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

Forsyth to Lame Deer: I bike too much

Smart people plan rest days into their bike tours. In 2003 we had rest days in Missoula and Duboise, Wy. In 2007 we had short "rest" days into bear butte and Ithica, and 2 (I think) full rest days in Portland. I'm sure both tours had more that I am not remembering. Both had a few days off before RAGBRAI too.

The late end of the school year this year, combined with the tyranny of not wanting to miss RAGBRAI, means no rest days for me. Today, day 20, I needed one...

...but rode 60 miles of hot hills anyway. 4:30 on bike. My muscles were weak, a sign of overuse and over training, and I have some killer saddle sores. I managed to avoid them until a few days ago. The shorter days and occasional upright posture of hill climbing helped me avoid them. Doing long days, without much coasting, and in the same saddle position has brought them on strong. Ouch. For those of you not aware, it's like skinning your knee, only on your ass, and then sliding around on that for 5 hours in the heat while you sweat salt. All part of the game...

Luckily today I'm in a church in Lame Deer on the Northern Cheyenne Reservation. I contacted Deacon Joe who I met in 2007 and set it up. The town is much more subdued this time around not being a holiday, so I am spending most of my time alone and recuperating. Joe is out of town all afternoon. This rest is great for me. I have a soft couch, and will go to bed very very early. I anticipate feeling great in the morning.

Lame Deer is one of my favorite towns, but it is struggling. I don't know if the recession that hit after 2007 made it worse or not, it's hard to compare a town with itself on a holiday, but it's hurting. It's a very small town, but walking through it feels like walking through Oakland. The church must be kept locked at all times, there is garbage everywhere, and I saw someone get jumped while walking through the one main town street. That's what poverty looks like, whether it's Oakland or middle-of-nowhere Montana.

It's easy to focus just on the negatives, but I really do love this town. There is tons of great art, people all about, children everywhere, and people laugh and smile. I'm very out of my element here (the main store doesn't even sell sunscreen beyond tanning lotion, much to my frustration), and also very aware that any observations I make are through my own biased filters. This town compared to all other same size Montana towns is so incredibly different, but just as friendly. Most towns this size have cell phone service and some internet too, but not here... I don't know what that means though.

I'm going to eat a chocolate bar now.

Roundup to Forsyth photos

There were find of these bee hives about. I met some of the workers in Ignomar. Just after this picture the bees got tired of me being around...

I wish these were in order. This is the view from my bed in Forsyth

Ignomar only has out houses

This is a town. A dot in the map. Vananda. There are many such towns in the west.

Ignomar, about 62 miles in.

They have an authentic boardwalk and dirt road. This isn't fake for tourists.

Ignomar has zero paved roads.

Nothing... And Ignomar on the far right

My home tonight.

Only the second corn I've seen. The other was a small field in Idaho.

Entering the Yellowstone river valley.

Wide open

Roundup to Forsyth: Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!

Libraries... they are a double edged sword.  On one hand, for perhaps only the 4th time on this trip, I get to type with a keyboard. On the other hand, in order to hit it while it is open I am writing this entry while still gassed from the ride (figuratively and sort of literally - I did drink that Roundup water...)  Soo... whatever.

Today was the day! I did Townsend to Forsyth in 4 days, which the girls in 2007 did in 5 (a much better schedule) and shaved a day so now I will arrive at RAGBRAI on time. I'll still need to do a couple more 100 mile days, but it seems like I'm on the path to success.  Forsyth has an interesting history for us.  In 2007 when I left Ariel, Karen, and MinWah in Missoula so I could catch a wedding, I re-met them in Forsyth. As such, for the next 5 days or so I'll be doing the same route I did 7 years ago, perhaps the most magical section of our trip. I'm too tired to rehash the stories, but they are on our old 2007 blog starting here (includes 2007 4th of July story!)

So yes, today was the day.  I road 105 miles and spend about 7 hours on the bike.  For those of you who missed when I explained that, that's 7 hours sitting on the seat pedaling, and doesn't include breaks. My tendons and ligaments barely complained (sleeping in compression wraps is awesome!)  The first 50 miles were an ass-kicker, fighting a 15-20 mph off-kilter North headwind.  The wind shifted between 9 to 12 o'clock (if I'm heading towards 12) and spent most of it's time around 11.  That's a dangerous wind, because I have to continuously counter-steer into it.  It's the kind of wind that gets you sucked under passing trucks, especially if you are light and inexperienced. I remember watching Morgan in 2003, then only 14 and tiny, get sucked into the road several times by semitrucks under similar conditions.  Luckily I'm rather large and experienced, but I still needed to keep on my toes.  When trucks passed going the other direction is was like being hit by brick wall of wind, enough to drop my speed by what seemed like half. Boom!

I was heading NE for the first 50 miles or so, and then I turned SE.  I knew this was coming. I was waiting for it.  Around 50 miles that terrible headwind became a beautiful tailwind.  My first 60 miles took 4:30 on bike.  My last 40 took just over 2:30.  That doesn't mean that that last 40 were easy, though...

Tailwinds are a mixed blessing, and they have a couple drawbacks. Mainly, they are hot.  That's 2.5 hours sitting on a bike in blistering heat with no wind to cool you unless you stop. The second drawback is, and this doesn't always happen, is that you are really accessible to bugs.  Today that was a problem as I was riding through biting fly and bee country. Both can easily keep up with a rider going 20 mph if they have a tailwind too, especially if they get in your draft.  It so happens that today I was riding through honey country.  When I had the headwind the bees just flew past me, occasionally bouncing off me not-butt-first.  If they wanted to hassle me they couldn't fight the wind as well as I could, so I was effectively untouchable. With the tailwind they kept up, and some were mad that I was near their many many many honey boxes.  They would bomb me, bug me, draft off me, and were fairly aggressive.  The 30 miles after Ignomar was the worst.

