into the great wide open: 2011

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Day 30/24 : August 7, 2011

Culbertson, MT to Williston, North Dakota

Late night.

Late start.

It was hot and noon.

The ride was nothing new.

Brown.

Hot.

I was in a similar funk as yesterday.

and I was trying so hard to not let it get to me.

We entered state #4

North Dakota

We were in Williston around 4PM.

I was unaware of time.

At the park we found, we ran into a local.

Who talked with us for nearly an hour.

Williston is a huge black gold town (oil).

A city ratio of 1 woman : 12 men.

He said the town had grown by 3,000 to 4,000

in a few years.

He told us about the culture.

About where he has been and why he is where he is now.

He has a large scar on his face.

He was a mountaineer.

While out climbing, a climber above warned of loose rock falling.

He looked up.

And woke in a hospital.

Rock had pulled the skin off his scalp.

He warned that us cyclist need to be careful on the road.

A lot of drunks.

and

A lot of inexperienced drivers in big rigs.

and

A lot of inexperienced drunk drivers in big rigs.

We heard that from multiple people we ran into, whether in the library or in the community center or grocery store.

The guy in there says,

"You two on bikes? You shouldn't be able to be on the roads.

You guys cause accidents.

You get young kids coming out here to make money. They're drinking and driving.

Then, you guys are riding on the roads and these kids don't know what to do.

They shouldn't allow you on the roads. You're causing accidents."

I had previously been feeling an urge to get away from the reminders that the plains

where taking me to.

I wasn't enjoying my bike trip. I was not wanting to get on my bike each morning. I wanted it to be done.

After hearing the unwelcoming greetings of the area, I didn't want to be on the road.

And having pedalled beside train tracks mile after mile,

and having never taken a train,

and there being an amtrak...

I wanted to take a ride on the tracks.

I asked Greg if he would be okay with taking the amtrak out of this area.

We booked 2 seats to Fargo.

Departure: Tomorrow evening.

Day 29/23 : August 6, 2011

Nashua, MT to Culbertson, MT

We took our time to get up this morning.

While making our breakfast, a young kid kept riding back and forth on his bike.

After about the 7th time, Greg said, "Hey man, whats up?"

And for the next hour in a half we

had the company of the 13 yr old boy.

We finally were on the road around noon.

I struggled today.

My mind was distracted with the emotions and feelings that continually lingered from the incident a couple days ago.

It effected me physically too.

I couldn't get into a groove of riding.

I was defensively riding.

Even with Greg there.

The scenery was the same.

Similar vehicles would drive by me.

It was all to familiar.

And I couldn't enjoy what I was doing. And who I was doing it with.

Greg sensed I was having an off day.

He stopped. I pedalled past.

He then pedals past handing me this sunflower.

We took a break in Wolf Point 35miles into our ride.

We ran into another rider heading West.

60 Miles to Culbertson.

With it being about 5PM

we would be finishing in the dark.

Everything was annoying me.

The wind.

The route.

The bumps.

My bike.

The food I was eating.

I stopped for a moment along the road, and when Greg got to me

he asked if I was doing okay.

I said, "I am annoyed by everything."

He said, "Do you want me to stay behind?"

I said, "NO. That is annoying me."

He took off ahead.

Damn.

There was a solo tree in this field.

And when I saw it, that was me.

I wanted a picture.

So I reach for my phone, and while doing so,

I wipe out.

Karma bitch.

I laugh at myself.

and Snap the picture.

I hopped back on and pedalled up to Greg.

I said.

"THere are 2 reasons why you aren't allowed to get ahead of me."

"Okay."

"1. Because I am scared when I can't see you.

and

2. Because if I wipe out you won't get to laugh at me."

It was a pretty sunset

and we continued on.

We made it into Culbertson a little after 9.

Stopped at the only open convenient store.

Popcorn.

Ice cream.

Beer.

Found ourselves a park and pavillion.

And enjoyed one anothers company.

