Big
Ride Updates...
14. Townsend to Harlowtown, MT 7/1 Miles 100.6 Total 855.4
No,
it's not all down hill after the Continental Divide; the Rockies are not
so easy. We crossed an irrigated valley heading east. To the south of Mt.
Baldy and Mt. Edith in the Big Belt Mountains, we pedaled higher along the
banks of Deep Creek in heavy forest. The trees began to thin near the top
and the road became less steep. Brown grasslands spread upward ahead of
us and on either side. The road began to descend through rounded hills.
The sky grew larger and larger. For a mile, scattered pine trees and foothills
were all around, then suddenly, there was nothing across the road but sky,
the horizon leapt fifty miles to the east in an instant.
Crossing
over into the valley to the east of the Big Belt Mountains and west of
the Castle Mountains Nathan and I leisurely pedaled alone for 10 miles
then joined a fast pace line for a long flat run into White Sulpher Springs
and Dori's Café (photo), where the wild life on the walls helped us pass
the time waiting for a second breakfast. There were bison, moose, elk,
caribou, deer and antelope. We climbed over another ridge into a more
eastern watershed. The terrain flattened, The Crazy Women Mountains to
the southeast were in the far distance and faded as the day wore on. Hay
roles were stacked in the field in long lines like giant "wooley worms".
Antelope grazed on the ridges, and two coyotes nosed around the edge of
a recently plowed field looking for marmots. They would have done better
on the road with us, there were plenty of the little critters scampering
into the ditch at the side of the road and about one every mile that had
not been quick enough to escape a car. We saw scattered storms on the
horizon and overhead but only felt only scattered raindrops. student from
Ohio State shows off her muscle)
We camped on the Harlowtown High footbball field. At 6:00 pm the thunderstorms
caught up to us. Gusting high winds, small hail and slanting rain roared
into the camp accompanied by repeated, lightening strikes. The door to
the Kiwanis hall on the hill over the field opened and we (all 200 of
us) were summoned to shelter------and, a party. Welcome to the DeBuff
Family Reunion an annual 4th of July 
weekend
event. The hall was full of happy folks eating and chattering. Mom and
Dad DeBuff, their 8 boys and 8 girls, grandchildren by the score and great-grandchildren
by the dozens (including one just 18 days old) welcomed us and made us
part of their party. All over the room, DeBuffs were happy to tell us
a little about their family tree, and the importance of a good rain. With
over 16 sections of land in wheat and hay, George DeBuff refered to this
drought breaking storm as a "million dollar rain". A long narrative poem
read by of the daughters told of a couple starting their ranch with a
$10 down payment on the land in the 1930's, and adding acres and children
on a regular basis. Each birth was celebrated including a daughter who
came out "butt first", a line that provoked great laughter which grew
even louder when the now middle aged lady stepped forward, turned her
backside to us and wiggled her anatomy. Mom and Dad made a few remarks
and there were tears of joy all around the room.
The storm abated, but bikers were slow to leave that joyful place. It
was a special night, one that we will remember and so will the DeBuffs.
15. Harlowtown to Billings, MT 7/2 Miles 94.7 Total 950.1
We
are out of the mountains and on the high (altitude about 4000 feet) plains.
This is sagebrush, dry country. It's mostly flat and we followed the Musselshell
river for half of the day, then climbed out of its basin past sandstone
outcrops (rimrock) and occasional irrigated fields to an even flatter, and
drier landscape. (photos: prairie, and irrigated fields) The only vertical
feature for 30 miles was an abandoned grain elevator.
Flat
tires are no fun. I've had two so far. There are lots of hazards on the
road: sharp rocks, thorns, but most often its glass chips from broken
bottles that stick in the tire tred and are driven into and through the
tire and inner tube. Unfortunately, most of the glass on the road ends
up on the shoulder where we ride, and while all that glitters in the light
is not glass, most of it is. (photo: David, our riding photographer, works
on a flat. Check out his work on the "riding reporter section" of
www.bigride.com.)
Two
hundred people riding bikes 80 miles a day fall prey to a number of problems.
Here is a medical report. Ice is applied in large quantities for repetitive
motion injuries of knees and ankles. Sunburn was common in the first several
days but riders have become more aware of the power of the sun applied
8-12 hours daily. Zinc oxide noses are everywhere. There are scrapes and
bruises from slips and falls and a sizable minority of the riders will
admit to some problem with saddle sores. Water stops every 15-20 miles
help prevent heat prostration, but not everyone has remembered to drink.
Sore muscles (legs, back and neck) are plentiful, and if you have the
cash and the inclination, you can sign up for a massage with our riding
massage therapist.
