cell reception on 2 is spottier than I had hoped it would be. Maybe it's better on the flat side of the state... Anywho, the posting will be kinda random for awhile. I'll try to keep up the story as I go along, and then post when I hit a large population center with reception.

(the CIA isn't necessary, seattlenaturelover has revealed his identity to me. But thanks!)