Day 28/22 : August 5, 2011

Hinsdale, MT to Glasgow, MT to Nashua, MT

I was itchin' to get back on my bike.

Anxious too.

Today I was meeting Greg!

I had a headwind, so the ride took longer than I was hoping.

I was constantly checking my mirror and surroundings.

I made it to the airport.

Storms that were expected to roll in were delaying the flight.

It would be about an hour wait.

Finally, he was here.

and I couldn't be happier.

An hour was spend getting the bike and gear together.

Grocery store restock.

and We were on the road.

We pedalled into a storm.

and Ended the day 15 miles down the road to Nashua.

Luckily, there was a pavillion. And toilets. And showers.

Thank goodness for bananas and red wine.

For art and celebration.

Day 27 : August 4, 2011

Hinsdale, MT

Today I just laid around.

Waiting for the next day,

when I would meet Greg at the airport.

Day 26 : August 3, 2011

Hinsdale, MT

Last night I was 'in shock' with emotion and disbelief, that I was denying that I couldn't get back on my bike and keep riding.

I didn't realize how serious and risky of a situation I was in.

I didn't sleep well.

Even with doors and windows locked and some sort of obstruction placed in front.

And this morning, the incidence angered me more and more.

It created raw emotion and feelings.

I didn't want to believe I was in this situation.

I wanted

Home.

Safety.

I was

Nervous.

I wanted

to complete this ride.

But,

Not on my own.

I couldn't enjoy it.

I need someone.

It wouldn't be what I was hoping to make of this trip.

Freedom.

Confidence.

Independence.

Discovery.

I joined the family for the day of the cabin I was staying in.

It gave me some distractions.

I helped with the kids 4-H projects.

Took a tour around their farm.

and

Shot arrows.

Greg offered to join me.

He wanted to see me be able to complete this journey.

And he was willing to change his plan and route for that to happen.

My family understood how bad I wanted to complete this trip.

34 miles away in Glasgow, there was a very small airport.

My dad purchased a plane ticket

and Greg was scheduled to arrive

August 5.

Thanks Greg.

Day 25/21 : August 2, 2011

Havre, MT to Hinsdale, MT

When I woke this morning, I felt I was waking on a cloud.

Surrounded by plush pillows and blankets.

Do I have to get up?

I went down to the lobby to use their computer to try and create a route

through Minnesota, Wisconsin and into U.P.

I was needing to figure out mileage so I could

let my aunt and uncle know when I would

be arriving

at their cabin in the Keweenaw.

It was difficult through a computer screen.

I asked front desk if they had maps of the Midwest.

No.

A couple over heard me.

They had an extra map they could give me.

They also warned me that flooding has made the WIlliston/Minot area difficult to find places to stay.

And suggested taking a train to

get through that section.

I decided to ride on and deal with it when I went through that section.

Same heat. Same environment. Same scenery.

Run down buildings and homes.

Bowdin National Wildlife Refugee.

Lake Bowdin.

The long stretches through the open plains

zoned me out and I would ride mile after mile

before breaking.

Today, I don't know how I did it, but it was 5 hours later, 90 miles to the day

and I was in Malta.

I filled up on water in a gas station and ran into a very friendly and excited

couple. They really made me smile and feel good.

Thanks.

I found a local park where I took a couple hour break from the heat

and

hit the road again around 6PM.

Hinsdale was 42 miles away.

20 miles in and about 8 miles from Saco

my trip went sour.

And I ran into an unfortunate happening.

I wanted to get away from that area

and hope the individual wouldn't catch on that I had my phone to my ear,

so I was riding as fast as I could while

calling 911.

I tried reaching my family too, but sketchy service made it hard to connect the call since I wasn't staying in one place.

Finally, 9 miles later, right outside of Saco, a deputy met me.

I filed a report and was then driven 13 miles to the next town, Hinsdale.

Being a small town there were no motels to put me up in.

We went into the convenient store to ask

if there was a park I could camp in.