Food for 95 miles: Breakfast: cheese omlet, potatoes, pineapple chunks, bacon, oatmeal, rice krispies, milk, OJ. Second Breakfast: two eggs, bacon, potatoes, toast, jelly, OJ. Lunch: PB sandwiches (2), bananas. Snacks: apple, bananas, granola bars, coke. Dinner: roast pork, mashed potatoes, gravy, apple sauce, carrots, salad, apple pie, Sprite. All of these were consumed in large helpings and washed down with quarts of water and Gatorade. I don't know how many calories I consumed, but I know that I missed my usual daily dose (or two) of ice cream.
Marjolein
deWit is a pulmonary fellow at Tufts. She is a Dutch citizen, but learned
English and Dutch together as a child in the US. She has also lived in
Zaire and Ivory Coast. Her father was an official with the World Bank.
Marjolein has personal, as well as scientific, knowledge of asthma. Her
disease was so severe during childhood that she was managed in a Dutch
"in-patient" asthma center for 3 years. She requires regular medication,
but is especially thankful that now, she only has to take it twice a day.
"I couldn't live with drugs that had to be taken four times a day". For
this trip, Marjolein wanted to ride a bike like the one she had in Holland.
Her "Gizelle" is the Cadillac of bikes complete with a generator to power
a tungsten headlight, complete fenders, suspension seat post, "tilt" steering
and lots of other "goodies" she loves to show off. She shrugs when someone
(everyone) points out its hefty weight, and says "it's a ride, not a race".
17. Billings to Hardin, MT 7/4 Miles 54.3 Total 1004.4
Over a thousand miles. Hooray!
The
Rockies stand hip deep in their own erosive debris. The nearly thousand
mile slope from the base of the mountains to the Mississippi River is
made up in large part of rocks, pebbles and sand worn off the mountain
heights and carried out on to the plain. And what the rivers have deposited,
they also carry away leaving long, west to east troughs carved into the
landscape. We rode across several of these canyons today beginning with
the Yellowstone River in Billings. The city sits in the flood plain. We
camped in the bluffs on the north side and began our ride with a rapid
"coasting" down to the river in the 50 degree morning chill. Then on the
far side it was a long slow climb up over the south wall of the river
basin shedding speed and clothes. At the top and for most of the morning,
the surface of the land was like a rough sea: low buttes, ragged bluffs,
sandstone outcrops, erratic boulders and waterless creek-beds. The dry
grass made a noise like the surf as the wind blew over this rocky sea
stirring the grasses into waves that danced in the sun. Killdeers and
nighthawks circled and wheeled through the sky like gulls at the beach
and the highway road up and down the swells of the land curving to find
its path through the waves of land until the land flattened and the road
sped east before us. We saw our first prairie dogs. They scampered for
their holes as we pedaled past. At about 40 miles, the waves of land flattened,
the road became a straight line and we had a full 180 degree view of the
"big sky".
The
riders were in a festive mood today. We rode under a bright sky after
a morning thunderstorm cleared the air. The head winds were slower today,
the road was smooth and there was almost no traffic. Our route was short-necessitated
by the location of towns on the map, and Hardin was a good host in past
years. At almost every opportunity, we stopped for a Kodak moment. (photo:
I ride a slow "bike"). The local amateur rodeo entertained us in the afternoon:
barrel races, bull riding and for the kids, goat tying and sheep riding.
Tonight there will be fireworks. The weather report and the building cumulus
clouds on the western horizon suggest another kind of fireworks.)
Jay Wilkin
of New York wins my prize for the best jersey on the 4th of July. Jay
is an attorney who specializes in the "re-insurance" industry. (That sounded
too obscure for me so I didn't ask more about it.) He did most of his
training in Central Park and along the banks of the Hudson. He is 56 years
old and wanted to take this adventure "before it was too late, before
I'm unable to make the trip".
18. Hardin, MT to Sheridan, WY 7/5 Miles 87.2 Total 1091.6
Inexplicably, we were back into green rolling waves of green toady as we headed south along the Little Big Horn River. The frequency with which the landscape changes is astounding; dry to green, flat to rolling or frankly hilly, rangeland to tilled crops and irrigated fields. At about 30 miles, we could pick out some snow-covered peaks in the distance to the west, a line of mountains that grew as the day became hotter. The Big Horns stand like a western outpost to the main ranges of the Rockies farther west. We followed their foothills south enjoying the green landscape again. Cows and suckling calves lowed from the skyline pastures, and red winged blackbirds, goldfinches, bank swallows, and meadowlarks filled the sky with song and flight. 
