"5 racist hags, 4 Buzz's girls..." - Day 14

Travis didn't bring a sleeping bag, so he has been using the rain fly for our tent as a sleeping bag. As a result, I woke up in the middle of the night to rain hitting my face. So Travis had to forgo his blanket as we quick like bunnies threw the rain fly over the tent. It rained pretty hard for a while, but I still slept well.

In the morning, we bid farewell to Luke and Jason, only to run into them again at the gas station where we refilled our water. We set off down I-90 at breakneck speed, taking Luke and Jason's suggestion that we try drafting off of each other. Our average was running about 18 mph on a slight downhill with a slight tailwind. We were taking one mile pulls but I was tiring and thus Travis started taking 2 for my 1. We made the 41 miles to Kadoka in less than 2.5 hours, but got waylaid there because the bathrooms were out of order.
After half an hour or so in Kadoka, Luke and Jason pulled in. We coerced them into riding with us, thinking that it would be great to draft behind such sizable men. They agreed and so we set off with a four person train to Murdo. Travis ended up pulling the four of us across South Dakota at a pace that left Jason and me wondering what we'd gotten ourselves into. It as all I could do to keep up on the downhill and I was exhausted by the time we pulled into Murdo for a late lunch.

Entering Central Time with Luke and Jason

There, we bid Luke and Jason a final (maybe?) farewell and continued east. The whole day I was trying to coordinate with my dad when and where we were going to meet him, as he is flying up to ride with us for a day or two. He ended up flying to Chamberlain, which would've made for a 160 mile day for us. However, we were too tired to make it and settled to meet in the middle in Kennebec, another 40 miles down I-90.
Naturally, the final 20 miles were done at an exceedingly slow pace, but we passed the time by coming up with our own lyrics to the 12 Days of Christmas song. So far we have:

On the 5th day of riding my country gave to me:
5 racist hags,
4 Buzz's girls,
3 free beers,
2 obliterated turtles,
and a pig roast in Arvada, Wyoming!

We hope to have all 12 figured out so that we can sing it in the Atlantic.

At any rate, we pulled into Kennebec around 9 pm where my dad already had a room at Gerry's Motel. We showered, which was great, and really surprising how dirty the water falling at our feet became. We were treated to dinner and then went to bed. It looks like we're going to make it past Sioux Falls in two days and be in Des Moines in 4. We're also very nearly halfway finished. Wow.

Time	Trip	Odometer	Average	Max
5:35:23	78.7	1101	14.0	?

"It's kaputt!" - Day 13

We woke up on time for once, made oatmeal and broke camp. As we were packing up the tent, a man approached us, introduced himself, and asked what we were doing sleeping in his parents' yard. We explained that Bo and Deano had given us permission, which satisfied him, as he is their business partner. We collected his name and address so that we could send the three business owners a postcard from New York City.

We coasted down the hill from their place back into town where we refilled on water and set off towards Wasta, South Dakota. We had great tailwinds and a long downhill for the first 20 miles, during which we crossed the state line.
We continued to get great tailwinds along our frontage road into Sundance, South Dakota. There we met one of the owners of the Two Wheeler Dealer, a bicycle shop chain in South Dakota. He was quite interested in our trip and let us know that we were finally out of the mountains. And there was much rejoicing.

Along the way to Rapid City, there was a truck in the shoulder with a number of people standing around it. As I rode by I asked if they needed help, not thinking there was much two cyclists could offer. They shouted "It's kaputt!" and then made motions for a cell phone. I turned around to find four Italian tourists with limited English. Through their extremely broken English, Travis' French and my limited Spanish, we were able to ascertain that their car was broken and they needed a ride to the airport. We were able to call a taxi for them and went on our way. It was nice to be able to pay an infintismal part of the hospitality that we have received forward.