Luckily, there was a lady in there who said the Lutheran church is always open, and they allow people to stay in the basement.

The deputy brought me over to the church.

The parking lot was full. With 5 vehicles.

He walked with me to the basement where we heard voices.

Everyone stopped when they saw an officer round the corner.

He explained that I needed a place to stay and heard the basement was available.

They said of course.

And it was shortly followed with a couple offering a cabin they rent out to hunters and others..it is a block from the church.

I could stay there.

I took the offer.

My phone had died when I was reaching my family on my bike,

and all they knew was I was in some trouble and the police were helping me.

I was finally able to reach them, and full of emotions,

let them know I was okay.

The rest of the night was trying to figure out what I was going to do.

I wanted to finish.

But I couldn't do it by myself.

I was scared.

I didn't want to be outside alone.

I either needed to go home

or find someone to finish the ride with me.

I spoke with Greg.

He was in Lander, Wyoming.

Day 24/20 : August 1, 2011

Hingham, MT to Havre, MT

I woke to what I thought was rain, but it was the sprinklers hitting the pavillion.
*
I had a short ride planned for today
so I closed my eyes again.
*
I was only riding about 37 miles to Havre.
There was a hotel room waiting for me.
My brothers treat.
*
It was a hot again, but luckily with some cloud cover.

This train was 204 cars.

And those were the top sites for the day.

When I arrived in town, pleasantly surprised by the size, I called up the bike shop

to find their location.

I have been having trouble with my bike seat,

and was hoping for a trade.

When I arrived it was stocked with bikes from ceiling to floor.

No joke.

He was climbing over bikes to show me some of the

saddles he had.

None suited.

After a couple other stops,

I paid a visit to

Scotty's.

and They had an ice cream challenge.

Right up my ally.

It was named

"The Big Sky"

A 12-scoop challenge.

If you finished, your picture was put on the wall.

If you finished in record time, you got it free.

And, if I finished it...

I would be the first solo girl to do it.

I finished it easily.

I was going for the gold, but was soon interrupted by a gentlemen and his daughters

swamping me with questions.

I still at it in 20 mins.

Half way through, the manager asked, "How I was doing?"

I fib, and I followed with, "It is going to be tough."

I laughed inside.

At the end, he asked if I was going to beable to get on my bike.

"Well I hope."

I was thinking...I could finish another.

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Day 23/19: July 31, 2011

Cut Bank, MT to Hingham, MT

*
The fellow biker and I said bon voyage and I hit the road.
*
It was another HOT day.
and I found myself in a similiar water situation as before.
*
I had purchased an extra bottle to have on the bike with me, but I believe I
was still dehydrated from the day before.
*
I counted railroad cars to distract my mind for a couple minutes.
This one : had 140.
I remember.
It was the longest one I had ever seen.
It had to be going somewhere important to have that many.... I wanted to jump on it.

*
Resources were very sparce.
Once again, buildings were closed up.
I stopped in Galata and knocked on the office door of a motel. I could hear a T.V. and people talking.
No one answered the door. I just wanted water.
...maybe that is why they didn't answer.
It was 70 miles before I took my first break where I got
off the bike and sat.
Chester.
I sat in AC for 2.5 hours waiting for the afternoon heat to back off.
....
*
A little after 6PM I hit the road.
I crossed paths with an older Italian man heading West.
He had started in Boston. And was ready to get out of the Midwest and plains.
*
I continued on 27 miles to Hingham.
Pop. 157

Dark skies were threatening.
Camped under a pavillion in their surprisingly pretty, well-kept city park.
With running water, flushable toilets, and hose.

I still camped in my tent ... for some reason it made me feel safer.
*

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Day 22/18 : July 30, 2011

Crooked Creek Campground-Alberta to Cut Bank, Montana

I couldn't wait to get up and out of my tent this morning.

As I had been in my tent since 6PM the night before due to the mosquitos.

It was an earlier rise of 7AM and I was determined to make it out of Canada.

