Lame Deer to Broadus: Screaming in to the wind.

The saying implies that screaming in to the wind is not useful, but I say it is.

Some days exist just to test you.  This was one of those days.

Often, a start a post with a teaser, this post has three.

Anyway, today was hard.  It didn't start out hard, it started out pleasant.  Deacon Joe made me coffee and brought me a nice huge sweet roll, and we caught up on old times during breakfast.  I was able to fill him in on the happenings of the rest of my 2007 crew, and he filled me in on some town news.  He also pointed me in the direction of the missionary 20 miles away in the next town, which like his church, blends Catholic traditions with Northern Cheyenne traditions.  Both are a great case-studies in how cultures can combine, rather than have one eat the other.  I'll have pictures of the missionary later, and you can see what I mean in these pictures of the Lame Deer church from 2007.

It was a good thing that I was super well rested.  I went to bed on a soft couch at 8pm and slept late until 6am.  It could afford to sleep later since I hardly had to pack anything up. My legs felt much better (muscles repair pretty much only while asleep) and my saddle sores were mostly healed - that due to me switching from prevention (Gold Bond) to healing (half a tube of Neosporin.)

However, today was a very hilly, headwindy, and hot.  There was also lots of truck traffic - and while the road had a good shoulder - it was rough and crappy to ride on.  The 20 miles in to Ashland wasn't too bad - it was still cool - but then I had a 40 mile stretch in to Broadus that was (pardon my bike french) a huge kick in the balls.  It was desolate, hot, very hilly, and with a brutal headwind like riding in to a blast furnace. I was able to take a break about halfway in the shade of a parked semi-truck, but I couldn't sit or relax for fear of it taking off and not seeing me *squish*. I did 67 miles today in 6 hours on bike.  That is a crazy slow pace. It took me over 4 hours on bike to do those 40 miles.  Damn...

But, it could have been worse. The last time I rode this stretch it literally broke me. Then (2007) it wasn't just 95 degrees, it was 115 degrees and just as headwindy. Ariel wrote about it on the blog, but it doesn't quite tell my story. I had packed 5 or 6 water bottles for 40 miles (24 oz each), which should be fine, but I was almost out of water after 20 miles.  I rationed my last bottle for 10 more miles and then I was out and still had 10 miles to go.  By then I was crazy dehydrated anyway, dizzy, and fighting tunnel vision.  I was having a hard time thinking, much less ride a bike.  I don't have a great memory of it, but I think I even stopped making saliva.  Around 3 miles before Broadus I found a campground with water, and ran to the spigot and dived under it, back first and mouth up, just like in a movie.  I made it in to Broadus alive, but had to catch a ride from our host to Alzeda the next day and then hitchhike from Alzeda to Nisland the day after that. That's right, I was so heat sick from this ride last time that I couldn't ride for two days afterwards.

This time was much better, at 95 degrees it was 20 degrees cooler, and I packed a gallon of water plus a power-aid.  I even made it in with a bottle to spare.  However, I did go a little crazy out there. 40 miles with no break in the middle of nowhere in a blast furnace is hard to take.  I had some energy additive with caffine in it that I added to my water with about 19 miles left that really helped. It sharpened my mind... maybe... and I spent the next 2 hours or so screaming,  yelling, and singing obscenity laced things into the wind. Montana and I had our reckoning.  I was sick of riding alone, so I decided to ride with EVERYONE... well everyone in earshot... which was no-one....I think the cars passing thought I was crazy though because while they likely could not hear me, I was clearly screaming into nothing.  I think today was my hump from pretending to be not be a weirdo to not caring anymore.  Traveling alone you don't get the comradery or inside jokes that you get when with a crew.  I've decided I will now travel with me and screaming into the wind, and we will be best friends from no one.

Anyway, the only stretch of road to have ever broke me did not break me today.  I got into Broadus whipped but alive and in belligerent spirits.  Like last time, this was one of the hardest days.  There were two passes today (they call them divides here), number 15 and 16 for me this trip.  Last time we took a different route and they were only something like numbers 3 and 4. That makes a big difference.

I struck out on a park to stay at, but the sheriff's office gave me some phone numbers of churches.  I eventually found one that would let me set up a tent, but also asked to stay on a nice covered garden patio behind a convenience store and they said yes!  So I will stay there. John the pharmasist who we stayed with last time has moved to a different town, working South Dakota St. I believe.  Now I am in a library literally chilling, and looking forward to sleep and more Neosporin.  I think Paul will join me for a day in a couple days, and I will either ride 70ish into Alzeda, MT or 95ish into Belle Fourche, SD tomorrow, depending on the wind.

To the tune of "you are my sunshine," sung as loudly as possible:

This wind is bullsh*t, this hill is bullsh*t, this heat is bullsh*t, this is all bullsh*t
This state is bullsh*t, this hill is bullsh*t, this wind is bullsh*t, this heat is bullsh*t
repeat until coming up with a different song

I really do love it here...

ILYI