Our good deed for the day done, we rolled into Rapid City around 1 o'clock. We found the Subway before being directed to a much needed laundromat, not having done laundry since day 3 with Kate. There we rocked out in our one pair of clean clothes and satisfied the craving we'd been having for chips and salsa.
Being so full from the chips left me feeling sluggish as we pulled out of Rapid City, causing Travis to run into my rear tire and fall. He complained of pain in his side but pushed through it. We were barely outside of Rapid City when Travis flatted. He is really getting close to my number of flats, so I need to step it up a little bit.

Our northerly tailwind turned into a crosswind as we changed direction at Rapid City, but we were still able to push past Wasta to Wall, home of the ubiquitously billboarded Wall Drug. Having been there before I knew it wasn't worth the hype, but Travis had to see what the approximately 200 billboards we'd been seeing for the past 75 miles were all about.
Outside of Wall Drug, we met two other cyclists who were also on a cross-country journey. Jason and Luke were wrestlers at Cornell, before deciding to embark on their adventure. They started in Florence, Oregon and have been taking the back roads. We shared many stories and some beer at a bar across from Wall Drug before heading to the local airport to pitch a tent. Hopefully we'll have no problems from police or mosquitoes before morning! Also, I noticed my cycle computer acting up again in Spearfish, so I'm using Travis' data for today.

Time	Trip	Odometer	Average	Max
9:06:37	140.5	1360	15.4	39.4

"It's just another place." - Day 12

Happy 232nd birthday USA! We woke up without an alarm at 7, made breakfast and bid farewell to Buzz's girls. Before we left, I had the distinct pleasure checking off another bucket list item by using an actual outhouse.
We were on the road by 8:30 but it was hot and uphill to Gillette. We hardly saw another soul on the 55 miles of dry and desolate Wyoming. Seven miles outside of Gillette I flatted again, and again didn't check the bead before inflating. This time I decided to replace the whole tire, but went through another two CO2 cartridges in the process.
Given our CO2 situation, I opted to invest in another pump at Wal-Mart in Gillette. It came in handy just 7 miles later when I flatted. Front tire flats are scary. Not wanting me to get too far behind my respectable 10 flats so far, Travis flatted a few miles later, bringing his total to 6. We grabbed some groceries in Moorcroft just as the store was closing, before running into another long and slow uphill battle into Sundance.

Once again, the end of the day was quite a struggle. It seems that the last 20 miles of the day take as long as all of the previous miles. We anxiously hope that around each curve and behind each hill lies our destination but more often are met with more hills. Today especially, the mile markers were taking particularly long in counting up, and our anxiety was exacerbated by the setting sun. However, we made it into town by 8:45 and per our usual routine stopped at the first bar we saw.

At the bar we met Bo and Deano, pseudo-brothers who offered to let us pitch our tent at their place outside of town. Deano even stopped macking on a lady to pile the four of us into the front of his truck with bikes in the back. We apologized profusely for cockblocking him, but he said his parents had taught him to help people in need. Deano was an army ranger who said of his number of tours in Iraq "it's just another place." He was quite legitimate.
The trailer park residents were keen on shooting off fireworks late into the night, but we were to exhausted for it to be a nuisance. Tomorrow we've got an alarm set for 5:50 and then it'll be off to South Dakota!

Time	Trip	Odometer	Average	Max
9:05:56	119.3	1220	13.1	31.0

"Do you want to sleep in the sheep wagon?" - Day 11

We woke up this morning according to plan at 6 am. Travis made breakfast while I attempted to repair my rear flat tire. I succeeded in breaking the stem off of the first tube, and pinch flatted a second when I tried to insert it. This cost a few CO2 cartridges, which we were running low on. Travis was finally able to successfully patch it, but the delay meant we didn't leave Ranchester until 9:30.