The bugs greeted me in the sticky morning air.

I packed my tent covered in dew and was out of there without breakfast.

This is what I was riding away from

as I entered the beginning of my long stretch through the plains.

I was craving an omelet this morning, and I decided because of the early start I would stop at a restaurant in Cardston, Alberta.

I found a cafe called "Our Place"

and it was where the locals went for their morning coffee and newspaper readings.

You knew who were the regulars as they were greeted by first names and brought their coffee or tomato juice before even seating.

It was clear I was from out of town.

I was the only light skinned, blonde haired wonderer as I was sitting on the border of the Blood Indian Reservation.

I sat with my hands around my coffee mug and my glance going from

the coffee

to the stacks of 'complimentary' peanut butter and jelly packs

to my bike propped outside the window.

Quite awkward as their stares penetrated deep and they whispered as though I could understand
their foreign tongue.

3 cups of coffee.. and my food comes.

It satisfied the craving.

I left with my stomach full and

my handlebar bag full of a weeks supply of peanut butter and jelly.

There were limited services for the next 73 miles.

100 miles for the day was what it was going to be.

5 full water bottles.

100+ degrees.

Well rested body.

No mountain climbs

I thought I was ready for what was to come.

It was a whole different world.

And it was just the beginning.

34 miles and I was inches from being back in the U.S.

But for some reason I raised suspicion to border control.

May I please have proper identification.

Why did you go to Canada?

How long were you in Canada?

Goes inside booth. Comes out.

Can you take your helmet and sunglasses off?

Why are you by yourself?

Where did you come from?

Where are you going?

What are in your bags?

How old are you?

Goes inside booth. (Is there something I don't know.) Comes out.

Do you have any charges or felonies?

Have you ever been in jail?

May we see another form of identification?

Goes inside booth. Comes out.

You are crazy to be by yourself. Be safe. Have a good trip.

Wow. I am really glad to be back in the U.S.

I was hoping to fill my water bottles.

I was cherishing every drop of water because I didn't know when I would get to refill.

I really thought the ride was going to get easier as I left the Rockies,

but the 110 degree heat made the hills of the Plains seem more

gruelling than the multiple thousand foot climbs I would summit in a day.

There was no shade.

And what services that may have been available were now closed, boarded buildings.

This picture captures what I had to entertain my eyes and mind.

When I look at this I can remember the feeling that was within me and my thoughts

as I sat in the shade my bike provided

and sipped the last of my water.

Worried. "This is not good. Water. Water. Water. There has to be a cattle hole."

I was 32 miles from Cut Bank.

A ride that shouldve taken me a little over 2 hours, turned into

6 hours.

It was an awful ride.

My mental state was to a point of numbness and my muscles were struggling to get the pedals to go around.

I found myself pulling my forehead off my handlebars and convincing my body it can make it.

At what cars passed, I attempted to wave them down, hoping to get water.

0 - 5.

I was desperate. And the next approaching vehicle

I sat my bike down

and stood in the middle of the road.

They tried to pass.

But perhaps the tears and look on my face and my plead to stop convinced them I was in desperate need of something.

They cracked their window.

I said, "Do you have any water or something to drink."

"No. ... Well, I have a can of CocaCola."

"I'll take it."

Rolled the window down just enough to give me the can, and then they were off.

I chugged it.

It satisfied momentarily.

I could see green. I assumd it was Cut Bank. I was still 15 miles away.

I really didn't know if I was going to make it.

Every mile was a struggle.

A battle with my body and the elements surrounding it.

I passed a water hole. Barbed wire threatened an entrance.

I am unsure how I was able to navigate myself the rest of the way.

All was a blur.

As I entered the 7 mile stretch into Cut Bank, homes began appearing.

I wanted to run up to the doors.

I knew there was water behind them.

I remember thinking, that would waste too much energy, I can make it.

I wasn't expecting 5 miles to take me over an hour to do.

I would stop and stare at the homes.

