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.