A local recommended taking the frontage road to Sheridan, where we restocked on energy bars and flat tire repairing materials. The pump that I bought at REI in Spokane mysteriously started leaking around the head. I bought a schrader valve adapter, hoping that I could use the other half of the head. I also left my Vaseline in Ranchester, and so picked up some Bag Balm to cut down on chafing. From Sheridan we took Helen's advice and headed east on Highway 14. It was a pleasantly flat highway with a smooth shoulder.
Helen had also recommended that we head to Leiter for some of the best food around. We were headed that way until we saw an ominous sign in Clearmont indicating that we may want to stop there for at least water.
When we stopped in Clearmont for water, we caught word that the restaurant in Leiter wasn't cooking anything because their air conditioning was broken and it was too hot to fire up the stove. So we had lunch and some ice cream there. It was also pretty hot to ride, and while lounging in the shade enjoying our cool water and ice cream, we were invited to go to Arvada to a pig roast. Initially we were reluctant because we had wanted to reach Gillette today, but after being invited by the clerk and another patron, we realized that occasions such as this wouldn't come around very often and it was worth postponing the 40 miles. Plus, we were only 23 miles away from Arvada and could take it easy in the afternoon heat.

As we pulled into the restaurant in Leiter, I ran into some problems with my pedals again. This time my cleat had loosened so much that my shoe rotated around the cleat, making it impossible to unclip. So once again, I became a victim of the so called "clipless" pedals.
Our intention in stopping at the restaurant was to pick up some beer, because we figured that would add some value to the pig roast and we didn't want to have to mooch off of the kind people of Wyoming. We bought the beer and were offered ribs. This was an offer we couldn't refuse, so we wolfed down some of the best ribs we've ever had. The proprietor of the restaurant was an older lady named Martha. Her world paradigm was slightly different than Travis' and mine. When I told her I'd be spending the next year teaching English in China, she opined that if it were up to her then I'd be chained to the floor and she'd "let 'em rot." Hmmm.

On our way out of the restaurant with the beer, four fine ladies in pink drove up in a minivan. They informed us that they were also on the way to the pig roast to serve as bartenders and that we were cheating by bringing our own beer. Oops. As they left the parking lot, however, they headed west. Laughing, we pointed them in the right direction and said we'd see them in a little bit.
We expected to arrive as the party got started but our slow day became even slower as my patched tube lost pressure. Travis, it would seem, was right about the patched tubes having their integrity compromised. And my plan to use the schrader side of the pump failed as it is leaking on that side too. Once I repaired the tire, the bead didn't set right and I had a lump as I rode. So I went through another CO2 cartridge fixing that. An hour after the party started, we finally rendevouzed with Buzz's girls, as they were called.
The ladies formed a bowling team that was sponsored by Buzz, who owned the bar. He throws the pig roast annually on the 3rd of July so as not to compete with the bigger towns on the 4th. It's basically a huge potluck with live band and a bunch of people getting drunk, dancing, shooting off fireworks, and generally having fun. We offered our Clif Bars as a contribution to the potluck, but Buzz's girls said we should just dig in. And so we did.

Buzz doing what he does best

When asked where we planned to spend the night, we said we'd find a field nearby in which to pitch our tent. But our ever hospitable bartending friends offered us luxury instead, a 19th century sheep wagon complete with mattress and iron stove. We didn't dare turn down the opportunity to sleep in a sheep wagon in Arvada, Wyoming and promptly threw our stuff in before they could rescind the offer.
While a few people were shooting off fireworks of their own, everybody anxiously awaited the big show put on by Buzz himself. Now Travis and I didn't have high expectations for a fireworks display in this seemingly backwater community, but boy were we surprised. The show lasted at least an hour with enormously colorful displays. We later asked Buzz how he was able to afford the show. We were pleasantly surprised to find out that he saves all of the aluminum cans throughout the year from his bar and pays for the show with the proceeds from recycling them. That's right, a $910 fireworks show paid for by recycled aluminum.
Travis and I were very glad to have changed our destination to Arvada for the evening and express our gratitutde to the wonderful people of Arvada, Wyoming, especially to Buzz and his girls.

Time	Trip	Odometer	Average	Max
5:35:23	78.7	1101	14.0	?

*Today I caught the cycle computer reading 65 mph outside the store in Sheridan. I think it's something in the anti-theft devices that throws it off, so I got another day without an accurate maximum speed reading.