I
fell in with three riders at about mile 20. They were going just a little
faster and by joining in their wake I could ride faster with less energy
expenditure. Over 12 mph the greatest impediment to biking faster is the
resistance of the "wall" of air. Riders following a leader, ride in a
"space" with less resistance; they can ride faster with less effort. Riders
often take turns at the front position, "pulling" the riders behind, and
then, switching positions when the front rider begins to tire. Our leader,
Mary, did not tire. She increased her speed to 17 mph and we picked up
another rider. Then it was 18 and we were a chain of 6 riders, then 7.
We rode for 10 miles at 18 and 19 with Mary pulling all of us along to
the next rest stop. She declined my picture request, but told me with
glee that she "loves to go fast", and that she doesn't like to relinquish
the lead because "it's good training for triathalons". The six of us behind
her on the road had no reason to argue, but we we glad to get a break.
Hooray, a new
state!
We
had no options for food for most of the day, so when we arrived in Sheridan,
food was the first stop. (Photo: Paula at Subway) Paula is a nurse in
a chronic care facility in Michigan, a fast rider and another soul who
wanted an adventure. Eating a sub on the curb in front of a Subway in
Sheridan may not have been exactly what she had in mind when she started,
but it's part of the adventure now.
20. Gillette to Newcastle, WY 7/7 Miles 74.3 Total 1279.9
Russian thistle, Russian cactus, saltwort, prickly glasswort, wind witch or as most of us know it, tumbleweed. Like most of the people on this continent and many of the plants and animals, tumbleweed is an import, a Russian import that has done very well. It's seedlings sprout in the spring and are tender enough to be edible to livestock. Once the weather turns hot the plant becomes a hard, woody and prickly bush that crowds out other vegetation. In the fall, the stalk breaks loose from the soil and the bush "tumbles" away in the wind depositing its seeds, 10,000 to 100,000 of them, across miles of countryside.
We also are brown, (and browner) and stiff from our hours in the sun and wind. And we too hope for a wind to move us along in the right direction. We had it for most of the day. At its worst, it was a cross wind, never a head wind and it was never as relentless as the last few afternoons. The route was flat for 25 miles as we skirted the edges of the Thunder Basin National Grassland, but then it was back to the long climb and oh too short coast on the far side that characterize these high plains (our altitude is still at 4200 feet).
Wyoming:
least populated state, the windiest state (I believe it), and the Cowboy
state, the cowboy on a bucking horse is its symbol. Wyoming was the first
state to give women the right to vote and a woman served as governor before
1920. These are bits of information that Shawn, our Wyoming native, luggage
truck driver wanted us, and you, to know about his favorite state. (photo:
Shawn).
Two
good signs on businesses her in Newcastle: "Gabby's Food & Gas" which
may not be the best place to get food and the sing on the local barber
shop (photo: barber), stop in for a trim and a couple of pistols.
21. Newcastle WY to Rapid City, SD 7/8 Miles 85.2 Total 1365.1
About
the same time, geologically speaking, as the Rockies were built, the Black
Hills were formed by a volcanic up-thrust that pushed very ancient rock
(about 1.5 billion years old) up through the crust along with new molten
granite. Now it is a picturesque "sky island" in the mid-west plains. We
rode from coal rich Newcastle (30 one hundred car coal trains daily) up
the western slopes of the Black Hills. The road was twisted and enclosed
by dark forests of pine and fir. Extrusions of rock loomed over us and oddly
shaped spires of granite silhouetted the sky line. Difficult climbs were
punctuated by thrilling plunges into beautiful green valleys surrounding
placid lakes. A few buffalo grazed in one valley, but an hour later, many
riders were held up by a herd of several hundred that made its way slowly
across the road. Several big horn sheep ewes made an appearance. And then
it was gone and we pedaled into a stiff headwind going north along the foothills
into Rapid City.
In
my mind, the Black Hills mark the transition from "the West" to the "mid-West".
Firstly, these are the last mountains that we will cross until we reach
Pennsylvania. Secondly, we could see from the top of our ride today, (5238
ft), the flat, and oh so very flat plains that await us when we leave
Rapid City. Thirdly, the humidity jumped today; no more "quick-dry" for
jerseys and shorts hanging from tent poles and fences. Fourthly, we have
cycled more that one third of the way across the country. And finally,
I think we are close to the traditional longitude dividing line that separates
eastern from western birds. For these reasons, I declared today as our
last day in the west as well as our first day in our fifth state, South
Dakota.
My rider
of the day is Rita, 56, from Connecticut. She became a widow 5 years ago
when her husband died of emphysema. She went to law school and now is
considering ways to use her new degree. Rita is not a "strong" rider.
She does not whiz along the flat stretches, join fast pace lines, or power
up and over hills, but Rita is tough. She finishes. Despite limited riding
experience, she is out on the road every day and finishing late every
afternoon on determination and will power. And she is always smiling.
--- Paul Fairman, Big Rider #2152.
< pfairman@earthlink.net>