Their appearance had me proceed to pedal.

There was a man out watering his yard. I stopped and stared. He turned away.

I was finally in Cut Bank. Subway was the first building I came to.

I filled all my water bottles. And drank them all.

I couldn't move.

After a half hour I went back in and asked if there was a campground around.

West 1/4 mile, left at bank.

I was unsure as I approached. But the host were there to greet.

After asking if there were tent sites and prices, they asked how many.

I look around, and as I begin to say, " well, one," here comes another cyclist.

I smiled. The company is always great.

As we were setting up camp, the local drunk, Jimmy, pulled up in his truck and asked if I needed help setting up my tent. The other cyclist said, " If she doesn't know how to set it up by herself by now I think we have a problem."

He pulled over to the empty site and sat.

We began to get dinner going and, once again, Jimmy pulls up to see if I need help with cooking and to invite us to a house party.

We kindly pass.

This cyclist was coming from Washington and heading to the Mississippi. He was to meet a buddy there and they were going to kayak down the river. He wasn't following much of a map. Asking from town to town which way to go.

Hello blog.
*
Day 21/17 : July 29, 2011

Saint Mary, MT to Crooked Creek Campground, Waterton Lakes, Alberta, Canada

*
Today the plan was to continue North into Alberta, Canada, bike into Waterton Lakes National Park and back out, then approx. 77 more miles of Canada soil, and back into Montana onto Cut Bank.
It would be a big ride, approx. 140miles, but my avg pace and cool weather had me thinking it was a Go.
*
After short conversations and Happy Trail wishes to the fellow biker and hikers, I was on the road leaving Glaciers beauty behind.
The wind was at my back, and I thought this couldn't be more perfect for my big push.
The image in my mirror that grew smaller and smaller with each pedal, had a beauty difficult to put into words and had me contemplating whether I should stay for a day or two to soak in the smells of nature.

*
I believe the wind was trying to tell me to stay. It must have known something I didn't.
Because as soon as I turned North towards Babb, the wind was in my face.
It was an immediate momentum shift, and a struggle to get 10 miles down the road to Babb.
It seemed a bit ridiculous to take a break already, but there I was, sitting on the bench outside the general store eating not 1. not 2. but 3 candy bars (eh, no jaw dropping, they were good and sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. And, at this time, it was eat 3 chocolatey, ooey, chewy, peanut buttery, coconutty deliciousness.) and talk with a couple arrogant travellers.
One who claimed he thru-hiked the Appalacian Trail, and when I asked how long it took... he said "O, a couple months." And when I said, "Nice, with full gear?" He said, "O yeah." "Where did you start?" "Florida." And the conversation ended with me giving a funky look.
*

On the road again. And all that was on my mind was

wind + constant up and downs = not going to get as far as planned.

This ride was full of mountainous views on my left

and open plains on my right

along with lingering open cattle.

These cows were intimidating.

As I would pedal forward, they would step out further into the road.

Territorial or protective.

So I lowered my head. Kicked up some dust up with my feet. Snorted. and Charged.

Fortunately at the same time as a car drove by, giving me a shield because I don't think I would have won that battle.

Canada was in view.

30 miles of climbing with a head wind to this point, it was already mid-afternoon and I was tired.

I wasn't sure how far I would be making it today.

There was a nice 5-ish mile decent to the border.

And after an easy clear into Alberta,

a lunch snack was in need.

This is where you wish you hadn't eaten all the candy bars.

It was a long day of not many miles, but exhausting. I knew I had to

find some place to pitch the tent.

The roadsides where very open. No trees to tuck a tent behind. Or it was dense brush. It was 17 miles until the next available campground.

The wind made my shirt look like that .. not the candy bars :)

My destination goal for today changed 4 times.

I finally ended at Crooked Creek campground near Waterton Lakes

after convincing the campground owners that though their camp is full, all I need is a small piece of land for my tent. They shoved me in a mosquito infested pit for 18$ canadian.

The shower felt nice.