"Get that man a beer!" - Day 10

We awoke this morning at 6:30 to the smell of hash browns, eggs and biscuits cooking. We shared a lovely breakfast with Dick and Susan before Travis went outside to try to figure out his cleat and pedal issues. I remained inside talking to Dick and Susan, sitting rather uncomfortably as a result of our night in Cardwell. Apparently when I sprayed the bug spray on myself, I forgot to get my rear end. So while I had a few mosquito bites on the rest of my body, my hindquarters were covered worse than chicken pox. Travis said he'd never seen anything like it. Don't forget to wear bug spray!

After a half hour or so of troubleshooting his pedals, Travis threw in the towel and opted to buy new cleats. On the way back to the Spoke Shop, we went by Albertson's to pick up the beer we had promised to the bike techs. So Travis was riding down the streets of Billings at 9 am, full pannier packs and a case of Fat Tire.
The shop hooked us up with bagels and a sweet discount on the cleats before we hit the road 1.5 hours later than we had wanted to. We thought that it was 115 miles to Sheridan, WY but the first sign we saw 10 miles outside of town said 124. Crap. That meant we would need favorable winds since the route was hilly, as Susan had warned us. We were making slow progress to Hardin, and by the time we stopped for lunch it was clear we weren't going to make it to Sheridan. Once again we felt a few drops of rain, and even stopped to put on our rain garb, but the storm stayed ahead of us.
We slowly ground out the afternoon, with me getting two flats on a patched tube. Travis had warned me that patching tubes was unreliable, but I'd never had a problem with glue on patches before. So not wanting to spend $5 and waste a lot of rubber by buying a new tube for every flat, I decided to patch. The stick on patches that we brought turned out to be worthless and I made it less than 20 miles before the patched tube failed. We did, however, turn the odometer over to 1,000 miles, meaning that we're close to 1/3 of the way to the finish line!
The Wyoming state line was our big goal, but a few miles before where we expected it, there was the dreaded "Chain-up area ahead" sign. Bad news: hills. We'd spent 6 days and 5 nights in Montana and were eager for the mental boost of making it across our 3rd state line. The sun's quickening fall from the sky made us even more desperate to make it to Wyoming, but behind every curve and hill lie more curves and hills with the signage telling us we'd finally cleared Montana nowhere to be seen.
Then finally, just as the sun set, I spotted something glorious around the bend. There was a cluster of signs and a change in the pavement color, that could possibly be the state line. We livened up our pace anxiously hoping that we'd made it. And we had. Hasta la vista Montana!
Crossing the border gave us energy, but it was still 9 miles to the nearest town of Ranchester, and by now it was pretty dark. We hurriedly dug out our lights and rode our fastest miles of the day the remaining miles into Ranchester. My headlight is more of a "be seen" than "see" feature, so I had to stick close behind Travis to have a chance to spot potholes. As we trudged through the darkness we were looking forward to pulling into the first bar we saw and enjoying a much needed beer. Then disaster struck. I flatted for the third time today on the outskirts of town. I had half a mind to just ride the flat into town, but wisely opted to walk the rest of the way, laughing the whole time with Travis about my misfortune.

As promised, we parked our bikes at the first bar we saw. I walked in the door with a look of exasperation from the 10.5 hour day with three flats, the final hour of which was in the dark. I hadn't even had time to take off my helmet before a man at the pool table called out "get that man a beer!" The bartender, Helen, then asked if I had a tent and before I could think about asking her where we could pitch it, she was showing me to the yard around the side of the bar. She cooked Travis and me two delicious pizzas, refilled our water bottles without being asked, gave us free granola bars and fruit snacks for the road that she claimed to not want, and offered to let us crawl into her car if it started to rain during the night. To top it all off, when we got our checks, there was no place to add the tip. We tried in vain to persuade her to let us tip her, but she flat out refused. What a delightful end to our hardest day of the trip. If you're ever near Ranchester, WY, definitely stop by the Silver Spur Bar there and say hi to Helen. If you don't have time to stop, you can even grab a six-pack from the drive-thru!