I didn't realize how screwed I was until one of them stung me in the quad through my bike shorts.  I swore, and slowed down to pull out the stinger, and several more attacked.  I stood up and sprinted (pushing the bee poison all throughout my quad), and they kept right up in my draft. I had to keep accelerating and swerving trying to get the wind to push them off me.   Then I had to roll up my shorts and pull out the stinger while still riding.  I was 20 miles into a 40 mile push, really would have liked a break, but realized that I wasn't going to be able to stop until Forsyth.  I could feel the bee goo spreading through my thigh as I pedaled, but the bee failed.  It stung me in my leg. My legs always hurt.  That's what a bike tour it, a summer with hurting legs.  I told my thigh what I always tell it: "shut up and don't bug me unless you are low on fuel or sensing injury" and the sting pain puffed out of existence. Silly bee should have stung me in the face or something if it wanted results.  I was hassled several more times, and had to keep an eye on my shadow to know if they were around, since generally they were in my draft.  Jerks.

I ate lunch in Ignomar, an old-west town that was never paved and has real old boardwalks. Apparently it used to be one of the sheep capitols of the world.  At one point it had a population of around 2,500 - but now it's down to about a dozen.  I would like to write more about it, but I'm tired and this is too long already. I took a picture of one of the info signs, so check it out in the picture post.

I'm staying in the same dugout at the city park that we stayed at in 2007. Dugouts are awesome places to sleep. Sprinklers rarely hit them at 5am, they are sheltered from storms, and really discrete.  No-one is going to wake me up at 1am with a flashlight if I'm sleeping in a dugout.  The only bad part is no water at the park. Bleh, but there is water at the library!

Tomorrow is 55-ish miles to Lame Deer, a relative break, and I do love that town. I tried to get in touch with Deacon Joe (see 2007 Lame Deer post) to find a place to stay but I got a different guy on the church answering machine. I left a message, we'll see.  I was supposed to have a stiff headwind (south, and I'm going south all day tomorrow), but the forecast changed today so what will be a 3mph flit-around random wind.  Yay!  The crazy in my is considering pushing farther, but I love Lame Deer, could use a break, and know that the day after Lame Deer gets hilly and even has a pass. Pass number 15!

ILYI

Harlowtown to Roundup photos

Just because I am out of the mountains doesn't mean the geography is boring yet. 

My campsite bathtub! Felt sooooo good.

Cattle enjoying the shade from washed out bridge

Dinner routine

Home. Tent is for bugs, not rain.

I've been following the flight of the Nez Perce all the way from Kooskia.

Harlowtown to Roundup: "No one drinks the water in Roundup"

Today was 72 miles and around 4:45 on bike. The next furthest town would have made it a 107 mile day, and I was tempted, but not everything went in my favor.

Connective tissue... Of alll the body tissues it is the biggest pain (hah). Skin is easy: lube and gold bond. Muscles are easy: protein, sodium, potassium, and sugar for fuel. Neurons are easy: sugar, sodium, potassium. Friggin' ligaments needed calcium and magnesium. Bastards.

Either a tendon or ligament inside me left knee/thigh decided to flare up for the first 30 miles today. I treated it with swearing, a cliff bar (full of calcium and magnesium), water, Ibuprofen, creative stretching, and at the end of the day ice (frozen pees, then I ate them) and compression. It behaved itself for most of the rest of the ride. However, it caused me to go slow during a great tailwind.

After my rest and doctoring, the route turned northeast and the wind turned from west to northwest, meaning a side wind. The terrain's rolling hills also got rollier and steeper. My hopes of a 107 mile day were fading... Then it got hot, 95 degree no shade hot... Which is not the hottest I've ridden in (115), but that isn't 100+ miles weather. It also meant 40 miles with no break, because there was never enough shoulder for me to rig my own and if I break without shade I'll run out of water and/or overheat. To top it all off I then discovered that I had a slow leak in my front tire which had made ten miles harder than usual. I decided to let fate call this one: Roundup is home tonight.

For the record, this is not a tale of woe. I was lucky that my first serious injury-level leg issue was during a flatish ground tailwind so I could take it easy, and that my flat was a slow flat so I could just pump it up instead of a boiling roadside flat change. I just need to do 100 miles tomorrow or 95 the day after that in order to finish shaving a day.

Roundup is interesting. I tried three churches but no one was home. I finally gave up and went to the fairgrounds where camping is free but kind of crappy... That is until I discovered the adjacent river / bathtub. My first bath since Missoula felt great, and I finally stopped feeling overheated.

I thought my story would end there, but around 8pm a sheriff came by and said "did anyone warn you not to drink the water here?"..... Well no.... I drank a couple pints actually.... I then tried to get the story from him and other locals in the area. No one could tell me why I shouldn't drink it, just that no water in town is good.  Some said rusty pipes, some said it was from a flood last year, all said it would either give me the shits or just preserve my insides. I couldn't figure out if it was a organism issue or a metal issue, so I didn't feel safe filtering it.

Now I am sitting on two gallons of store bought water, and an extra roll of toilet paper for tomorrow. Just in case. Maybe they should put up a damn sign...

Sounds about right... #biketour