Time	Trip	Odometer	Average	Max
10:22:58	123.3	1022	11.8	28.9

"You should take the trip of a lifetime, at least every couple of years." - Day 9

We woke up late this morning at around 7:30, made breakfast and headed to the convenience store to refill on water. There we called Dick and Susan, the couple we met yesterday, and informed them that our plans had changed and we would in fact be in Billings tonight. They said they would be overjoyed to host us in Billings tonight. And there was much rejoicing.

Our first 25 miles outside of Big Timber was slightly downhill with a tailwind, so we were averaging 17 mph! About 15 miles outside of Big Timber, Travis got a phone call from a friend who is moving across the country. It turns out she had just driven past us. She and her friend turned around and we chatted on the I-90 shoulder before making plans to meet in Columbus for lunch at what has become the staple of our trip, Subway.

We made good time to Columbus but after lunch slowed down because we told Dick and Susan that we'd be there between 5 and 6 and we only had 40 miles to go. About 15 miles in, we noticed a storm building behind us. Without saying a word to each other, we both poured on the steam for the next hour and a half. The storm was of course drawing all of the air into it, so we were facing a brutal headwind and only averaging 14 mph or so. Those were the most grueling miles of the trip so far.

We started to feel drops about 5 miles from our exit but it looked like the storm was going to stay northwest of us, and it did. We arrived at the convenience store at our exit exhausted and hungry for some ice cream. We were once again in need of a bike shop and were directed to the Spoke Shop, which was downtown and mostly on the way to Dick and Susan's.

The people at the Spoke Shop were very friendly, letting Travis but is bike on the stand and helping him clean his drive train. For the past few days he has been struggling to clip in to his pedals and tried cleaning and adjusting his cleats. We promised the bike techs a six pack, "the darker the better," for their help before scurrying off to Dick and Susan's house whom we were a little bit late to meet. When I talked to them on the phone from the bike shop, I asked where a good place to eat would be and Dick said they had food for us at their house. What a deal!

We pulled up to the house, tucked our bikes away in the greenhouse and were shown to our rooms. Separate rooms. Incredible! Before sitting down to dinner with them, I hopped into the shower, since my hygiene was questionable at best without having showered in the past 6 days.

Dinner was delicious lemon chicken, spaghetti, homemade potato salad, bread, beans and tomatoes and of course beer. Travis and I ate two platefuls each while hearing about Dick and Susan's adventures in New Zealand. Dick is a retired physics professor with a keen interest in environmentalism and traveling, so naturally we hit it off well. Susan worked as a teacher on the Indian Reservation but had also spent time in China a few years back. She used to ride her bike to work all through the Montana winter too!

Over dinner, Dick spoke some true words to live by. "You should take the trip of a lifetime, at least every couple of years." It sounds like he and Susan have successfully done that. We wrapped up dinner with some damn good Moose Tracks ice cream, before we were given a computer to catch up on e-mails with. I sent out some feelers on warmshowers.org for places to stay in Rapid City on the Fourth of July, so hopefully somebody will be able to put us up and we can join in on a real American barbecue.

Susan is going to fix breakfast for us at 7, so we are living quite large here. I hand washed my biking clothes in the sink with the dish washing detergent we brought along before crawling into the warm and comfortable bed these wonderful strangers had provided.

Time	Trip	Odometer	Average	Max
5:50:41	83.9	899	14.3	39.8

"So apparently you can't drink beer and walk up to buffalo in national parks. Who knew?" - Day 8

We woke up this morning with mosquitos swarming outside of our tent and insufficient water to make oatmeal or cream of wheat. Hence, we decided to get breakfast down the road in La Hood. I donned my rain gear for the first time all trip, cinching up my hood around my face, leaving only a small portion of my face and ankles exposed to the onslaught of mosquitos. We quickly tore down the tent after a Pop Tart breakfast.

Our map showed a road that followed a river to Three Forks, which we opted to take rather than the interstate with its known uphill. The back road was a nice way to wake up, with very little traffic and a quiet ride by the river.

La Hood is a small city of approximately two buildings, and really shouldn't even be on the map. The restaurant wasn't open so we were left with no choice but to charge on to Three Forks with dwindling water and growing hunger pains.

We reached Three Forks and rode straight to Wheat Montana Farms & Bakery, a local bakery that grows its own wheat. There we met a couple who took interest in our biking gear and offered us their place to stay in Billings. We told them that we didn't think we'd be stopping in Billings but that if our plans changed we would definitely give them a call.

We made good time along mostly flat terrain to just outside of Bozeman where Travis got a flat a mile before the exit and lunch. We had lunch at the Fresco Cafe in Bozeman, a town that's feel reminded me of Ft. Collins.

The pass out of Bozeman was our final big pass before the plains, it wasn't too bad except the downhill side was under construction so the interstate was down to two lanes of traffic with us riding on the left shoulder between the white line and the rumble strips. This left us inches away from the traffic, which for the most part was considerate but we had a few close calls. It was a decidedly unsafe and unenjoyable experience.

On the flat stretch beyond Bozeman Pass, I took a look at my max speed to see how I'd done down the hill and was surprised to see that it said 50.2 mph. The fastest I'd hit before was 41.3 and I didn't think I'd exceeded that on the two lanes of terror. I think maybe I was riding close to Travis, who is using the same wireless cycle computer that I am, and my computer was picking up both signals when we were going 25 mph.

After the pass we got some good downhill and a quartering tailwind that left us cruising to Big Timber. On the way, I spotted a dot in the distance and figured it was another cyclist, so we put it in high gear and poured on the steam to catch up to them. He had a decent hybrid bike with a ragtag assortment of panniers and other doodads hanging from it. His name was Billy and he had recently spent the night in jail because he was drinking and getting too close to the Buffalo in Yellowstone. He was probably certifiable from the way he talked and the stories he told Travis while I rode behind listening and feeling bad for Travis. Billy isn't going to go back to Yellowstone for his arraignment.

We rode passed Billy only for me to get a front tire flat a few miles later. I'd never gotten a front flat on a road bike and didn't like it one bit. Mostly it was unfortunate though because it gave batshit Billy a chance to catch up to us. We were a scant 5 miles outside of Big Timber but the flat stole all our momentum and the winds shifted as a storm brewed off to the west.

It took a while to make the last few miles into Big Timber and the effort left us feeling famished. We didn't wait for Travis' friend Kyle to meet up with us and went straight to the Big Timber Bar to fill up on grub. There, a friendly gentleman told us of two free and nice places where we could pitch our tent and even drew maps to them on his napkin. He even offered to come tuck us in at night, if we'd cover his gas cost. His wife recommended that in Montana we could just walk up to a house and in all likelihood be granted permission to pitch in the yard.

It rained on our bikes while we were in the bar, which was the first time our bikes had gotten wet. My plastic bagging of everything seemed to keep all of my belongings dry, and the storm was over after a few minutes. Hopefully we'll continue to have good luck with the weather!

We opted to take the woman's advice and knock on random doors in Big Timber to find a place to sleep. At the first house we knocked at we were directed to the pastor's house across the street. So we ended up spending another night in a church's yard. The mosquitos were out again, but after our experience in Cardwell this morning, we had decided to invest in some bug spray of our own, something that I would definitely recommend doing before starting a trip through Montana.

Kyle got into town after we'd set up the tent and hadn't eaten yet, so we went back to the bar. He treated Travis and me to drinks while we shared stories about college and women and fun. The people at the bar recommended that we not spend the night in Hardin, on account of it being on the Crow Indian Reservation, and not knowing any better decided to change our goal for tomorrow to Billings. We'll try to get in touch with the people from the bakery this morning and see about a place to stay, and maybe our second shower of the trip!

Time	Trip	Odometer	Average	Max
8:41:23	122.9	815	14.1	???